I walked the boulevard and visited the shops, both the old ones and the new that have sprung up in recent years. I stopped and inhaled the fragrances of Sanborn's candies and the Playland arcade. Watched tired parents tied to toddlers pace the route. Saw the four person bikes trundle past with laughing teenagers at the helm. Watched as people shot light bullets at the targets in the Casino shooting range, making a paper mache piano player play, and a dodo bird flap his wings. The woman running the shooting gallery now was wearing a Muslim head scarf. Instead of hearing English and French while walking around, I heard Turkish, Hindi, Spanish, and even Hebrew as a Hasidic merchant argued with a shop owner in front of a T-Shirt store. Goods for sale include Indian tapestries and lots of woven bags handcrafted in Nepal. It is a different Hampton now. I sill love it.
The nostalgia runs high and memories of my cousins and I spending weeks there in the summer come flooding back. Memories of my mom and dad packing for the cottage, and then taking the endless drive up in the backseat of a smoke-filled Nova. Part of nostalgia is a little sadness, and I am not immune. At one point after visiting many little kiosks of the same types of goods, I said to myself "I wish I'd stumble into something different to remind me of the fun of taking an indulgent trip to the beach." Lo and behold, within minutes, I saw a funny metal cockatoo sculpture that made me laugh out loud. "Look," the sales clerk said, in broken English, "It is also a candle holder!" and lifted its little metal wings revealing a cavity inside. A perfect incense holder has now been added to my art room. Just perfect.
Back to the bad mommy part. I visited a former colleague in his summer job at one of the restaurants, and while I could have hopped in the car and gotten home by meal time, I didn't. I just couldn't leave the crisp, salty air and quiet sea in favor of sitting in traffic. I decided to wait until after traffic time, write a little bit more, and relax. While I was there the pangs of guilt started -- the birds routine is being upset! They won't understand that I needed to be out a bit today. Missed their dinner time! Ask bird owners about this and I think they will understand. Dogs and cats can get by for a few hours with water and kibble, which mine always have available. Birds, though, seem to have internal wrist watches by which they organize their days. They know when it is a specific meal time and are not hesitant in asking for it should their human procrastinate. It is rare that I am not home to spoil the feathers and fulfill their gastronomic requests, so the guilt wasn't so bad on this one.
My friend at the parrot shop keeps telling me to board all the birdies and take a vacation this summer, and while I am tempted. It is just such a hassle. Also, my pups are old now, and I want to spend time with them. I truly miss the Tilman when I am not around. Toby, not so much, but Till and Ellie? Their white muzzles and stiff legs tell me they won't be here forever. The school year is so busy and I am always working, so the summertime is special. We all need each other in what must be a dysfunctional, human/animal way. Part of the reason I have such a big fur and feather family is to keep life cheerful and happy in my house as I've been physically a bit limited -- and it has worked wonderfully. I don't need to visit a tropical bird park in Florida -- I live with one! While it is a lot of work, often work that I have a hard time doing, I truly love being home. So, I suppose being a bad mommy that blew off mealtime in favor of a few extra hours of salty, refreshing air, is a forgivable extravagance.
Have to go now as Hapi is demanding toast and sounds a wee bit more threatening than normal! What will you make today?