Photo essay of a great vacation

This morning, as the sun was teasing, I jumped out of bed, threw on my bathing suit, grabbed my camera, and ran as fast as these tired legs could carry me to the beach. I was too late. Sol beat me to it. He laughed at my effort, me huffing and puffing, and him languishing on the gulf’s far edge, burning a hole in the few stratus clouds remaining. It was going to be another beautiful day on St. George Island, Florida.

I’ve been waiting for this vacation since March, and now, at the end of July and near the end of our week’s stay here on what is sometimes called “The Forgotten Coast” I’m trying to cram as much vacation into my vacation as I can. Maybe that’s why I had one too many Guinnesses just before that glass of wine last night.

Look up Creature of Habit in the dictionary and it’ll say “see Artie.” My habits are strong and deep. The thing about vacation time is that I get a chance to break the chain. It opens up new possibilities and is cause for great relaxation at times when there normally could be none. But some habits cannot be so easily schmoozed. I still gotta have my beer around 5:00PM. Earlier this week though, like 4, or 3:00, or noon. And I still have to have a photo magazine in the bathroom. Oops. Too much info.

Connie and I left Nashville last Sunday, the 22nd. The flight to Atlanta was mundane. Our connecting flight to Talahassee, however, was a rollicking roller coaster ride on the order of Scare You to Death, over and over and over again. At the end of that leg of our journey Connie informed the stewardess that was the worst flight she’d ever had. The stewardess answered dryly that it does take some getting used to. SOME getting used to? The imprints of my wife’s nails in my forearm are just now beginning to heal.

I love the drive from Talahassee down to St. George Island. It takes just over an hour but I guess because we’re in Florida now the difference between it and Tennessee jump-starts the newness of the trip. Florida pines, palms and familiar signs from small towns go by as we crane our necks ogling the coast as it goes in and out of view. There’s a gull. There’s a tern. Oops. There’s a real turn I’d better negotiate or there ain’t gonna be no vacation.

We got to the rental office around 2:30PM. Connie signed in while I went to the other end of the office to look at some great photos on the wall. In that next room there was a table set up with small demi-cups, a slow cooker, and a nice woman doling out samples of gumbo from a local restaurant. Trying to drum up business, I guess. I took her offering and tasted. Mmm. Very nice. And a big shrimp in there to boot. I complimented her on the dish and she intorduced me to Chef Eddie, owner and chef of the Magnolia Grill in Apalachacola, just over the causeway from the island. They had hand-out menus so I took one to check it out. Hmm, I thought. Pretty fair offerings. “Hey honey, we ought to try this place. Oh, this is Chef Eddie.” Nice guy. From Boston with a big fat New England accent. We took our keys and went to the house.

There are plenty of places to rent down here, everything from apartments and condos to full blown home which can sleep up to twelve people and more, and a dog or two. We always opt for a house. You can’t rent a hotel for seven people for seven days in a place like this for even half of what it costs to rent this house. Our house, A Shore Thing, will sleep ten with the pullout sofas in the den. The place is fully furnished, the kitchen is totally equipped, and it’s a short five minute walk to the beach. A beautiful white sand beach.

We had to wait for Connie’s daughter, Kelli, the two grandkids (15 & 17 ) and their two friends to get here. They were driving from Hiawassee, Georgia. Through the wonder of cell phones we knew they’d be joining us in about an hour. So we strolled leisurely down to the beach, looking at the beauty we were about to embrace for the next week. Just rewards for flying Blender Airlines.

Sunday night let us know loud and not so clear we were in the Gulf of Mexico. With the weather lady forecasting a 30% chance of scattered thunderstorms, at around 9:00PM all hell broke loose. Since we missed Katrina two years ago by a mere week she had come back to pay her respects. Well. not quite, thank
God, but close enough for us. We were in the middle of a thunder and lightning crusade. Rain was pelting the house so hard the only other thing you could hear was the thunder. Good thing we had plenty of lightning because the power went off and stayed off most of the night. Around this island a lot of the homes are built on sturdy stilts—8X8’s—so that the wind and weather can sail through the foundation without tearing the place up. They’re built to move with the wind. And move this house did. It did a jig for a couple of hours that made that plane ride seem like the kiddy tug boat ride at Disney World. I think the girls stayed under the kitchen table for the night while Connie and I tried to sleep through it. Yeah, we’re a couple of old salty dogs alright. I think we got about two hours that night. The purple bags under my eyes Monday morning were a stark contrast to my pallid club tan.

But Monday the gulf turned out to be a beautiful clear day and the gulf was a body surfing machine. I was out there there for most of the morning. The rest of the week the weather was perfect, but the gulf smoothed out and body surfing became a mere memory.

