WHAT'S IN OUR BEACH BAGS? by The Sand in our Shorts Gang

Who would have thought? It's been almost a year since we started the SAND IN OUR SHORTS blog! What fun! 

When we started out, the original group of contributing authors worked together on an article, "What's in Our Beach Bags?"  We never published it.  We'll, here we are a year into this adventure, and on the cusp of another summer. So we thought, "Why not publish it now?" And here we go! A special mid-week post! 

As we all get ready to head to the beach for a little R&R (that's Reading and Relaxation, which is what writers do), we asked each what they have in their beach bag. Here are their answers:

Michael Rigg:

My beach bag has lots of sunscreen (I like the spray-on kind)—with as many SPFs as you can get—a big-brimmed straw hat, sunglasses, binoculars, and a small cooler with cold soda and water. Maybe I’ll throw in a bag of munchies, if there’s enough room. I’ll also need to bring an umbrella because I’m not supposed to get too much sun. I don’t do well reading in the sun, but I’ll bring a copy of Virginia is for Mysteries III to impress everyone around me! The final thing in my bag is a beach towel. Oh, and my iPhone. Along with my umbrella (which probably won’t fit in my bag), I’ll have a nice folding chair. Maybe instead of a beach bag, I need one of those beach carts with the humongous wheels.

 

Jayne Ormerod:

I've got a lot of sand in the bottom of my beach bag. Lots and lots of sand. Could almost start my own private beach in my backyard. That's testament to frequent trips to the beach to watch the sailboat races, enjoyment of which is augmented while sipping a glass of wine at sunset. This requires that I also keep wine glass stakes in my beach bag. They are posts that are shoved into the sand close to my chair. They have a little knob at the top in which to slip the stem of my wine glass, holding it upright throughout the evening and thus preventing spillage. Wine spillage is a class-one felony at my beach. Cheers!

WHEN BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD CHARACTERS BY Guest Blogger Jayne Ormerod

“Stop jumping on the bed before you fall off and crack your head open!”

How many times did you hear that when you were young? Or perhaps yelled it to rambunctious children yourself? Okay, now raise your hand if you’re guilty of leaping fearlessly across the chasm between twin beds anyway, and managed to do so safely. I see I’m in good company.

Yes, I’ve knocked a few pictures askew, broken a lamp or two, maybe even left a few dents in the plaster wall, but I have never, ever, in all my years of bed jumping, cracked my head open. Leave it to my mom to always warn me about the worst possible outcome of any situation.

“Don’t run with scissors or you’ll poke your eye out.”

“Don’t get near the lawnmower without shoes on or you’ll cut your foot off.”

“Don’t lick the beaters while the mixer is on because it will yank your tongue clear out of your mouth.”

TALK TURKEY TO ME! By Jayne Ormerod

There comes a time when a woman must start hosting her own Thanksgiving celebrations. For me that day came at the tender age of 22, when I married a Naval officer and moved 2,500 miles away from family. Had I any inkling that I would have to prepare Thanksgiving feasts entirely on my own, my childhood holidays would have been better spent hanging out in the kitchen learning the tricks of preparing a flawless holiday mean instead of curling up in an over-sized armchair with my nose buried in the latest Nancy Drew mystery. As a result, I’ve had to learn a lot of Turkey Day lessons the hard way.

In the spirit of the season, today I’m offering a Top Five List of Things I Wish My Mother Had Taught Me about Preparing (and Enjoying) a Thanksgiving Feast:

THE WRITERLY LIFE: PERCEPTION vs. REALITY by Jayne Ormerod

Many people I’ve met are envious of the writerly life. But their perceptions of what it’s like to be a writer don’t quite match up to reality. Here are my observations.

     What society thinks I do: Spend all day rolling around in my royalty money.

     What my friends think I do: Go to lunch with them (well, yes, I do that a lot) and then go home and roll around in royalty money.

     What my family thinks I do: Binge on Chunky Monkey ice cream while watching TV, reaching out to tap out a few lofty and erudite sentences when the muse hits. (In my defense I do need to “study” the “occasional” movie for plotting and dialogue training. But it’s all under the banner of “continuing education.") And then roll around in royalty money.

A DAY AT THE BEACH by Jayne Ormerod

It’s that time of year, you know, beach season. A time to pack up your beach bag and escape to the shore for bit of fun and sun (and in my case, the inevitable sunburn).

Popular activities which can only be enjoyed at the beach include body surfing, boogie boarding, sand-castle building, and fighting off seagulls for the last potato chip on your plate.

As the sun goes down, you repack your bag and head for a local beach dive bar. Popular post-day-at-the-beach drinks include Pina Colada, Mojito, Orange Crush, and the much less popular but certainly appropriate Seagull Wine. Not something I've ever heard of, but I'm picturing a nice pinot gris with a soaring seagull on its label. I could not be more wrong.