Summer vacation 2011 allowed me to witness the joy on my niece’s face as she flew her first kite. Our trip to the Duck beach in 2012 allowed me to knock off two additional tasks from my list – #89 Build a Sandcastle and #55 Go Kayaking.
If you ever want to feel really good about yourself, build a sandcastle with toddlers. Seriously. I have never felt so confident in my ability to do anything and everything than when I was digging in the sand with Claire and Ian, who constantly made exclamations along the lines of “Yeah!! That looks awesome, Uncle Brett” and “Uncle Brett, you’re the BEST sandcastle builder!” and “THIS IS THE COOLEST SANDCASTLE EVER!!!!!” followed by high-pitched shrieking and uncontrolled bouncing.
At first, the excitement is a bit suspect –
alright, alright, kid, it ain’t that great. And then –
I guess that turret and wall don’t look too bad. Until finally, you find yourself infected with the same enthusiasm –
Yes Claire, we TOTALLY can dig this hole all the way to the other side of the world. ALL THE WAY!!!!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Whatever newly found confidence I gained from constructing my palace of sand, however, was quickly washed away by our kayaking
adventure disaster.
Now, I normally love kayaking. If it weren’t for the lack of storage space in our apartment, I would totally buy one. But if I did, I know I would have to get rid of our furniture and use the kayak as seating to watch TV a la
Joey and Chandler’s canoe.
This particular trip was bereft of my typical enjoyment. We should have known that something was amiss when, on a beautiful July afternoon, there was not a single other person patronizing our kayak rental facility.
Everything started off just fine; Erin, Michael, Jake, and I paddled northward in our single-person kayaks on the Sound as the waves gently rocked our vessels. Gradually though, I noticed that I wasn’t keeping up with everyone else. I had to work harder to move my kayak. Everything seemed unbalanced. My kayak rocked with greater fervor. I capsized.
Being the positive, life-affirming person I am, I chuckled at myself and my foolishness, righted my kayak, and attempted to re-board. I managed to stay in for about 30 seconds before falling back in the water. I laughed nervously, and jumped back in, only to roll around and off the other side. This series of events repeated itself for the next few minutes. Jake and Michael got father and farther away. My sister watched with dread. My kayak began to sink.
You see, in most kayaks there’s a plug that fills a hole at the rear or front of the watercraft. It prevents water from getting into the boat, which is, ya know, only slightly important. This upstanding establishment decided that, in order to cut costs (and bring the savings on to YOOOOUUuuuu
uuuu), it would replace lost plugs with corks from the bottles of wine its employees were likely drinking while on duty. As a result, my kayak had lost its plug, was taking on water, and was sinking fast. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper.
Before you start worrying for my life, I’ll let you in on one detail that I previously omitted: the water surrounding us was a mere two feet deep. Fortunately, we opted to navigate the shoreline instead of paddling into the middle of Currituck Sound. If we had taken the latter route, the kayak would have been lost and this post would not be as jovial as it has been.
After trespassing on a family’s boat launch to empty gallons of water from my kayak, we made our way back to the rental dock, where the workers seemed utterly unconcerned. I was too embarrassed to ask for a refund, and have yet to fulfill my promise to write a biting yelp review.
Oh, and Jake and Michael were almost attacked by birds of prey after getting too close to a nest. Serves them right for nearly abandoning me in my time of stress.
In the future, I’ll likely engage in more sandcastling, and less kayaking.
On Friday afternoon, Riley and I took advantage of the unseasonably warm weather we've been experiencing with a trip to Ridley Creek State Park for some trail running. My friend, Andrew, convinced me to sign up for a Tough Mudder (which I will be counting as a "road race" for the purposes of #19), so I've been hitting the trails in my new vibram treksports to help prepare for the arduous hills I'll be running in May.
Shred the cheddar cheese using the fun wheel attachment on your food processor. Or be lame, and shred it by hand. Or be lamer, and buy it pre-shredded. Add the flour, cold butter, salt, paprika, and cayenne pepper to the food processor. Pulse until thoroughly mixed and crumbly.
Slowly add cold water 1-2 tablespoons at a time until the mixture has the consistency of a very thick dough. Gather into a ball, cover in plastic wrap, and put it in the fridge for about 20-30 minutes.
Bake for roughly 25 minutes, being sure to check on the crackers every so often towards the end as they can go from perfectly cooked to burnt very easily. I had to remove some of the smaller ones from the sheet before others.
