My Grandson Meme - Caption Contest!

This is our grandson, Levi. My stepson Timmy and his wife Kelly brought Levi with them on a visit to Tallahassee. We had a wonderful time showing them around and we even took Levi on his first boat ride ever!

Here he is, on the boat with Mommy and ready for some action. He's always pointing with the one finger and we couldn't understand what it meant. But will you look at the expression on his face?

I've decided to create a meme and capture the moment. This is what I think is being conveyed here.

Please join me for this caption contest. Simply provide yours in the comments below. The prize? An opportunity to post about your work in progress, an upcoming release, or a guest article here at Are We There Yet? I know, I know! Don't get all excited there. [insert sarcastic emoticon here]

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Photo Story - My Vacation in the Bahamas

We're back!


Just a brief lesson to you about traveling outside the United States -- You will be roaming the entire time!

I didn't realize how much I would miss my texting and being able to instantly send photos to friends and family. But, at least now I am able to share a little of the Bahamas with you, because my character of the day is Miss Eloise. Well, that's what I'm calling her as I didn't get permission to use her real name because I didn't know I was going to blog about her until just now. No, really. I didn't.

Miss Eloise is an 82 year old Bahamian woman who has lived her entire life in Georgetown, Bahamas, which is where we stayed (at the Sandals Emerald Bay resort). It's a place I will recommend to anyone planning to make that trip. It's the most popular resort in Georgetown according to our guide, Miss Eloise.

View from our room

When she first loaded us up into her large SUV at the airport and before she proceeded forward toward the resort, she paused and said in her thick Bahamian accent, "Welcome to the Bahamas." Her voice was crackled with age, but she seemed well animated and passionate about her country. It was dark out, so I couldn't see her well enough to tell her age, but the shaking in her voice gave me a little hesitation and I was honestly hoping she wouldn't keel over while driving us to the resort.

She didn't keel over. We made it!

She gave us each a business card with the name and number to her taxi services. We wouldn't pull this card out until the last full day we were to stay on this beautiful island. When we called her, she was delighted to pick us up and take us out to the docks where we would ride in a water taxi to Stocking Island, but first she showed us around the surrounding areas and gave us a little history of the place.

Miss Eloise's accent was so beautiful, and with the age and wisdom in her voice, I felt mesmerized. It was like I was in a movie and the narrator was right beside me walking me through it. Then I realized I wouldn't have wanted anyone else narrating but her.

A small, brown snake slithered between two planks on the walkway leading toward the ancient tombs we'd come to witness. I stopped, "Is it safe to go back there?"

"It's okay, darling." Her accent strung out the word darling and it reminded me of Eva Gabor in Green Acres. "Those snakes won't harm you."

They didn't harm us, but they were everywhere. Even one popped out of a stony piece of ruin at the base of the tombs. I'm not lying. I have the picture to prove it. See, I knew you might question me on this. I was close enough to get some detail.

They should have named the place Tomb of the Snakes!

When we were finished touring the area of Georgetown, Miss Eloise drove us to the water taxis and called out to a large Bahamian man, "Elvis, darling! Take my friends to the island, will you man." And he did. He asked what time to pick us up and we told him around 3:00 p.m. because it was only 10:00 a.m. and we wanted to enjoy all the stuff there was to do and discover on Stocking Island. Then he nodded and left.

Let me share this with you. Stocking Island isn't like the boardwalk of things to do like we have in the States. When you go to an attraction here in the US, there are actually things that "attract" you as in things to do. Remember this, because the only thing to do on Stocking Island is hang out at the Chat n' Chill…when it's open, which it was not.

Stranded with nothing to do!

I think everything would have been fine had we arrived when the place was open. It was as if we were on a deserted island, only there was an audience to watch us as we wandered around in awe that we had absolutely not a thing to do. Yes, there were sailboats anchored in the water, EVERYWHERE! And there were probably people on those boats laughing their asses off at the only two people on the entire island, looking dumbfounded as we certainly felt.

However, no worries! After about an hour of wandering around, we went back to the Chat n' Chill and thank the heavens above there was a boat and some people unloading supplies of food and beer and marching them up the beach and into the small building that is the Chat n' Chill.

Nothing to do but take photos

"Excuse me, but what time do you open?" Tim asked one of the unloaders.

"Eleven O'clock," the kid offered as he marched up the steps.

I looked at my watch. Yes! It was 11:15 a.m. so we went inside and got a Diet Coke. When I asked about food, the bartender told me the kitchen wasn't open yet and they needed another hour to prepare. So, there were two things to do at that moment. Hang out with my husband in the Chat n' Chill and drink a Diet Coke. Ain't that fancy. You know me. I didn't care that it was before noon.

