After much agonizing and whining, I booked a vacation. So yes, Fringeland moved south for a week, and I’m now back on the terrace. This will be the first of several posts about, and pictures of, our trip. I didn’t post about it beforehand because of weirdness. First of all, it had been so long since we took a vacation, all I did was stress about it. Second, right after we booked it, obviously, the girl started to not do so well, so…more stress. Packing up for a road trip to a beach break is simple, right? A few bikinis, a few towels, comfy traveling clothes, and you’re done. Not in Fringeland. We don’t go out often, and we vacation much less often, so when we’re away, I like to have some nice clothes for going out, and all the makeup I generally don’t wear, and the hair dryer and the straightening iron that I don’t end up using, and no less than four anti-frizz products to keep my hair weighed down in the humidity and breezes. Then there’s an entire small suitcase of meds for Husband and the girl. Yes, I want the comfy traveling clothes, but I also want to look decent, just in case. My version of “wear good underwear in case you get into an accident” is wear decent clothes in case the car breaks down, or someone gets sick and I end up needing to meet strange doctors in a strange hospital, or or or. See what I mean? Stress! Sure it’s self inflicted, but I can’t help it, goes with the whole vivid imagination thing. And maybe a dash of experience.
Man Child wasn’t able to come with us, but we were still a crowded vehicle; me, Husband, Art Child, Nerd Child, one of my godsons (Mr Goodheart), Mother-In-Law, and all our assorted crapola. We didn’t bring Little Incredibly Dumb Dog, because I didn’t book said vacation early enough, and all the affordable places within walking distance to the beach that were pet friendly were booked. A huge, huge thank you to El Fab for taking care of my little beast, the container garden, AND the tank. I literally took thousands of pictures while we were gone, it’s going to take a bit to sort through them all. My intention was to blog and post pics while away, but once we were there, I just didn’t want to. Sorry! So I’ll break up my pics and stories into a few posts, and put them up here as I sort them. In other words, warning: the next few Mrs Fringe posts will be photo intensive. Maybe by the time I’ve finished I’ll have stopped sobbing because I want to go back and stay there–but I doubt it!
While on the road, we always stay in low-budget motels, whenever/wherever we are when we just have to crash. Gives us a little more leeway while we’re actually at our destination, and it seems like a waste of funds to spend more on a room you’re literally only going to sleep in. On the way down, we stayed in what must have been the worst (though not the least expensive) motel we’ve ever stayed in. The manager was friendly and chatty, though. He generously offered to give me a tea bag from his personal kitchen, asked Husband “is that a Mexican name?” (all Latino names = Mexican, right? sometimes, and sometimes Dominican, Spaniard, Puerto Rican, South American…), and while I was telling our crew to get out of the car and unload, he proceeded to tell Husband about the woman who had walked in behind us–as she was standing there–how she asked to see a room, used the bathroom while she was in said “clean” room, and was menstruating and now he had to clean up blood. Thanks for sharing a bit of your life, buddy!
And now, pics from this too-grossly-funny to be believed motel, and the first morning on the beach.
Pets were allowed
Anyone care for a yellow, crusty washcloth? I bet no one steals their linens.
Yesssss, going over the bridge to the island.
I wouldn’t mind one of these.
Even looks like a sigh of relief.
Though the island is only about 13 hours from where we live, and we planned to break it up into two days of traveling, we hit every traffic jam possible (seriously–at our first coffee and pee break, we tried to get back on the highway and it was completely shut down because of an accident) and so didn’t arrive until early evening of the second day.
I could spend all day looking at these live oaks, truly magnificent.
Even in road trip stupor, it’s impossible to get a bad shot of this sky.
And now, the first sunrise. I was a bit late getting out there, but still caught some pretty shots.
The dunes are protected and respected.
Put your toes in, even at 6am the water is warm.
My little posing friend.
Still wondering why I’m sobbing about having to leave?
Why go home when you can pass out right on the beach, errr, watch the sunrise?
These seemed to be a beach/sand morning glory. Each morning at sunrise the buds were closed, by the time I came back out at 9am or so they were open.
Thanks for the morning welcome song!