(11194,1,'2012-09-25 21:54:42','2012-09-26 04:54:42','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"428\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather aka Papa was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPictured top center is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPictured top right is Toddler Michelle showing her early talent for athleticism and sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping 2 minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPictured above is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185  \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar talents and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-39','','','2012-09-25 21:54:42','2012-09-26 04:54:42','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-39/',0,'revision','',0),(11195,1,'2012-09-25 21:58:40','2012-09-26 04:58:40','','Scanned Image 122690006','','inherit','open','open','','scanned-image-122690006','','','2012-09-25 21:58:40','2012-09-26 04:58:40','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11196,1,'2012-09-25 22:04:08','2012-09-26 05:04:08','','Scanned Image 122690007','','inherit','open','open','','scanned-image-122690007','','','2012-09-25 22:04:08','2012-09-26 05:04:08','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11197,1,'2012-09-25 21:55:39','2012-09-26 04:55:39','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather aka Papa was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPictured top center is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPictured top right is Toddler Michelle showing her early talent for athleticism and sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping 2 minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPictured above is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185  \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar talents and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-40','','','2012-09-25 21:55:39','2012-09-26 04:55:39','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-40/',0,'revision','',0),(11198,1,'2012-09-25 22:07:28','2012-09-26 05:07:28','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather aka Papa was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early talent for athleticism and sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping 2 minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185  \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar talents and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-41','','','2012-09-25 22:07:28','2012-09-26 05:07:28','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-41/',0,'revision','',0),(11199,1,'2012-09-25 22:07:36','2012-09-26 05:07:36','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather aka Papa was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early talent for athleticism and sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping 2 minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185  \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar talents and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-42','','','2012-09-25 22:07:36','2012-09-26 05:07:36','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-42/',0,'revision','',0),(11200,1,'2012-09-25 22:09:51','2012-09-26 05:09:51','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather aka Papa was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping 2 minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185  \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar talents and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-43','','','2012-09-25 22:09:51','2012-09-26 05:09:51','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-43/',0,'revision','',0),(11202,1,'2012-09-25 22:14:03','2012-09-26 05:14:03','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-45','','','2012-09-25 22:14:03','2012-09-26 05:14:03','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-45/',0,'revision','',0),(11201,1,'2012-09-25 22:11:05','2012-09-26 05:11:05','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping 2 minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185  \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar talents and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-44','','','2012-09-25 22:11:05','2012-09-26 05:11:05','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-44/',0,'revision','',0),(11204,1,'2012-09-25 22:16:15','2012-09-26 05:16:15','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-47','','','2012-09-25 22:16:15','2012-09-26 05:16:15','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-47/',0,'revision','',0),(11203,1,'2012-09-25 22:15:10','2012-09-26 05:15:10','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-46','','','2012-09-25 22:15:10','2012-09-26 05:15:10','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-46/',0,'revision','',0),(11205,1,'2012-09-25 22:17:28','2012-09-26 05:17:28','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake one in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell them at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-48','','','2012-09-25 22:17:28','2012-09-26 05:17:28','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-48/',0,'revision','',0),(11206,1,'2012-09-25 22:19:26','2012-09-26 05:19:26','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s.  Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement.  Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard as in the photo above because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-49','','','2012-09-25 22:19:26','2012-09-26 05:19:26','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-49/',0,'revision','',0),(11207,1,'2012-09-25 22:22:17','2012-09-26 05:22:17','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-50','','','2012-09-25 22:22:17','2012-09-26 05:22:17','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-50/',0,'revision','',0),(11208,1,'2012-09-25 22:22:33','2012-09-26 05:22:33','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.  And lastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-51','','','2012-09-25 22:22:33','2012-09-26 05:22:33','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-51/',0,'revision','',0),(11209,1,'2012-09-25 22:25:17','2012-09-26 05:25:17','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-52','','','2012-09-25 22:25:17','2012-09-26 05:25:17','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-52/',0,'revision','',0),(11210,1,'2012-09-25 22:25:19','2012-09-26 05:25:19','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-53','','','2012-09-25 22:25:19','2012-09-26 05:25:19','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-53/',0,'revision','',0),(11211,1,'2012-09-25 22:28:18','2012-09-26 05:28:18','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo many of my favorite things of today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd I ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-54','','','2012-09-25 22:28:18','2012-09-26 05:28:18','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-54/',0,'revision','',0),(11212,1,'2012-09-25 22:29:18','2012-09-26 05:29:18','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo many of my favorite things of today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-55','','','2012-09-25 22:29:18','2012-09-26 05:29:18','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-55/',0,'revision','',0),(11213,1,'2012-10-21 19:06:03','2012-10-22 02:06:03','&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(That I am aware of.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGiddyup.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI hated Texas.