The start of our vacation has been hit and miss. We visited Colonial Williamsburg and had an enjoyable dinner. I was deliriously tired after driving the 800 or so miles to get to Hatteras Island. I took two Dramamine while waiting for the car ferry. No motion sickness, but I felt like I was in a drunken stupor for two days afterwards.
Until yesterday, I was either sleeping or catatonic. Of course, Mel interpreted both states to mean that I was miserable. I was miserable, but it wasn't her fault. Much arguing ensued.
I felt myself slipping into depression, but I dragged myself to the beach. At first I was really scared because I've never been in the ocean. I've seen it plenty of times. Mel and I got out pretty far once I figured out how to navigate the waves. I only got really scared one time. The waves were getting pretty big, and we were out pretty far. The waves were taking us farther away faster than they were taking us towards the beach. I started backpedaling pretty fast.
Yesterday was my birthday. Mel got me Marion Nestle's latest book. We went to a nice restaurant last night for dinner. I think we're going to the beach today and maybe the lost colony of Roanoke tomorrow. It depends in part on what tropical storm Alberto decides to do.