Kure quietude

Well, Mike is between jobs (no, literally), having decided to switch over to a new postdoc at Duke. I think somewhere it might be knocking his Carolina pride to be going over to the Blue Devils, but then it has a certain country club attraction over there. In the meantime, he took a couple weeks off, and the first thing we did was to head south to Kure Beach (pronounced "curry") for a few days, where Mike's parents own a beach house.
The drive didn't bode well, rain soaked from Fayetteville on down, and long wet drives have a way of dislodging incongruous rambling thoughts about the nature of life and the such. But we made it there safely and awoke to a still drippy Wednesday. We headed to the little town of Southport to while away some time, and lo and behold, on the car ferry, the weather parted open onto a glorious sunny seaside day. We bumped along the antique shops and, after much debate and lazy procrastination, we bouth a little antique corner hutch, used some geometric wizardy to fit it into a stationwagon, and ferried on back to Kure for a well-deserved nap.
The next day saw us working on a little bit of a tan on the parts exposed from the woolens (it was still a pretty brisk wind) and yet more napping and we blinked and it was time to come back. Since then, it seems I spent all my time singing through the Triduum and Easter, and hoarse and tired, we napped some more today.
This week: furniture shopping!