Setting Sail....Right After I Exfoliate

Hubby and I leave this weekend for a trip to Mexico, and Teen Angel will be staying at home. Let that sink in for a moment. Our teenager. At home. Alone. For a whole week. I feel comfortable putting this on the blog because very few local people read this blog and every one of them who does is already on a list of people who are supposed to take turns circling our home at regular intervals to make sure there are no parties going on and that she is at home at an appropriate hour. Okay, not really, but we're telling Hubby there is such a schedule so he won't worry so much. He's a basket case about leaving her, his dad and an ailing dog all in the hands of other people. He likes to worry. It's his thing. Not mine, so I'm packing and counting down the days until we sail. And that would be four, thank you.


We are taking a cruise with several of my cousins and their spouses. It's an attempt to keep the closeness our parents have felt over the years, given that their generation is dying off and it's soon going to be up to us to keep our family tight. We talked about that responsibility back in the summer and decided the best way to start was to sail on a cruise ship to a warm climate in the middle of winter and drink lots of margaritas. There might also be some limbo and dancing involved. Look out, Mexico! The first time I was there I almost won the limbo contest. Good thing I didn't. The prize was a bottle of tequila, and let's just say I'd had all of that I needed. Hence the second place finish. Why does alcohol make you more limber? Tell me that, Bill Nye the Science Guy.

Anyway, I didn't let myself get too excited about it until this week 'cause around here you never know what kind of mayhem is going to upset travel plans, but it seems maybe we're getting close enough that I can actually believe we will be sailing the Gulf in a few days. Well, there was that brief moment of excitement about two months ago when I scored cheap plane tickets for us. Other than that, I've just been holding my breath that Papa T. would stay healthy and wouldn't end up in the hospital this week. We haven't taken him out to eat this week because all we need is to drag home a good case of the flu. He seems to catch every bug that crawls by. We've been bathing in the hand sanitizer, too. More than usual. I also danced around some squirrel bones, recited a voodoo chant and said sixteen Hail Mary's. No flu. No flu. No flu. If you say it over and over again fast enough it sounds Cajun, doesn't it?

We are spending Sunday night in New Orleans, which should be interesting. It's the night before the BCA Championship Game, so Bourbon Street should be at a fever pitch of rowdiness. As daddy says, it could be a good place to get your arse whooped. We'll try to blend into the crowd, enjoy the festivities and stuff ourselves full of beignets without stepping on any toes. New Orleans is a cool place, and it's been a long time since we've been there. Who dat!

To say I haven't done any worrying this week would be a tad inaccurate. I walked by a full length mirror yesterday in shorts and a sleeveless shirt on my way to the treadmill when I realized just how white my body is. It's so white you could print phone numbers on it. And there's nothing I can do about it now. I'm just hoping there are so many Michigan and Canadian snowbirds on that boat that no one notices the shade of my legs. Also, I just realized two nights ago how dry my skin is. Normally, I wouldn't worry about it until early April, but I am in lotion overdrive right now. I should buy stock in Gold Bond because I'm certainly upping their sales. And I probably should have had my roots touched up. There is a fair amount of gray around my temples, but I won't have time to get to the barber, so I'm just gonna hope it's not noticeable in the bright glare of the sunshine. Plus, there's always a hat.

I'm hoping for a good trip. We've cruised before, and while an all inclusive kind of trip is my favorite way to see that part of the world, we enjoy cruises, and I think it should be a real hoot to goof around with the family. And truth be told, Teen Angel is probably counting the days until we leave because she's looking forward to her freedom and opportunity to goof off around here. Won't she be surprised when she finds out about that armed security guard and the chastity belt Hubby arranged for her.

Going Home

I hear it's in the 40's and dreary at home. THAT'S gonna hurt after enjoying a week of temps in the upper 80's and plenty of sunshine. We board a plane tomorrow afternoon to head home. It's been a great week. Very relaxing. Due to a proxy issue with the computer I've had available, posting has been almost nonexistant. Well, there was also the issue of me doing a whole bunch of nothin'. I've also been unable to download and post pictures, so those will have to wait a few more days. Ah, the troubles of a life of leisure.

