Work Hard, Play Hard

I have mentioned before that when my brother was a baby, my parents bought a house near the end of Long Island by where my Grandparents lived as an investment for college fund. After 18+ years of enjoying our summers and other great times out there, we are now preparing for the house to be sold.

The living room after painting and setting up for the realtor

This morning my mom and I left at around 6:30 am to take the 2.5 hour drive out there. We arrived at the house and immediately began working. Our family is not one to take things lightly or to sit back and relax. It seems that we are always up, moving around and doing something. Today we calked, painted and set new trim in the bathroom as well as doing a bit of yard work, basic cleaning and air freshening. Every house and family has their own distinct smell to them; it is neither a good thing, nor a bad thing, just a certain smell. This house has always had a VERY strong beach smell and though I love and appreciate it, we thought that a little Febreeze may be a bit more enticing to a buyer coming out of New York City looking for a get-a-way home.

The front of our home

While we let the paint set and dry we drove out to Montauk and had lunch by the shore. I forget sometimes how much I love this place, and these beaches. The smell of the water will always and forever remind me of home as I grew up riding the waves and searching for critters under the three-foot inlet water with a snorkel. Very little has changed with the beaches out here, however, I have to say that the crowd has become somewhat less inviting. Over the past decade, the best of the worst have migrated to the end f the island bringing with them BMW 5 speeds, tiny yapper dogs and the longest sticks that have been forcefully stuck where the sun don't shine. The attitudes scream "I am better than you, and I know it." I used to be able to walk into an ice cream shop in my surfing gear, but now my hometown places have been replaced with Ralph Lauren and Tiffany Jewelry, not to mention the fact that their glares as I walk into those places could burn a hole through my eyes.

Yes. It is time to move on to the next adventure, the next home. I loved my time here and my memories will stay with me for the rest of my life. I am sure that I will talk more about them since they share a great deal of the molding that has made me, me . . . but for now I will simply end with the beginning, a sunset, to become a sunrise in a new place that is yet to be determined.

Sunset at Clearwater Beach, LI