You know how, after you take down the Christmas tree or after whatever celebration you celebrate, including New Year's Eve, there are, for a few days or maybe weeks or months, bits of debris that pop up? Not bad debris, just that errant Christmas ornament that rolled under the couch or the tinsel you find in your bedcovers or shards of that champagne flute behind the trash can (ok, that's bad debris). Those little reminders of times had over the holidays? That's how my photos are for me. So here are some of the last leftovers that didn't get included for one reason or another.
I was still housesitting up another hill when I heard what had to be a parade. A very close parade. Hopping into the golf cart, I was barely down the hill and around a corner when there it was!
Saturdays at Zach's are becoming a nice habit. Sometimes a special menu, some arts to buy, good music that drops in...nothing the same and everything good. 3 to I'm not sure. Check it out, especially while Ed and a few others are on island.
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There was a definite mellow vibe going on here, more like a Sunday brunch feeling, at a really nice hotel or out on a very big boat on a perfect day. With friends. |
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Just love for no reason at all except for love |
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Duck AND tuna carpaccio And there was more on the menu but this caught my attention. Yes, it was THAT good.
Some sad news for those of you who knew Les. Sad but hey, he was 90 and had a hell of a life. His daughter wrote a truly amazing tribute to him on fb but I'm just going to share the photos she attached, to remind us of the Les we knew here. Who could forget the sound of his bagpipes, wafting over the water in oh most mysteriously sounding ways? Or the sight of him walking, from wherever to wherever, in his high socks, brogue-ish walking shoes and khaki shorts, his dress shirt and bush hat? No one who saw him. So to Les, I was glad to have met you, ave atque vale.
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This next has nothing to do with the holidays - I guess neither did Les - except that it happened during them, but it's my blog and so it goes.
After many years, the stainless steel sink in the houseboat had served, and over served, its purpose, along with the faucet, which looked like it had been dragged up from 20,000 leagues under the sea. Something new was in order. Something that wouldn't rust. Because one of the first lessons to be learned in island living (unless it's an island in far Northern climes) is that stainless does not mean rustless.
I am fortunate enough to have a talented friend who did the deinstallation and installation without anything going wrong and a whole lot going right. Of course, now the counter needs a facelift, but that is how home improvements go, it appears. I'm inordinately excited about this sink and I felt Nancy nodding approvingly. It's acrylic, heavy duty, won't rust and not expensive, in case you need to do the same.
Sitting at Dinghy Dock, enjoying happy hour, sometimes we think of people we want to share it with, so here's this, just in case you aren't here now.
And this. I don't know if there is a training ship in the harbor or not, I didn't look, but that's what this crew looked like to me.
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Sitting on the dock of the bay |
If I already posted this, sorry. But it's a view I really like, sunny or cloudy. When it's sunny, at a certain time in the morning, the reflection on the water is almost unbearable on the eyes, but also incredibly beautiful, the boats seeming to float in a brilliant mirror of silvery golden light. Not on this morning, but that's ok.
I'll leave you with this brave and beautiful image of visual hope. At least, that's how I see it.
Have a tackle your turf Tuesday! Do something ticklish.