My body's at home, but my brain's at the beach

A little less than a week ago we got back from our vacation. I’m just now accepting the fact that we’re home, and therefore willing to blog about the trip as a past experience.

We went to Seacrest Beach, a tiny little beach town in a string of tiny little beach towns between Destin and Panama City. We sort of went there by accident a couple of years ago (you can read about that here and here) and we fell in love with it, so we couldn’t wait to return. We rented a big house with my brother Jacob and his wife Patty, my brother Michael and his wife Siobhan, and their two sets of three kids each. Yes, that makes 6 adults and 9 children in one house. Yes, it was loud. And messy. But it was also lots of fun.

I went through my pictures and noted the ones I wanted to put on the blog. Then I counted them. There were 58. Unfortunately, with Blogger, it would take about 4 days to upload that many pictures. I whittled it down to 30-something, and I think I’ll split those up into a couple of posts.

In fact, it’s being particularly persnickety right now, so I think this post will just have to start things off with 4 pictures, and maybe it will be a little more obedient tomorrow.

Our halfway decent family picture, if you don't count my out of control hair:

All together now: awwwwwwwwww.....

Boys sure do love sand. Pretty sure Aaron ate about 3 cups of it while he was sitting there.

I guess eating sand wears a little guy out...

Blogger has my blood pressure up right now with this photo frustration, so I'm going to walk away. Tomorrow I'll try again with more pictures--I really do have some great ones. In the meantime, go Google Seacrest Beach and see why I'm in denial about coming home.