lovely to see you happy ...... i do miss family holidays ...... your still in touch with your best friend all these years thats awesome good answers thank you
Ah, the beach. I have fond memories of my family’s holidays along the coasts of New Hampshire and Maine in the late fifties and early sixties. Each July we’d pack up our ’55 Chevy, clothes on hangers suspended from a ceiling rod between my sister and me in the back seat, and drive southeast from our home in Toronto to visit our American cousins. Hampton beach, whose fine white sands sloped gradually into the sea, sits on part of the 16 miles of New Hampshire’s Atlantic coastline. We spent our afternoons bobbing in the buoyant waves like corks, building sandcastles, and watching the ebb and flow of hesitant waders and strutting paraders, before retreating under our cousins’ cabana, a canvas dome like an igloo open on one side, for food and slatherings of Coppertone at the hands of my mother, who I never once remember wetting so much as a toe in the water. In the evening, when the breeze turned cool, the kite flyers came out with their hand-cranked drums of fishing line and box kites, some so high you could barely see them.
I grew up on the shores of Lake Michigan just north of Chicago. However, we used to camp by one lake or another in three different states, fishing and swimming. Great times and great memories.
