It’s hard to believe that my baby is NINE YEARS OLD. He had a great day celebrating his birthday with the family.

After a full day of fishing on the boat, and then finishing up the afternoon and evening on the beach, we finally got to the cake around 8:00.

I can’t believe it’s already July 1. It’s just crazy how quickly the summer is moving. Sure, we got out of school a little late, but we’re already about done with our second week of summer vacation, and it’s just moving way, way too quickly.

Thankfully, we’ve had some really great beach days and some super nice pool days, too.

My favorite time at the ocean is during the morning hours. The sun sparkles on the water, and there is a certain calm that isn’t there any other time of the day. Ethan, my mom and I have been hitting the beach around 8:00 a.m. a few mornings a week and taking full advantage of the ocean’s beauty.

This photo would make my dad smile, just like it makes me smile. I think of him every time I step onto the sand, and see the ocean’s beauty and I know that somehow, he’s enjoying these days right along with me.

Ethan and I spent the afternoon helping our lifeguard, Lydia, get the pool ready for the opening on Memorial Weekend. Lydia and I arranged and scrubbed the pool furniture and Ethan tested the water, with both chemicals and his body.

I was a teenager during the late 70s. The days were easy, we were safe, life was good. We listened to a lot of music, smoked a lot of pot, experimented with other natural and not so natural stuff. I went barefoot all summer, and spent most of my time outdoors.

When my girlfriends and I were in high school, we found out about the ultimate party house through some other friends. It was the dream spot. A cottage right on the bay, tons of free pot to smoke since the owner grew his own, and lots of free adult beverages. We listend to a ton of Pink Floyd, John Prine, New Riders of the Purple Sage, Flying Burrito Brothers and Neil Young.

The drinks were always the same. Moon Juice. A pink concoction with vodka, lemonade and grenadine and gosh only knows what else. At 17, we thought we were the luckiest girls on earth. We could sit on the beach all summer, sipping moon juice, smoking red bud, without having to worry about parents or the police.

Or so we thought. First off, the owner of the house was not a kid. Not by any means. He was a man in his 40s, with children in their 20s, and he used the excuse of wanting to have young girls around because it reminded him of when his son was still alive. His son was decapitated in a horrible car accident when he was 17, and he said having young people around was sort of a tribute to his son. Yeah, right.

But we were naive, innocent and believed it all. We hung out there for a couple of summers and life continued to be good and safe. He didn’t hit on us, although there were rumours that he and one 18 year old were a couple. Hmmm…she did spend the nights there quite a bit. That said, the majority of us were pretty much grossed out by this revelation, but the perks of hanging out there were too much to give up and we partied on.

We partied on, and it was usually the same 10 to 15 girls who would show up at different times on the weekends. One day a new girl showed up. I don’t remember who she came with or when she first arrive on the scene. She was in her early 20s, so OLD by our standards, and she wasn’t pretty like the rest of us. She was a chubbier, older girl and she started hanging out a lot. She got pretty close with our group, and was nice enough. It even seemed that she might be forming more than a friendship with the owner of the house. We didn’t think much of it until…

One night we showed up, and she was there alone. We asked where John was, and she let us know he was due to arrive shortly. And then she sprung it on us. She told us she was with the narcotics division of the Virginia Beach Police Department and because we were young, innocent and not involved with selling drugs, she was going to cut us some slack and tell us to get the hell out of there before a large bust took place. She knew we were all from decent families, and decent kids making good grades with college on the horizon. Of course, we bolted. Hell, we were scared shitless.

Two days later the papers covered the story of a large drug bust. A drug bust that included things much bigger than a few pot plants, and could have easily gone down while we were present. I often think back to that time and wonder why we thought it was okay to hang out with a man that age. A man willing to plow us with drinks, pot and hallucinogens. I also wonder what happened to that guy, and were we just a reminder of his lost son, or did he just enjoy teenage girls in bikinis hanging out at his house all day and night.

I really need to start blogging again. Is blogging even a word anymore? I should probably try and find a different word, a different way to just keep track of the important things that happen in our lives. Even if it’s just a picture, a sentence, a quick thought.

So many things have happened in 2010. Some very difficult things. Losing my dad being the biggest of all those things, but also his illness prior to his death. Taking care of my dad, and understanding his illness has changed me, changed how I see things, changed what matters the most.

I’ve been spending most days with my mom now, helping her get through losing the love of her life. It’s hard enough for me to go through life without my dad. I can’t even pretend to come close to understanding what this is like for my mom. They were married for 55 years, and it was one of those marriages that stories are made of. Constant companions, who truly loved each other and who actually lived the vows they made to each other every day of their lives.

We’re getting through the days, and we do it with smiles and good memories, but a day doesn’t go by where I don’t miss my dad and his smile, and especially the love he had for all of us.

Ethan and I headed down to the oceanfront this afternoon to check out the waves, wind and rain that are blowing in from the Nor’easter that hit today. Tomorrow’s supposed to be even worse, with very high tidal surges.

Ethan’s soccer portrait. He loves playing soccer so much, and especially being part of a team. He had great coaches this year, and had a fun bunch of kids on his team. I actually hate to see the season end this Saturday.

The newest addition to the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series hit stores today. We went straight after school to pick up our pre-ordered copy. It worked out perfectly because Ethan came home with an EXCELLENT progress report, and I had a 40% off coupon for any one regular priced item.

This is Ethan, standing in front of my Empress Tree. At the end of each summer, I cut that tall thing back, and each year it returns. Growing taller and with much larger leaves. I never planted this thing, but there is one several doors down from me. There tree does not make nearly the statement mine does. The leaves are only half the size and it’s too bushy. I do some strategic pruning and have created what I refer to as “The Magic Beanstalk.”