We took a boat ride yesterday even though it wasn't a perfect boating day. PR and I took the boat down to the marina where we met Aunt B and Durwood, had lunch (all appetizers, so decadent), and then all 4 went for a boat ride around the inshore of the barrier islands, not out into the ocean but I can't have everything. The water we were in was part of the ocean and that was good enough for me. I loved being out in the wind and spray and sprinkles of rain. It was just perfect roaring and bouncing around out there. Thanks, PR. We passed a dive boat docked along the intracoastal and PR told Durwood that there're lots of shipwrecks around here. (Hmm, maybe I need to come during "diving" season, whenever that is. I'll tell Mrs. Boss, maybe she'll plan a trip.)
In between football games and before supper Aunt B and I took a little walk along their street so I got a closer look at the giraffe house. See, when I was out early yesterday I walked down to the end of the dock and looked back at the houses and the one a few down from here has a giraffe in the yard. A giraffe. Life-size. In the yard. Not a real one but still it took me a minute to tell. The house is for sale and the price just dropped so it's "only" 2.5 mil. I asked Durwood if we had enough in petty cash but he doesn't want the hassle of dealing with a giraffe. Party pooper. PR told me that the previous owner was a gambler, there's a door into a tunnel so that people could boat up and then sneak into the house for high stakes games, but they got raided, and people went to jail. Yikes.
They watched the game(s), unfortunately the Packer game wasn't broadcast here, but they managed to glut themselves on sport anyway. I knitted and listened to an audiobook. It worked out. We had steak and twice baked potatoes with broiled tomatoes for supper; it was deeeelicious, with apple tart for dessert. Yum.
Today I was out early enough to see the sun rise over the cloud bank but my laptop wasn't happy connecting to the net out there, but I did get pictures. I think if I had a deck and a view and weather like this I'd never be indoors, I'd just live out there.
October 14--Vincent van Gogh, Olive Trees. Centuries ago the olive trees were nothing but twigs shoved into the hollow of the rocky slope where the meager rain settled and the sun warmed the ground. Generations of the Okeanos family had worked to keep the trees alive until the fruit came in numbers enough to press oil. Golden olive oil flowed from the press, paid for donkeys, homes, and brides. Love was born in the fragrant shade and now death had come to shatter the peace of the grove. Nicky lay like a broken puppet, his black hair blending into the shadows, and his dark red blood soaking into the ever-thirsty soil.
Glad to see I haven't lost my touch. Another broken night's sleep but I figure I can sleep through the night when we get home. Breakfast's ready, time to sign off.