Down the Shore

Down the shore.  It's such a funny Philly thing to say--well, for us misplaced Midwestern folk at least.  It usually means the New Jersey Shore.  And, typically, you have to state what section of The Shore you're going to--because their are many shores.  We went to Margate.  Just for the night.  And, although it drizzled and rained and drizzled some more, and the fact that William was probably the worst version of himself the entire time, and, the babes didn't sleep, we really had a lovely time.  It's always good to get out of town.  Good to see new places and get sand between your toes--and every other crevice, too.  It's good to see what you can do (the beach, for hours) and what you can't (have the babies sleep together).  We ate fruit, delicious pizza, and doughnuts.  Blessed raised doughnuts with frosting and sprinkles.  I adore sprinkles.  Can't explain it, but, I do!

When mist lays heavy, like it did while we were on the beach, it feels like there's magic brewing.  Like you're wrapped in mystery and possibility.  Delightful!