It turned cool here this evening. These Floridians are shivering in the 50-something nighttime temp. We said, "Ha! This is nothin'. Come with us to Kentucky where we have ice storms that knock out your electricity for three weeks." And then we bought Hubby a pair of jeans at Target because SOMEBODY said he wouldn't need any pants on this trip when I was packing.

We have shopped and sunbathed and ripped around on some jet skis. We had planned to parasail this morning, but our appointment was cancelled because of high winds. Mostly, we've just laid around on the beach, resting our minds. And our backsides. I did manage to run two days. My motivation for exercise on the other five days was nil. It's back to the grind next week, given the heavy meals we've eaten.

We will help to celebrate Special Delivery's first birthday Sunday, and then the fun is over. Workers finished our floors at the new house this week, and appliances are delivered Monday. We actually have to start moving. I'm trying really hard not to think about it until I have to. I'm anxious to get into the new house, but I'd rather take a beating than pack up all of our belongings for a move. The next two or three weeks are going to be full. I swear, we'll look up one day, and Christmas will be here and gone. Just like vacation. It's been a good week, and I hate to head home, but there's a Delta fight with our names on it. Let's just hope we get there without BFF's suitcase exploding. I just took a look at it to see how it was coming, took two steps backward and said a couple of Hail Mary's.

The Reason we can Never Dance on Tables

On the shuttle between our hotel and the Nashville airport Saturday morning, a man on board commented on Hubby's bakery t-shirt, and we soon discovered he was the brother of Teen Angel's boss at the bakery. Within hours of landing in Destin and settling into our condo, we found out via Facebook that one of Teen Angel's classmates is staying in a condo just down the beach from us. We chatted with his parents while walking on the beach yesterday. AND tonight we were shoveling ice cream into our faces at a local shopping center when we bumped into our niece and her family.

Mama was right when she said it was a small world.

PS-It's official. When I retire we're moving to the beach so we can sun ourselves and people watch all stinkin' day.

Destin-Day 2

Our first full day in Destin. The weather was great with bright sunshine and wispy clouds. I can't believe how beautiful the water is here. The waves roll into the shore in a pale green that resembles jade and appear to originate in a deep green that's the shade of emeralds. It reminds me of Caribbean water, certainly not the typical water you see in the Gulf of Mexico. It's so clear, you can see the bottom, even when you're shoulder deep in the ocean. It truly is the Emerald Coast.

Our condo is nice. Our research paid off, and we are on the second floor of our building, right on the corner with an unobstructed view of the eastern sky. We are steps away from the beach, which is very handy. A quick flight of steps and a boardwalk is all that stands between us and the sand. I could get used to living this close to the beach, but I'd rather live in a cottage instead of a condo. A cottage tucked away in the trees, where Hubby and I could relax after a day of running his beach umbrella service and my art shop. A cottage where Teen Angel could bring our grandchildren for visits and swims in the ocean. It's good to have dreams, isn't it?

Today was a day spent lounging on the beach and in the water. A blissfully lazy day followed by a great dinner of half price prime rib and seafood and a little shopping that yielded me a clearance rack sunhat that Teen Angel thought was hideous, BFF thought was cool and Hubby thought was cute. For $3.84 I don't have to fix my hair the rest of the week. Priceless.

Other highlights today?

