Palm Trees And Sunsets

I’m thoroughly enjoying this vacation and soaking up every bit of it, especially with the realization that we will be heading back to home and reality this weekend. The past two weeks have been the perfect mix of rest and play. Super Hubs and I agree on that balance for vacations, which is one of the many ways that we fit together so well. We like to do some adventuring and exploring, but we also relish our down-time. I’ve read 6 books, and I’m guessing my husband has read twice as many. We’ve meandered along the shore, leisurely kicking the waves and gathering shells. We’ve enjoyed a date night almost every other evening, which often was just a glass of wine under the palm trees.

We do, however, have an active nine-year-old who is not content to sit for hours on the beach with a novel. Little Squirt has been up at dawn every day, asking for the agenda. I took him on a horseback trail ride, in which he proudly road his horse, Casey, up in the front behind the guide and talked her ear off for the hour. He was a bit disappointed, though, because he expected lassos and Indians. He inquired if he could take Casey home with us, reassuring the guide that he had “lots of carrots.” He felt insulted that she wouldn’t allow him to.

We’ve taken numerous bike rides on the beautiful trails, sometimes stopping to feed horses or visiting the petting zoo. We’ve gone cruising on the Vagabond, spotting dolphins frolicking in the water. Little Squirt was baffled that they didn’t jump through hoops and wave like they do at Sea World.

Rock Star has set his own pace on this vacation, sleeping in, working out, and watching sports. But he’s joined us for dinners out, walks to Harbour Town for ice cream, and the occasional beach day.

It’s been a good two weeks. For all the sunny days, starfish sightings, fabulous cuisine, palm trees and sunsets, I am grateful.

Dancing With Danger

Today was apparently Sea Life Petting Zoo Day at the ocean. On my morning walk down the shore, I nearly stepped on a jelly fish. And then I ran into a beached baby sting ray. Under normal circumstances, like watching him backstroke in an aquarium, I’d find the sting ray kind of adorable. He was all flappy and scared on the sand, and trying to get in the water. But he had a stinger poking midway down his tail. And I knew that stinger could sting. That stinger could maim, even. Or kill. His cute-and-adorable act did not fool me. I wanted him incarcerated. However, a gentleman with a bigger heart for sea life than I have used a beach chair to flip him back into the water. So off he swam, in search of human prey to sting, I am certain.

Later, I was relaxing in my beach chair, reading a book with my toes in the water. Suddenly, a lifeguard down the beach madly blew his whistle, signaling beachers to get out of the water. I made sure my husband and son were safely on sand before making a bee-line to the lifeguard to find out what was what. Apparently, a sand shark was spotted by a fisherman. Sand sharks are not friendly. In fact, tangoing with one can lead to a painful death.

I ran back to my family to tell them about the sand shark, when I noticed a large crowd had formed around my beach chair. Apparently, according to my husband, a rogue eel had taken a liking to my beach chair and was swimming happily around it, when it was noticed by a some bystanders who screamed, which caused the eel to begin racing all over the sand. The lifeguard again blew his whistle, and shouted for all swimmers to come ashore while the renegade eel darted between feet. (At that point, the ocean was probably safer than the beach, but that wasn’t written in the lifeguard’s handbook.) The killer eel was eventually picked up by the tail by a very brave or very stupid vacationer, and flung into the ocean. I gathered my beach things and told my family it was time to go home.

The point of my post is that the sand shark saved my life. If I hadn’t run down the beach to hear about the sand shark, I would have been sitting in my beach chair when the eel came visiting, and that would have been the end of me. If the eel hadn’t done me in with its electric shock or however it murders human beings, I would have died of a heart attack. So I owe one to the sand shark. But that doesn't mean I want to be friends.

Actually, I’d enjoy the ocean so much more if it didn’t have all the sea life swimming in it. I’d allow the dolphins to stay because I view them as dogs with fins. But everything else can go. Except for the harmless starfish and sand dollars.

In any case, I made an executive decision that tomorrow will be a Pool Day.

Vacationing

It’s Day #2 of our Hilton Head Island vacation and I am about one-third relaxed. It always takes us high-strung types a few days of down-time to fully unwind. This vacation comes after a few intense weeks. A son in a bad car accident (but okay, thank you, Lord) which led to the totaling of my little Toyota and the purchase of my new Sorrento, left us drained. And the Casey Anthony trial, which I felt an intense connection to and my subsequent deep disappointment over the verdict of acquittal (more about my feelings on that later) has made my head spin. God is always sovereign, and I am feeling grateful to Him for our perfectly-timed getaway to the ocean.

We’ve spent two days at the beach, swimming and sunning, and my corpse-white shade of skin is beginning to tan. I’ve devoured two novels, watched golfers from our master suite deck, and refereed several arguments between my sons. I watched an osprey eat a squirrel, and made friends with a little blue salamander by the pool.

I love these days, when my biggest decision is what to do for dinner. Ahhh....now for a nap.