There are dolphins in this picture. You just can’t see them because every time I clicked the shutter, they dove below the surface. Even when I got exasperated and clicked at random where I knew the wily sea-going mammals were lurking, they knew to stay hidden, meaning they are exceptionally smart, keen of hearing and possibly Amish.
Today is Day 7 of our vacation and also our 16th wedding anniversary. Both the seven days and the 16 years have flown by at an astounding clip, which is what happens when you’re in excellent company. If you want to live forever (or at least seem to), spend your time with someone who lacks humor and is unsympathetic to your interests and concerns, is my advice.
Our little vacation cabin is quite rustic: The floors, ceiling, walls and doors are all made of the same dark wood paneling, making it comically difficult for near-sighted people to find their way out of a closed room. I’m guessing the half-dozen or so cabins on this property were built in the 1950s.
The proprietor, who is elusive to the point of non-existence, encased the A/C thermostat in a locked plexiglass box, so we cannot adjust the temperature, which is set at 76 degrees. It feels good during the heat of the day but necessitates blankets at night.
We had the property mostly to ourselves until yesterday. A German family has taken up residence a couple of doors down. The men are avid fishermen. Their luck is equal to my husband’s so far, i.e., none.
I’ve been keeping to the shade on the porch, watching others fish, reading and playing the ukelele very badly. The Germans have an adolescent daughter who has shown some interest in my crappy little uke.
If they’re still here when we leave on Sunday, I may make her a present of it, even though I’m pretty attached to it. Maybe someday she’ll remember that an old Floridian lady was kind to her. I don’t know — what do you think? The parents might hate my guts for it if the kid plinks away at it 24/7, but I’ll be long gone by then…