I'm wondering if I should have left last weekend so I'd remember what a great holiday I've had, instead of this restless "What can I do today" feeling. The place where I'm staying is a madhouse once again. The woman talks non-stop, stream-of-consciousness stuff regardless of whether someone else is having a conversation or writing email or whatever. Plus, she doesn't work so she's around the house ALL THE TIME. Oh and she's a boozer (a really bad one) and has these fits of jealousy about this or that woman chasing her boyfriend. Then there's the boyfriend's 8 year old daughter who is extremely smart and cute and high-maintenance although no one seems to remember to feed her until about 9pm and she's doing her homework until all hours of the night. As soon as I'm home, I'll write an entire post about how I landed in this bizarre and unexpected situation. All I can say is the phrase "being sold Florida swamp land" isn't restricted to purchasing real estate - it can also be about renting.

Honeymoon Island Beach day! It was 55 degrees in the morning but it quickly warmed up to a beautiful 78 so I didn't head out until around 11am. The wind is still from the north so I had a quick ride to the beach with lots of bumps from where I put in off the causeway.
There was a sea cucumber washed up on the beach where I landed. at least I think it was a sea cucumber - I've only ever seen one, translucent grey in a milky broth in a restaurant in Hong Kong. This one was pink and gelatinous and was definitely a relative of some sort. Actually, along the beach I could see other pink lumps being examined by curious beach people.
Later, at home, I mentioned it to Bob and he said there are a lot of boats that go along dragging their anchors, carelessly dredging up all kinds of sea creatures. He thought this was probably one of those situations and the carcasses were washed up on shore. Seems very likely that was the case.

I lay on the beach reading my book for a couple of hours, trying to even out my tan (impossible). By then I was bored so I packed my gear and paddled up to the western end of the island before heading back to my truck. It was so nice there that I got the board down and paddled around for an hour or so. By then it was 4pm. My skin was feeling tight from too much sun, I was hungry, thirsty and tired. I headed home, stopping at Paneras for a sandwich & B21 for a bottle of Pinot.
Jeanie had pulled some art supplies out for Katrina who was painting at the kitchen island. I headed to the porch, hoping for a quiet read. No luck. Jeanie wanted to talk about some woman who was calling all the time, trying to steal her man and, randomly, wanted to borrow $20 for gas. I tried deflecting but she was relentless and I eventually had to just put the book down and make appropriate noises. mmhm, oh dear, really?, too bad.
As the sun set, a truck drove by the corner and a man inside yelled something. Jeanie waved and yelled hi so the truck reversed and pulled up at the end of the yard. She went over to talk and was tied up for about 10 minutes, enoough time to get through some solid pages of my book. Did she know him? As it turns out, not really, but she had told him about her "bed & breakfast" while drunk somewhere. But he was a chatty older man, wanted to know if he could drop by sometime with a bottle of wine, why yes, he might be interested in renting a room. I'm rolling my eyes even now. sheesh. Crazy town.