my sis and her stickie self

My sis has a selfie stick.  She got it last year and tried perfecting her selfie skill while we were in Hilton Head.  So we got all kinds of cool selfies.


She got really good at it by the time we left as evidenced by the above pic with our bikes.  It was rather hilarious on the first selfie shoot though.  Notice the subtle differences from beginning to end.IMG_0916 IMG_0917




You would think we were a bunch of old grannies trying to figure out some new-fangled gizmo.  And how did Mom get in that picture?




I think she gave up after this one.  The kind waiter snapped these of her valiant effort to accomplish a miracle.  She could do a mean two-gal selfie, though, by the end of the meal.IMG_0925

And now I think she should go selfie pro!  Look at this shot:IMG_0932


The Hogbottoms Have Turned Into Wild Boars

The usually meek and mild, sweet and sugar, grown-up Hogbottoms have shelved their mellow ways for the fast-paced, furious and frantic wild run made for the boars.  Yes.  You heard it right.  Wild boar run!

Hogbottoms on the run!

Hogbottoms on the run!

Our normal Hogbottom  activity is, well, something like this:

hogs at the trough

hogs at the trough

It all began with the elevator ride with a bunch of drunken beachgoers.  We had already gotten on the elevator, and if we had just pushed the floor button instead of standing there like a herd of dumb hogs, we would have missed the whole incident that has resulted in our boardom.

The door opened and the surprised group (after all there stood three women) began to enter.  The drunken surprised group I should say.  Three men of varying ages and one woman.  The older man was subdued; the next young man was only throwing out some bad French occasionally, but the gal who stepped all over Terah’s feet and the youngest guy were putting on a show.  Rubbing her cheek, the young man was speaking French to her as the woman laughed and spoke English, then some French.

Since none of us speak French, it could have been the song lyrics of Frere Jacques for all we know.  I do know they were not French.

The lady was speaking to the older man about his son, and the older man was apparently just trying to hang on to the wall.  So we have surmised all sorts of scenarios of the relationship between the lady who was much older than the amorous young man and the rest of the group of men.  I’m sure the truth would be much less interesting.

They are on our floor.

The young drunk very obnoxiously jerked and jerked on the outside security door instead of using a key until it came open.  Maybe they didn’t have one, but we were right there standing with them.  They could have asked us if we had a key.

No.  He proceeds to tear up the door so that now it is more difficult to get into.  We now usually have several tries before the key opens it.

This made the Hogbottoms slightly perturbed with the neighbors down the hall.  And their room just happens to be the door on the right as soon as we walk in that outside door.  And every once in a while Dar gets a little frisky.  So……

The first time it happened we were all surprised!  Scared the snot out of us.  Dar was in the middle of the group meandering back down the hallway to our room.  She put out her arm as we passed their door and knocked!

You have never seen those Hogbottoms move so fast!  We were bumping into butts and using elbows to push each other out of the way.  Lisa was looking back at the group (oh, yeah, she got the lead that night.)

That night?!!!!

It happens often now.  The running and laughing down the hall that is.  Since the first two or three knocks by Dar and Terah (if I name one I have to name them all), we are now trained to just take off running at the first whiff of a potential knock.  One Hogbottom smells the threat and begins to run; the rest of us take off too.  Butts and elbows and backward glances abound.

And the laughter.  The hilarity is more contagious than the running, and because we are laughing so hard, it’s all we can do  to get to our apartment and flatten ourselves against the wall and door to not be seen by the occupants of knocked door.

As I have thought on our knocking on the door of the drunken elevator riders, I have decided the joke is probably on us.  Not once have we heard the door open to see who knocked nor has anyone yelled out anything.  I imagine the only people we are bothering would be the poor souls on the floor below us who have heard the wild boars running.

It’s the Toe Ring Talkin’

“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:

toe rings all around

toe rings all around

Mine is really a thumb ring but sticking my hand in the midst of all these toes proved to be a daunting task:

Try No. 1

Try No. 1

Try No. 2

Try No. 2

Try No. 3

Try No. 3



... and laughter

… and laughter

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:

Geri and Terah:  two hot grannies

Geri and Terah: two hot grannies

Terah and her pirate

Terah and her pirate

Although it wasn’t just her that was wild and crazy.

my own sister getting in on the action

my own sister getting in on the action

Geri didn't want to let go

Geri didn’t want to let go


They all had to have a turn with the pirate.


Lisa wasn't too sure of him although she was leaning...

Lisa wasn’t too sure of him although she was leaning…

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)





Ah… Walking the Beach

it is sooooo far away

it is sooooo far away

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.”

a close-up

a close-up

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?

The beginning of the walk

The beginning of the walk

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.

crowds thin out after a short walk

crowds thin out after a short walk

Walk just a short way down the beach and there are fewer and fewer people.

oh, man, I love this picture

oh, man, I love this picture

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.

loggerhead nests and people nests

loggerhead nests and people nests

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 shark catch

the shark catch

The line grew tight and the fight was on.  Pulling and reeling in.  Pulling and reeling in.  Finally:

the catch!  a baby shark!!

the catch! a baby shark!!

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.

isn't this just pretty?

isn’t this just pretty?

