Au bord de mer

I just got back from a refreshing evening on the seashore. I went with a friend to the rocks just above the lightly crashing waves, to chat for a time. The cool breeze reminded us that we were at the ocean with the scent salt in the air. It was the perfect temperature. Earlier today we went to bring comfort to a German lady who had recieved a nerve-racking call earlier this week. She said someone called, said they were the brother of someone she knew, and said they were coming by friday morning to harrass her. The police were called, and all the volunteers rallied the troops to be there for her friday morning because she was really scared. So we went and hung with her to make sure no one came to knock at her door. However. . . what I didn't have the heart to explain was that it was probably me who called to "harrass" her. She doesn't understand my accent, which can cause some problems on the phone. She understood well enough that I was coming on Friday morning to visit her, but as to who I was. . . my best guess is that when I said, "Petits Freres des Pauvres" (Little brothers of the poor), she somehow took it as the brother of some person she knows. Oops. It was all taken care of in the end.