Photography Post - Beach Sweeper

You gotta love a place they sweep the beach every morning - not for trash (there is none) but so it is pristine with no tracks when you first walk on it.

Morning on the Beach

The Sun and the Sand and a Drink in My Hand

As some of you know I am escaping reality for a few days and going to 19.3034° N, 81.3863° W (and before you go search that on Google Maps it is in the Cayman Islands). It is time for a mental health break,  adult beverages, that blue Caribbean sea, conch, curry, plantains, and coconut palms. So, still check in, I may be able to post some days, I may not. But, have faith, I will be back, better than ever - Monday, May 27.

"Want a towel on my chair in the sand by the sea . . ." Kenney Chesney

Coming Out from Under a Rock

Did I ever mention I hate technology? Oh, yeah, I know I wallow in it for a living. And, I depend on it for a hobby. And, between my iPad, my laptop, and my phone I will no doubt die of some rare cancer brought on by continual exposure to low frequency radio waves. (In case you don't know, my current occupation is testing software and my photography hobby requires much work in a digital medium.)

I have had the same smart phone for over 3 years now. In phone time that is four generations or two eons. Future paleontologists will look at this as "forever" and probably be able to excavate the strata of sedimentary waste layers in that amount of time. But, I digress.

The battery in my cell phone was not holding a charge, and not wanting to buy a new phone nor having any reason to want one, I went into Radio Shack to purchase an inexpensive replacement battery. Nothing is simple. They did not have the regular battery for my phone but did have an extended life one in the correct size. It was more than I wanted to pay, but given it was extended life, it would definitely come in handy. When I went up to the counter to check out, one of the salesman suggested I could get a new phone for the same price as that new battery I was getting ready to buy.

I quickly explained not only did I  not need a new phone, I did not want to change plans because I have been grandfathered in on an unlimited data plan, and any change would immediately throw me out of that unlimited status and cause my bill to go up. Oh, but, no no, he protested. We are just selling the phone, not the plan. After he explained it to me, it made sense and for the same amount of money, I had nothing to lose.

So I opted for the new phone. Then he asked me for my phone number and explained he had to access my account to note that I was buying the phone. Again, he assured me my plan would not be effected. I tried to tell him he would not be able to access my account because, since I have a secure email account on my phone, it is handled by the government services arm of Verizon and retail outlets did not have access to the accounts. He looked at me like I had two heads and was eight years old. That was until, a warning came up on his screen telling him, "This account is a federal government account and you do not have access to it." Of course that led to several questions. I just smiled and said, "Well, I would tell you, but then I would have to kill you and I don't want your mama after me." I could tell he did not know whether or not to take me seriously. I just smiled and bought the battery.

On the way home, I naturally started thinking about buying a new phone. After all, I had had this one since the premesozoic period or 2009, which ever was earlier. So, I called the government Verizon folks and explained my situation. Bottom line, I could get a brand new bright shiny phone with all kind of bells and whistles for almost nothing and because I have the government account (that I have to pay for) I continue to get the unlimited data. Sign me up!

48 hours later I'm looking at a new cell phone that is going to help me run faster and jump higher. Well, that is if I can figure out how to get it out of the box and turn it on. Now in the olden days when you got a new cell phone, you had to call Verizon, mash some special code and wait for the powers that be (probably some little elves that lived in a tree) to swap the old phone number to the new phone. Today this involved simply turning off the old one and turning on the new one. And, voila! The new one had all my information. Scary. 

Of course, this meant that I had a new extended life battery for a phone I no longer used. So I packaged the battery back up and headed down to Radio Shack to return it. When I walked in, the guy at the counter just looked at me. If I had been quick enough I would have asked him if he had some type of miniature audio receiver that would fit in a shoe, but I'm just not that smart. I was more worried about him questioning me about why I wanted to return the battery. 

If they had just had a regular battery, my life would have been so simple. $8.42 and I would have walked out the door happy as a clam. But, just because I had to buy a $49.94 extended life battery, a suggestion was made to buy a new phone. And, look where I am now - trying to figure out how to answer this device when it rings. Life was so much simpler in the dark ages, with my head under a cellular rock.