I couldn’t help myself.  This is just such a neat picture.

seashells by the seashore

seashells by the seashore

So tomorrow is the day for shelling.  Searching for seashells by the seashore.

my awesome beach shoes

my awesome beach shoes









Home for the HHH (Hilton Head Hogbottoms)

We are packed into the vehicle, along with all our STUFF, and headed home.

Brenda in the Hole

Well, we are probably home by the time this gets posted, but at the moment I am sitting in “the hole” with my computer on my lap.  Since I can’t hook up to anybody’s Wifi, I will just cut and paste later.   And even though I already miss the ocean and its roar, I miss my girls more.

The HHH have had a great time!  We lived up to our Hogbottoms name by… well, let me explain Hogbottoms.  All five of us are in a book club called Matilda and the Hogbottoms.  Matilda Hogbottom is the alter ego of my friend, Lisa Gulley, who performs at various venues in her Matilda get-ups with her hilarious skits.

Matilda Hogbottom

She really should go on the road.  She’s that good and that funny!  At one of our book club meetings, Matilda Hogbottom showed up with little tidbits to say about all the members.  We laughed our buhineys off and were from thereon out called the Matilda and the Hogbottoms Book Club.

putting the kindle in a big quart-size baggie kept it free from sand and salt water!

This week we spent many, many hours reading and finishing our book for our next book club meeting (we also cried, rejoiced, held our breath, made theories of what could be the ending, and just flat out enjoyed that book)  Oh, yeah, the book is called The Mountain Between Us by Charles Martin.  After we finished that one, we started on new ones.

Our Kindles connected and made friends.

We each had a different color! Mine is intellectual black.

We also gave homage each evening, late, to our proclaimed name by chowing down at different restaurants.  Darla said we were like “hogs at the trough.”  And true to her analogy, we would clean our plates, practically licking them clean.  But, boy, they have some goooood food down there!  AND good desserts!

As is my routine on my last day at Hilton Head, I walked down the beach watching the families at vacation.  It is great!  I can’t decide which is my favorite:  the older couple holding hands walking along the beach; the grandmas and grandpas playing with their little grandchildren in the water, jumping the waves; the little girl with her two Barbie dolls and pink Barbie car; the dad with his little girl riding the waves on her boogie board; the little tyke in the water getting bashed by waves and hollering “Daddy” while his daddy had already started toward him from the beach, hearing that tiny little voice above the din of the ocean waves and hundreds of people; the cute little teens playing frisbee or sitting on the edge of the ocean waves; the families playing games or building awesome sand castles; the little bitty ones on their first trip to the beach, overjoyed with the waves.  Everybody watches out for everybody else.  A big family of families.

We were all mesmerized by the catamaran that overturned.

overturned catamaran — not ours, but it looked exactly like this

Actually, it sunk.  I had noticed it being rather sluggish out in the water; usually the wind will pick the sail right up and take the little boat flying off across the water.  But this particular boat was just not moving and even looked like it was sinking.  Odd.  The next time I glanced over it was on its side!  The whole beach was watching.  Finally, we saw a lifeguard swimming out to the little family, then another lifeguard.  They eventually got the boat back to the beach, and I was there waiting to see the end result.  Two young girls, maybe 11 and 12 or so, were taking their picture in front of the beached, warped-sail boat, so I asked them if they were the ones that had been on it.  Yes, they were.  Then the Mom and Dad came up, and we all chatted about their exciting adventure.  Apparently, the young man renting out the boat had failed to put the plug in, and it had started taking on water in the pontoons.  So it really did sink!  According to the girls, that was the best thing that had happened all week!

Vacation.  I even like the way the word feels in my mouth and across my lips.  Yum.

The Feet

Bummin’ at the Beach

Today is our last day.  We are all packed up and ready to load the vehicle in the morning.  It’s been a great last day of vacation at the beach.  The weather was perfect: overcast with a cool breeze.  The only mishap of the day was the jellyfish that wrapped around my ankle, but it must have been small because it didn’t sting too badly.

As I walked down the beach, it was such fun to see all the families at play, glad to be on vacation.  Some were laying out a football field while others were making a bocce spot.  Others had rented big tricycles that float in the ocean and can be paddled all over the place.  Moms were taking care of little ones, and Dads were riding bikes while pulling the children in a carrier.  There is no alcohol allowed on the beach, so it is very family friendly.  The beach patrol is always around, and today I saw the deputy sheriff vehicle driving slowly down the beach as well.  And it makes me feel safe for these families with these small children.

Older grandmas and grandpas sit under the umbrellas and watch their families all gathered together from different parts of the country.  They take walks along the beach together and help one another gather all the “beach stuff” to start the trek back to their temporary home.  The grandchildren run into the ocean, build sand castles, dig holes they can sit in, play beach tennis, surf, and have a blast.

There were cute little teenagers with their tight little bodies riding bikes along the waves, eyed by everyone: those jealous of their tightness and their youth, those appreciative of their beauty, those enjoying the fact that they were enjoying themselves.  There was a grandma with her three granddaughters on a beach walk, looking for shells and whatever else looked interesting.  There were boys and girls (and adults) making sand sculptures.

It was just neat, seeing all these people from different places around the world, enjoying God’s gift to us: the beach.  A perfect ending to a perfect week.