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo many of my favorite things of today trace back to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a panoramic view of the bay and Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI would often walk that beach by myself before dinner so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI know what I saw.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* moment of silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\n\n&nbsp;\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n*********\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-autosave','','','2012-10-21 19:06:03','2012-10-22 02:06:03','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-autosave/',0,'revision','',0),(11214,1,'2012-09-25 22:32:26','2012-09-26 05:32:26','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things of today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a view of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-56','','','2012-09-25 22:32:26','2012-09-26 05:32:26','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-56/',0,'revision','',0),(11215,1,'2012-09-25 22:39:24','2012-09-26 05:39:24','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things of today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a panoramic view of the bay and Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach before dinner by myself so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-57','','','2012-09-25 22:39:24','2012-09-26 05:39:24','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-57/',0,'revision','',0),(11216,1,'2012-09-25 22:40:38','2012-09-26 05:40:38','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things of today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a panoramic view of the bay and Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach by myself before dinner so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-58','','','2012-09-25 22:40:38','2012-09-26 05:40:38','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-58/',0,'revision','',0),(11217,1,'2012-09-25 22:42:47','2012-09-26 05:42:47','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things of today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a panoramic view of the bay and Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach by myself before dinner so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-59','','','2012-09-25 22:42:47','2012-09-26 05:42:47','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-59/',0,'revision','',0),(11218,1,'2012-09-25 22:43:22','2012-09-26 05:43:22','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things of today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a panoramic view of the bay and Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach by myself before dinner so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-60','','','2012-09-25 22:43:22','2012-09-26 05:43:22','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/25/11138-revision-60/',0,'revision','',0),(11651,1,'2012-11-26 19:40:12','2012-11-27 02:40:12','&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11191\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11191\"><img class=\"wp-image-11191 alignleft\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690005\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690005-1024x1018.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"344\" height=\"342\" /></a> song says, \"I left my heart in San Francisco\".  For me, I would change the lyrics to \"I left my heart in Southampton\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy formative years were spent on Long Island, New York.  In the town of Mineola, to be exact.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhich you\'ve probably never heard of unless you\'re from Long Island.  Think \"small town filled with Portuguese people\".  Kind of like the town in Mystic Pizza.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nExcept Mystic is in Connecticut.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd Julia Roberts is not Portuguese.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nPortuguese families ARE very tight (just like Julia Roberts\' fictional family in Mystic Pizza), and my grandparents lived minutes away from us in Mineola. I saw them practically every day until the age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy grandfather <a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2010/10/11/to-be-continued/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>aka Papa</strong></a> was a Portuguese immigrant who came to this country with nothing but his pride and an ironclast work ethic.  He founded a construction company and slowly secured his small portion of the American Dream.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHe secured a plot of land in Southampton, New York overlooking Little Peconic Bay and built two houses with his own two hands.  Literally.  He loved to tell the story of how it cost him $14,000 to build the house that was our family\'s beloved beach house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAll of my birth through 8 year-old summers were spent out at The Beach House.  (Technically, I was also there when I was incubating in my mother\'s womb.)  So many attributes of The Michelle of Today can be traced back to those magical summers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor instance, the guitar pictured top left next to Baby Michelle is the very same guitar that I picked up at age 8.  I taught myself how to play it with the John Denver Songbook.  In fact, I NEVER STOPPED playing it that summer and nearly set my mother over the edge.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11195\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11195\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11195\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690006\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690006-643x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"270\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Kindergarten Michelle indulging in her newfound love of boats with her dad.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI begged either my father and/or Papa to take me on boat rides daily.  At first there was the dingie.  Then there was the cute little sailboat that my father christened \"Mishy Lou\".  Later there was Papa\'s motorboat.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLastly, Uncle Johnny\'s Hobie Cat.  Which he nearly capsized one suddenly stormy afternoon with my sister and I on board.  My mother required Valium by the time we returned to the house.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11196\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11196\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11196\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690007\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690007-1007x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"423\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nHere is Toddler Michelle showing her early athletic prowess and affinity for sport.  Not!  I assure you that the mini soccer match with Nana lasted a whopping two minutes before I ran screaming for my dollies.  Or to my Papa for a boat ride.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11181\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11181\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11181\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690001\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690001-1024x815.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"342\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd here is 2nd grade Michelle swimming in The Pond with Pepino the Chihuahua.  (Google translate \"pepino\" from Portuguese to English and report back to me your bewilderment in the comments section.  That way I\'ll know you\'re paying attention and humoring me by reading this entire blog post.  :-D )\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  I was the definition of \"water baby\".  Rumor has it that I swam solo across the inlet at the ripe old age of 6.  It\'s a wonder my mother didn\'t develop a Valium addiction.  She\'s one of those Extreme Nervous Nelly types.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, my mother has never ingested a single Valium.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(That I am aware of.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(I took a Valium once pre-Lasik -- doctor\'s orders -- and it was pretty groovy.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s equally a wonder that with my natural talents at such a wee age, I didn\'t become the next Diana Nyad or Taylor Swift.  Not sure what The Parental Unit was thinking.  Or not thinking.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_11185\" align=\"alignnone\" width=\"430\"]<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11185\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11185\"><img class=\" wp-image-11185   \" title=\"Scanned Image 122690002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690002-1024x824.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"430\" height=\"346\" /></a> 2nd grade Michelle transfixed by her neighbor\'s guitar playing and dreaming that one day she\'ll be the next Taylor Swift. Yes, I realize that Taylor Swift was not even a twinkle at this point, but I like to experiment with anachronism from time to time. Makes me feel very Shakespearean.[/caption]\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI think you get the picture.  (Pun intended.)  Southampton is my happy place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYou know when \"experts\" advise you to think of a serene and peaceful scene when under stress?  To not only picture yourself there but <em>feel</em> yourself there?  And then all of the stress will immediately exit your body on your next exhale?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThat happy place for me is <em>always</em> The Beach House in Southampton.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat happened to The Beach House, you\'re wondering?  Don\'t worry.  We\'ll get there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFirst we need to rewind back to Michelle at the tender age of 8.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy father -- <a href=\"http://snowdropfoundation.org/?page_id=102\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>who is the kindest and most selfless guy on the planet</strong> </a>-- (<strong>I\'m not kidding, <a href=\"http://www.chevronhoustonmarathon.com/Donate/PersonalPage.cfm?MID=9047&amp;CRID=35&amp;CID=397\" target=\"_blank\">you can read even more about his gigantic heart here</a></strong>) -- career changed from mechanical engineer to petroleum engineer during the oil boom.  You know what that meant, right?  The family moved to where the oil overflowedeth.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGiddyup.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nDad assured me that I would love Texas.  After all, our new house was located on Lancelot Drive, and there was no one in the world I loved more at that time than <a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsSnNk0CSh0\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Lancelot</strong>.</a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(35 years later I still have a thing for <strong><a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39PuFOTjtk8\" target=\"_blank\">dark-haired men with accents.</a>  </strong>It\'s truly a miracle that I haven\'t run off with one  Yet.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI hated Texas.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n(For the record, I love my father dearly.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe saving grace was that we returned to The Beach House each summer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSo many of my favorite things of today trace back to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ mimosas.  Not the cocktail, but the trees.  Because The Most Beautiful Tree in the History of My Life shaded the front yard of The Beach House.  My sister and I would collect the blossoms and crown Nana \"Mimosa Queen\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11147\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11147\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11147\" title=\"Scanned Image 122630002\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122630002-1024x350.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"819\" height=\"280\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis was the same summer that I made the unfortunate discovery of an evil potion called Sun In.  Can you detect the orange tint in my hair captured in a Kodak memory for all eternity?  Moving right along again . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ blue hydrangeas.  Because they lined the front patio of The Beach House.  On that patio we ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, put on theatrical productions, staged pretend weddings (dressed in Nana\'s wedding gown), and watched the blazing sun set over the Little Peconic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11182\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11182\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11182\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690003\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690003-1024x697.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"614\" height=\"418\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nToday, I have a fake blue hydrangea in my kitchen.  That\'s the best that I can do in Arizona.  Except for when they sell real blue hydrangeas at Trader Joe\'s and people stare at me because I start jumping up and down in the aisle.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ♥ sand dunes.  Because of the giant sand dune named Holmes Hill on Little Peconic Bay.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd because my all-time-fav photo of my father was taken on Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11187\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11187\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11187\" title=\"Scanned Image 122690004\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Scanned-Image-122690004-686x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"288\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFrom The Beach House, you would walk three houses down the street and access a practically private beach with a panoramic view of the bay and Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI would often walk that beach by myself before dinner so that I could be alone with my thoughts and dream about....oh, I don\'t know...Lancelot probably.  (The knight, not the street.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOne night at dusk, I looked into the water and saw a slithery glowing object.  It stopped me in my sand tracks.  An electric eel!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI ran back to the house and breathlessly shared my discovery with my family.  No one believed me.  To this day, no one believes me.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI know what I saw.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMoving right along (for the last time, I promise) . . . .