Dear Kauaiian Diary

NOTE: I will be editing, spell checking, and filling in names, photos, and other details later on. :O) As for now, here's my personal notes to remember our visit.

Stay tuned...

Kaui Vacation 2008

Friday June 20:
Good flight from P. to Honolulu; probably the smoothest take-off and landing that I’ve ever experienced. Both kids were excellent on the plane ride. Chubber got a little grumy toward the end of the first 5 hour leg, but B. took him up and down the aisle a few times and it seemed to help a lot. The short, 30 minute, flight from Honolulu to Lihue was also very smooth, in spite of the fact that we were on a very small aircraft.
Rented a Chevrolet Impala SS (B’s choice), and was amazed that the trunk comfortably accomodated all of our luggage (1 large suitcase, 1 small suitcase, 1 wheeled carry on case, 2 backpacks, 1 large dive bag, 1 computer briefcase, 1 DVD carrying case, and a partridge in a pear tree).
Drove through the 'Tunnel of Trees'--a naturally formed tunnel made by gigantic trees that arch over the road--to Poipu (Po'ipu) to get to our lodgings. Found our condominium with minimal trouble (we got lost once). It is a beautiful condo with 2 bedrooms, small living room, dining area, kitchen, 2 bathrooms and laundry closet. From the front balcony porch and master bedroom we have stunning views of the ocean and the mountains. There is no a/c, however with the windows open the ‘trade winds’ blow a strongly enough that it keeps us cool and comfortable.
After settling in, we went to the pool and swam for an hour or so. The kids had a blast, and we had fun too. Interestingly enough we were talking to a man who was at the pool, and through our conversation we discovered that he lives in Ocala, FL and was born in Williston. What a small world! I explained to him that Aunt J lives in Williston, and that S comes from a town called Wacahoota (sp?) and whatnot. The man’s name was L. C., and after we left the pool and called Dad and S, we were able to discover that Mr. C did in fact know S’s family. Again, what are the odds of running into someone from such a small part of the world that we have ties with? I think the chances of winning the Lottery is more likely.
Had dinner at a place called ‘Breneke’s’ that B loved from his first time to Kaui. Nice little open air restaurant, rather spendy, but as we’re discovering: everything in Kaui is expensive.
After dinner walked over to Breneke beach, where as the Kids and I were walking to the playground we discovered a toad hopping in the grass. Kai and Lani both loved seeing him hope along, and I had a tough time keeping them from touching it (I figured it was poisonous like the frogs/toads in Florida). After a short 10 minutes or so at the play structure, we walked over to the surf to watch the sun go down. As we were walking along B and Chub came upon the tiniest of sand crabs—no bigger than a quarter’s diamater. We all had a pleasant walk, barefoot, in the surf and sand.
What a lovely first day in Kaui.

Saturday, June 21:
Woke up at 3am sharp. Wide awake and ready to start my day. Too bad we needed to sleep another 3 hours to make getting up decent. The kids suffered from jet-lag, too. Had a tough time getting them to go back down to bed (including a poop-on-the-floor incident (yuck!)), but eventually they conceeded to play quietly in their room.

Enjoyed a lovely sunrise from the front porch, followed by coffee and breakfast outside, too. Before the kids got up as I was going inside for a refill of my coffee I noticed something little on the carpet. I thought it was a dead, dried-out lizard, but when I got down close to look at it, it was a tiny little gecko! B was so surprised, as he’d never seen on so little before. Me, being who I am, told B to grab a cup from the kitchen so we could scoop the little thing up and show it to the kids. Both kids loved seeing the tiny creature. We let them each hold it in their hand. Even in the kids’ hands it looked tiny—it was about a ½ centimeter wide and maybe an inch and a half long. We’re having so much fun with all the wildlife here in the islands, an enjoying seeing the kids’ sense of wonder and their joy in the simplest of things. I imagine when they are asked what their favorite part about Hawaii was they’ll no doubt say: “the chickens, the baby gecko, and the frog!”
Started the morning searching for the elusive Foodmart that Mr. C told us about (best food prices in the vicinity). En route took a detour down a road to see a waterfall [find name of waterfall from photos taken]. While viewing the waterfall, saw an ancient Hawaiian [prayer sacrifice alter place]. The kids weren’t impressed with