-Breakfast on the balcony with the warm sun on my face and a breeze in my hair.
-The constant stream of butterflies fluttering past our beach umbrella.
-The fifty to sixty jellyfish that floated in a clump near the edge of the water.
-A sleepy toddler cradled protectively in her grandpa's arms.
-The hilarious man on the beach pretending to read but secretly stealing peeks at the well endowed woman nearby while his wife and mother-in-law sat beside him.
-The smooth charming southern accent of the young man who rented us our umbrella and chairs.
-A vintage military plane that swooped close to the water, right in front us, practicing loops.
-A circle rainbow that lingered for a good fifteen minutes overhead.
-Quiet, peaceful time with Hubby that wasn't interrupted by someone needing a hearing aid battery changed, a drive to the doctor's office or a meal fixed.
-Listening to Teen Angel and BFF giggle uncontrollably in the nearby room as the day winds to a close but their energy doesn't wane.
-A glass of iced tea to toast a good day.

The Sounds of Serenity

As the flashlights of children hunting for crabs on the beach cut the darkness, I hear the crashing of the ocean's waves against the sand. Their rhythmic sounds lull me into peace, and I draw a deep breath that smells of salt. The ocean is my salve for the stress of recent months, and I bathe in its healing properties. It is here that I will spend the next few days, refueling my soul and resting my brain. I can't wait to sleep with the window open and to forget about anything but the sound of waves. Constant, soothing waves.

Leavin' on A Jet Plane

In about thirty hours. The Hula-gen's and Teen Angel's BFF are headed to Destin, Florida for a long awaited and well needed vacation. I plan to wade the emerald waters.

Squeeze the sand between my toes.

And generally spend the next eight days lounging in the sun.

I have four library books packed in my bag, just waiting for me to crack their covers, and aside from making sure that Teen Angel and BFF aren't getting into any mischief, I won't have to take care of anyone. Not one single person. Sigh. I can't wait. I'll post a little here and there, but mostly I just plan on being lazy and soaking up my last chance at summer weather for the next few months. Oh, and brace yourself. I'm sure I won't be able to control my picture taking impulses around all of those gorgeous sunsets.

I'm leavin' on a jet plane Saturday morning. Don't know when I'll be back again. Oh, I love the beach so........

The Next Journey

All my peeps are home finally. Everything feels normal around here again. Those were some weary people I picked up at the airport yesterday evening. I thought I was going to have to get extra carts for their hind ends since their butts were dragging the ground. Hubby, Teen Angel, Sissy, Mama J. and Papa T. were all shuffling to the car with their last bit of energy. While Florida was nice, they were all glad to be home. And they came home with the knowlege that this was the last big trip we will take together.

Mama J. and Papa T. won't be going on any more vacations. It was just too hard on them this time. I think we all knew it by the second or third day of the trip, but no one mentioned it...then. It was the elephant in the room that no one wanted to talk about. When we took pictures at a cook-out Sunday night, we took them knowing it was the last vacation pictures we would probably take, but no one mentioned it...then. I had to brush away thoughts about those sick kids they take to Disney World before they die. Is this what those trips are like, I thought? Bittersweet because you know there won't be anymore?

It was exhausting just getting Mama J. and Papa T. to and from our destinations because of their medical problems. Mama J. is slow, really slow, even with her walker. And Papa T. can't see or hear his surroundings, so he has to have constant guidance, or we'll lose him in a crowd. We had to use wheelchairs and a golf cart at the airport to safely get them to their connecting flights in time. Neither one of them wants to use a wheelchair, especially Papa T., so we didn't even tell him we had one reserved until his fanny was six inches away from the darn thing. Otherwise, it would have been ugly, ugly, ugly much earlier in the day. We've been down that road once before. We felt bad about it but didn't know what else to do.

Papa T. had to have someone lead him around the rental house whenever he went to the bathroom or changed rooms because he couldn't see his way around the house. At home, he is familiar with his surroundings and knows how many steps are between rooms. In a different place, he is completely lost. Imagine living in a strange place for a week while wearing a blindfold and ear plugs. Just stop and think about what that must be like, relying on others to lead you around. It has to be very humbling. He stayed frustrated all week, and his frustrations exacerbated his dementia. The dementia is in such an early stage, though, he is cognizant of his confusion and sometimes jokes about it. On about day two, he told Sissy, "I don't know s**t from shinola". (Don't ask me what shinola is.) We all got a chuckle out of it because he was so sweetly funny, but unfortunately, he was right. About midway through the trip Papa T. turned the elephant loose and announced that this was his last vacation, that it was just too hard to travel, and he didn't want to do it anymore.

