Myrtle Beach

Every morning I woke at 5:30 and watched the sunrise over the sand and tall grass and worked on my screenplay. In the afternoons I built sandcastles, ran on the beach, played frisbee and bobbed in the waves with the kids.

I bought that shirt at a thrift store for .99 cents. Isn't that amazing? It's the real deal -- with a frayed Penneys tag from like 1956.

The smallest of the Leindecker cousins (Marcaus) woke up every morning by 6 so the cousins were up and going soon after. My in-laws like tv a lot more than we do so I found out about a frightening new incarnation of The Wiggles -- The Doodlebops. Think smurfs on heroine in Stepford. Ahhh the things that cousins pass on to each other...

that's our cottage where we all feasted on crockpots and ovens full of red meat and potatoes and hearty sauces and casseroles every night. In fact, we may be headed back to start cooking when this picture was taken...

Lynn read _Little Altars Everywhere_ & _The Flight of Peter Fromme_. She's so full of curiousity and conversation. Walks on the beach with her are always the best thing that could happen. Plus. She's beautiful.

One night I fell asleep on the porch. It felt like I was living inside of waves. Another night, just after I finished Marsden's _Fundamentalists and American Culture_, I sat on the beach and wondered what it had been like to be my grandparents who all chose to become fundamentalists as converts in the late 1940s and early 50s. The sound of the waves is the best sense memory from the whole week.