Our story continues. . .

After zipping around the house like a crazed hummingbird, I was definately ready for a vacation. I collapsed into a useless lump in the passenger seat of the minivan as John herded the boys into their seats. The ride in the minivan was pure bliss; there was no whining remarks of "I'm too hot/cold." from the peanut gallery in the back seat. Each boy has their own vent on the ceiling.

The excitement in the vehicle mounted when, two hours later, gentle rolling plains gave way to marshland. Giant white cranes rose in graceful assent on both sides of the road as if welcoming us back "home." We arrived in Rockport after seven, and our first stop was. . .you guessed it. . .The Big Fisherman; again, we weren' t disappointed. They served me a portion of fish that even the hungriest lumberjack would have a hard time finishing.

We stayed at the Sandollar Resort, in one of the large suites, which was about the size of three hotel rooms put together. There are really no words to describe the view from my balcony. Every morning I watched the sun rise over the ocean, as I sat on the balcony and sipped my coffee; and every morning I felt moved to tears by the shear beauty of it.

Here's a picture I took early one morning.

I was quite spoiled on this trip. Every morning, before we started our explorations of the day, my wondurful hubby whisked us off to Starbucks, to "start the day off right," he said. The Rockport Starbucks had a spacious patio facing the ocean, complete with over-stuffed chairs, and retro music (1980's. I felt extremely old)piped outdoors.

We never miss an opportunity to educate our children, and on the first full day in Rockport, we stopped by the Texas Maritime Museum. John and Seth viewed the exhibits at their leisure. I, on the other hand, saw the exhibits as a blur as I chased "Energizer Bunny" double, Robert, around the museum.

Wednesday, John gave in to the pleadings of the boys, and we made the trip to the beach on Mustang Island . My youth revisted me as Seth and I splashed in the waves, and I schooled him in the art of body surfing. I'm not that great, but we had a wonderful time until I felt something squirming up one of my shorts' legs.

My heart caught in my throat as my mind flashed back to all the Jaws movies. I envisioned myself walking back to the beach chomped in half, a split personality. I don't know where I found the guts, but reaching down, I gave the leg of my shorts a shake, and was astonished when a fish--the length of my wrist to my elbow swam away.

Dang, that could have been supper, I fumed. Like a pouting schoolgirl, I stormed back to the beach and told John the story. "Sorry to tell you babe," he said cooly, "but all the fish in the ocean have teeth."

Great. My butt was almost fish bait. Glad to know it's good for something.

There aren't any places to change on the beach, except behind the sand dunes, which were 100 yards or more from the beach-goers.. The dune I tackled seemed as endless as the Sahara desert. Gasping like a fish out of water, I reached the top, and half-ran, half-walked down the other side into a deep depression. Dunes rose up on all sides of me, and I payed I had the strength to escape my sandy prison. I also prayed the park police wouldn't come over one of the dunes and see me changing. Wouldn't that have been cute?

Before going out to dinner, we saw the Big Tree at Goose Island State Park. I was in awe as I stared at the giant who had withstood over 1000 years of hurricanes. Cursed with a sense of adventure, I strayed off the beaten path and wandered toward the dense woods. I heard the rasping of dead leaves as an unknown creature raced toward me. I grew up in the country, and animals don't alarm me; but when they run right across my foot, well, that a "horse of a different color." I screamed like a banshee and danced on one foot as a squirrel --I swear it was the size of a horse, really-- galloped across my foot. A few months ago, my friend Perpetualchocoholic posted about learning an orphaned baby squirrel needed to be "peed"; that darned squirrel almost peed me.

"Hey Mom, you looked like a giant crane dancing around." Smart alek. He would have run off like his pants were on fire.

"Hey, the squirrel is pretty smart. He knows a big nut when he sees it," John quipped. The next day we loaded up and headed home. All too soon our time of magic and wonder ended.