Sand, sun, surf, & stings

We're home. It's well after midnight and heading toward Tuesday morning, and we left much later than we intended, but we're finally home and have almost unloaded the car. I have to write a newsletter, and I'll get the animals before another day passes, but for now, I'm combing through my pictures and trying to remember how miserably hot it was (at least that's what I keep telling myself) and how much prettier mountains are than beaches (again, this is serviceable self-delusion).

I finally, finally got a picture of me and Wesley looking like we actually like each other. Wesley dislikes "posed" pictures, and none of my brilliant and reasonable arguments can sway his opinion. He always looks rather irritated if not downright frightening in pictures. (What happened to the cheery soul I married 18+ years ago?)

So this sort of half-grimace, half-smile is about as good as I'll ever get out of him as long as a camera is in sight. Thank heaven Emily was wielding the thing when the light was pretty and the surf was cooperating!

I will write a *complete* trip report as soon as I recover from the trip -- one of my patented, long-winded, overblown, tediously detailed, wordy behemoths. It could take a few weeks to complete, but I took copious notes whilst vacating. I have lots to say. I would have done the same for Retreat in Wisconsin (still very much on my mind), but... secrets must be kept. Sigh.

Mostly, though, our trip can be summed up in my subject heading. I'm not a beachy person, but I am a low-country-lovin', dyed-in-the-wool Southerner. And I had a blissful week on Edisto Island and in Charleston. I just can't wait to write it all out and share all the photos!!!