“Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.””
My family and I are enjoying a week in Holden Beach, renting a house right off the ocean. Our custom is to not be too busy, going here and there. Head to the beach, retreat to the pool, have some food, and lather, rinse, repeat. In the words of the poet - “We don’t do much throughout the day, that's how we like it best. We nibble grapes, we watch the waves, we take a little rest.”
Our first day and a half here was dominated by clouds, but not rain. The sand was cool, the ocean pleasantly warm, and the pool entirely too cold, though that did not stop one toddler, teeth clattering, from enjoying it.
The end of the week will come quite quickly and we'll reluctantly pack up our things, longing for maybe just one more day, thinking of all the things we could do with that time.
For now, our kids are napping and I'm enjoying the view from our deck, thinking the sand (which is now lava hot) and the pool (which has yet to catch up to the break in weather temperature) look so inviting. Maybe tomorrow I'll go out and avail myself to their pleasures before I become a supervisor once again. Iffing (of course) the weather holds, and iffing (more of course) their naps consent.
For now, I have most of the rest of the week to make plans and watch dragonflies flit about from the porch and the waves crash into the shore.