The summer of 2009 I decided that I wanted to go to the beach. I have always loved the beach. I love the smell, the feel, the HEAT! Scott got on line and found us a beach house and away we went. Even at 33 weeks pregnant I had a nice time. When we arrived at our beach house, there was a basket of fake fruit and vegetables. You would have thought my children had struck gold. Forget all of the toys they had packed, smuggled, and dragged from home. No, no. They had fake apples and oranges to roll across the floor. And for some reason, my children took quite a liking to the cucumber. They fought over it. Brought it to the beach. Really it was no surprise when I was unpacking my daughter's suitcase and found the cucumber tucked in there.
And it has been a regular in the favorite toy pile. Not sure what it is really. But tonight when I was walking to the bathroom, I tripped on the cucumber. Normally after twisting my ankle and screaming in pain, I call for the kids to please not leave their toys outside my door. But tonight I picked up the cucumber and put it on my nightstand.
This may seem silly, but it makes me happy thinking of the trip. Remembering the sun and the smell of the ocean. Digging in the sand with the kids and laughing as the waves knocked us over. It gives me hope in this dreary month of January, that the sun will come again. So will sand castles and green grass. Although I do not like to skip over today's blessings, it is nice to think of the day with flip flops and tee-shirts. Perhaps I will keep the cucumber awhile to remind me.