either feature, but sure did have a blast chasing the wild chickens and their chicks. Tried to see { } arborateum, but the road into the actual facility was flooded, and was impassible in a car—though did see a few trucks ‘ford’ the road. The scenery was absolutely amazing. As we climbed up the road and into the lower mountains you could physically detect a change in climate: it changed from beachy type conditions into bonified jungle—humid, close, and about 10 degrees cooler. I am at a loss for words to actually do any justice to describing the lush vegetation. My photographs will have to do the talking.
Finally got round to Foodland. It was similar in prices to the Safeway or Roth’s stores on the mainland. Expensive, but in comparison to some of the closer local shops (Foodland was in W-I [check town name from map North of Lihue]. The local food shops listed a gallon of milk at over $8, whereas Foodland had it for $5. I picked up a ‘club card’ to get the ‘local’ prices. We left $103 lighter in the pocketbook, but I believe we have enough food for breakfast, lunch, and most dinners to eat at home. The cost of eating out is so expensive as to be prohibitive.

It is now 3:20pm, and we have finished our simple lunch of sandwiches, chips, grapes, and water. Well, all of us except Chubbers. Mr. Andersen has been asserting his “two-ness” to the Nth degree for the past week. As soon as he decides to eat ONE single grape, we will be off to Poipu beach. That is how I have time to write right now, Chub is being stubborn, and I’m taking advantage of the down-time. I do hope he decides to eat soon. I really want to go play at the beach!
Finally won. Chublet ate not only one, but two grapes! Went swimming at Brenneke beach. Came home, ate bbq burgers, rice and had chocolate ice cream. Went for a walk over to the Kaui Poipu Grand Hyatt. BEAUTIFUL grounds. Spent 2+ hours. Saw little girls do hula show.

Sunday June 22:
Going to try out church in HI. Interesting service, very contemporary and the kids loved going to the nursery.
Waimea Canyon—see pictures. Picnic in Waimea canyon (PS: don't you just love that guy's butt? Yeah. Me too. Makes it look so classy).

Went to Kaui Coffee Company tour, very cool. Learned a lot about coffee, including that 60% of the WORLD’S coffee comes from Kaui Coffee. Then went to the Salt Pond park, outside of Hanapepe. A lot of fun, full of locals. Big fat undertow, but nobody got swept out to sea.
Came back into town and had dinner at Poipu Beach Broiler—great food, expensive price. For two ‘bar menu’ dinners, one kids meal, an orange juice, and two Mai Tais (plus tip) we were out $50. OUCH!
Then a relaxing evening at home, as we were all bushed.

Monday June 23:
A relaxing day. Visited Kilohana (meaning: unsurpassed) Plantation. In its heyday it was the most expensive and extravagant home in all of Kauai. It was built in the 1930’s by sugar tycoon George Wilcox for his wife, who wanted a house as fancy as any that could be found in Hollywood. In its day 40,000 acres of sugarcane was planted and harvested by the 12 hour work day. Today, the estate is still run by family members but is only a fraction of that. They no longer harvest sugar cane (interesting fact about sugar cane: it takes one whole 6’ tall cane to produce only one tablespoon of sugar), but instead harvest fruits and plants for botanical spa products. We chose to tour the plantation via plantation train. Chub and Peanut loved it! It was a fun way to see a smidgen of what plantation life looked like ‘back in the day.’ To this day, some people who work on the plantation still live in the original plantation ‘shacks’ (small homes) that were used by the original workers.
Inside of Kilohana there is one room (living room) restored to its former lavish glory, with the remainder of the interior open to the public to enjoy: an expensive restaurant called Gaylord’s (think $25+ per plate), and various artisan shops selling Kauai made products.
After visiting Kilohana, we tried to find the Alakoko Menehune Fish Pond. Call us lame or crazy, we found a beautiful lookout point, but no success in actually finding the swimming area of the pond. So, we went, instead, to Nawiliwili Beach to play in the ocean and dig in the sand. It never ceases to amaze me just how content the children can be to simply dig in the sand. They can dig for 45 minutes or more without stopping. Our trip to the beach ended when mother nature decided it was time to water the vegetation (rain). But, that was OK since the kiddies were getting tired, us too.
After a morning at the beach and a nice nap for the kiddies we went to the condo’s pool to splash and play. It was absolutely delicious: the air was warm and humid and the pool was cool and refreshing. Sometimes it is just perfect to hang around ‘home.’




