We’re back from two whole weeks at a beach house in Avalon, New Jersey, and it was FANTASTIC. We rang all the chimes:

• First week cold and rainy, so we had to entertain ourselves with jigsaw puzzles and a spinning captain’s chair: check. I’m not being sarcastic, here: this is a traditional and important part of any beach vacation, and is designed to test your nerve. The day we drove down was BEAUTIFUL, but we awoke the next morning to weather reports showing thunderstorms as far out as the forecast goes
• Read all of the “Little House” books: check. Almanzo Wilder continues to be my hero, possibly because he is so much unlike me.
• Embarass ourselves with Dance Dance Revolution on the boardwalk: check. Eleven-year-olds have now, it appeared, directly wired their brains into the computer; their feet are moving with unbelievable accuracy.
• See the most terrifying ride you’ve ever seen at the boardwalk, and ride it: check. I rode the “Cyclone Extreme”, which (Google reveals afterwards) is a “Moser Super Flipping Action Arm.” It’s kind of like a fifty-foot-tall industrial welding robot arm with a chair on the end. Did I mention it was fifty feet tall?
• Dig a big hole on the beach; so big that Matt could put his chair and umbrella in the hole: check
• Henna tattoo: check. I got “KATE” tattooed on my left bicep in Olde English Gangsta Script, but my T-shirt sleeve fell down and smeared it, so it kind of looked like it said “CATS”. Sorry, Kate.
• Lots of jumping and splashing in the water: check
• Outdoor showers: check
• Sunburned stomach: check

All in all, it was wonderful, and I’m sitting under Eighth avenue, about to roll into Penn Station and see what the work world has been up to while I’ve been gone. Gulp!