"Bartender? I think I'll have a Kalik Light." If there's one thing I know how to do when there's nothing else around is have a good time.

And finally, to drink some Bahamian beer...

Cheers!

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Rainy Day Blog Chain - Absolute Write

This month's prompt:
Rainy Days - by Absolute Write

Write wherever the prompt inspires you. It can be fiction or non-fiction, all wet or high and dry, mushy mud or hard-packed earth. If you want to go with snow, hail, boiling hellrain, biblical frograin, or some other kind of precipitation, knock yourself out. So, here's mine:

We’d decided to drive to St. Mark’s, get out on the water for a bit, and enjoy the salty breeze along the banks of the Lighthouse. When we arrived, some fishermen were assessing the sky. We could see some grayness on the horizon, but far enough away it didn’t bother me. No different than what we’re used to here in Tallahassee, Florida.

I removed my Oakleys and said, “So, what do you think?”

“I don’t know. I think we should consider a rain check.” He always sides with caution.

I tried not to show my disappointment, but my voice sounded a bit whiny, even to me, “We always do this. Come out, it’s gray, we head home, and it clears up.” I felt his eyes on me while I studied the late summer sky.

The Shell Point Fish Camp deckhands had our boat tied to the docks, awaiting our arrival an hour beforehand. I felt bad that we’d be telling them to put it back in storage. Thanks for nothing, right?

I heard Tim sigh. Then he said, “Fine, we’ll take her out for an hour. But first sign of bad weather, we head back.”

I agreed and gave him a huge hug.

We climbed into our maroon and white Q4 run-a-bout and took off. The water was smooth as glass, but I expected to reach the saltier mass and all its choppiness soon enough.

Two miles out, Tim pulled to the left of the channel, dropped an anchor into the 8-foot deep water, and retrieved a beer from the cooler. I baited one of the fishing poles we keep stored on the boat and then heard a mumbled curse. Before I could cast my rod, Tim was readying the boat for take-off.

"Let's bring her in."

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t see that?” Tim pointed to the east. What I saw looked like an innocent hazy mist, but only for a few seconds. The encroaching wall of rain moved closer at a pretty quick speed and whirring winds and splatters of dime-sized raindrops hit us like a freight train.

Immediately we both moved to grab the aluminum poles used to frame up the waterproof, cloth cabin roof. Tim unzipped the compartment to unleash the cover and the wind pulled it from the opening and whipped it into the open air.

“Hurry up! I can’t hold this side up much longer!” I yelled into the wind, but I knew he couldn’t hear me. He was trying to screw in the bolt to hold up the opposite end. The aluminum pole wasn’t heavy, but the wind blew with such force I was losing stamina fast.

Then the lightning started. I saw the electrical bolts strike next to the boat and my stupid ass was holding up an aluminum pole. “Fuck this shit!”

I let go because we were both soaked to the bone and neither one of us wanted to become a conduit for the electrical frenzy happening so close by. Tim gave me a look that told me if we weren’t getting ready to die, he’d kill me for talking him into taking the boat out. I didn’t care. If I was going to die, I wanted to say goodbye to my friends and family.

I grabbed my blackberry and huddled under the partial dashboard to keep my phone dry. The boat rocked violently in the storm while I posted my status to Facebook, “If we get out of this alive, I promise, God, I will never go out on the water when the sky is gray!” Then I cursed myself for being Agnostic.

The lightning bolts crackled down into the body of water around us while Tim navigated the boat back toward the inlet at a creeping 10 miles per hour. All the while he was steering, he held onto his hat as the wind beat into his face. The sky had gotten so dark, but I could see the frown lines between his brows and along his mouth when the lightning flashed and lit up the area.

By the time we docked the boat, the storm had passed. Our bruised egos kept us from speaking to one another. We drove home in silence and it was killing me. So I spoke up.

“That was some Gilligan’s Island shit, huh?”

After a brief moment, we both laughed. We stopped at a local pub and ordered a pitcher of ice cold beer. Life was good.

Check out the other participating Rainy Day bloggers!

orion_mk3
Bogna
Ralph Pines
Nissie
pyrosama You are HERE!
Lyra Jean
Domoviye
magicmint
areteus
julzperri
hillaryjacques
AFord
randi.lee
J. W. Alden 
SuzanneSeese 
Tomspy77
ronbwriting - (link to this month's post)