Carry on.

Day at the beach

The joys that we experience can come from some of the most unexpected places.

After a peaceful, thought provoking weekend at General Conference, we decided to take the kids out to White Rock to give them a little walk along the dock and the boardwalk. We found it quite difficult to get parking, so we ended up parking at the second beach area, just east of the dock and found one within a few minutes!

The tide had gone completely out and we were lucky to have the opportunity to walk on the mud flats and sand since the water had gone out so far. Zeta had the foresight to demand a shovel and we had fun digging into little holes.

It’s funny how we remember the weirdest little things from the time we were young. I remembered where to find out where clams were in the sand by looking for the little indentations in the sand with the little circles in them. We dug up a few and E. would always ask, “Are these safe to eat? Can’t we just take them home and cook them?”

“We need to check the fishing guide to make sure.”

Then the most funniest thing happened: I dug up a sea worm… you know.. wriggly kind with fangs that can leave a nasty bite mark on your finger if you’re not careful. I showed E. and she just jumped four feet in the air and ran away! I had a bit of fun chasing her with the worm on the shovel. Wow… after almost ten years of knowing her, I didn’t know that she has a big phobia of worms or anything wriggly!

The kids had fun watching me dig up clams and we all decided that since we were on the beach that we would end up getting wet anyway. We waved that the burlington Northern train as it chugged slowly by.

We had fun running around the beach without a care in the world. It reminded me of the times where mom and dad would take themselves crabbing and leaving us along the seashore… kinda like how mother seals leave their young ones while they go off fishing. Only mom and dad and their friends would take their pitchforks, brooms and rice sacks and hunt for dungeness and rock crabs. Mom would hide them in their purse in case the fishing warden would inspect.

I hope the children remember this day. I sure will.

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