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The Outer Banks of North Carolina are simply fabulous. A clean white sand beach that stretched north and south as far as the eye could see and a gentle surf, not too calm and not too rough. It was heaven on earth.
Actually, the whole vacation was pretty damned good. It was even an extra day long. I was originally supposed to drive to my brother’s house in New Jersey, stay overnight there on Thursday 6/15. He, his wife Jane, and I would then drive most of the way down to North Carolina Friday and stop off in a motel for the night. This would mean that we could hit the beach for a few hours on Saturday before we were allowed into the rental house at 4 p.m.
Instead, we got the word that we could have the house a day early, on Friday. So, we hit the road at 8:30 a.m. Friday with an incredibly packed car and drove straight through. Most of the car was full of food and supplies for the week. I brought coffee, boxed milk, sugar, and the makings for a large amount of baked ziti. Mike and Jane brought enormous amounts of paper products, several bottles of wine and liquor, and the makings of a really neat sausage and pasta dinner.
On the way, we touched base by phone with my brother Gerald (the official patriarch of the family) and his wife Helen, who were driving down together, and my nephew Paul (Gerald’s younger son), who was driving down with his kids, Matthew, Patrick, and Meaghan.
We got to the house around 4:30. I had never been to the Outer Banks before and was expecting the houses to be farther apart. Instead, these large, nice looking houses were about 10 feet apart. Our house was the third in from the beach, which meant an enormous walk of 100 yards to the beach.
The house was huge, at least 3000 square feet. Four bedrooms that slept two, one that slept four in bunk beds, and a daybed on the ground floor, where the ping-pong table was. I got the daybed because I was the only singleton in the group and because I signed onto this jaunt late. The fully stocked kitchen was on the top floor, with most of the bedrooms on the second floor. This made for a lot of stair climbing each day. There was a pool out back and a hot tub on the front deck, and three levels of deck.
The rest of the contingent arrived at midnight. My sister Sue and her husband Rob had flown out from Arizona to my nephew Mark’s house in Durham. From there, they drove to the Outer Banks with Mark and his wife Kim and their two daughters, Zoë and Talia.
Ten adults, five children under age 10, with one just under a year old. We had a blast. We annoyed each other occasionally, but had no arguments. This is hardly believable to most people. Then again, I don’t believe it either.
Each night, someone was in charge of putting together a dinner. We ate like royalty and the last night, we ate leftovers. Wednesday, Mark arranged a tasting of red wines, which was interesting. Paul made Bloody Marys most afternoons, and much beer was imbibed all week long. I made Margaritas a couple of times. Most nights at dinner, my brother Mike threw out a topic of conversation, such as having everyone name his or her favorite movies or books.
Most days, we all played it loose and did what we wanted to. I usually hit the beach around 11 and stayed until 3 or 4. Mark had set up a screen tent on the beach to keep the sun off his incredibly pale children. It was a very civilized beach. We had cold beers in a cooler.
On Tuesday, I had a personal red letter day. For the first time since the surgery, I did not have a single bandage on any part of my body.
Every day except one, I walked for an hour on the beach. Either I listened to a book on my MP3 player, or I walked with Jane and we talked.
Saturday afternoon, I saw a pod of dolphins. Like I said, it was a perfect vacation.
Actually, the whole vacation was pretty damned good. It was even an extra day long. I was originally supposed to drive to my brother’s house in New Jersey, stay overnight there on Thursday 6/15. He, his wife Jane, and I would then drive most of the way down to North Carolina Friday and stop off in a motel for the night. This would mean that we could hit the beach for a few hours on Saturday before we were allowed into the rental house at 4 p.m.
Instead, we got the word that we could have the house a day early, on Friday. So, we hit the road at 8:30 a.m. Friday with an incredibly packed car and drove straight through. Most of the car was full of food and supplies for the week. I brought coffee, boxed milk, sugar, and the makings for a large amount of baked ziti. Mike and Jane brought enormous amounts of paper products, several bottles of wine and liquor, and the makings of a really neat sausage and pasta dinner.
On the way, we touched base by phone with my brother Gerald (the official patriarch of the family) and his wife Helen, who were driving down together, and my nephew Paul (Gerald’s younger son), who was driving down with his kids, Matthew, Patrick, and Meaghan.
We got to the house around 4:30. I had never been to the Outer Banks before and was expecting the houses to be farther apart. Instead, these large, nice looking houses were about 10 feet apart. Our house was the third in from the beach, which meant an enormous walk of 100 yards to the beach.
The house was huge, at least 3000 square feet. Four bedrooms that slept two, one that slept four in bunk beds, and a daybed on the ground floor, where the ping-pong table was. I got the daybed because I was the only singleton in the group and because I signed onto this jaunt late. The fully stocked kitchen was on the top floor, with most of the bedrooms on the second floor. This made for a lot of stair climbing each day. There was a pool out back and a hot tub on the front deck, and three levels of deck.
The rest of the contingent arrived at midnight. My sister Sue and her husband Rob had flown out from Arizona to my nephew Mark’s house in Durham. From there, they drove to the Outer Banks with Mark and his wife Kim and their two daughters, Zoë and Talia.
Ten adults, five children under age 10, with one just under a year old. We had a blast. We annoyed each other occasionally, but had no arguments. This is hardly believable to most people. Then again, I don’t believe it either.
Each night, someone was in charge of putting together a dinner. We ate like royalty and the last night, we ate leftovers. Wednesday, Mark arranged a tasting of red wines, which was interesting. Paul made Bloody Marys most afternoons, and much beer was imbibed all week long. I made Margaritas a couple of times. Most nights at dinner, my brother Mike threw out a topic of conversation, such as having everyone name his or her favorite movies or books.
Most days, we all played it loose and did what we wanted to. I usually hit the beach around 11 and stayed until 3 or 4. Mark had set up a screen tent on the beach to keep the sun off his incredibly pale children. It was a very civilized beach. We had cold beers in a cooler.
On Tuesday, I had a personal red letter day. For the first time since the surgery, I did not have a single bandage on any part of my body.
Every day except one, I walked for an hour on the beach. Either I listened to a book on my MP3 player, or I walked with Jane and we talked.
Saturday afternoon, I saw a pod of dolphins. Like I said, it was a perfect vacation.
posted by Valerie DeBenedette at 8:33 PM
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