When we become fabulously filthy rich, the hubby and I are going to quit our jobs, move to the Outer Banks and open a bookstore. We will have a little house right behind the dunes and far too many cats. We will have crab cakes at Blue Point at least once a week. We will walk along the beach every morning and along the sound every night. We will have our own personal helicopter so we can avoid the summer traffic. We will never ever for any reason see any of the wild horses. (God I hate horses.) There will be no spiders. (Hubby has no love for the spiders.)
We leave Thursday morning to start scouting locations for the shop. Now, where do I get a gajillion dollars?