\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;\"><strong>The story of The Beach House has somewhat of a sad ending, my friends.  I\'m not going to drag it out because I may get too emotional.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLike all other good New Yorkers, Nana and Papa decided to retire in Florida.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI never understood this.  I will never understand this.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIf ANYONE can explain to me why New Yorkers are so enamored of Florida, please educate me in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor the record, I adore and revere my Portuguese grandparents beyond belief.  But let me assure you, dear readers, that visiting a house on a gator-infested canal in Florida after growing up in The Beach House is highly anticlimactic.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nLuckily, my uncle swooped in and saved the day by buying The Beach House.  He kept it for a good ten years or so.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-size: medium; color: #ff0000;\"><strong>Until the red tide swept in and you couldn\'t swim in The Pond without contracting a nasty rash.</strong></span>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAs if rashes aren\'t obnoxious enough, the secret of The Hamptons boomed across Manhattan in the 80s. Suddenly, there was traffic that rivaled LA and swarms of yuppy snobs with a sense of entitlement. Our quiet and idyllic Beach House existed only in our storybook memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIn order to save his sanity (and shave an hour off his commute), Uncle Johnny sold The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* moment of silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nReal estate whiz that he is, UJ unearthed a treasure in a more down-to-earth and old-Southampton-of-yore-like location in Hampton Bays.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThese days, I try to return to my roots every other summer.  My uncle\'s pad is pretty killer.  I ♥ it, too.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nBut The Beach House will always hold the most special place in my heart.  A summer visit would not be complete without a pilgrimage to The Beach House.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor Playdate #34, Nana, Auntie I, Aunt Bonnie and I journeyed there.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe Beach House looks much different today than it did all those years ago.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11151\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210074-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"271\" /><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11156\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; cursor: default; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Shampton2\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Shampton2-1005x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"259\" height=\"265\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd even though Nana couldn\'t wait for me in the front yard (as in the photo above right) because of pesky trespassing laws, she was able to watch me three doors down at the practically private beach.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11153\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11153\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11153\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210077-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"323\" height=\"430\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhile I took a photo of Holmes Hill.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11150\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11150\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11150\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210086-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd wondered what happened to the mountainous formation of rocks that I used to climb onto.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11152\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11152\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11152\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210076-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"301\" height=\"401\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd collected angel\'s toenails sea shells (as Nana has always called them).\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11154\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11154\"><img class=\"alignnone  wp-image-11154\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P8210079-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"401\" height=\"301\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd secretly wished that I can someday return to The Beach House, swoop in with a windfall, and reclaim it for future memories.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n*********\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhere does your heart reside?  Please share in the comments section below.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #34:  The Beach House is Where the Heart Is','','inherit','open','open','','11138-revision-62','','','2012-11-26 19:40:12','2012-11-27 02:40:12','',11138,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/11/26/11138-revision-62/',0,'revision','',0),(11220,1,'2012-09-27 20:07:58','2012-09-28 03:07:58','','Auto Draft','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision','','','2012-09-27 20:07:58','2012-09-28 03:07:58','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision/',0,'revision','',0),(11221,1,'2012-09-27 20:19:30','2012-09-28 03:19:30','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-764','','','2012-09-27 20:19:30','2012-09-28 03:19:30','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11222,1,'2012-09-27 20:40:33','2012-09-28 03:40:33','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-765','','','2012-09-27 20:40:33','2012-09-28 03:40:33','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11223,1,'2012-09-27 20:42:46','2012-09-28 03:42:46','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-766','','','2012-09-27 20:42:46','2012-09-28 03:42:46','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11503,1,'2012-10-22 20:55:15','2012-10-23 03:55:15','','IMG00305-20121014-1600','','inherit','open','open','','img00305-20121014-1600','','','2012-10-22 20:55:15','2012-10-23 03:55:15','',11501,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG00305-20121014-1600.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11231,1,'2012-09-27 21:26:13','2012-09-28 04:26:13','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote that song.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so they probably were smoking the wacky tabacky, but you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-3','','','2012-09-27 21:26:13','2012-09-28 04:26:13','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-3/',0,'revision','',0),(11228,1,'2012-09-27 20:56:02','2012-09-28 03:56:02','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?  Now you know what The Eagles were talking about!