Sunday, July 5, 2009

And a Partridge in a Palm Tree

I just completed the first week of my new life living at the shore. For anyone who doesn't know, I'm taking the summer to live at the beach and spend time with my family before I move to Barcelona in September (more on that later I'm sure).

I wrote something last summer about all the random food that could be found in our kitchen here. Well, while prowling around during the week here I realized that this doesn't just apply to the kitchen; the randomness spreads throughout the building.

Of course there is the requisite junk drawer in the kitchen with things like a flexi-straw with three plastic Santa Claus heads on it, a picture of my dad and his brothers circa 1977, five golf pencils, a broken wind chime, a box of long matches and a 1992 Philadelphia Phillies yearbook.

But then there is the drawer in a bureau that is stored in what we call the "bonus room" on the first floor, basically an extra family that we use for storage and playing drinking games. The top drawer of this chest contains a book about John Adams, a wiffle ball and a figurine from a box of Red Rose tea in the shape of a goose.

The drawers of the two end tables in that room have several pictures of my family from the late '80's, the empty packaging from some sort of lighter and other various animal figurines from Red Rose tea boxes.

There is also a small table in the entryway- that drawer contains five keys of varying sizes and a purple bouncy ball, the kind you would get from a machine at the grocery store.

Right now I am sitting in the kitchen and the counter directly across from me is like a still life of our beach existence.

There are:

- two ears of corn (cause, you know, someone might want some at any given time, best to keep it handy)

- a jaccuzzi owner's manual topped with an awkward photo of myself, my mom, my brother and my sister all wearing sunglasses (taken night)

- a sleeve of Solo cups (best way to transport margaritas to the beach)

- a set of walkie talkies (for communicating from the beach to the house- mainly for the purpose of requesting drinks and snacks)

- an iPod doc/radio (for cooking music)

- little plastic cocktail cups (these are better for taking wine to the beach)

- some paint brushes in a jar (they are probably just still there from a touch up job done weeks ago)

- a camouflage-patterned flask (probably left by a recent guest- and will probably stay there until that person returns- or be relegated to the depths of the junk drawer)

Also, next to me on the counter is my sister's ID card from our 1994 season passes to Sesame Place.

I guess this is just what happens when you live in a place that is meant for vacationing.

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