Getting away for the view and the junk

I've been to the beach with my friends. Gerrie had her laptop along so she blogged as she went and captured more detail than I will give you. I am really tired tonight, but it was totally worth the tired. Not that we did that much to tire us out. Read. Sewed. Walked on the beach. Shopped a little. Ate some really good ice cream. I ended up with a hide-a-bed instead of a real bed, so the first night I slept diagonally to avoid the hideous bar in the ribs. Not totally successful, so I pulled the mattress onto the floor for the next two nights. Better, but not like home.

We rented two condos, side by side. We sewed and visited in one and cooked and ate in the other. This worked really well. We didn't have to tidy up our sewing projects in order to eat. One of these days this condo is probably going to fall into the ocean. It's that close. Here's the view just beyond the picnic table you see above.

Just around the corner was this little shop:

These are my friends peering in the windows. It was, according to the sign, supposed to be open, but there was no one there. The stuff sitting around outside was intriguing. Do you see the shark's jawbone sitting on the stump? The stuff we could see through the windows was even more so.

Even the boneyard around the side of the shop was interesting. I have known and loved a close relative of that chair that sits soaked and rotting in the rain.

What had been a mild interest in what the funky little shop might hold was fast turning into an obsession. Where was the owner?? The place was supposed to be open, dammit! There was treasure in there, just beyond our reach. Nevermind that I spent most of last week hauling junk out of my own house to take to Goodwill, this was new junk!—well, old junk really, but new to us.

Pretty soon the owner arrived, breathless, bearing brownies and the key to the door. The power had been off that morning, so she had to wait til it came back on to bake her brownies—then she could come and unlock her shop. Finally we could inspect everything up close and personal. Junk, pretty much. Chia pets and mismatched glassware, souvenirs of long-forgotten vacations and old fishing poles and well-used cowboy boots. But the brownies were delicious.