Tuesday June 24:
Went into Lihue to do some shopping. No visit to Hawaii, at least for our family, is complete without a trip to Hilo Hattie’s to get ripped off buying a Hawaii shirt. We spent about an hour or so looking around, and managed to find goodies to take home to family and friends as well as ‘outfits’ for each of us (at 40% discount, whoo hoo!) to wear for our evening’s festivities—a Luau!
Headed out to Wailua around 4pm to go to the requisite Luau. How can you possibly come to Hawaii and not go to a Luau? You can’t. So, we chose to check out the Smith Family Garden Luau. Interesting fact: by booking though ‘Activity Warehouse’ we saved about $130 on our Luau over booking through Smith’s itself. Weird, huh?
Smith’s Luau? Yes, Smith. I don’t suppose you could get any more English of a name if you tried, but we gave it a shot anyway. The grounds boast 30 acres of lush tropical gardens, ranging from local Hawaiian plant varieties to Japanese and Philippino. The gardens were spectacular, in a word. Once we were admitted to the grounds we hopped onto a little tram (think tractor pulling wagons with seats) to take us through the gardens with a narration of the plants. It was cool, because we got to learn a lot about different plant varieties, and I got to finally get a name to put to the most interesting plant that I find everywhere here: spider lilly. The kids loved the tram ride, well, because it was a ride and because they got to throw heaping handfulls of birdseed to the myriad of chickens and peacocks. Yep, peacocks. B’s favorite bird—we weren’t terribly impressed with the royal turkeys because of our old neighbor having them and us constantly finding them on our back porch, driveway, roof…. But, the kids sure got a kick out of them. We also were treated since it is mating season, the males had all their plumes fanned out to impress.
The dinner was good. We were seated next to a friendly single-mom family from California whom we talked to at length. She told us some of the tidbits about Kauai that she found helpful and was, in general, a lovely dinner companion. The food was good, although not as good as other Luau’s that we’ve been to (I rated it about a 6 out of 10 in comparaison to the Polynesian Cultural Center’s –-a 10+). There was macaroni salad, cucumber salad, green salad, sweet-n-sour mahi-mahi, Kahlua pig, bbq chicken, fried rice, mashed potatoes, mixed steamed veggies, and, of course, Poi. (blech! If you’ve never had it, think eating purple Elmer’s glue). Following this spread was a fruit/dessert table: mangoes, pineapple (all that Chubb would eat—nothing else), coconut milk jello, coconut white cake, and Peanut’s favorite: rice pudding. We also got to partake in AYCE mai-tais, but after one, I was sufficiently sugared out and turned to coffee.
The dinner show/hula show was decent. There were dances from Japan, China, Philippines, Fiji, New Zealand, Samoa, and Hawaii. Our favorite dances had to be the Fiji men’s and women’s dancing (the fast grass-skirt hip shaking dances—Hawaii’s hula dances do NOT involve grass skirts, that’s from Fiji). But the bes of all was the Samoan Fire Knife Dancing. It is always the best.
Peanut and Chub did pretty good through dinner and the show. Though, by 1/3 of the way through the dancing show Peanut was begging to go home and go ‘night-night.’ Chubbers was absolutely rivited to the dancing the whole show.
Both little kiddies crashed on the way home from the Luau. What a lovely way to end our day.

