All I really wanted to do this evening was lie on a beach somewhere and doze. I'd have needed and umbrella for shade, of course, as my pasty skin burns to a crisp in about thirty seconds, but what I needed most was a beach! None within a hundred miles of this place, unless you count those grubby little strips that sometimes are found along the edges of reservoirs. For me, no ocean means no beach. I had to make do with the shade of the mulberry tree, but squawking blue jays are no substitute for the sound of waves.
I think I'll have a bottle of Sierra Nevada Summerfest and feel sorry for myself for not having an ocean to call my own.