So we continued our celebration of Mr. Muscato's birthday with a beach excursion on Friday, briefly bringing, we liked to think, a taste of Fire Island to a lovely stretch of coastline south of our fair city. A dozen or so kindred souls, a great many beach umbrellas, and enough white wine on ice to keep ourselves amused - it really was rather a magical day.
Happiest of all, predictably, was Koko, who got to run around leashless, eat barbecue, and torment herons (or egrets, or whatever the lovely leggy birds who wander the shore are. Nature has never been my strong suit). Fortunately, they're defiantly faster than he, so there were no unfortunate incidents. And he's still more or less conked out, which is just as well, 'cause so are we.