Sunday...Malasadas

For several years we would vacation at White Horse Beach. We rented a cottage as close to the beach as possible, packed our little Toyota full and drove straight down Rt 3 to the WHB exit and for two weeks it was sand, sun ,beach and wine coolers...lemon-aid for cherubs! This was bliss for Karen, Kim and  Mary Ellen, I on the other hand am not good sitting in one place. Needed a good book, so I am probably the only vacationer in history to have a library card in the local library. No over due fees either.

White Horse is actually a bit south of Plymouth so we did some of the usual touristy things, the Rock, the Mayflower II, Plymouth Plantation, etc. Occasionally friends would come down and spend a day or two or we would visit Alice and Murph (in-laws) at their place up the road. This was pre-fishing obsession for Karen so it was swim, walk, sun bath, nap, etc. 

We did have a couple of interesting moments though. While we were enjoying the sun, someone broke into our house and swiped some of Mary Ellens' jewelry. Trying to remember how that news got to us...long before cel phones. Another time a hurricane had us in its path...we stayed anyway and it missed us. Happier about something that didn't happen...since the nuclear plant is about two miles from our beach, I'm very happy that we never heard any alarms!

At the end of the beach was a shop that had Portuguese Malasadas on every sunday morning. Hot, sweet and delicious. I loved them. We all did. Thanks, Karen for this memory!