I was thinking about my childhood today. And some of the happiest moments were spent on vacation in this house. New Crocus by the Sea in Wildwood Crest, New Jersey. My mom, sister, and I would stay–usually on the third floor–for two weeks every summer. We would be so excited about the weekend when my dad would arrive, and then he would come and be miserable and ruin everything. He wasn’t part of our traditions. He wasn’t part of the routine. He didn’t enjoy our morning bike ride on the boardwalk. The fresh squeezed orange juice from our favorite stand. Our trip to the beach. We were home before most of the people started going to the beach. By two we were showered and sitting on the porch or in the sitting room enjoying a new book from Atlantic Bookstore on the boardwalk. After a leisurely day reading and playing games, we would enjoy dinner and then go for a walk to the boardwalk. We were allowed two rides each night and a couple rounds on our favorite game: Leap Frog. By the time all the other kids on the board walk were whining and tired, we were already enjoying our walk home. I loved that time.