We live in a vacation hotspot of the Northeast.

I often forget this. I can’t see the ocean from my kitchen window (or any other window), we don’t have weekly clam bakes, and I work just as much in the summer as any other time, so mostly I feel like our neighborhood is just like any other neighborhood any other place in the Good Ol’ US of A.

Then it’s July. Suddenly I can hear the drone of jet skis from a nearby lake. Every car leaving the neighborhood has a kayak strapped to its roof. The population doubles, triples, QUINTUPLES.

And they all bring their cars to our little streets. And they’re all on vacation so they’re not in a hurry to get anywhere. (Do not ask my husband about our drive to the hospital in the middle of July to deliver my youngest. There was a bit more traffic than was convenient for us. And I might have underestimated how fast a second labor can progress. Both of which might have contributed to the fact that my darling bundle arrived a scant eight minutes after we rolled into the hospital room. The mere mention of the drive still sends him into cold sweats.)

Also in July: Church at the Beach. This picture is basically useless in giving you an idea of the view - maybe imagine it lined up next to itself about seven times. Without a wide-angle lens on my point-and-shoot, this is the best I can do.

I don’t know what else will make two toddlers rejoice more than an early morning trip to the beach, in church clothes, with absolutely no mention of any requirement to sit still during the entire church service.

And who would show up at our beach service this morning but Bono!

Fine, I’ve never seen anyone famous vacationing here as long as we’ve lived on the Cape. But seriously, I think she looks like Bono in these sunglasses.

And she can sing.