Rabble-Rouser

Summer time. Hot weather, long days, miles of sandy shore, downtown bathed in evening light, sun setting through hazy mountain range after hazy mountain range... there's nothing better than heading down to the beach for a picnic and an evening swim. I've been getting down to Kits, Jericho, Locarno, Spanish Banks - you name it - as much as I possibly can these days. After hikes, after work, whenever. The water is cool and refreshing, and the warm sand between my toes and salt on my skin just makes me SO happy! So happy that I start acting like a CRAAAAZY woman. Clearly.

I went down to Jericho with a friend from work tonight and packed us a picnic - a nice crispy salad, chicken, and a desert of angel food cake, fresh strawberries, and whipped cream. The store was out of the regular kind, so I was forced to get chocolate whipped cream (!!!!!!!) instead. Life is ROUGH.

But it was also HOT, and we are both teaching summer school, and it's summer, and the beach, and I was in the mood for some danger, so I popped a couple of beers in the cooler, too.

Oh yeah.

This is only hilarious because of the fact that I rarely drink, and when I do I don't even really LIKE beer (though the lighter kinds are growing on me), and I'm WAY too much of a goody goody. But I popped those beers in the cooler and we drank them and golly-shucks-DARN they were good!

I only had a minor coronary when the coppers who patrol the beach on their quads (seriously. Can *I* have that job, PLEASE? Drive up and down the beach all evening on a four by four? Rough life!) pulled up, spotted our dinner and cooler, and stopped to hang around a bit to keep an eye. Public drinking and revelry? Booyahshaka! You betcher booties! But we played it cool. Reeeeal cool. The Fuzz never knew a thing, and we busted out the booze... after they were long gone and my heart had stopped palpitating.

In fact, we were SUCH party animals that we didn't even finish one beer each.

Now THAT'S what I call LIVIN' ON THE EDGE!!!!

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