A Day at the Beach

Image via WikipediaOne of the joys of being a small business owner is being able to take a full day off to play - go shopping, go to the beach or just bum around the house in my pajamas.  Last Thursday, despite the 100-degree temps, the girls and I headed down to the beach.  We love going to the one at Ft. Fisher - ample free parking and lifeguards, as well as showers and bathrooms.  Perfect, right?  And Thursday was topped off with just a little more perfection, as the risk warning was low, the water was the perfect temp and the waves were pretty mild.

Ft. Fisher tends to be a popular beach with locals, whether full-year or half-year locals, because there aren't any hotels at Ft. Fisher, it's way down the island and not many people know there's a beach there.  Since it's the preferred beach for locals, you also very seldom have to deal with those annoying tendencies that tourists display, like blasting music, getting drunk or feeding the seagulls on a crowded beach (for you readers who don't do the beach regularly, flying isn't the only thing seagulls do in the air - think about it).  We had gone to this same beach as a family the Saturday before, and there was a couple feeding the seagulls and taking pictures.  That might look cute in the vacation photos, but it's darn annoying to other beachcombers.

Even with the majority of beachgoers being locals, the occasion family of tourists finds their way to this peaceful stretch of beach.  It makes for some interesting people watching, one of my favorite pasttimes.

The girls and I set up our towels and cooler and headed to the water.  The waves were maybe knee-high to my older daughter and the seashells were ample.  They found some fascinating ones, including some lovely, unusual brown ones.  I'm going to dig out a corner shelf we have buried in the garage, hang it in the powder room and start placing the girls' beach finds in a squat glass jar on it (our powder room is done in shells).  And ya know, it doesn't matter if the shells are partials or whole, if I think they're beautiful or not, they think they're treasures, so they're special.

So... To the people watching...

There were your typical families, or typical 3/4 of families (figuring that those kids with only one parent with them probably have another parent working).  There were some military couples and families.  Way down the beach past the range of the lifeguard stations is a very open, not heavily populated section of beach where many of the dog fans hang out.  There's lots of room here to let pets run wild on leashes and play in the water without disturbing other beachgoers.  To me, this is a nice compromise.  Some beaches don't allow dogs on the beach during the tourist season; I'm glad this one does.  We saw quite a few attractive single guys with friendly dogs, and my youngest especially loved petting them - the dogs, not the guys.  I'm only adding this for any of you single folks who might be reading this.  If you want to pick up people at the beach, bring either a cute, friendly dog or a cute, friendly child.  No, I'm not renting out my youngest for this purpose.

There was one family that was remarkable because, well, they looked rather ridiculous.  Typical family - mom, dad, three kids.  The kids (the youngest older than my youngest and the oldest about the same age as my oldest) and the dad were all wearing life vests.  The mom was wearing a hat, as was the dad, and the dad was wearing his sunglasses.  People who go to the beach know, you don't wear hats or sunglasses in the water unless you want to lose them.  Then dad pulls out his cell phone to take some pictures.  That's not so unusual in this day and age.  Risky, and one I've taken myself, but not uncommon.  The girls and I played a bit more, then took a walk down the beach.  I was surprised that even my Wee One survived that hike on her little legs!  We came back to our section of beach for a little bit more play, and I noticed that this dad had his cell phone out again - and was talking on it while trying to hold on to his daughter in the increasingly rough water (tide change).  Seriously???  Is there anyone who's so important that they have to field phone calls at the beach... in the water... and while trying to protect your child?

We soon rinsed off and left for home.  The firstborn stayed awake the whole trip home; the Wee One never even made it off the island before she was sooouuuuuund asleep.  It was an awesome day, and we were just sorry that our plans to enjoy it with friends fell through.

Tomorrow we start third grade in homeschool, and our mid-week trips to the beach will have to wait nine weeks.  Maybe.  

What's the craziest thing you've seen at the beach?

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Making Soap New School

Last month, I discovered that my Great-Grandma used to make her own soap.  Dad says that stuff would dry up poison ivy in twenty-four hours!  Yeah, it was that strong.  It shouldn't surprise me that Grandma made her own soap.  After all, in the early 20th century, pretty much every good farm wife made soap for the family, for bathing, laundry and washing dishes.  I'm impressed, though, because not only did Grandma make her own soap, but she also made her own lye.

Still, while this was a common practice a hundred years ago and not terribly remarkable, it's somehow thrilling to me to realize that I've got soapmaking in my family tree, especially a lady I loved and admired a great deal.  When Dad was over at our house a few days after telling me this, I happened to be making a batch of laundry soap in the crockpot.  This is soapmaking new school.  He remembers watching his grandma standing over a black iron pot over an open flame in the yard, stirring the soap endlessly, waiting for it to saponify (become soap).  This would take hours!  Keep in mind, a batch had to bathe all the bodies, all the clothes and all the dishes, and the larger the batch, the longer it takes to "become." 

Now, my soaps won't clear up poison ivy in twenty-four hours, and I have to specially formulate the batch to make it suitable for laundry.  Yes, my laundry soap will get you clean, but it's not nearly as moisturizing as my goat's milk soaps.  So what does "new school" look like?

Lye is bought, not made.  You can make lye by pouring water through ashes, over and over, but this makes a combination of sodium hydroxide (lye) and potassium hydroxide (potash).  I don't have an easy source for ashes, so I just buy my lye over the Internet, or, if I'm out and desperate, at the local hardware store.

Stirring is done by a stick blender, not by hand-stirring with a wooden spoon.  Hand stirring soap can take a few hours at best with some batches.  Stirring with a stick blender takes about five minutes, max.  This spares the arms a lot of agony, plus gets the soapmaker on with life faster.

Soap can cure for longer periods.  Folks like my Great-Grandma didn't have four-to-eight weeks to wait for soap to cure before they could use it.  It needed to be ready right then.

The crock pot has replaced the iron pot (at least in my kitchen).  Instead of adding heat by cooking the soap over an open flame, now we let the crockpot do all the work for us.  It's not quite a matter of turning it on and forgetting about it, but it's close.  My soap can cook in as little as 45 minutes or as long as three hours.  Either way, I'm not stirring it constantly.

So...  For what "old fashioned" thing are you grateful we have modern equivalents now?

Sixty-four a Day

Sixty-four... what?  Bars of soap?  Sometimes!  Bottles of lotion?  Possibly.  Tubes of lip balm?  Nope.

Sixty-four ounces of water daily.  This is my favorite and easiest fitness trick.  I start with 16 ounces when I take my morning pills - eight for my multivitamin, another eight for my Claritin.  This is a hard goal to reach when it's 35 degrees and cloudy outside.  After all, who wants to put even tap cold water into a body already bundled up against the cold?  However, as the days get warmer and more humid, that 64 ounces is very attainable.

I use water to stave off cravings, too.  My family gave me a scrumptious Andes Mint Cheesecake for Mother's Day, some of which is still in the fridge.  Last night I was thinking, "Hm, a slice of that sure would be good!"  Then I remembered something a friend told me one time:  "Hunger can also be your body's way of telling you you're dehydrated."  That stuck with me, and often when I find myself really wanting a sweet something (like a slice of cheesecake), I instead bypass the fridge and pantry and refill my water cup.  Works almost every time (though I'm not opposed to grabbing a Kiss from the bowl, either).

Question...  What's your favorite and easiest fitness trick?