Context is very important. Possibly of the utmost importance. In the context of this particular blog, at least. For instance, who doesn’t like the beach? Who doesn’t love frolicking especially scantily clad among the dunes and waves? And who doesn’t immediately feel disgusting upon heading back to the car. Not upon getting into the car. Upon merely turning in the direction of the car. Because now the context has changed entirely. Sand is fun among more sand. Now you’re looking realistically towards being entirely uncomfortable until you can get into a hot shower. … Then Josh fills the bathtub and I’m forced to climb in (or waste the blue dye he’d already put in the water) when Ezzie and I hadn’t had a chance to rinse the sand off of our feetsies! Gawd. Way to help, broseph.
So I found my new favorite spot. It’s down the side of the cliff on (surprise!) West Cliff Drive. I went past this sign about dangerous something or other and climbed down to a lovely ledge where I sat writing and being kissed by invisible dew. Lovely. People coming around the bend kept looking at me and trying to yell things to me but I couldn’t hear them over the crashing waves. And it seemed really dangerous to keep leaning back over the edge to see them more clearly. Anyway, it was wundebar. And although the point was to start looking over the first 50 pages of Anagnorises that I’d just had printed and stapled, I ended up realizing something about the foundation of Paris Noir (ish) project. Much fun was had by all.
Daddy’s on his way to bring us an Ethan.
So that’s what shall be in a matter of hours.
It was such a beautious day!!