Wednesday June 25:
Headed out to the beach again, just this time we went to Lydgate Park, just south of Wailua on the East Coast of Kauai. What a great park! It was just perfect for the kids, and B and I managed (with children in innertubes in tow) to get in some snorkeling, too! We saw all sorts of fish, some of the fish we saw were: Unicorn Fish, Needle Fish, Moorish Idol, Eye-Stripe Surgeonfish, Saddleback Wrasse, Yellowfin Goatfish, Bandtailed Goatfish, Ornate Butterfly Fish, Longnosed Butterfly fish, Convict Tang, Seargeant Major, Blue Crevalle among others! Chub cried most of the time we snorkeled, Peanut loved it! She got such a kick out of being the ‘helper’ to hold the rocks and shells we found.
While in the kiddie area Chub-chub was the master of finding little blue crabs (about the size of a mini-bagel). He has the most amazing little eyes! I would likely have never spotted them, but he sure found them easily. It was fun watching this tiny little boy crawling around the rocks and where the breakers hit standing so still, only to discover he had found marine life all on his own.
B has been obsessed with going to this hamburger joint called ‘Bubba Burgers,’ so after leaving Lydgate park we finally indulged his obsession and went to have lunch at the place that touts that “We cheat tourists, drunks, and attorneys” on its sign (pretty creative, if not honest!). The burgers, drinks, fries, onion rings, and a t-shirt (for B) came to $47.50. Ouch! The food was OK, but nothing to write home about. But, at least B’s itch has been scratched.
Then, a quick trip to Foodland for provisions, and back to home. We are just loving the beach and the laid-back atmosphere here. This white girl is getting less white (think: I don’t look like like the milky-bluish color of skim anymore), and Brent…well, another few days and he will be as dark as a local. The kids? I’ve been doing well by them with the SPF 50 (they have a tiny bit of a tan, and no burn!).

Fear of Flying....

Long time no post. Yeah, yeah, yeah. My bad. Actually, I've wanted (a little) to post, but overall with the end of the work-year and all the wrapping up activities I've just been too lazy/tired/busy to post (select your excuse).

But, alas, here I am. Posting on a Thursday night. Nothing particularly special about this Thursday, except that in less than 24 hours I will be 'cruising at an altitude of 30,000 feet'.

YIKES!

I hate flying. I don't know why, or how but I have an irrational fear of flying. Not quite a phobia, but not too far off. I just don't like it. I keep hoping that they will invent the Star Trek transporter--for real! I'd just love it. I'd gladly play triple fare to go on the instantaneous transporter. You want to go to Korea? Sure. Push the button **whoomp!** you're there. That's what I keep hoping for. In the meantime, I'm left with good ol' fashioned jet propelled transportation. It is kind of ironic that I'm afraid of flying: I suffer from wanderlust, and truly, the two just don't jibe. Sometime in my early twenties I just had one flight where I suddenly felt my mortality stronger than I had ever felt it, and so began my dislike of aircraft.

Every flight for about the first 20 minutes I sit ramrod straight in my uncomfortable little seat, white-knuckling the armrests and praying, fervently, "please don't let us die, please don't let us, die, oh sweet Jesus, please make sure all of us get safely to our destination without incident or trouble..." and it begins again. It is really quite embarrassing to be the only one in my entire row who is near hyperventilating, and who breaks out in slick little beads of sweat at the first jostle of air turbulence. Yeah. That's me. Then, after that initial 'take-off' and things get to 'cruising altitude' I'm fine. Well, that is until it is time for our 'final descent'. Then, I begin to tense up again, begin my 'breath prayers' and pretty much sit petrified in a state of utter terror until we stop moving on the tarmac and arrive at our gate.

Tomorrow, I get to experience this lovely scenario. With children. Small. Squirmy. ADHD. Two Years Old. Children.

Lord, Help me.

I'm off to Kauai until the end of the month.