\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11225\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11225\"><img class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11225\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030020.jpg\" alt=\"\" /></a>','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-2','','','2012-09-27 20:56:02','2012-09-28 03:56:02','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-2/',0,'revision','',0),(11229,1,'2012-09-27 21:09:50','2012-09-28 04:09:50','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-769','','','2012-09-27 21:09:50','2012-09-28 04:09:50','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11230,1,'2012-09-27 21:17:31','2012-09-28 04:17:31','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-770','','','2012-09-27 21:17:31','2012-09-28 04:17:31','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11232,1,'2012-09-27 21:27:13','2012-09-28 04:27:13','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote that song.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so they were high when they wrote it, but you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-4','','','2012-09-27 21:27:13','2012-09-28 04:27:13','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-4/',0,'revision','',0),(11233,1,'2012-09-27 21:30:44','2012-09-28 04:30:44','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-767','','','2012-09-27 21:30:44','2012-09-28 04:30:44','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11235,1,'2012-09-27 21:52:15','2012-09-28 04:52:15','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote that song.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\n\n&nbsp;\n\npool\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"Pretty often.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"Huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"You know . . . . au natural?  Bathing suit optional?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"No.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:   \"Oh.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* awkward silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"I don\'t think so.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nRiiiiigggghhhhht.  And\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-5','','','2012-09-27 21:52:15','2012-09-28 04:52:15','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-5/',0,'revision','',0),(11236,1,'2012-09-27 21:57:15','2012-09-28 04:57:15','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote that song.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\n\n&nbsp;\n\npool\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"Pretty often.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"Huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"You know . . . . au natural?  Bathing suit optional?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"No.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:   \"Oh.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* awkward silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"I don\'t think so.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that I\'ll sell you after this tour is over.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-6','','','2012-09-27 21:57:15','2012-09-28 04:57:15','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-6/',0,'revision','',0),(11237,1,'2012-09-27 22:04:15','2012-09-28 05:04:15','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\n\n&nbsp;\n\npool\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"No.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:   \"Oh.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* awkward silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMe:  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTour Guide:  \"I don\'t think so.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that I\'ll sell you after this tour is over.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-7','','','2012-09-27 22:04:15','2012-09-28 05:04:15','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-7/',0,'revision','',0),(11238,1,'2012-09-27 22:05:15','2012-09-28 05:05:15','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\n\n&nbsp;\n\npool\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* awkward silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that I\'ll sell you after this tour is over.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nwrap it up with public bells (better quality?) video\n\n&nbsp;\n\nand\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-8','','','2012-09-27 22:05:15','2012-09-28 05:05:15','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-8/',0,'revision','',0),(11239,1,'2012-09-27 22:06:31','2012-09-28 05:06:31','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-768','','','2012-09-27 22:06:31','2012-09-28 05:06:31','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11240,1,'2012-09-27 22:07:15','2012-09-28 05:07:15','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* awkward silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that I\'ll sell you after this tour is over.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nwrap it up with public bells (better quality?) video\n\n&nbsp;\n\nand\n\n&nbsp;\n\ni waited 17 years and i didn\'t buy a damn bell.  cosanti, here i come!  and i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am about to build a secret garden patio!\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-9','','','2012-09-27 22:07:15','2012-09-28 05:07:15','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-9/',0,'revision','',0),(11241,1,'2012-09-27 22:07:26','2012-09-28 05:07:26','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGroovy, huh?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* awkward silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that I\'ll sell you after this tour is over.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nwrap it up with public bells (better quality?) video\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nand\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\ni waited 17 years and i didn\'t buy a damn bell.  cosanti, here i come!  and i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am about to build a secret garden patio!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-10','','','2012-09-27 22:07:26','2012-09-28 05:07:26','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-10/',0,'revision','',0),(11242,1,'2012-09-27 22:07:26','2012-09-28 05:07:26','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGroovy, huh?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* awkward silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that I\'ll sell you after this tour is over.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nwrap it up with public bells (better quality?) video\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nand\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\ni waited 17 years and i didn\'t buy a damn bell.  cosanti, here i come!  and i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am about to build a secret garden patio!\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-11','','','2012-09-27 22:07:26','2012-09-28 05:07:26','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/27/11219-revision-11/',0,'revision','',0),(11243,1,'2012-09-28 12:26:26','2012-09-28 19:26:26','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-771','','','2012-09-28 12:26:26','2012-09-28 19:26:26','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030019.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11244,1,'2012-09-28 12:31:37','2012-09-28 19:31:37','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-772','','','2012-09-28 12:31:37','2012-09-28 19:31:37','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030013.