Shore-ly you can’t be serious?

Tuesday is here! All around the world people are celebrating the fact that they made it through another manic Monday. Let’s join them, raise our figurative glasses, and cheers to surviving the worst day of the week (in my fair opinion).

Now that we’ve drained our metaphorical glasses, let us move on to more important business: ignoring our tasks around us to wax nostalgic about the good ol’ days….sounds peachy right? You would be correct….

 So this memory is brought to you by the movie “The Town” The movie is based in Boston, which made me think about my dad’s side of the family, which made me think of New Jersey, which made me think of the Shore….. and yes, I capitalized the Shore, because really, it IS it’s own place.

 The Shore house has been in our family for decades. Its teal slated walls and screened in porch has housed more memories than my mind can hold. I learned how to boogie board at that house, I swam with sharks for the first time at that house, I discovered horse flies at that house, and was subsequently BIT by one at that house (ohhhh how they hurt!!). There are so many quirks and endearments to the Strathmere house, its personality is quite large.

In order to give you a little peek inside our life at the shore, I thought I would do a short “itinerary” for you, since most trips end up looking the same way…..Usually, we would fly into Newark (the airport from h-e-double hockey sticks) and drive to my grandparent’s house in Bridgewater. After we’d stocked up on necessities, (toiletries, dried goods, etc) we would then drive the few hours to Strathmere. I always loved watching my surroundings change as we got closer to the ocean. The air was saltier, the roads became sandier, the trees turned from pines to palms. Since Strathmere is an island, we would cross a long bridge on our way over. Every time we hit that bridge, we’d all say, “and this is where Pierre gets excited!!” You see, Pierre was one of my dad’s dogs growing up (My great-grandmother actually ran over him with her car later on). Pierre would always know when they were getting close, because he would start to whine and wag his tail every time they came to the bridge that connected Strathmere to the mainland. Apparently, it just became necessary for us to reiterate that fact each time we came to the bridge. Upon arriving at the house, the adults would begin to unpack, while we kids would drop our bags in our rooms, and tear off towards the beach, running the 200 yards or so down the road till we hit the sand dunes. We would then immediately scope out the water, testing it for chill factor, seaweed content, and surfability. Yup, I just made that word up…..Upon inspection, we would return to the house to fulfill our unpacking duties, and to make sure that the “regulars” were all in place: The super size bag of Twix bars in the upper right hand cabinet of the kitchen, the drawer dedicated solely to permanent markers of every color as well as countless rolls of fruit mentos, and the Tupperware bins of Barbie dolls and action figures that were stowed in the corner of the living room. These things were mainstays at the house; they were never taken FROM the house, and they never ran out. It was as if little elves (aka my grandparents) came each season and stocked them, so that we children never had to go without that fruity taste of a mento, or the satisfaction of writing our friends letters with every color sharpie under the rainbow. Once we realized that everything was as it should be, we would finally settle down and prepare for the week. The water tank was turned on, boogie boards and beach chairs were taken out of storage, umbrellas were checked for missing parts, the little red wagon was filled with shovels and buckets. A lot of prep went into spending a day at the beach. Our family takes beach time seriously, which meant that we did not want to ever spend unnecessary time doing anything other than sunning and riding those waves….This meant that everything was packed the night before. We also took walkie talkies to the beach in order to radio to each other from the house, in case we needed anything while we were at the beach. Oh yeah, it was a skilled operation….

 Our days were pretty much the same at the Shore. While everyone would be waking up and getting breakfast ready (which always consisted of fruit bowls and crumb cake), my dad and I would go for a run around the island. Upon return, we’d all eat, and then head out to the beach (because, of course, we were already in our swim suits). Beach time lasted from 9-5, with a break for lunch between noon and 1pm. Sunning and swimming was like a typical workday, and the only reason you left early was if you were sick. Otherwise, the sand was your domain for the day. At around 5pm, we would all trickle back home, dragging our sandy bottoms up and over the dunes, back to the house. Then, it was time to hit the boardwalk!

To be continued….



  1. aw, i felt like i was at the Shore with you guys.

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