Galveston

I knew it was going to be a good weekend when, about 1/3 of the way to Houston, a rainbow appeared.  I haven't seen one in a good while, and the appearance always seems as magical as it did when I was a child.  Lynn and I stopped at a great little chicken buffet in, I think, Columbus, and proceeded on.  We spent the night with her good friends Stacy and Shub, I woke up Saturday for my business meeting, she took her godson out for pancakes, and off we went to Galveston.

Elizabeth and Carl live in Houston and spend most of their summer weekends at their beachhouse. This weekend, in addition to Lynn and me, they'd invited 7-8 other people, all of whom were wonderful and fun and gave this introvert not one moment of discomfort.  After a delicious dinner of three kinds of fish that Carl had caught that morning, it was time for my walk.  I think it was about 8:30, and I'm glad Lynn came along, because I don't think I would have felt entirely comfortable going alone. The beach was pretty isolated, and dark, and we brought a flashlight.  I LOVE walking on the beach at night.  Thank you, thank you, thank you, for the full moon and the sound of waves crashing on the shore.  Nothing is more soothing to my soul, nothing calms my pettty anxieties and neuroses like the ocean -- even if it IS the gulf.  It was 45 minutes in one direction, 45 minutes in the other and the best part of it was getting invited to join a beer and pot party along the way.  It was too dark for the cute 20-something guy who persisted in asking about our beverage preferances to ascertain our true ages, and we got tremendous giggles out of imaging his horror once we got closer to the campfire. 

The next morning we got off and did the same thing.  So much for my rhapsodizing about the "restorative powers of walking barefoot on the beach."  The sand at Galveston is packed rock-hard, and really, I decided, it's not too different from walking five miles barefoot on concrete.  If anything it was harder on my knees, but I don't care.  It was worth it.

Elizabeth, who turns 50 in a few months, has the most gorgeous skin, and graciously granted me permission to show you what it looks like first thing in the morning, no make-up.  Not a wrinkle, line or brown spot in sight, and of course that's no accident.  She gets a quarterly facial, and every night and morning applies glycolic acid, and something else on top of that.  It's not cheap, but if I can get my skin in that condition, it's more than worth it.  She's given me her facialist's email, and I'm going to get a referral here in Austin; failing that, at the very least, I'm getting those products shipped here IMMEDIATELY.  I love starting new fall projects, and I can imagine few more rewarding than making a really signficant improvement in the condition of my skin.