Mama J. stayed grouchy all week. Her legs were swollen, and she felt bad, but I think more than anything she was troubled by the realization that she can't travel long distances anymore either. She loves to go places and see new things. This is a hard pillow for her to choke down, and it was only at the end of the trip when she admitted that there would probably be no more big vacations for her.

I can't imagine how hard that must be to give up yet another freedom that comes with youth and/or good health. It's hard enough for the rest of us to accept that there will be no big trip out west in an RV so Papa T. can see the Grand Canyon. Or no more cruises with them in the Caribbean. A journey of another kind has begun, and it's not nearly as fun. As we have for the past nineteen years, we will make this journey together, experiencing new things, sharing some laughs and taking pictures...lots and lots of pictures.

Goodbye Sunshine

As I type this, I'm watching the sun set in a blazing array of pinks and purples. The sun is slowly sliding into the sparkling waves of the ocean, saying goodbye to another beautiful day. Today was priceless. I spent the day lounging on a quiet, small town beach with about six other people, all of them appearing to be residents of the area. Ten feet away a tree full of parrots sang me into a nap, while the local senior citizens club danced some polkas at a nearby pavilion. Just me, a book and tropical breezes mingling among the locals. It was bliss. I was the last to leave the beach, reluctantly giving up my corner of sand because I will not see the ocean again for a while. I fly home tomorrow afternoon because I have to get back to work to finish a big project. My family will stay two more days, and I am jealous of those two days. I am grateful, though, for the short time I had here this week. And I will say goodbye to the Sunshine State slowly. When I turn off the computer, I will slip outside to the dock behind this rental house and sit alone in the breezy dark, drinking in the nighttime sounds and smells. Yes, it's been a good day. Here's to many more....sometime...in....the...future....hopefully....soon.

Leapin' Lizards

Ah, sunny Florida. I love the tropics. I am completely at peace when sitting near the ocean. I love everything about it; the smell, the sound, the colors, even the taste of it. It gives me a special connection to nature like no other. It recharges my soul in a way that's hard to describe. Being near the ocean is more than a vacation. It's washing myself in a force that's so much greater than me and letting it absorb my worries.. I really needed this right now. The last month or so has been extremely stressful, and the ocean has been shouting my name.

I've been fortunate enough to spend a lot of time by the ocean and sample many beaches. I love the Caribbean and hope to visit there several more times before I kick the bucket. With any luck, I'll be sipping a margarita and combing the shores of St. Thomas when the good Lord reels me in. Of all the places I've visited so far, Aruba has been my favorite. I love the small town feel of that island, the friendliness of its people and the beauty of its beaches. I have dreams of living there one day. I couldn't find one thing wrong about that place...except for...the iguanas. I hate a lizard of any kind. I'm okay with bugs, mice and spiders, but I can't stand a lizard or snake. In Aruba iguanas are everywhere. Big iguanas. With aggressive attitudes and spikey tales. We walked down a dock one day, and I almosted peed my pants because I stumbled into the midst of about twenty of those things before I realized it. That's the day I almost walked on water. It wasn't a miracle. Just the fear of being on the same soil as a great big lizard. That fear has followed me to Florida, because among all the gorgeous sunsets, warm breezes and beautiful flora of Florida is a mess of lizards. Big lizards. Skinny lizards. Even lizards with chicken pox. Those fellas are everywhere I turn. I ran yesterday throughout this small coastal neighborhood where we're staying and jumped over half a dozen of them before I got back to the house. They're all over the backyard and (gasp!) in the sun porch of the house. I told myself to grow some courage, and about the time I began getting a little less nervous about them we looked out the front door and there was a big black snake...slithering through the front yard. And you know how I feel about snakes. (http://hulagirlatheart.blogspot.com/2007/08/ssssssstay-of-execution.html) This one was a foot and a half long. He was a big 'un. Now I'm afraid to walk through the yard. So I guess the lesson is that paradise is never perfect. And since I'm hoping for a little more paradise in my life in coming years, I'm going to have to get used to the critters that slither. Ya' think they allow rubber boots on the shores of St. Thomas?

