mud pies to medicine: You Never Know When...

Thursday, July 14, 2011

You Never Know When...

...a sunset is just going to knock you off your flip-flops.

Today I spent a wonderful day at the beach with a college friend. She drove in this morning and we cruised to the shore in my open top Jeep Wrangler. It sprinkled a bit but by the end of the day the sun was shining, I was looking crispy (thanks mom for the amazing tanning skin!), and Surf Tacos and Homemade Ice Cream were enjoyed, thoroughly. On my way back to my apartment I passed a beautiful scene in the car and just had to pull a u-turn and take a photo. Proof that you just never know when having a camera sitting in your back seat will pay off! I couldn't do it justice but I snapped some shots from the side of the road. I'm glad I turned around- it was well worth the 10 minute detour!

1 comment:

TaraJuly 14, 2011 at 10:06 AM
Can we talk about how all I've been craving lately is Surf Taco? Gahhh, this just made it so much worse. Sigh.
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The inspiration you ask?

I miss making mud pies. There is this huge rock in my front yard. To call it a rock really does it a dishonor. It is a boulder, brought home by my father on a huge dump truck after he blasted it out of a work site. My mom one day told me that even though it is nearly 2.5 feet high, 6 feet long, and 2.5 feet wide, that it was, in fact, only half-showing. The scientist inside of me was disbelieving and set out to get some proof. Clad in a dress, bow in my hair, and my best accessory, a shovel, I trudged outside ready to prove my mother wrong. That is when the digging began. I dug, and dug, and dug, and nearly all 3.5 feet of Danielle fit in that hole when I had reached the bottom of the rock. That became my digging spot, my mud pie kitchen. Each day it was dug, and each evening it was filled back in. Sometimes the holes were small, sometimes they were enormous, and most days the hole was turned into my mud mixing bowl with that rock as my counter. The novelty never wore off. The ebb and flow of my childhood was, in many ways, measured by the ever-changing depth of that hole in the front yard, the hole that never really disappeared even each day after it was filled in. Even though the grass has grown back in that spot, there still remains, an indentation, the scars of a childhood well lived and the disbelieving scientists I have always been.

So, you ask me why I want to be a doctor? I do not want to be a doctor. I want to open a mud pie bakery with the cash register on that rock in my front yard. But, somehow, I doubt I would stay in business long, for the world seems to have lost its taste for mud pies. I guess being a doctor will have to do.