For the past few years, we've spent Spring Break down in Florida with my grandparents. It's wonderful watching them bond with Anna, and the sun break is always welcome (although this year it was lovely in Portland in February!).
But despite the fact that we're only miles from the beach, we'd never made it there with Anna on our previous visits. That changed this time, and it was an ideal day. The beach was fantastic, with gentle waves, a slight breeze, and shells. Lots and lots of shells.
You see, I have a weird thing about shells. I can't not look for them. When I'm on a good shelling beach I get so distracted that I really have to make myself lift my head and notice the rest of my surroundings. Because David has some anxiety that, if left to my own devices, I will singularly remove all the shells from the beaches of the world, I take lots of photos and then throw most of them back into the ocean. Because, heaven knows, I don't want to be responsible for creating a housing shortage for the hermit crabs of South Florida!
In any case, shells were admired (and smuggled), sand castles were built, waves were jumped, and memories were made.
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