A Fantastic Weekend!

This has been such a great weekend! And, that's really saying something, given the amount of near catastrophies we managed to scrape by... I started out the tone for the weekend when I went to pick Steve up at the airport on Friday. Now, as many of you know, I have a knack for ruining Steve's sunglasses. I've sat on them. I've dropped them, I've scratched them... you name it, I've done it. So, Steve shows up Friday wearning a really nice, brand new pair of shades. They look great on him and I compliment on him, spurring him to hand them over to me so I can check out the beautiful high-clarity lens. Within a blink of an eye, a force field develops between his hand holding the sunglasses and my outstretched paw, shooting the new glasses up, up, up in the air and crashing down to the concrete parking lot where they skidded to a stop. On the lenses. I am completely and totally aghast. Steve just smiles and says "they're legendary in their scratchproofing". He was right, they're still sharp, clear, and I'm not touching them again. Ever.

We then met Jimmy, Arlene and Savannah at the bowling alley for a little 10 pin. It was a great night; Savannah and I were putting a hurtin' on the boy's team (she's right - the bumpers really DO help) and I ended up losing my voice from hooting and hollerin... all up until somewhere around the 8th frame of the last game. Steve went up with panache to prove that boys could do better than girls... and with truly amazing velocity, lubbed the ball straight into the striker arm. So. We broke the bowling alley. Now, as a kid, I remember thinking that management at Maroon Lanes might really and truly make my group of friends PURCHSE the whole dang business when my friend Derek lost his footing and slid 6 inches onto the perfectly oiled lane. I was bracing for the worst - but all they did was roll their eyes and tell us to hand in our shoes, since we put that section of the alley out of commission. Really, they're great people.

The next morning, Steve and I got up early and headed out to Shacks Beach for some snorkin' and scootin' - it was time to give the new underwater scooters their maiden voyage. Ergo, you have this set of pictures. The water was beautiful. I'm talking, make you giggle with glee every 2 minutes kind of beautiful. (and that tickles underwater) It was crystal clear, and just perfect. So, of course, the first thing we did was scoot right out to the Blue Hole and start exploring. We found some previously unexplored (by us) sections of reef, and some truly amazing huge fans. So, we did lots of skin diving. Chasing schools of fish under ledges. Head down to the bottom; head up to the surface. Again and again and again. Now, typically, we ALWAYS tie our car keys into our swimsuit. Typically. This day, after swimming until both the scooter batteries, and our own calorie-fueled batteries had been depleted, we slog out to the car, talking about how absolutely famished and thirsty we are, and how great a big, cold 5 gallon jug of Gatorade is going to taste. When we get to the car, which is parked in the broiling sun, Steve looks at me incredulously, because I'm not fishing out the keys to unlock the doors and get us to food and water. I look at him with exactly the same expression. About 50 lbs of gear is instantly dropped on the ground as we frantically check every possible place for keys. And then, I head back out to sea with my sorry little snorkel and fins, while he goes in search of a coat hanger or a slim jim. It should come as no surprise that 45 more minutes of snorkeling did nothing to retrieve our keys from the ocean. In fact, I'm quite sure that their shiny glow is in the gut of a baracuda as I type. Hallelujah for our wonderful friend Darryl, who came along to save the day. We left Steve at the car with a coat hangar (that didn't look suspicious at all...) and Darryl ferried me back home to fetch a spare set of keys. What we really didn't think of at the time, was how difficult it was going to be to get back to the house. There's a lot of security where we live. The car has to be registered. Darryl's car is not our car. You have to have a military id. Mine is in the house. Once you get past the gate, you have to hope that you left one door or window unlocked. We did not. You then have to call the OOD to come let you into your own house, but that requires an id. See previous line for location of ID. Suffice it to say that by the time I finally got into my house, Steve had already broken into the car and was on his way home. Many, many thanks to Darryl and Keith, the OOD for being so gracious in helping us out! So, it was a great day of snorkeling, we have the pictures to prove it. But, in light of the past two days events, Steve and I decided to forego the party we were supposed to attend that night. Instead, we drank about 4 gallons of Gatorade each. Ate pretty much everything in the fridge. And didn't move from the couch (which we lined with pillows, just to be on the safe side).