Nova Scotia, Boston, Prince Edward Island, Cape Cod, Myrtle Beach... regardless of geography the routine would be the same: my Dad would find us a spot to park, walk across the sand, roll his jeans up to his knees as the ebb and flow of the Atlantic Ocean salted the roots of his English heart. “Taste it,” he’d always tell us, “taste the water... isn’t it salty?” And we would, and he’d smile and so did we.
And so here the summer is over – as luck would have it, I found myself between jobs for the duration so I took my own kids to the sea... okay, okay; we only live ten minutes from the thing, but for the first time in my children’s lives I was not working full time during their summer break. We didn’t go far, just day trips here and there, but I hope when they are older that they will remember ‘The Summer That Mam Wasn’t Working’ as one of the most fun they had.
Here is a song from my childhood – one of my Dad’s favourites... and a fitting soundtrack.