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11245,1,'2012-09-28 12:35:00','2012-09-28 19:35:00','','OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA','','inherit','open','open','','olympus-digital-camera-773','','','2012-09-28 12:35:00','2012-09-28 19:35:00','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030015.jpg',0,'attachment','image/jpeg',0),(11246,1,'2012-09-28 12:38:41','2012-09-28 19:38:41','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11243\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11243\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11243\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030019-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* awkward silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that the guys from The Eagles will sell you after this tour is over.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, ok!  Enough of my irreverence!  Arcosanti is a unique and special place.  I highly recommend a visit.  Plan to come at lunch for a delish and nutrish smorgasbord of homemade delights.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOh, yes.  And then there\'s the famous wind bells.  They are made by artisans at Arcosanti, and you can locate them all over the property.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11244\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11244\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11244\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030013-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11245\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11245\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11245\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030015-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTake a look and listen for yourselves.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOddball that I am, I waited 17 years to descend on Arcosanti and didn\'t buy a bell.  Can you believe this???\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Cosanti</strong>, here i come!  And i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am about to build a secret garden patio and I am looking!\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-12','','','2012-09-28 12:38:41','2012-09-28 19:38:41','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/28/11219-revision-12/',0,'revision','',0),(11247,1,'2012-09-28 12:41:41','2012-09-28 19:41:41','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11243\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11243\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11243\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030019-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* awkward silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that the guys from The Eagles will sell you after this tour is over.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, ok!  Enough of my irreverence!  Arcosanti is a unique and special place.  I highly recommend a visit.  Plan to come at lunch for a delish and nutrish smorgasbord of homemade delights.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOh, yes.  And then there\'s the famous wind bells.  They are made by artisans at Arcosanti, and you can locate them all over the property.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11244\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11244\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11244\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030013-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11245\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11245\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11245\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030015-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTake a look and listen for yourselves.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<iframe src=\"http://www.youtube.com/embed/zu_YqU1aKZI\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\"></iframe>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOddball that I am, I waited 17 years to descend on Arcosanti and didn\'t buy a bell.  Can you believe this???\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.cosanti.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Cosanti</strong>,</a> here i come!  And i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am about to build a secret garden patio, and I will need to add finishing touches in approximately 17 days.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-13','','','2012-09-28 12:41:41','2012-09-28 19:41:41','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/28/11219-revision-13/',0,'revision','',0),(11249,1,'2012-09-28 12:42:41','2012-09-28 19:42:41','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11243\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11243\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11243\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030019-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* awkward silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that the guys from The Eagles will sell you after this tour is over.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, ok!  Enough of my irreverence!  Arcosanti is a unique and special place.  I highly recommend a visit.  Plan to come at lunch for a delish and nutrish smorgasbord of homemade delights.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOh, yes.  And then there\'s the famous wind bells.  They are made by artisans at Arcosanti, and you can locate them all over the property.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11244\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11244\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11244\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030013-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11245\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11245\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11245\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030015-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTake a look and listen for yourselves.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<iframe src=\"http://www.youtube.com/embed/zu_YqU1aKZI\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\"></iframe>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOddball that I am, I waited 17 years to descend on Arcosanti and didn\'t buy a bell.  Can you believe this???\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.cosanti.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Cosanti</strong>,</a> here i come!  And i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am building a secret garden patio, and I will need to add finishing touches in approximately 17 days.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-15','','','2012-09-28 12:42:41','2012-09-28 19:42:41','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/28/11219-revision-15/',0,'revision','',0),(11248,1,'2012-09-28 12:42:18','2012-09-28 19:42:18','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\"><em>Arcology</em></a>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGroovy, huh?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11243\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11243\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11243\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030019-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* awkward silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that the guys from The Eagles will sell you after this tour is over.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOk, ok!  Enough of my irreverence!  Arcosanti is a unique and special place.  I highly recommend a visit.  Plan to come at lunch for a delish and nutrish smorgasbord of homemade delights.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOh, yes.  And then there\'s the famous wind bells.  They are made by artisans at Arcosanti, and you can locate them all over the property.