Block Island

I wrote this on the ferry on the way to Block Island, Rhode Island from New London, Connecticut.

I don’t know if it’s my 11th or 12th consecutive summer going to BI. At this point it doesn’t really matter – it’s a long-standing tradition that I hope never ends. My best friend (whose family’s house I go to on BI) and I often talk about hoping to be able to bring our kids to Block Island in the future! Some recurring themes of my history of going to BI: I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve taken an indoor shower on BI. Blackberries grow wild in many places throughout the island. Rebecca invariably braves the thorns to harvest enough to make a pie. Heated arguments over the dinner table, usually involving the use of the word, “lesbian.” Grilled swordfish with lemon. Grilled asparagus A plethora of beauty products from The Body Shop (Rebecca’s older sister works for TBS) Rebecca and I claimed the Pink Room to be ours when we're there together. It is so named because it was painted bright pink several years ago. It was decided that the color was a bit too much, so someone sponged white over the pink. It’s interesting. It's the only room that has its original early 90s paint job. We have the best conversations right before going to sleep. Rebecca’s various (and my) projects have included assembling a swing, making lamp shades out of bottle caps from Rwanda, talking about building a bed….

After that point, I think I started getting a bit queasy from staring at a screen on a boat! My weekend at Block Island was too short, to put it bluntly. I've been spoiled by too many carefree summers in the past where I've spent at least a week there. I've resolved to store up at least a week's vacation for next summer.

Here are some pictures of beautiful Block Island: