A good time was had by all.
“It’s the toe ring talkin’.”
That’s the excuse we gave all week as the Grannies Gone Wild laughed our behinys off over the silliest things.
It all started our first day in Savannah as we traipsed around River Street shopping for the just-right item to commemorate our fifth year of going to Hilton Head together. A pretty awesome feat. My friends going with me those many years ago, lifting me up, on my first trip back to the time share that James and I had purchased the year before he died. A milestone step.
We have gone every year since; five in all. And each year we find something to remember the trip with: headbands, coasters, a new beach item like our beach stroller, and always pictures in the sand. Usually it’s our feet. One year we all dressed in black dresses. This year it was this:
Mine is really a thumb ring but sticking my hand in the midst of all these toes proved to be a daunting task:
We are never at a loss for laughter on this trip. Making fun of ourselves is usually the biggest laugh. I don’t think we took one picture of Terah sleeping on the beach or at the pool. We just couldn’t destroy her wild, hot granny image this year:
Although it wasn’t just her that was wild and crazy.
They all had to have a turn with the pirate.
They quipped and quoted and witted and wowed me.
Even though I was very skeptical about leaving Steve (after all we haven’t even been married a year!), I can’t wait to go back next year!
Hilton Head Hogbottoms or Grannies Gone Wild or…
(to be continued)
Boohoo… Wail… Sniffle… Boohoo
Tomorrow is the sad, sad day. We don’t even voice it. Just say, “Tomorrow is it.”
Our last tide is today; our last chance to stand at the end of the earth/dirt/sand before it morphs into ocean; our last walk along sand and shells and dead sea creatures washed ashore.
But there is this piece of us that is excited. Home.
And though we have had a great time eating at Ela’s, The Old Oyster Factory, Skull Creek Boathouse, and even Pizza Hut (which has great thin crust veggie pizzas I might add), and 11th St Dockside, there is a piece of us, a pretty good-sized chunk, that will be glad to have a baloney sandwich on our own porch.
The memories of the families making sand sculptures (this year’s half alligator/half ladybug won the best-according-to-Brenda prize) and young men with their virility screaming at any young gal that walked across their path and the runners/walkers/seashell collectors and the grandmas and grandpas helping each other or playing with their grandkids, and the funny, interesting, just down-right-love-to-watch-them children will sustain me until next year.
I’m going to print out Dar’s Hilton Head Expense sheet and savor the memory of each item.
This is what our green-striped home looks like from the ocean edge. It is a mile walk. And the reason it is a mile walk is because we dump all our beach stuff as soon as we get on the beach. Not five feet from the walkway. And the reason we dump all our stuff not five feet from the walkway is because it’s heavy and cumbersome to drag through that sand even with out nifty beach stroller. You can see it sitting there beside our “home.”
Notice on the right of our tent there is an orange, diamond-shaped sign. That sign is the do-not-disturb-the-loggerhead-eggs warning. I only wish I could be there when they hatch and start making their way to the ocean. And even though our little tent was very low to the ground (it kind of kept falling apart on us), it worked great. Geri only ran into it three times maybe?
There aren’t as many people this year as last year. Still quite a few in our area of the beach, though. So the beach walk started out looking like this: people all over the place. Which. of course, is very cool. I love it! Perhaps my favorite are the dads showing their little ones the water for the first time. The little tykes hang on to their daddy’s legs as they stumble about the waves and uneven sand. I just don’t see enough of that… daddies with their children. So it gives me that warm fuzzy.
Walk just a short way down the beach and there are fewer and fewer people.
I’m sorry. I just had to throw this really cool picture in here. I love the beach, and if you do, too, and aren’t here, then I totally apologize for this picture.
I tried to edit the picture above, but couldn’t for whatever reason. There are several loggerhead nests. I can’t help thinking how cool it would be to live in one of those houses and watch for the little turtles. Did I say that already? Alas.
The line grew tight and the fight was on. Pulling and reeling in. Pulling and reeling in. Finally:
Hey!! What’s that hand doing in my glory picture? Curse this computer! I tried and tried to edit that stinking hand out of there. Stinking, yes, because it is the actual hand that caught that big fish. He was nice enough to let me pretend for a second that I did. It looked like so much fun when he was reeling it in, and sure enough, when I asked him if it was fun, he looked me straight in the eyes and said with great conviction, “It was fun.” I was so excited for him. Good thing his little woman got it all on video.
I couldn’t help myself. This is just such a neat picture.
So tomorrow is the day for shelling. Searching for seashells by the seashore.
Tonight was the Old Oyster House, or something like that. So, of course, we had to have oysters. How can a person go to an oyster restaurant and not have oysters? It’s sacrilegious!!
So we ordered Oysters Rockefeller. And they were pretty doggone good. As was the stuffed flounder and the most delicious chocolate mousse in an almond meringue basket… and the creme brûlée. I so love desserts.
Then on to the movies. We are going to OD on movies this week. We’ve already made our minds up and we are not going to feel guilty! Tonight’s movie was Heat. It was great except for all the cursing. Very heated words in that movie and also very funny. LOLed rather loudly, but so did a lot of other people. Really. It was a laugh-out-loud movie.
Good times tonight. Simple times. Trying-something-new times.
It’s easy to tell that Hilton Head will be on the horizon before too long. The laughter and hilarity is rampant in this awesome new van of our sweet friend, Terah.
We’ve already discussed having to tuck Lisa in bed (I can’t give the details)(oops! I was supposed to change the names of the innocent and not-so-innocent). “Who’s going to bring me my coffee in the morning?!”
The topic on Darla going G. I. Joe since her emergency appendectomy along with the benefits of wearing or not wearing thong underwear (and the reasons for or against wearing thong underwear) have been, to say the least, informative.
I’ve already had my nap and tried to comprehend how to “flush” the door as I exited the vehicle for a pit stop at McDonalds. That train of thought shouldn’t be too hard to follow.
Geri is our official cleanliness inspector. After several years of going now, only Darla is Rambo enough to room with her, standing up to her demands for at least one more shower or bath before bedtime. Geri also washes our clothes every night which is a good thing since Commando only brought two pair of underwear.
Everything is funny! The near head-on collision with a bird has kept the two up front in stitches for miles. The two in the middle are getting ready for a midday snooze. How could they not? Those seats are recliners!!!
And me? I am once again back in my cubbyhole enjoying the show.
Ah, the throwing off of stress. We go together expecting nothing from one another… and give each other pure, unadulterated fun.