MAINE - THE FINAL PIECE OF THE BEACH ADVENTURE

Driving to Maine, I have that horrible panic when I attempt to zip (at 10 mph) through the EZ Pass lane of the toll.  The yellow light flashes, and an electonic sign berates me for allowing my balance to fall too low. Pissah.  Now, the only way to get home will be driving the back roads either along the beach or through Dover because no one is home at my house to tell me what my password is for the EZ Pass account.

Not only is my transponder failing me, but my two GPS devices (which usually duel with one another about which direction is best) decide to agree, and by "agree" I mean they send me in the WRONG direction.  I do not realize this until I pass Hannafords.

"Take a right?  Really?  YOU BASTARDS.  I knew I was supposed to go left, but nooooo.  I listen to  Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass."  Yup, I talk to my electronics.  This is what I get for trying to cut across town instead of through it to get to my sister's house. 

I've been at the beach all morning, walking the coast and having my eyeballs accosted by some guy's sandy ass crack.  Then, I battled a red Corvette driven by a moron who couldn't drive a stick to save his life.  I also got stuck behind a slow ambulance (thank god no one was dying inside ... of whom I am aware) and a trash truck making stops every two feet.  Why not add a busted EZ Pass and asshole GPS voices to the mix!

Once I get to my sister's house, my nephew is there but my sister is not.  She is running late, probably trying to text me, but my phone is being a dink again.  I text my daughter to please stop by the house later, find my password for the EZ Pass, and text it back to me so I can get home.  Right, I text ... but ... my phone is being a dink again, so the text does not go through.  I email her instead.

Suddenly, I get the brilliant idea to call the EZ Pass people.  The automated voice tells me to have my password and PIN handy.  Hahahahahahahaha.  That would be a NO.  I explain the situation, and the operator looks up my account after making me promise to send my first born's first born's first born to the state of Massachusetts as payment.  Finally, after passing a security clearance more complicated than an atomic bomb code, the operator reviews my credit cards on file and assures me that the money will go in automatically the following day.

My sister arrives bearing yummy lunch foods from her work.  My nephew joins us, and the three of us inhale the stuff, then my sister and I play a few heated rounds of Bananagrams and a few even more heated rounds of Cribbage.  My sister suggests a workout, but in this heat and with her inviting pool at 80+ degrees, I vote for swimming. 

We spend the next ninety minutes making a giant whirlpool then trying to walk against it.  When that doesn't work, we grab anything that floats and ride the current for a while.  I get bored and pull out a small rubber shark that squirts water at my sister's head.  She responds by putting a pool noodle up to the water exhaust and spraying a stream of water across the pool at me.  We don't get out until our fingers and toes are pruney, just like when we were kids.

I'd say that "we" make dinner, but, actually she does.  I kind of watch and cheer her on while she slices and dices a fresh cauliflower.  (Someone has to sip the wine and make sure it's perfect.) She has the barbecue going, the roaster is on, and she is whipping up a Caesar salad to die for, and dinner is a feast.  After dinner, we try making plans for an upcoming Sister Adventure, but every suggestion we pursue doesn't pan out, so we go back to our old ways and decide to use her house as a home base after an upcoming concert in which she is singing.  As long as the weather holds, we're golden.  If the weather doesn't hold, we always have rematches available for Bananagrams, Cribbage, and Rummy.

I drive home at the end of the long day, keeping my fingers crossed that I have enough toll money to get through until tomorrow.  Turns out I am $0.50 short.  It also turns out that the bank upgraded my credit card and cancelled the one on file without letting me know, so I have to make a deposit.  Instead of $20, I toss $40 into it, just in case.

I am totally wiped when I get home, but I still need to write the blog and take a shower.  By the time I fall into bed, completely relaxed, I have lived an entire vacation in one day: Beach walk, beach swim, scenic drive, travel troubles, lunch, games, swimming, dinner, vacation planning, and the long drive home. 

It's wonderful!  I sleep for nine hours, which is also wonderful.  Chalk it up -- Another Best Day Ever.