the meaning of vacation

Late this morning, after a breakfast of cinnamon raisin french toast, berries, and applewood-smoked bacon, we headed for Little Tunk Pond.

Like a number of areas in Sullivan, Little Tunk has come under the protection of the Frenchman Bay Conservancy. This group has worked to protect some beautiful spots from the developers' knives in recent years. While this goes against the moneyed vogue, it ensures that others have access to some truly beautiful spots--and that those spots will remain truly beautiful.

Anyway...

The trip started out as a short jaunt with a plan to pick starfish at the old dock at Edgewater at low tide. Banana connected with a few kids--Miranda 13, Nick 9, and Luke 4--and I sat with their parents for a bit. Our dogs got along worse, but it was summer vacation and beer-thirty so we burned off the rest of the day. By the time we left with a bullfrog in tow, it was after five, and we were all tired. The bullfrog returned to a stream near the house. Despite Banana's pleas for it to remain, I insisted that there was no way the frog would make it back to Richmond.

I am a mean dad sometimes.