No mention of Fish...

I almost didn't write last night, but then I imagined your little faces when you're clicking on the blog address eager for your daily dose of new writing and finding only old writing. I couldn't disappoint you, so I wrote this:

The sun was finally setting. It had been an endless day. Susan couldn't figure out why the times when they had guests went so slowly and when it was just the two of them the days flew by. She supposed it was the constant go go go--grocery shopping at least once a day, trips to the beach for a swim or snorkel, visits to local museums and galleries to prove there was a bit of culture on the island, and the obligatory island tour to show off the miniature towns (villages really) filled with houses painted bright colors populated by nearly picturesque natives. Susan was almost relieved when a drunk reeled out of a bar in Antriol yesterday and staggered out into the path of their Rover. George had slammed on the brakes, cursing the man, but Susan was overtaken by a fit of the giggles at the thought that the drunk's presence proved once and for all that they weren't living in a tropical Disneyland.

You know, I was planting some mums yesterday afternoon out in the chilly wind and realized that only the day before it was nearly 90 degrees!! Three months from today Don and I will be basking in the Bonaire sun, and if she were still alive, today my mother-in-law would have been 99 years old. Happy birthday, Vi!

Enjoy your day.
--Barbara