It's pity party time around these parts...a much deserved pity party, if I do say so myself.
Not only is the dryer broken, but the dishwasher decided to follow suit, along with the cute new fountain that is now acting like a big beautiful bird bath rather than the fountain that it's supposed to be.
Seriously?
While complaining, loudly, it suddenly came to me. We need a vacation. But in order to take a vacation one must have money...and all our money (not that we have any) is being poured into our broken down house.
Real life isn't always fun.
=0)
So we decided on a whim to take a vacation morning...an escape from the falling down house and the houseful of boys who eat way to much food.
Our plan? Get up early, drive the 6.1 miles to the beach and splurge on breakfast at The Beachcomber.
The beach...it was cold. It was overcast. It was perfect.
There's just something about breakfast there that makes you feel like everything is going to be ok. That maybe, just maybe, by the time you've finished eating beignets and breakfast crostini and drinking close to a pot of coffee laden with real cream, that all will be well.
That the broken down house will no longer be broken.
Feeling full...we walked. Walked and talked for close to two miles on the empty beach while the marine layer burned off and the sun began to shine.
Here we are...that guy that I like so much and me, the chick with the stink eye.
=0)
Sadly, when we got home, everything was still broken. Oh, and the engine lights are now on in two of our cars.
Ugh.
BUT...breakfast was yummy. Repairman have been scheduled. The garden is still pretty. The cats love that that the fountain is now a big bird bath.
This too shall pass. Soon, I hope.
=0)
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