The day we went to the beach...

was Father's Day. I thought that would be a fun outing...something Daniel would enjoy even though he'd have to drive (have I ever mentioned that I don't drive here in the City). Well, we were told by Sister Lucille of a good beach out on Long Island where she grew up. She said not to go until 5pm or so as to avoid crowds and paying the fee. So after a late lunch of hamburgers and naps, we left Manhattan where in our house it was 90 degrees. We had our summer clothes on, of course, and only a few towels for drying off.

After an hour drive, we arrive around 6:30pm to an almost deserted but real, bonafide, sandy, shell-strewn beach. Immediately we all start shivering...partly out of excitement, mostly out of coldness. It was sooo windy and so not 90 degrees. Well, no matter, we'd driven all that way to a beach and cold or hot we'd enjoy it. So we did. We didn't go in the water much, but we played in the sand and had a grand ol' time for as long as we could stand. We decide to go when we couldn't understand what Emmanuel was saying because his teeth were chattering too much.

After shaking out as much sand as possible from each of us, we load into the car. At this point there are only 2 other cars in the parking lot, and those people are loading up to go home also. Daniel starts the car and shifts into drive....or not. He yanks down on the gear changer-dealy...it doesn't budge. After a few more furious yanks, and no movement we take a nice deep breath.

Panic...no let's pray. We all pray and then he tries again. I am looking around at the parking lot, realizing that an hour away from anyone we know up here is not the best place to be when our car fails to move on a Sunday evening. Then Daniel gets an inspiration and looks underneath where the break pedal is and jiggles a wire a bit while pulling down on the gear shifter. That worked. Praise the Lord.

We didn't take many pictures since we were busy trying to stay warm.