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I needed a new sweatshirt, I think they are called “Hoodies” now. It had to be a zip front as the weight of the hood always causes the front collar to choke me in the pull-over variety.

I wasn’t counting on one smelling slightly of patchouli but that is what I pulled on this evening after showering off the sand and salt from a trip to Hampton Beach.

Jackie and Jen work at the salon where my hair and I go for upkeep. I have known these wonderful ladies for years and every few months we do something fun and silly together. Last fall, Jen threw her renown Halloween party, several summers ago we rented a house on the coast of Maine together.


They are my girly-girl fix as they embody all the beauty of being women – they are saucy and sassy and all those little touches we crave are perfectly executed. They do, after all, work in a salon. Nails are shaped and newly decked out in the latest colors and designs. Hair is a perfectly coiffed accessory. I had to hide my poor bunion-covered toes in the sand in embarrassment and realized I hadn’t even bothered to wash my unruly mane. Perhaps if I had a partner to primp for I would pay better attention to the details, but frankly Alice and I don’t spend a lot of time looking at each other’s toe nails.

The weather predicted thunderstorms all day but we set out with the best intentions of catching at least some sun and just generally having a day at the shore.

Hampton Beach is a brash, neon throw-back to all things New England. The traffic circles the center, passing the beach headed North with the sea and miles of flat sand to the right; garish shops and eateries are jammed cheek to jowl on the left. When the sun gave up we loaded into Jackie’s car and headed in search of food.

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Ray’s offered not only a view and the usual fare of fried delights, the waitress was a history buff with delightful stories of ghosts and tragedies in the town.

Back to the Strip, we parked and found the Palm Reader. Jackie went first for a quick Tarot Card reading. Jen had visited this particular psychic before so her session ran a bit longer. A breeze had kicked up giving me the perfect opportunity to pop into one of the myriad T-Shirt emporiums and buy my treasured Hoodie.

Every time I put it on, I will be reminded of our adventure.

7 comments on “The Sweatshirt Adventure

  1. Touring NH says:

    Usable (a.k.a. wearable) souvenirs are the best. It looks like you had a great time. Did you take a turn with the psychic?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Agreed Laura! A hot pink sweatshirt emblazoned with “HAMPTON BEACH” is my new attire. I didn’t go for the psychic. There is nothing anyone could tell me that would change who I am or how my adventure is going to go…


  2. I haven’t been there in a long, long time!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It is fun knowing you are only there for a moment. I certainly wouldn’t want to vacation there!!


      1. No, me neither. Far too many people!

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Rina Macasaet says:

    Life after 50 is where it all begins…. again!! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks for dropping by Rina! You are so right!!


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