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11244\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11244\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11244\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030013-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11245\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11245\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11245\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030015-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTake a look and listen for yourselves.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<iframe src=\"http://www.youtube.com/embed/zu_YqU1aKZI\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\"></iframe>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOddball that I am, I waited 17 years to descend on Arcosanti and didn\'t buy a bell.  Can you believe this???\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.cosanti.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Cosanti</strong>,</a> here i come!  And i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am building a secret garden patio, and I will need to add finishing touches in approximately 17 days.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-14','','','2012-09-28 12:42:18','2012-09-28 19:42:18','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/28/11219-revision-14/',0,'revision','',0),(11252,1,'2012-09-28 12:48:15','2012-09-28 19:48:15','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\">Arcology</a> </em></strong>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGroovy, huh?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11243\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11243\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11243\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030019-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n* awkward silence *\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that the guys from The Eagles will sell you after this tour is over.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, ok!  Enough of my irreverence!  Arcosanti is a unique and special place.  I highly recommend a visit.  Plan to come at lunch for a delish and nutrish smorgasbord of homemade delights.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOh, yes.  And then there\'s the famous wind bells.  They are made by artisans at Arcosanti, and you can locate them all over the property.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11244\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11244\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11244\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030013-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11245\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11245\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11245\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030015-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTake a look and listen for yourselves.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<iframe src=\"http://www.youtube.com/embed/zu_YqU1aKZI\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\"></iframe>\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOddball that I am, I waited 17 years to descend on Arcosanti and didn\'t buy a bell.  Can you believe this???\n\n&nbsp;\n\n<a href=\"http://www.cosanti.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Cosanti</strong>,</a> here i come!  And i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am building a secret garden patio, and I will need to add finishing touches in approximately 17 days.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-18','','','2012-09-28 12:48:15','2012-09-28 19:48:15','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/28/11219-revision-18/',0,'revision','',0),(11250,1,'2012-09-28 12:44:48','2012-09-28 19:44:48','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\">Arcology</a> </em></strong>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGroovy, huh?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11243\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11243\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11243\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030019-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* awkward silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that the guys from The Eagles will sell you after this tour is over.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOk, ok!  Enough of my irreverence!  Arcosanti is a unique and special place.  I highly recommend a visit.  Plan to come at lunch for a delish and nutrish smorgasbord of homemade delights.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOh, yes.  And then there\'s the famous wind bells.  They are made by artisans at Arcosanti, and you can locate them all over the property.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11244\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11244\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11244\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030013-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11245\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11245\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11245\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030015-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTake a look and listen for yourselves.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<iframe src=\"http://www.youtube.com/embed/zu_YqU1aKZI\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\"></iframe>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOddball that I am, I waited 17 years to descend on Arcosanti and didn\'t buy a bell.  Can you believe this???\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.cosanti.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Cosanti</strong>,</a> here i come!  And i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am building a secret garden patio, and I will need to add finishing touches in approximately 17 days.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-16','','','2012-09-28 12:44:48','2012-09-28 19:44:48','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/28/11219-revision-16/',0,'revision','',0),(11251,1,'2012-09-28 12:44:52','2012-09-28 19:44:52','<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11221\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11221\"><img class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-11221\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030001-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a> Or have you ever had a place on your fairly local \"To Visit\" list for . . . . oh . . . . 17 years and then finally got around to visiting?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI\'m embarrassed to say that I heard about Arcosanti in 1995 when I moved to Arizona.  I think it was in the \"Welcome to Arizona\" brochure or something similar.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI was intrigued by Arcosanti\'s claim to fame:  the famous wind bells designed by Italian artist Paolo Soleri.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYes, I said wind <em>bells</em>, not wind <em>chimes.  </em>There\'s a difference.  Which you will hear for yourselves in just a sec.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nWhat is Arcosanti, you ask?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nIt\'s an urban laboratory experiment in the middle of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOr as <a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/community\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>their website</strong></a> states:  \"Arcosanti is an urban laboratory focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri\'s theory of compact city design, <strong><em><a href=\"http://www.arcosanti.org/arcology\">Arcology</a> </em></strong>(<em>arc</em>hitecture + ec<em>ology</em>).