Full-on Summer: Part One

In celebration of the first day of summer coming this Friday, I’m beginning a series of posts on our summer festivities/observations/stuff of late. I anticipate no particular rhyme or reason to this series. It may or may not make much sense.

So let’s talk about yesterday.

Yesterday, for example, included lots of wave action.

100_7324100_7320100_7304100_7300100_7286100_7283As always, when Baby-girl’s around, our day includes lots of shelling.

100_7349100_7348100_7413I don’t have a physical picture to show you for this next one, so instead I’ll create a word picture (perhaps the cheesiest descriptor ever, but you get the point).

Yesterday, there was man stationed next to us on the beach with shorter shorts than one normally sees, a clean-cut hairstyle coupled with a Duck Dynasty beard, and, get this, a lifeguard whistle. Every time his children got too far down the shoreline, he whistled (the first time he used it I literally jumped) and performed a semi-complex series of hand signals, arms fully extended, that the children seemed to understand. Seriously, his signals looked like choreography. One would think he could just point in the direction he wanted his children to go, but no. Imagine for a moment with me a scene in the lives of the Duck family that may indeed have occurred shortly before leaving for their island vacation:

“Now kids,” begins Duck Dad, standing in his backyard with children too young to recognize tribute-to-the-70s shorts when they see them, “Let’s practice our water safety hand signals. What does this mean?” asks Duck Dad, moving his arms in a short sequence of movements inspired by years of avid synchronized swimming fanhood.

The kids move accordingly, and Duck Dad repeats a few other gestures before deeming the ducklings ready for their vacation.

Upon further reflection, while signaling he looked how I would imagine a male cheerleader with a Duck Dynasty beard attached to his face would look while cheering with a whistle. I daresay it’s a look few of you would conjure up in your minds of your own volition. It’s just not one of those obvious looks.

Now, I say all this fully acknowledging that I am the woman willfully attempting to bring the duck-feet sexy look into its own. Don’t misunderstand: my pride was set aside long ago on these matters, and I know my people when I see them.

This is where my mind goes, y’all.

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Also coming shortly: This year’s version of my annual summer list!

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