Wish me luck. Say a prayer for me (that I don't freak out and that the kids are at the very least better behaved than I am). I'll see if I can post some pictures and tell you the tale of how I survived my first family trip to Hawaii.

Aloha.

God Save the Queen

Our European vacation (pun intended) was quite the 'whirl.' We managed to cram in a tour of 9 countries. Being who I am, I would have liked to go to a few more, but time was against us. Our backpack tour included visiting these countries:

England

Belgium

France

Netherlands

Germany

Austria

Switzerland

Italy

and

Vatican City.

My, that is quite a list. It is really staggering, to me, to think that I've actually set foot in all of those places with their varied cultures and languages.

I have some good stories about the various places we went to, but I think that I'll let the pictures speak for themselves. Let's begin with England:

My, gotta love those Tube passes. They look like the Essex version of 'America's Most Wanted.'

I guess you're bound to look that way after foregoing sleep for a mere 36+ hours.

At the time, I thought these passes were so cool because they were an honest-to-goodness form of European identification.

Poor B.J., he looks like he's been on a 5 day meth bender.

And, what trip to England would be complete without a visit to good ol' Buckingham Palace? Geez, who is that? A fat Axl Rose? Gotta wonder what I was thinking taking that 'brain spider' (hat). I remember why I wore it--greasy hair! I thought the hat looked better than the four-day-unwashed hair. Hmmm...what would Stacey and Clinton say?

Big Ben vs. the Thumb

Tune in this Saturday to find out who will win this celebrity death match.

We had to visit the Hard Rock Cafe--the one in London is the original. I had wanted to visit this particular Hard Rock since I was about 7 years-old. The reason why I wanted to go there is because when I was about that age my brother went to England for an extended period of time, and when he came back he gave me a couple of souvenirs: a sweatshirt from Oxford University (no, he wasn't a student there...unless you count earning a degree in pub crawls), and a Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt. That was my most cherished t-shirt for the longest time, and it is one of the artifacts from my past that inspired my lifelong goal of going to Europe, so needless to say, it was reaching one of my life's major goals to be able to take the cheesy (there's that Axl Rose chick, again) picture in front of the shop.

Interesting fact: Stonehenge is made of stones from the Presley mountain range--200 miles away. Nobody knows how exactly the stones got to where they are, but there they are. Also, no matter the time of year, it is cold. The Stones themselves, also have different temperatures (touch) to them as well; some stones feel 'warm' while others feel 'cool.' And, they really do.

Why is it I always have to act like a jerk and make 'the face'? Do any of you ever feel compelled to make the face in pictures? For any reason?

For what it's worth, I don't know. Maybe it is an excuse to show off just how Gene Simmons-like my tongue is? (I can, in fact, touch my tongue to my nose. How's that for random trivia?)

At any rate the exchange rate was about $1.60 (us) to one Pound (British). Our money didn't go very far in England, so
if nothing else, the look on my face says it all: The U.K. is very expensive.

Goodbye to England and the white cliffs of Dover.

Jumping the Pond

As I've said, travel was to be a major part of the relationship that B.J.and I would have. After our initial trip to Florida we'd traveled around the state, and taken a fun week holiday to 'Fabulous Las Vegas', but, the best trip that we ever took (to date) was to spend nearly a month in Europe.

It had always been a dream of mine to be able to sight-see and experience a taste of life on the 'continent.' Ironically, B.J. never really thought about or cared to visit Europe. I never really thought it would be a reality (at least not in my impovershed youth), due to the expense of flying, quite literally, to the other side of the world. So, when the opportunity presented itself, I didn't waste any time mulling it over--I ran with it!

I remember it clearly: I was at University and it was right around the noon hour, and as usual, I was in the student union building. I generally did not take classes past noon (my circadian rhythm says it is nap time around 1pm, so taking classes meant I'd fall asleep in class. Very embarrassing.) but I had this one geology class that was only offered at like 2pm, which left me with approximately 3 hours to 'bum around' and study. Hence, my 'tenure' at the S.U.