The Friendly Skies

We are headed to Florida Friday for a few days of fun and sun. I’m looking forward to it, but I’m a little apprehensive, only because goofy stuff happens to us when we travel. It seems as if we rarely make it to our destination and back without a bump or two along the way. Twice we’ve battled lost luggage. The first time we flew to San Juan but Hubby’s clothes didn’t, leaving him to spend the first two days of a cruise in a gift shop swimsuit. He was mighty glad to see his underwear when it landed on the pier at St. Thomas. The second time Teen Angel’s suitcase didn’t follow us home from South Carolina, and we spent a frenzied 12 hours tracking it down and getting it shipped home in time for me to wash her clothes and pack them for camp the next day. When the suitcase arrived on our doorstep it had a big hole in the middle of it, and that started a whole new headache with Northwest Airlines trying to get the suitcase replaced. I finally got a new suitcase out of it but not without exhibiting some very unbecoming behaviors.

Illness is another favorite pastime of ours when traveling. We’ve thrown up in some beautiful corners of the world. Teen Angel heaved in the middle of the Magic Express shuttle bus at Disneyworld at 6am the day we left Orlando. That’s how we discovered she is a little susceptible to motion sickness. I too, discovered I get queasy on buses during an all day excursion through the rain forest in Martinique. We made seven stops that day to see the sights, and I threw up between all seven, thanks to a route called “zig zag road”. At each tourist stop I would get a gift sack, throw up in it during the ride and dispose of it at the next stop. I’m all about systems, you know. Fresh pineapple at the first stop? Noooo thanks. Rum sample at the third? Heck no! Isn’t the rain forest beautiful? I don’t know. All I’ve seen is the inside of a gift bag. See the volcano? Don’t bother me now. I’m focusing on breathing. Papa T. takes the prize for vacation illness. He had a bad reaction to his motion sickness patch on a cruise and started acting so odd we seriously thought he’d had a stroke. It took two days of craziness before we read the warning label for the patch and discovered he had six reasons not to use the darn thing. The minute we took it off, he returned to his old self and quit having nightmares about old girlfriends.

The weirdest thing that happened to us occurred at the Memphis Airport. We had only a few minutes between flights, and I barely had time to use the restroom. When I ran back to our gate, I found Hubby standing there with a priest and security. Well, this can’t be good, I said to myself. And how the heck did he get into trouble so fast? I was only gone for a minute, I thought. It turns out there was a wacky lady on our first flight that had smuggled a dog on the plane in her purse. Someone had complained about her, and for some reason she thought it was Hubby. The minute I had left for the restroom she had walked up to him, pulled her false teeth OUT of her mouth and launched into a wild toothless ramble in his face, waving her teeth in the air. Now, Hubby can’t stand strangers getting really close to him, and his patience could fit into a thimble, so it was with great restraint that he told her to put her *&!# teeth back in her head and to back up several steps. She didn’t listen very well. He alerted security, and the airlines launched an investigation onto the whole dog issue. The priest wasn’t a part of the action. He just stood around and watched because it was so entertaining. The rest of the trip home was uneventful, even though we were on pins and needles the whole time because the airlines let the crazy lady on that flight, too…with the dog in her purse. At least she kept her teeth in her mouth.

In a perverse way, I can’t wait for the adventure that’s in store for us this weekend. It does make things interesting. We’ve had more than our share of adventure over the years though, and a little “uneventfulness” would be nice. So if you see the Hula’s in the airport this weekend, just smile and wave and hope for the best. Oh, and keep your teeth in your mouth. We don’t want any trouble.