Dear Diva’s,
My Guy’s been cracking me up lately. We are at Lowes where he asks for help with light bulb selection. Buying a light bulb requires an advanced degree these days. The Lowes guy is sooo nice to us, My Guy decides to treat this person as his personal consultant throughout the store. He exclaims, as he follows him through the aisles in his happy Boy Scout voice, “I LOVE being helped!” I don’t know about you, but I think this is some kind of major admission coming from a guy, kind of on par with asking for directions. Later that week he comes zooming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around him shouting and waving his free hand, “I’m calling FOUL, ILLEGAL PROCEDURE, there’s not enough toilet paper on that roll for me to do my duty.” Gals, can you count on one hand how many times your guy has replaced the toilet paper roll in your house? I think we are in “roll” reversal here.
One of the first things we need to do after moving to the beach is to get the address changed on our state licenses. This is about a 45- minute trip to a small town on a neighboring island. We’re told the NC License Plate Agency is located in the
Back to the light bulbs. They were the wrong kind. I guess nice doesn’t equal right.
Really everyone seems like they are in a good mood here. Maybe it’s the negative ions coming off the ocean. A quality of living not necessarily related to income. I say this because some people here have three jobs to make ends meet yet they do it without complaint. It’s what we do to live here, they say. There’s an independence of spirit and ingenuity people possess that is inspiring. One woman here makes specialty doll clothes, is an administrative assistant and gets royalties from a Christmas song a relative wrote a generation ago which continues on in perpetuity. All manor of jobs are combined like power washers and yoga instructors with wait staff, surf instructors and bartending, every combination you can think of doing. Many young people go on to start their own businesses. They work hard, 80 + hours a week in season, and play hard off season often taking a month or more to travel. It’s living a life style.
There are dividing lines though like local really means local. I met a woman who says she’s been here for 37 years. Oh, I say, you’re local, Oh no, she says, and the locals know it. Another guy chatted with me while waiting for our prescriptions. I tell him I just moved to the beach. How about you I ask, are you new to the beach? Who me? Oh no, my family’s been here since 1650. Now that’s local. He rattles off names like Midget, Spencer, O’Neal.
Guess I’m destined to be a visitor.
That’s it for now. All my love, and …
Goodnight From Greenville (Only I’m at the Beach),
Dyanne