Photography Post - Pink Lily 1

The bottom of the Pistil of a pink lily.

It's Official - It's No Longer My Dining Room

It's official the room formerly known as my dining room is officially no longer my dining room. Any glimmer of hope I had of ever entertaining or serving a meal in there was dashed today. Well, truth be told, there was just a flicking glimmer and it may have just been something in eye. Just because most of the dining room furniture had been moved out, my DH had commandeered a good fifty percent of the room for his personal office/closet, and what little dining room furniture remaining was holding fast at the far end of the room,  I still  tried to be optimistic. But, I digress.

"Can't we move that chest in the dining room. You know the one next to the wall. I really need the space." Sure, I thought, that will be easy. It will involve blazing a trail into that part of the room, moving the boxes and chairs that surround the piece and then emptying its contents. And, oh yeah, those contents need to be relocated. Hopefully this will take less time than the siege at Vicksburg, no casualties  and few prisoners. (55 days, 8,000 killed and/or wounded, and almost 30,000 (Confederate solders) captured.)

"It won't take that long, will it?" "To move the chest? No. To do everything else needed to get to that point? Yes." With that I launched into,what I will admit, was a manic execution  of cleaning, wrapping, and packing every piece of china, crystal, serving piece, and any other item that belonged to me (and was formerly associated with a dining room). Two and a half hours later I emerged with three large bags of trash and 14 sealed and marked boxes.

My DH then took the vacuum in and thoroughly cleaned the corners and we rearranged the furniture so that the dining room furniture was all gathered at the end of the room in one compact area - now only occupying a good twenty percent of the  room. When that was done, I moved all the boxes back in and neatly stacked them with the remnants of my former formal dining room. "We can store those you know?" "We can, but I need to be able to get into them. Believe it or not I still use many of these items." The chest that started the whole deal was moved over with the former formal furniture awaiting its transfer to storage.

Before bedtime, furniture had been rearranged, new clothes racks had been moved in, book shelves had been moved, and the room formerly known as my dining room, was even more former than before.

Photography Post - Board Walk at Dawn

A boardwalk across the dunes to the beach at dawn.

Feed Them Foreign Food and Watch Them Eat

Oh, what fun it was to entertain friends from other places. Or, perhaps as some of them may say - from civilized places. The wedding weekend was fun and special and all those things a wedding weekend should be. Of course ours had that added touch when you throw a bunch of folks from big cities, up north, the west coast, and the heartland together on a sea island in South Carolina.

After we explained to everyone that (1) they could not take a taxi from the airport (2) the closest hotel was 30 miles away, and (3) it would not be practical for them to commute from Charleston, travel plans were made and houses were rented. Oh, there were a few issues. Who knew LaGuardia would decide to close due to storms? That was quite inconvenient.

The rehearsal dinner on Friday night included everyone who had traveled in for the wedding - ie basically everyone who was going to be at the wedding. The menu was truly low country - an oyster roast and Frogmore Stew with hot dogs for the faint at heart. Some folks confused dinner with a parlor game when they were given a knife and a glove and while standing at a table had dozens of hot steaming oysters dumped in front of them.

Those from here immediately went to work shucking oysters. The timid ones concerned with cutting themselves or intimidated by the oysters alone waited for professional assistance (which was not hard to find.) Then there were the ones who had issues with what they found once the shell was opened. Not everyone savors a hot plump juicy bivalve. One guest  commented, "I didn't realize we were eating fossils!"

I'm not sure what they expected from Frogmore Stew, or Low Country Boil as folks call it, but when they saw the mounds of pink shrimp, plump sausage, and corn dumped before them into the long wooden serving bowl, no one complained.

The weather had turned chilly, and we were in the middle of a thunderstorm, but it did not seem to dampen anyone's spirits. Everyone was dry and happy under the beach house, even if they weren't sure what they were eating. Music and libations flowed freely. And, although this old dog crawled back on the porch at a respectable time, the party went on, for some unto four in the morning.

Photography Post - Lawn at Brookland Pointe

The Lawn at Brookland Pointe - it sits on a bluff overlooking the marsh and the Wadmalaw river on Edisto Island in South Carolina. This was the site of our daughter's wedding reception.