She sells seashells . . .

Or, more aptly titled, "Allie steals seashells from the seashore."

(But don't worry, Seashell Police, if you're reading this, we totally gave them all back. I promise. . . )

Someone also got into her mama's jewelry box. Again.

Finishing off where I left with our Florida trip, on our last day down in the Sunshine State, we decided to take a quick evening trip down to Sanibel Island for dinner, an impromptu shell scavenger hunt, and a view of the sunset. My Aunt Kathy made a surprise(!) trip down to see us all from Philadelphia (by way of Orlando), and because it had been so long, we were uber-excited to get in some good family time while we could. Let me just say that Sanibel is absolutely amazing. Stunning. The sand is always soft, white and pristine; the water is basically the most perfect shade of aquamarine you could ever imagine, times ten and to the power of infinity. Driftwood floats in from the Gulf, and you think to yourself, "gee, I'd (stupidly, probably) pay a lot of money for a branch like that if I saw it in a West Elm or CB2 catalog or something."* And in case my already over-the-top description of this beach isn't enough to blow your mind, you know those twisty-turny (totally a word) conch beauties and mother-of-pearl-type fan shells only found in overpriced museum gift shops? Well, for some reason, this beach is chock full of them, and they're yours for the taking.

So, armed with a little purple drugstore bucket in hand, we naturally sent Alexandra on the seashell hunt of her life. You know, to tire her out before sitting in a restaurant, watching the sunset, and peacefully drinking margaritas for the next three hours. (Author's note: Hahahahahaha, yeah right. I'm still laughing at the naiveté of this plan. Oh, young Cara, there is so much for you to learn still. Those of you who have toddlers/have ever babysat a toddler/ever even seen a toddler before can probably imagine how well this didn't work out for us.)

Either way, this kiddo had a blast. Gale-force winds aside, you'd think we had let her loose in Santa's workshop or something. Every now and then she'd find a shell she particularly approved of, and you'd hear her little squeaky voice scream out "wow, wow, WOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!"

We even tried to get a few group shots in. But naturally, of course, someone saw the ten seconds it takes to get a picture as a huge infringement on her prime seashell-hunting hours. As a sign of protest, she basically refused to crack a smile.

She may or may not (but definitely does) get this trait from her father.

So, that just about wraps up our Ft. Myers trip. Happy Friday folks! Does everyone have awesome weekend plans ahead of them? We're hoping to hit up the Cherry Blossom Kite Festival on the National Mall (pictures to come?!), and I'm secretly hoping to get some free time to reorganize Alexandra's condemnable messy closet.

* Don't believe me? Here's a picture of my sister and I (taken almost ten years ago) on one of those pieces of magical Sanibel driftwood. Totally like out of a catalog, right?

(Steph, I know you're going to kill me for making this picture available to the entire internet. All I can say is, oops . . . )


  1. The last photo was taken in the summer of 2008.

    1. Thanks! though oddly, the metadata date stamp on my computer says it was taken earlier. Thanks for correcting me though!


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