End of Day Report
Here's the view from the dinner table. We all threw down fish and chips from Crabby Joe's, a fish place teetering precariously out over the ocean on a pier. To either side of the pier, surfer boys were shredding the waves, or trying to. At one point, a dolphin swam among them - it was quite entertaining.
The day was started in the water and building a sandcastle with Zion. Our building efforts were thwarted by starting too close to the surf. We kept taking on water, first in the moat and eventually in the castle itself. Some things have a weird, double-prophetic wring to it. I'm so glad I didn't put Pergo in the castle basement, Eric!
Following that, we retired to our swank seaside apartment for lunch, and then on to what has been described as a must-see (erroneously, might I add): The Daytona Flea Market. The Flea Market is huge and...strange. Think 'state fair', minus the cows and double the carnival weird atmosphere. Funnel Cakes and knock-off Kate Spade bags. Upon exiting the labrynth of booths and buildings, we realized we could not find our car. I know this sounds crazy, but you have to understand we have rented the most nondescript rental in the history of automobiles: A tan Grand Marquis. Who knew they still built these? It's a serious land yacht and lulls surrounding traffic to sleep. It's also hard to find in a vacant parking lot.
Just before we found the car, I was stung by a hornet on the back of the hand. No real reason you need to know this...just giving you the whole story.
Earlier in the day we devised what I believe is one of our better ideas: Rather than book a crazy schedule and force it on the kids, we allotted them each $X and told them that they could do with it what they want, provided the whole family participated (and you couldn't opt out of someone else's choice). Tonight was Gray's night, which led us to Crabby Joes, then Target to pick up a board game, then back to the apartment for some game time. Great choice, Grayson!
We also did a little boogie-boarding in the high tide tonight. Being a little short on boogie myself, it was quite a chore. At one point, the Perfect Storm somewhere off the coast of Africa sent the Mother of All Waves headed our way. I paddled out to greet it and KAWHAAAAM!, it sent me reeling. Somewhere out there in eight feet of water, there are six alternating impressions in the sand on the bottom: My face, my rear, my face, my rear, my face, and yes, my rear. I have been sand blasted at both ends.
To my pastoring buddies - I know you think it's novel to do church in a movie theater, but any doof can do services outdoors. we're already contemplating attending here on Sunday - it's just down the street and we can go in our jammies, I think. "Worshiping Outdoors Since 1953!" they claim. I'll keep you posted.