We celebrated the not-so-official end of summer at Oceanside. The girls wonder why we can't go to the beach year-round. We can, of course, we can't just play in the ocean. The water gets cold and icy in the winter months and we freeze on our long walks back to the car. But they say that's okay, they still want to swim no matter how cold it gets.
And at that moment I realized we raised California girls. Not born in Wisconsin like my husband and I. This time of year Wisconsinites don their green and gold Packer parkas in time for football season. They buy fresh new ice scrapers for their car windows. They make sure the chains and anti-freeze are ready for the drive to work. There's none of this, "Boo-hoo, we can't go swimming in the ocean in January. Wah!"
But the best part of living in California, amidst the deep depths of the recession and high gas prices, is the view. We might pay sky-rocketing prices in mortgage but look! We have the ocean!
I am the IRON JESTER simple as 3.14159265. In my senior high school English class, we were assigned groups to write a soap opera. The group next to mine wrote me as a character. Instead of using my real name, Terri Fortney, they penned "Very Distortney." I took it as a dig then but now it's the highest compliment.