We’re almost there folks. Third to the last day of #JusJoJan. We can make it to the finish line on Sunday of that I am sure!! Linda keeps writing very entertaining short stories. Look here to read her entry and to see the rules and ping back. C’mon on in to join us won’t you? Fun times ahead.
The prompt is beach. Let’s see what I can spin with that. I’m not a fiction writer. I am an exaggerator of the semi autobiographical genre. Yep! MSU = making stuff up. Almost everything I write is my observations being embellished or toned down or something in between. My off kilter perception.
This means when I saw the word beach, I flashed back to 1969 or maybe 1970. My childhood front and center of my memories once again. Back when we’d go to the little town of Port Aransas TX for vacation. Heck sometimes on a Saturday, we’d take a day trip to Port A. But mostly we’d go for the weekend camping out.
Little Jilly had a love/hate relationship with the beach. I remember the camping out with no electricity, only water. Nasty tasting stuff we’d get from a single shared spigot. We were only supposed to use the water to rinse off but sometimes we’d run out of the “drinking water jugs” we brought from home. We’d joke about eating “sand” sandwiches because sand would get on everything. Especially in the cracks of our butts :). Just yuck, the wet swimsuit and being all sandy was awful.
I always got sunburned! Sunscreen wasn’t really a thing yet and if it was, it cost too much. Sunup to sundown we were out in the water that reflected the rays right back in our faces. I remember many a rough trip home lying in the back of the station wagon in immense pain. First thing I did when I got home was to go the the fridge and get out the Noxema. That cold cream on my sunburned parts was sweet relief! Then came the blister and peel. Yeah buddy.
In the mid 70s, we graduated from that one section of the jetties with the water only set up to “On the Beach” trailer park. We had died and gone to hog heaven. We had water (good tasting stuff too), electricity, the concrete pad, and shared bathhouse. Funny that I don’t remember what we did for bathrooms at the original place. I think there were port-o-potties that I blocked from my memory. The best part the upgrade to our accommodations was we were still right on the beach. Best of both worlds!! We’d “walk the plank” (a wooden path) through some dunes right to the Gulf.
Still little Jilly had a love hate/relationship with the beach. I preferred our trips to New Braunfels, Lake Travis, Bastrop, or Garner Park. No sand sandwiches!!! Or sunburn. But my main issue was camping. Bleh! Lil sassy boots that I was always said “when I grow up and get married, my family and I will stay in a motel!” Roughing it was for the birds. Some times when the older siblings would come with us, they’d stay in the Spanish Village motel just down the road in town. Lucky!
Little did I know how much my parents struggled to give us what they did. Doing without for us. The difference in price between the trailer park and a motel was probably two weeks worth of groceries. But I was in my protected bubble none the wiser acting all sour grapes. What a brat! I’m glad I grew out of that stage. Grateful is a much better place to be.
And yes, when I grew up, B & I took the kids to the Holiday Inn Emerald Isle in Corpus Christi. A beach-esque vacation. With a swimming pool, hot tub, and sauna. Plus mini-golf! We had to drive to Port Aransas for the day to experience the “real” beach. Slathering them in sunscreen to prevent sunburns. With admonitions to be careful in the air. Not the full out wildness I experienced as a kid. I guess they had fun. I was usually too stressed out to notice.
I sure do miss my parents. And the family get-togethers we had once upon a time. Life was somehow simpler then but I didn’t realize it at the time. I should have spent more time living in the moment. If only, … but not really. My experiences make me who I am today. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
As always, more to come.