When I saw this on the list, I was so excited in an artsy-Sesame Street kinda way. But then when I and my literate children actually looked for some interesting W formation, we were stumped.
But then they decided to demolish the house two doors down.
Pretty little 50s? house. So cute and sweet on its little sand dune. We got a flier in the mail from a real estate agent last week, just last week, stating he had sold the property for nearly 3 milyun bucks! That's in real American dollars. Just a little concrete block fifties house. Why?
Oh,this is it's front yard. 150 feet of white sand Gulf. Bye bye 50s house, the economy thinks it's back.
Looking up to the house from the beach, it has this cute little tiki hut. The kids have always been afraid to use this hut as a hideout because we didn't know who owned the house. They will be afraid no more, because there is no house.
Above is the beautiful faux stone porch I have admired since we moved here. Undoubtedly the scene of many, many years of memories of the good kind. The owners of those memories will never again feel their bare sandy feet against those slabs, their legs wet with salt water, backs burnt, eyes smiling at their siblings and mouths watering as their mama enters from the kitchen with a sweaty pitcher of lemonade. To get all sentimental.
No more! Alas it is no more!
So me and the littluns were sure we would find some kind of W formation in all this rubble. Look at all that rebar! Not a W to be seen!
|The scary snort at rest|
But then I saw this! Sad old shuffle board court, never to be played again.
Doesn't it look forsaken and forlorn?
My babies pay tribute to the generations of ghosts that shuffled there.
And we found this! The scary snort had just barely nipped the edge of the board, creating...a W!
Don't you see it?
You have no imagination.
That's a W. A little, lower case, kinda sweeping one. It is.
I think is stands for Wrecked. Or as Isaac would say Wuined.