Contained within the walls was of the EMU was the student travel agency. It was my habit to look in the windows whenever I went past. To this day, whenever I pass a travel agency I can't help but look at the specials advertised in the window and fantasize. This particular afternoon, while meandering aimlessly through the corridors with nothing in particular to do, I saw a flight and a price I could not refuse: Portland to Gatwick (London, UK) RT for $175.00.

No, that wasn't a type-o.

Even back then, people's eyebrows would meet their hairline in surprise over the price. I could hardly believe the good luck and the sheer economy of price, myself. I remeber, later that year, after our Europe trip, we flew to Florida on Southwest Airlines (gag!), and the tickets were about $100 more--just to fly from the West coast to the Southeast. It did (and does)boggle the mind.

Me, being a bit of a hedonist and eternally a shopper on the lookout for a good deal,hightailed myself into the travel agency, slapped my Visa card on the counter, and 15 minutes later walked away with two round-trip tickets to Europe and not a clue what else I'd do with them.

It was so much fun telling B.J.about my executive decision that we'd be going to Europe in March (this was at about the end of January,2000). He blanched (slightly) at the thought of the trans-Atlantic flight, but soon settled into the idea and joined in on my manic mood.

The flight was one of the worst I'd ever been on. I can remember flying out of Portland and watching the overhead storage bins sway alarmingly to and fro (with about a 8-10" arc of motion) and being convinced that the next bump of turbulence wouldn't end in just a mere 300' drop, but a 'final descent.' I just knew we were going to die. The terror of the terrible take-off ended about 45 minutes into the flight. It was the longest stretch of 'turbulence' that I'd ever endured (or hope to endure). Our connecting flight from Newark, N.J. to Gatwick was much more smooth, and the armrests of my particular seat, upon deplaning, did not show any evidence of my having occupied it--there were not, thankfully, 10 crescent shaped depressions from my white-knuckling it through the flight--as there were on the first leg.

Thirty hours and about 6,000 miles later we touched down: Europe.

My dream had become our reality.

Some of my Favorite Things: Favorite Pool in the US

This is my favorite pool. In fact, this pool is one of my all-time favorite places in the entire United States.

This is Coral Gables Venetian Pool. I count some of my happiest memories as a child as coming from spending time with my mom and my grandmother at Venetian Pool.

There is quite a lot of history to this beautiful place. For my family there are at least 3 generations worth of history at this pool. My grandmother took my mother and her siblings as children to swim. And, if I could dig through family photos and find them, there are pictures showing that I was brought her as a little girl to swim, too.

I always loved coming here. It was so refreshing, and, in some instances, downright cold to swim in the clear spring-fed waters. I loved to swim with my grandma into the 'grotto' and under the water into the caves that were formed from the native coral rock that is everywhere in Miami.

Thinking of Venetian Pool, I can't help but remember stories of my mother and her siblings playing in the water here. One story in particular always springs to mind: When my Aunt J. was about 3 years old she managed to climb to the top of the rock cliff all by herself, and jumped off. Yep, they said even though J. couldn't swim a stroke, she took a flying leap off of the 25' high cliff and landed in the water. Luckily people jumped in right away and pulled her out of the water before she drowned. Nobody could believe she did it, and they were never able to figure out just why she decided to jump off. All of this took place in the mid 1940's.

I am so glad to see that this pool is on the national registry of historical places. It gives me peace of mind that such a treasure in the 'Gables will be preserved for many generations to come. I look forward to someday being able to take my own children to swim at Venetian Pool, to continue the legacy that was left to me by my mother and my grandmother.

This post is dedicated to you, Grammy and Nana. I miss and love you both. Thank you for giving me such good memories and for all the good times playing at the pool (and the beach!). I will never forget.

Inseperable

After our first date, B.J. and I were nearly inseparable. That, dear ones, resulted in majorly ticked-off friends. To be precise, my friends were angry as hornets that I was spending so much time with B.J. Funny how that happens, especially since it was those friends who so forcefully pushed me to go out with B. J. Guess it is true: be careful of what you wish for, because you just may get it.

