Two Tiny Monkeys, Rockport Beach, Texas May 2019

Found these adorable little monkeys during my beach walk yesterday. Though they look like gummy candy they are actually plastic (I’m not going to tell you how I sussed that out). It struck my funny bone since my fellow beach fanatics and I call ourselves Sea Monkeys. Just never know what I’ll find out there…

Copano Bay Sunset, Fulton, Texas April 2019

I thought we needed a good sunset to kick off the weekend. TGIF, y’all!

My daily beach walks are never just a casual stroll through the sand. I detest litter and have been picking it up since childhood. Chalk it up to my peculiar temperament, but I can’t relax in a messy home and it is next to impossible for me to unwind in a trashy outdoor space. Since the beaches here receive unceasing deposits of flotsam, I carry a bag with me on my rambles.

I can rely on there being a myriad of plastic pieces and shreds of plastic bags as well as a staggering amount of cigarette butts. Every. Single. Day. Sometimes I’m surprised by a cool, random object (like money). The prevalence of three specific items ebbs and flows: hair ties, acrylic nails, and band aids. I don’t understand it, but every so often there is an upswing of one of those items. Today happened to be band aid day; I collected a whopping 23 of them. They come in waves (literally, and umm, literally).

While I often find typical beach toys (which I leave under the nearest palapa for the next group of kiddos), today’s beach walk turned up a few surprises. After I give Lego robot man, cave girl, and the dinos a quick rinse I’ll toss them in a bag with other donations to the local charity. It is never boring down here…

The (Original) World’s Largest Pecan, Seguin, Texas March 2019

According to the sign next to this nut, Spanish explorer Cabeza de Vaca was the first European to describe the pecan, noting they were “good food”. Apparently, he had plenty of time to get familiar with the nut since he was held captive along the Guadalupe River for nine years.

Built in 1962, this statue is five feet long, two and a half wide, and weighs in at 1,000 pounds. For comparison, I placed an actual pecan and some nut meat that I found nearby on top. This is undisputedly my favorite pecan ever!

Let me tell you why: We had pecan trees when I was a kid and while gathering the nuts was a fun scavenger hunt, the shelling was excruciating. The tedious, messy, and finger-staining job fell to me. As Thanksgiving and its promise of pie neared, my weekend was shot. Seated at the picnic table, I had a 5-gallon bucket of pecans on my right, an empty one on the other side, and in front of me on the table sat the weapon of torture; the Texas Nutcracker.

This contraption was a gift from my favorite Aunt to Dad one Christmas. To say I did not think fondly of her when using it is an understatement. The procedure: pull back slider, insert pecan length-wise into grooved bed, attach the two heavy-duty rubber bands firmly around the peg on the base and the slider mechanism, pull the slider back six inches, (ooh, and this part is important) remember to move fingers before releasing slider.

With a loud snap, the slider pounded into the hard shell. If all went well, my fingers did not get pinched, pieces of shell did not fly out and scrape my skin, and the shell was cracked enough for me to pry it open and retrieve the mostly intact nutmeat halves (which Mom strongly preferred over pieces).

The spent shell I dropped into the empty bucket, destined to return to the tree as mulch. Ah, but I was not yet done, I still had to carefully remove the dark and bitter-tasting pith from the deep grooves in the nutmeat. Finally, the finished product plinked into the bottom of a large stainless steel bowl. One nut done; hundreds or thousands (it felt like millions) of nuts to go. It should come as no surprise that I still abhor pecans (and detest pecan pie).

Friendship Bracelet, Rockport Beach, Texas April 2019

Found this friendship bracelet in the wrack line during one of my beach strolls last week. I suppose this means I am now besties with some stranger somewhere. Fine by me, we can all use more friends…

I beachcombed these toys during my daily walks along Rockport Beach over the past couple months. I found them in this order, from left to right, and it made me chuckle when I realized they formed a pretty accurate timeline of the modes of transit in my life.

I grew up with ponies and horses but my favorite was Pancho. After school and on weekends (basically, any chance I got) we’d meander trails through the desert. I preferred riding bareback as it was the fastest way to freedom. On our way home I’d drop the reins around his neck and lay back to watch the sky. I’d share my young cares and worries, as well as my farfetched dreams, with my sweet pony; my head lolling side to side on his rump as he’d carefully walk us home.

Later, as a teenager I spent one summer zipping around a small town in Illinois on a moped. Okay, so it wasn’t a motorcycle, but I still loved that feeling of the breeze  flowing freely through my hair. I’ll admit the coolness factor of my moped was lessened by the basket up front but at least it came in handy. After I found a momma dog and her puppies at an abandoned farmhouse, most of my time was occupied collecting bottles along the roadside and redeeming them for the deposit so I could buy her dog food.

A few more years passed before I finally had my first car. The lure of the open road was (and remains) strong. I love that feeling of liberation when I open a map and follow a blue highway to anywhere. I’ve driven in all 50 states as well as through huge chunks of Canada. Along the way, I’ve logged 750,000 miles in ten different vehicles (yes, one of them was red and a couple were SUVs). Since I still love to explore, I have a shot at hitting a million in my lifetime.

Funny what you’ll find on the beach…