- internet connectivity on vacation was spotty at best
- vacation photos require much editing of unhappy angles (meaning pasty white chubbiness)
- the dog required much attention and love after being abandoned at the gulag (boarding kennel) while Egg and I frolicked on the beach
- I went to Maryland Sheep & Wool three days after we got back from our island escape and am still recovering from fiber overload
- I've been in an extended post-vacation slump
We flew in and out of Daytona Beach using a small flight service that goes straight to the island, bypassing Nassau completely. I'm not a mega-resort and casino/nightclub action kind of girl, and the idea of being stuck on a cruise ship with multiple thousands of people is about as close to Hell as I can imagine, so that suits me just fine. Also great is skipping most of the post-9/11 air travel unpleasantries.
Our original plan was to go sailing with my step-dad, but a combination of his building timetable slipping a bit behind and a rash of scary brushfires in the area made us change plans. It just didn't seem like a good idea to leave their home site unattended for days on end.
We rented a place in Little Harbour, up the way from where my folks are building in Casuarina Point. As the seagull flies, it's only a couple miles; by road it's about 12 or so. Island geography is funny that way. We quickly got into vacation mode. (And dig that farmer's tan/sunburn thing on my arm!)
With generous coating of SPF45 I got back
in touch with my salt water self. (BTW, when the label on the sunscreen says "May stain some fabrics", believe it. A couple T-shirts look like they have carrot juice spills in awkward places.) Mother Ocean was a little testy with me at first for having neglected her for the past three years, but she relented fairly quickly. My beach crawls were rewarded with lots of small treasures - beach glass is magic - and in the water I had small finny escorts. After one beach nap I woke up to see a ghost crab eying me as if weighing whether I was dead and worth a nibble; he moved on. Egg preferred a more sedentary and shady approach to relaxing, understandable with his burn-not-tan skin that no SPF can completely protect.
Partly because of the wild fires, partly because that's just the way it is down there, phone service was unreliable while we were there. For quick and easy communication with my folks down the way, we used the VHF radio (kinda like CB radio for boaters), and my call sign was "Wayward Daughter". Egg came up with it, and I thought it was perfect. Since the radio channels are open, there were probably a few boaters wondering where the hell this oddly named boat was.
With generous coating of SPF45 I got back
in touch with my salt water self. (BTW, when the label on the sunscreen says "May stain some fabrics", believe it. A couple T-shirts look like they have carrot juice spills in awkward places.) Mother Ocean was a little testy with me at first for having neglected her for the past three years, but she relented fairly quickly. My beach crawls were rewarded with lots of small treasures - beach glass is magic - and in the water I had small finny escorts. After one beach nap I woke up to see a ghost crab eying me as if weighing whether I was dead and worth a nibble; he moved on. Egg preferred a more sedentary and shady approach to relaxing, understandable with his burn-not-tan skin that no SPF can completely protect.Partly because of the wild fires, partly because that's just the way it is down there, phone service was unreliable while we were there. For quick and easy communication with my folks down the way, we used the VHF radio (kinda like CB radio for boaters), and my call sign was "Wayward Daughter". Egg came up with it, and I thought it was perfect. Since the radio channels are open, there were probably a few boaters wondering where the hell this oddly named boat was.
