1984: Best vacation

The woman in the photo is my mother. The afghan hound is owned by Gayla, a long-time family friend, and is named Fozzie. The bichon frise is named Dudley and belonged to us. The photo was taken in October of 1984 in Westport, Massachusetts, which at the time most called Acoaxit. 

I was living in Minneapolis then (we're all from southeastern Pennsylvania) and working at a liquor factory. I was twenty-six. My mother invited me to join her and Gayla on an autumn vacation in Acoaxit, where I had spent several happy summers with my parents and one of my two brothers in my youth. I usually shied away from doing things like that with my parents, but this time I said yes.
I'm glad I did. Maybe it was the ages of both my mother and I, maybe it was that we were all at a good time in our lives, maybe is was the place—a small coastal town we all knew well and loved—but I don't think my mother and I ever got along as well as we did during those two weeks. 
I took long walks on the beach, we ate simple but good meals, and the house we stayed in was small, cozy, and just yards from the shore. It was warm enough that if I were shielded by a bolder from the wind and in the sun, I could sit outside and sketch. 
My father joined us toward the end of the vacation, and I enjoyed seeing him, too, though I initially had an ape-like aversion to having another male around. I got over that, though. 
We made brief side trips to Newport and a few other less memorable places.