Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Saturday: Vaughn, WA

The beach house is the best place I have ever been. Hands down the most amazing place. The combination of childhood memories and stunning setting continues to solidify my love of the place year after year. The house has large white columns and an ample porch that looks out on the ocean. There is no tv there. The living room has seating furniture arranged in a circle around a coffee table. People are the focus of this environment, something rapidly escaping our notice as we absorb ourselves in our iPads and smart phones. I fear for the loss that represents sometimes. The other form of entertainment is the water. We sit on the porch and look out on the for hours. It is constantly changing. And because it is in the sound, in the nights leading up to the fourth of July fireworks explode across the sound. All of them have been purchased illegally and all are beautiful.

When we arrived it was perfect. A light breeze, not a cloud in the sky, and perfect weather in the upper seventies. The water was even warm. Being at the beach house is so energizing.

The Mitchells came over for happy hour today. Tom Mitchell's sailboat was anchored outside their house two lots down. There is a different pace and life to the beach house and Vaughn Bay. People come and go with nothing less than contentment and a romanticized version of events.

I remember the summer that David had a huge crush on Katelin Mitchell. I came outside the house and saw the two of them having an odd moment in front of the house. It was dusk and it was windy. I don't remember more about the moment other than the fact that David never mentioned it again. I suppose that the summer fling did not come to fruition.

I went and got groceries for the house with Ciera. Harry told me to get some cheap vodka; Mama liked vodka tonic's. The liquor store was very crowded. The man in front of me, tattooed and looking clearly local, turned and asked me, “what are ya makin' with that?”

“I don't know.”

“Well who's the vodka for?”

“My grandmother.” I replied earnestly—according to Ciera almost too much so. The man and the woman he was with howled with laughter. So did anyone who could hear me in the line. The bell on the door chimed and a woman walked in.

The woman with the tattooed man said, “It's a party in the liquor store.”

The woman that had just walked in replied, “yeah it's a party in the liquor store” and a little less enthusiastically and under her breath, “everyone I know is here.”

That's the beach house life. At least a part of it. I have to go now. Because I need to play board games before going to bed. This place is perfect—as near as I can tell, it is a paradise.