The Pukey And Holgate

I conceived the notion of an adaptation of the short story, "The Pukey," and writing a play about it.  I did so--it's remarkably easy when for the most part, you're just picking up somebody else's words--and it's not bad, if I say it myself.  "The Pukey" is a kind of allegory about a certain aspect of modern life.  It can be found on-line if anyone's interested.
Had time to complete the play, then pick up Aline at 1:00.  We stopped first at Wal-Mart and I looked at a camera--my six or so year-old one is shot--but I wasn't happy with them. 
Drove to Long Beach Island on a brilliantly sunny, but comfortably mild, day and had good hamburgers at a small luncheonette.  After, off we went to Holgate at the southern tip of the island.
What an incredibly beautiful panoramic view of the ocean!  It crashed and smashed against the pilings and bulkhead with a wonderfully exciting and satisfying roar.  The water was a clear, bottle-glass green that can't be duplicated anywhere, the foam white as snow, and the sand all a-sparkle.  
Those in the mid-west have their mountains and city people their hustle and bustle, but the Atlantic Ocean is mine.  I was born and bred on its shore and no matter where I am, I carry it with me.
Aline and I sat and read and talked and viewed for a good two hours.  We finally packed up close to 6:00 after a fine day, only slightly marred when I got home by a phone message from Rachel, asking me to call her.  No, don't think I will.  Naturally, I found an e-mail from her this morning, assuming I'd work with her on a brochure.  When will I ever get shut of her?  (That was a good movie and I love the line.)