I need to tell you at this point that my mom had cataract surgery done earlier this year. You know those oversized sunglasses they give patients in circumstances like that? She saved hers. She graciously loaned them to me for this vacation. They fit over my prescription glasses, effectively hiding them so that you can't tell that I'm wearing two pair of glasses. They are every bit as sexy as you're thinking they are. I wore them all day in the van. Sam is fairly certain I'll be sitting down the beach from the rest of the family. I feel like Sid the Sloth in Ice Age. The outcast of the herd. But I can see, so I don't care. Vision is a beautiful thing indeed.
Anyhoo, we finally arrived at the beach, and we're already having a great time. The condo is gorgeous and very well appointed. They have the most fun complimentary activities scheduled throughout the week. The beach sand is like silk. And sitting on the beach and watching the sunset show off for us was a rare treat indeed.
We were chuckling as we were driving further and further into the South. The first "you know you're in the South" joke was being able to find a Southern Gospel song on the radio as you're seeking for something not filled with static. And the second laugh come while listening to the song. If you're going to sing with a Southern drawl, maybe you should avoid singing about Jesus' "nail scarred hands," because it's going to sound like "NASCAR hands," I had to think that through for a second before I realized what was realized said, because we ARE in the South, where NASCAR rules. It would also give all new meaning to the song, "Jesus, Take The Wheel."
But Hardees won the prize for "You Know You're In The South When...." They were sporting a sign that said, "Now Here! Fried Bologna and Velveeta Biscuits!" like it was a good thing. We're all about trying local fare when we're on vacation, because we're kind of foodies at heart, but we're just going to go ahead and steer clear of bologna and Velveeta biscuits. I'm sure they're fantastic, but we'll make a deal. If Yankees won't impose their nasty scrapple on Southerners, then Southerners can keep their fried bologna. And I'm kind of jealous that bologna is at least recognized as a luncheon meat, whereas scrapple is..... you don't even want to know. Seriously.
This evening, as we were sitting on the beach, the world showed off for us. The sunset was pink and orange, and a full double rainbow was opposite the setting sun over the ocean. Relaxing? Check.