The last few weeks of summer are a drag for blogging and sometimes I think I should do what some of those elegant Francophone ladybloggers do and just shut down for two months while they spend their Juillet et Août doing whatever it is French and fake French people do in the waning days of summer. Strike? Storm vast prisons that actually only contained seven prisoners? I don't really know.
|Milton Waddams is my spirit animal.|
What I do know is my sleepy little patch of sand has been overrun by tourists trying to squeeze out the last few drops of forced family togetherness by renting out every single beach house to be found and getting ugly drunk at four in the morning, fighting, playing abominable music --why is it that no boisterous boozehound unlocks his bumping car stereo and thinks "Do you know what would sound great? A few of Debussy's nocturnes played at a reasonable volume for personal enjoyment."-- and sometimes using power tools, because no decision involving an angry family and a band saw ever ended poorly.
So how did you spend your Labor Day weekend? Grilling? Swimming? Barely masking family resentment? Put it in the comments!