After Rohan’s wedding, we met up with my in-laws and my cousin-in-law Courtney for a mini vacation on Chincoteague Island. It’s a charming island in between Virginia’s Eastern shore and Assateague, the barrier island/national seashore. The community and wildlife refuge were made famous in Marguerite Henry’s Misty of Chincoteague, which planted dreams of pony ownership in my pre-pubescent mind.
We actually saw the wild ponies on Assateague, but they would have looked like unimpressive specks in my iPhone photos. Instead, here’s a picture of cousin-in-law Courtney with an Atlantic whelk:
We were only on the island for a few days, but that was enough time to poke around the charming downtown, looking at tourist kitsch and lazy jellyfish bobbing by in the bay.
Also, enough time to consume a monstrous amount of fried seafood and ice cream. I get stressed eating ice cream cones because you have to lick fast enough to catch any drips AND there’s always the danger of knocking the ice cream scoops right off the cone. Way to go, self, making summer ice cream into a stressful experience. Now, I always ask for the ice cream scooper to mash the whole thing into a cup and give me a spoon.
Hus-friend and I went for a walk after dinner one night and found a cemetery containing exactly one grave: that of Captain Joshua L. Chandler.
It’s so nice to be on vacation, where I can go make-up free and wear shorts. And eat crab chips. Because mmmm, Old Bay seasoning!
Strong winds foiled out attempt to spend the day at the beach–no one likes hyper-exfoliated/sand-blasted legs! Instead, we relaxed by the Bay and bird-watched from our screen porch. Even though we weren’t at the beach exactly, it was still the kind of beach vacation that makes me squeal I love the beach!!! (and then It makes me special and unique! )
Coast-to-coast in 24 hours! Now, we’re back in San Francisco before a three-day weekend. Life is good.