It was ten minutes to midnight by the time we piled on our layers ("You actually do look like a puffalump," N. said, laughing at me as I put on my fourth and fifth and possibly sixth layers) and made it down to the beach. We huddled over the cell phones until they flipped from 11:59 to 12:00, and then we said, in normal voices, "Happy New Year!" and turned to watch the fireworks down the beach.
S. and I walked along the water in the dark, with the sound of the waves and the popping of the fireworks. I wrapped my headlamp around my wrist, and then I took my mittens off to loosen my scarf, and the headlamp must have fallen off. S. and I retraced our steps one way and then back, but there was no headlamp to be found in the dark, and by daylight the next day the tide had come and gone, and the headlamp was no more. This is why I should not be allowed to have nice things. See also, this.
S. and I walked along the water in the dark, with the sound of the waves and the popping of the fireworks. I wrapped my headlamp around my wrist, and then I took my mittens off to loosen my scarf, and the headlamp must have fallen off. S. and I retraced our steps one way and then back, but there was no headlamp to be found in the dark, and by daylight the next day the tide had come and gone, and the headlamp was no more. This is why I should not be allowed to have nice things. See also, this.
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