Spent a winter weekend at the Jersey Shore with Sophie; her first without the summer crowds. (She–a New York City girl–commented on the lack of people and the silence.) On our way to our bungalow, we stopped at the fish co-op in Point Pleasant Beach (the home port of a fishing fleet)and got some flounder that Sophie–all by herself–rinsed and swished around in the egg and rolled in bread crumbs for me to fry. Sunday morning we bundled up and went at the ocean beach & ran around, made sand castles, picked up shells to paint later, and played in the frothy surf. As was probably predictable, in time, a wave splashed up and over Sophie’s rubber boots. Later when we returned to Englewood, Linda asked her: How did you like the Shore in the winter? I liked it, Sophie replied. Wasn’t it really different because you couldn’t lie on the beach and go in the water? Well I did go in the water, Sophie told her. My feet were wet and my boots
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