When I was growing up, my aunt owned a home at the beach. On the beach. And my parents made me go there on Sundays to visit. One time I even spent a week there. That was torture. There was just nothing to do. Even though my uncle owned a boat and drove me around in it at my whim. And never mind that he lived just inches from John Wayne and Buddy Ebsen. I was not impressed.
I got to wondering what that house would look like now... now that both my aunt and uncle had passed away and supposedly the house had been sold.
Well... I got my answer. Oh what a house. And oh what a spoiled kid, to not appreciate all that she had when she was young.
This photo does not do the property justice, so let me say that that's the beach next to the house... the house on the corner. (It appears to be under construction but it looks like it's only gotten better... and it was wonderful to start with.) And that's the bay that the house is sitting on. With those three little boats in the boat dock. My uncle also had three boats. Three! And I had my pick to play on.
And I just hated Sundays. Oh to have access to that awful house, on that awful beach once again...
Sigh.
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