One of the only things I really missed about Florida while in France was beach evenings. Right now, the water in the gulf is hotter than a bathtub. The gentle, sloppy waves combined with the company of dolphins and sting rays makes it other worldly. We all float around in the soup until the last possible moment.
Then we beach comb. On this sojourn, we found a baby shark that had recently died (it had a small puncture wound on its head - maybe a bird?). It was too perfect a specimen to leave, so we did what we do. A little iPhone research and call for help on social media helped us decided that we would try to preserve the shark in isopropyl alcohol. (We need to have formalin on hand in the future!).
At 10 pm we pulled back into our center-of-the-state town and I flip flopped my sandy self into a Walgreens, loaded up my cart with alcohol and then asked the pharmacist for a syringe. "Any size will do," I casually said. "As long as I can use it to inject."
When we got home, we emptied and cleaned out our gallon popcorn jar and filled it up. We looked at the shark some more and then each kid took turns giving it shots. We were fascinated and saddened at the same time. But we thanked the shark for his life and hope he will live in our cabinet of curiosities for a long time.
And of course this sparked all sorts of conversations. Most interesting was the Jersey Shore shark attacks of 1916; what an amazing story!
