A Day At Spring Lake

Susan and I no sooner came home from our walk when the skies opened, as the saying goes, and it poured.  "Darn," I thought, "there goes our day at the beach," so I didn't put on my bathing suit.  Got up north by 8:30, and we left thereafter for Spring Lake after stopping at the supermarket.
Before we got to Spring Lake, the rain stopped and we set up our chairs on the beach under heavy clouds.  Then, miracle of miracles, they cleared in favor of glorious sunshine. 
It turned out to be a lovely, nothing-like-summer-for-pure-enjoyment day.  We talked, I put my feet in the water (I was such a jerk for not bringing my suit), walked about a mile on the hard sand, then decided we had better seek shade.
Did so at a pavilion, not far away, which was nicely equipped with restrooms, picnic tables, and benches out of the sun.  Had lunch, which we had both packed, then decided to check out an over-55 condo called "The Essex And Sussex" (you can't live there if you have a lisp).
This is a huge and stunningly elegant complex--in one building--that has been tastefully renovated and is crowned with a yellow and white cupola.  It's right on Ocean Avenue, which borders the beach, and the views of the Atlantic must be spectacular from most rooms.  We went in a visitors' entrance to be greeted by a man and woman behind what looked like a large hotel desk in a gigantic lobby.  They said all units were taken, but there were some re-sales available and directed us to Caldwell Banker.
Found the agency and learned that although the smallest unit (one bedroom) was only about the price of a reasonably-price stand alone house (and my companion commented that it may be in the basement), none included stoves, as the owners had been not granted the required variance (or whatever it's called).  I could live with that--maybe--but I surely couldn't with the maintenance fee: $800 a month!  Too bad, because it's an incredible place. 
Went back to the beach, where my companion swam and I sat contentedly on the shaded boardwalk.  Bought myself something called "a screwball"--about a half cup of Italian ice in a cone-shaped container, which was three bucks, for heavens' sakes.  Didn't know to what the name referred until I ate my way down to a gumball--ugh!--and threw it out.
My companion came out of the ocean refreshed and we drove to the small business section. Saw some upscale shops and restaurants, which one would expect in a town whose residents have an average annual income of gazillion bucks. Went to a lovely park and walked two wooden foot bridges over a serene and tree-lined lake. 
Nearby, we saw a large and beautiful brick building, surely a hundred or more years old, exquisitely maintained and set in lovely grounds.  The sign on the lawn read "The Community Center," and we went it.  It includes a gorgeous theatre--oh, lucky, lucky them--and a tiny library, where we sat and read newspapers for twenty minutes or so.
After more walking through the town, we left about 4:30 and got back to my companion's 35 minutes or so later.  Said goodbye to her and stopped on the way home for fresh Jersey peaches, one of the many joys of summer.
And days like yesterday head the list.