Back from a much-needed week vacation on the Cape with my family. There was much eating and drinking on the beach. Delightfully generic and special and wholly relaxing.
I'm flying a kite in that picture, in case you can't tell. My kite is awesome. He's a shooting star with a tail and he soars skyward. His name is Lady Stardust.
We went to the whaling museum in Nantucket. I freaked them out with my Moby Dick geekiness.
Dad caught a big fish that we cleaned and cooked for dinner.
We all said thank you to Mr. Fish's spirit, but somehow, even though I know it's so much better to do it this way than to buy something someone else killed who knows how, it still made it harder to eat. Every bite was more weighty when you envisioned him alive and flopping around. I appreciated the flavor and the nourishment more. I think that's how it should be.