Reflections on a Ferry Beach Weekend

How many things UU can you cram into 40 hours? Oh, about 40 jillion. Let's say you drive for a couple of hours through perfect weather (not really) or a Dark and Stormy Night (yep), right after work on a Friday evening. Let's say you arrive at a lovely hundred-year-old lodge building called Ferry Beach around 9:00 at night with one sleeping toddler and a hyperventilating, ecstatic-to-be-finally-there, who-can't-wait-to-see-his-friends six-year old. Let's say you can quickly unload the car with the help from old and new UU friends, and tuck the youngest in safe and sound on the second floor of the hundred-year-old lodge, and run down to the first floor for some snacks and perhaps alcoholic repast while the older child unwinds and you start to feel the muscles in your neck uncurl. Let's say you carry half a glass of vino down to the beach, which is maybe half a block from the lodge, where you can listen to the surf slow your heart rate down.

How much more can you cram into the next 38 hours? Oh, there's about 30 jillion possibilities. There's the great Made-By-Somebody-Else breakfast, more walking on the beach, more playing on the playground, exploring the other old buildings, hiking through the woods, incredibly brave UUs SWIMMING in the WATER, not warm, racing around on bikes, playing a little soccer/volleyball/frisbee/whatever, rehearsing for the Talent Show, collecting cool shells, skimming stones on the surf, reading on the porch, playing a little chess/Fish/Parcheesi/whatever, quilting, embroidering, rocking, drinking lots of lemonade and cocoa, running into cool cocooned pre-teens, climbing/scootering/hiking/walking, and then lunch. Made By Somebody Else.

And then there's the scavenger hunt, or maybe a nap. Or both. And then there's car trips to tidal pools, or old, old churches, or "fashion outlets", or just along the shore. Or maybe a nap. Or maybe all of it.

And then there's dinner. Made By Somebody Else. Who does the dishes, too.

Then a Talent-No Talent Show. Emcee'd by a professional, with piping six-year-old boys soprano-singing to break your heart, or Star War modeling, or pre-teen dancing and karaoke to lift your heart, or gaggles of Red Hot UU Mamas to make you shake your booty. And that should be enough, right, except no, it's time for the CAMPFIRE, a big blazing bonfire in the heart of the coastal woods. With singing (even harmony!) and little lights and S'mores so nicely provided, again By Somebody Else.

And THAT should be enough, but no, it's another Social/Games hour after the kids have been safely tucked into their respective bunks, where they sleep soundly, all the night through. Or reading by the indoor fire or walking by the beach. Or chatting/nodding, nodding/chatting, usually while rocking. Everybody sleeps well. And then it's breakfast (and again as always, Not By Us) and outdoor play, and then a church service, in the woods, with birds and branches accompanying the Pick-Up Choir, and a big giant candle of celebration and concern, but mostly celebration. And then finally a little task-oriented behavior- cleaning and stowing and getting ready to go. Except for one last meal, again cooked By Somebody Else.

Then a little saying sayonara on the sidewalks with Coffee Hour acquaintances now much better friends. Driving home figuring out just exactly how long you'll have to wait to have another 40 hours with this much pleasure and this little work.

-Robin Schoenthaler
(with additional memories from Kenzie and Cooper)

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