Edisto Island
The cats were happy to see us come home, and we were happy to see them, up until about 4:00 AM, when, having forgotten the usual schedule, they attempted to get us to feed them. (Don't worry, cat lovers, they're still alive. I do have some plans for tomorrow morning, however.)
Knitting Content: I've been working on "Margaret Tudor," and I've been working on "Queen Anne's Lace," and I'm tired of them. After I arrived home, and unpacked the car, and unpacked the bags, and put the food away, and started the laundry, and cooked dinner, I wandered around looking at unstarted sweaters. I like the ones I've got on the needles, but I need something quick and mindless. And I don't think I feel like doing socks. So your next knitting pictures might be something totally different.
But the pictures today, now that we're at the computer that has the correct software installed, concern Edisto Island. Sam's family has been going to Edisto Island in the summer for about 40 years now. I think 40 years. Just a minute...Nope, I was wrong. Sam says it's 75 years. I'm glad to have gotten dragged along into this tradition. Edisto's not trendy, like Myrtle Beach. It's quiet.
Here's our new rented house -- much bigger than the one we've been in! Lots more room for children to run around! Not on the beach! Notice the absolute absence of dangerous ocean at the foot of the stairs, which was the main feature of the last beach house:
Yeah, yeah, yeah -- I'm well aware of the Dangerous Street, which has replaced the Dangerous Ocean. My life's not about logic, though. I FEEL safer in this house. Therefore, we are.
Here, a view of some of the island wild life, in the form of pelicans flying over:
Some of the beloveds playing safely (well, safely till the tidal wave hits) OUT of the water, which is where Nature intends us to stay -- this shot includes two brothers, a nephew, an uncle, a father, and a son (do try to figure this out -- I'll be impressed if you get it):
And here's why I don't sit and watch the child; notice that he is standing in the edge of a giant graveyard:
He is very small, as are all the humans. Too small to go in that damn water. Too bad for his mom that he's most truly himself in the water. Alas.
I love the ocean, I truly do. I just don't want anybody actually IN it.
Knitting Content: I've been working on "Margaret Tudor," and I've been working on "Queen Anne's Lace," and I'm tired of them. After I arrived home, and unpacked the car, and unpacked the bags, and put the food away, and started the laundry, and cooked dinner, I wandered around looking at unstarted sweaters. I like the ones I've got on the needles, but I need something quick and mindless. And I don't think I feel like doing socks. So your next knitting pictures might be something totally different.
But the pictures today, now that we're at the computer that has the correct software installed, concern Edisto Island. Sam's family has been going to Edisto Island in the summer for about 40 years now. I think 40 years. Just a minute...Nope, I was wrong. Sam says it's 75 years. I'm glad to have gotten dragged along into this tradition. Edisto's not trendy, like Myrtle Beach. It's quiet.
Here's our new rented house -- much bigger than the one we've been in! Lots more room for children to run around! Not on the beach! Notice the absolute absence of dangerous ocean at the foot of the stairs, which was the main feature of the last beach house:
Yeah, yeah, yeah -- I'm well aware of the Dangerous Street, which has replaced the Dangerous Ocean. My life's not about logic, though. I FEEL safer in this house. Therefore, we are.
Here, a view of some of the island wild life, in the form of pelicans flying over:
Some of the beloveds playing safely (well, safely till the tidal wave hits) OUT of the water, which is where Nature intends us to stay -- this shot includes two brothers, a nephew, an uncle, a father, and a son (do try to figure this out -- I'll be impressed if you get it):
And here's why I don't sit and watch the child; notice that he is standing in the edge of a giant graveyard:
He is very small, as are all the humans. Too small to go in that damn water. Too bad for his mom that he's most truly himself in the water. Alas.
I love the ocean, I truly do. I just don't want anybody actually IN it.
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