I don’t know if you guys out there have ever spent a week with six women and NO, I say NO, men. Don’t try it if you have no patience. I think I hear Nemo snickering. Artie, patience? Well, hey, I agreed to this arrangement (derrangement?) so suck it up, buddy. Actually, I love Kelli and the girls. Yeah, the kids are full of teenage angst and all the craziness attached to growing through that stage of life, but all in all they’re good girls. They don’t cuss, Kelli would descend upon them like a club. No drugs, smoking, drinking. I guess they never have any fun. Kaytlin, the 15 year old, is into basketball. She’s tall and strong. Don’t mess with Kaytlin. Amberly was into softball, but she broke her leg a while back and the game lost it’s luster. Too bad. She’s bigger and stronger than Kaytlin and would make a great catcher or first basemen. Their two friends, Kayla and Heather, are nice as can be. What a pleasent surprise.

Wednesday night we decided to try Chef Eddie’s Magnolia Grill. I should have known by the empty parking lot that we were not in for culinary thrills. But hey, the gumbo was good, Chef Eddie was from the east (can’t be all bad), and…we were hungry.

We walked in and were immediately seated at a table in the back room. Nice casual place. It looked clean and I liked the jazzy recorded music. Debbie handed each of us a menu. I nearly choked on my own spit. The prices were, to say the least, a bit pricey. Nothing under $20, and most in the $30 range. This better be good. I saw on the menu that they had home made bread. I love fresh home made bread. When she brought out the Pop and Serve rolls it was all downhill from there. I’ll make this short and sweet. Stay away from the Magnolia grill. If the tab was half of what it turned out to be it still would have not been worth it. I wish we would have gone to our fave place in Apalachacola, The Owl Cafe. The food is prepared right. It aint cheap but it’s worth every penny. Lesson learned, again, and again, and again. ‘Nuf said about that. We drove back to St. George. The girls wanted ice cream so they all stopped at the island stand and I drove back to the house. I went upstairs and hoped we’d all make it through the night without getting sick. Nobody felt good after Chef Eddie’s. Tomorrow was another day.

Of course I brought my camera and the few pieces of equipment I have for it. A tripod, wide angle and telephoto adapters which take my two year old Fuji E550 from 32.5mm wide to about 16mm, and the zoom from 120mm to about 240mm. The adapters were an impulse buy over the phone. A poor choice because of the poor quality of the lenses. I hardly ever use them. And then there’s my MacBook. I couldn’t wait to start snapping and downloading, and fixing, and storing, and…well, this is the first trip down here with my computer so I was excited to have all this to do while the girls were arguing and running after each other. “Where’s my bear? I want it now! I’ll kill you!” “Moooom”! I don’t know how Kelli does it.

Thanks to Nemo and John Farr I now have Adobe Photoshop CS3 on this computer, on top of the Elements 4 I had before. I’m loaded for bear. Man, what a program. The Bridge is definitely the most exciting thing about it, at least for me. It’s the best way to organize the pix, select, fix, file, anything. Everything. And you can move all the tools around to customize it the way YOU want it. There are also some exciting new tools Adobe came up with, not the least of which is the Quick Selection Tool. I’m not going to go into a Photoshop symposium here. Actually, I couldnt if I wanted to. I’ll leave that sort of thing up to Deke and the boys. But if you’re into photography at all Adobe has the software for you. You don’t have to spend a lot of do-re-me either. Adobe Photoshop Elements 4, and now 5, are very easy on the budget, and are extremely powerful.

I put the coffee on before I left for the beach this morning thinking it’ll be ready when I get back. Another habit. Coffee in the morning. Strong. Black. So imagine my surprise when I walked through the sliding door from the porch and saw the pot with nothing in it while the coffee maker was gurgling away. Uh oh. Not good. I opened up the lid and all the water was floating the coffee around but wouldn’t drain into the pot. I must have knocked the lid loose in my haste to get to the beach and it was out of position to trip the little thingy that lets the coffee drain. I caught it just before it overflowed all over the counter. By the time it drained the coffee had been “brewing” for about half an hour in that well. It was STRONG. But good.

I’ve got some more Photoshopping to do this morning. And eating. And yes, more beer around four or so. I can’t take it back with me, and it’s a sin to waste food (beer: same thing). Tomorrow we pack and leave for Tennessee, back to the office for Connie, the club and studio for me.Gotta make some more money so we can do this again.

I recommend this place for anyone who wants to get away from the buzz and intrusions of life. It’s one of the most peaceful places I’ve ever been. No Mickey D’s, no bikers, no hubbub. Just you, the beach, the sun, the waves, and fresh seafood. Did I mention beer? With six women you gotta have it, believe me.