Angry (jealous) friends aside, B.J. and I really hit it off. We found we had a lot of things in common: movies, music (to a lesser extent, I never could enjoy the twangy country music he liked), going to the coast, shopping. Yes, you read that correctly, B.J. likes to shop . (Yes, I heard angels singing, too.)

We spent nearly every weekend driving over to the coast. B.J. and I enjoyed lots of dinners and lunches at little mom & pop dives, long walks on the beach collecting shells, interesting rocks, random detritus, and countless hours driving to nowhere in particular.

::sigh:: I miss those carefree days every once in a while.

Those certainly were the days. It really set into motion a theme of travel in our relationship.

Three months into our relationship we took our first long-distance trip together. We flew to Florida for two weeks. The trip was to celebrate me (amazingly) completing of high-school. It was such a wild and exhausting (in a good way) trip. I can hardly believe that my parents consented to letting me do it, but they did. Will I be such a cool parent? Lemme think about that...NO!

I remember the green Chevy Blazer that we rented, and the fact that I was not even remotely old enough to legally drive it. We drove from north-central Florida to Key West and back on that trip. I can't say I didn't enjoy myself the whole time. How could I not? Eighteen years old, cute boyfriend, and on a wild and crazy road-trip up and down the sunshine state. Life was good.

Our trip included visiting my family (currently, my entire family resides in Florida), driving on the sand in Daytona, going to Disney World, Miami Beach, and the Keys.

Disney World was, as to be expected, very diverting. I don't believe I ever remember my feet hurting so much before (or since!) from walking. We spent 3 days at Disney, walking here, there, and everywhere. I can remember after the second day my feet hurt so bad that to get to the bathroom from our bed I crawled across the hotel floor to get there. That was certainly a first. Generally one thinks of crawling to the bathroom to, uh, worship the 'porcelain god' after a rough night, not after a day of truly innocent fun.

B.J. and I probably had some of the most fun moments cruising around Key West on rented scooters. If you ever have an opportunity to go to Key West, go. Be sure to check out the cemeteries there. Key Westerners are known for being unique and their tombstones are no exception. Hands down, one of the best headstones I saw read something to the effect of "...at least I know where he'll be tonight."

Before our trip together, B.J. had never spent any real time in Florida, so when a typical southern Florida storm rolled in on our last day in the Keys he was blown away. In south Florida, it isn't uncommon to have beautiful calm, blue skies in the morning, and within minutes black stormy clouds rolling in, blackening the day to night. That is exactly what had happened to us.

We chose to stay in a floating hotel while we were in the keys--an old boat that had been converted to hotel rooms--and that last morning it was sunny, blue, and beautiful. By the time we had gotten out of the shower the wind had picked up, and black thunder clouds had begun to roll in at an alarmingly fast pace. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but since we were in the islands, if there was a truly big storm the problem about leaving becomes this: there is only a single little 2-lane South Dixie Highway that leads in and out of the islands. Meaning, when serious storms hit, if you don't leave immediately you ain't gonna leave. Since we were staying in a floating hotel, we decided it would be best to head out sooner rather than later. B.J. was terrified. The storm was getting progressively worse. In the space of about 20 minutes we had gone from sunny and clear to pitch-black--at 8 o'clock in the morning--with sheeting rain and 40+ mph. gusts of wind.

Welcome to paradise. There will be no cheeseburgers served today.

We packed up and headed north, to Miami. In the end, the storm wound up nothing more than a typical tropical squall. Nothing out of the ordinary. The storm managed to blow itself out by 3pm that day. Some days, up here, I miss those storms a lot. I certainly miss the fact that in Florida, when it rains, it rains. Then the storm is over. The rain is done. Up here it rains, and drizzles, and mists, and pours, and rains some more. For days on end. Very slow. Very soggy. Very much we can't do anything. (I am clearly not a true north westerner...doubt I ever will be. In fact, I always carry and use an umbrella.)

This trip was just the first of many that B.J. and I would embark on during our 'courtship' years.