\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThere are approximately 60 adults and children that call Arcosanti home, and this number increases during workshop season.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nGroovy, huh?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nYep.  You guessed it.  Arcosanti was born in the 70s.  It\'s got hippy written all over it.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI have a sudden urge to break out into \"Peaceful Easy Feeling\" right now, but you can\'t hear me, so what\'s the point.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnywho, FOR 17 YEARS I\'ve wanted to visit Arcosanti.  And then one day a few weeks ago A New Friend invited me.  In fact, New Friend suggested it as a \"Playdate Idea\".\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nSee?  I really do listen to your suggestions, dear readers.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nNew Friend and I schlepped 1.5 hours out into the desert to enter the Urban Laboratory.  (Technically, it took 2 hours because we were yakking away and passed the exit by a long shot.)\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11222\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11222\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11222\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030003-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11223\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11223\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11223\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030005-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThe desert really is beautiful, no?  Don\'t you get a peaceful easy feeling just looking at it?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nAnd you thought the Eagles were high when they wrote <strong>that song</strong>.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11230\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11230\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11230\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300071-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11229\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P90300201-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" />\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOk, so the Eagles were undoubtedly high for most (if not all) of the 70s, but my point is that you don\'t need to get high to enjoy the beauty of the desert.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nThis has been a PSA by Late Bloomer.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11233\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11233\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11233\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030014-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11243\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11243\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11243\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030019-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI am one of those people on a tour that doesn\'t hesitate to ask questions.  Lots and lots of questions.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nI try to filter my questions, as I want my fellow tour members to have the opportunity to pose their questions.  However, I\'ve observed throughout the years that most people suddenly become shy and clam up in tour situations.  I therefore feel a responsibility and a duty to pipe up so that the tour guide doesn\'t develop a complex.  The Arcosanti tour was no different.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nMy questions tend to be relevant and (if I may say so myself) interesting.  Upon seeing this site on the Arcosanti tour, what would your question have been?\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11239\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11239\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11239\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030025-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nFor me, it was obvious.  We were touring a peaceful easy kinda place.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:  </strong>\"How often are there pool parties down yonder?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Pretty often.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Are they . . . . you know . . . . <em>free</em>?\"  * wink, wink *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"Huh?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"You know . . . . au natural?  In the buff?  Bathing suit optional?\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"No.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>   \"Oh.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n* awkward silence *\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Me:</strong>  \"Well . . . . I bet there were plenty of naked pool parties here in the 70s!\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<strong>Tour Guide:</strong>  \"I don\'t think so.\"\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<em>Riiiiight.</em>  And there\'s some beachfront property in that neighboring Arizona town that the guys from The Eagles will sell you after this tour is over.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOk, ok!  Enough of my irreverence!  Arcosanti is a unique and special place.  I highly recommend a visit.  Plan to come at lunch for a delish and nutrish smorgasbord of homemade delights.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOh, yes.  And then there\'s the famous wind bells.  They are made by artisans at Arcosanti, and you can locate them all over the property.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11244\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11244\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11244\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030013-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a><a href=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11245\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-11245\"><img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-11245\" title=\"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA\" src=\"http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/P9030015-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" /></a>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nTake a look and listen for yourselves.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<iframe src=\"http://www.youtube.com/embed/zu_YqU1aKZI\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\"></iframe>\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\nOddball that I am, I waited 17 years to descend on Arcosanti and didn\'t buy a bell.  Can you believe this???\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n<a href=\"http://www.cosanti.com/\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Cosanti</strong>,</a> here i come!  And i promise to be quicker this time around.  I am building a secret garden patio, and I will need to add finishing touches in approximately 17 days.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;','Playdate #35:  Have You Ever Urban Experimented? ','','inherit','open','open','','11219-revision-17','','','2012-09-28 12:44:52','2012-09-28 19:44:52','',11219,'http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2012/09/28/11219-revision-17/',0,'revision','',0);
