Just Another Day in Paradise

Getting up for the sunrise was hard. Very hard. Especially the second day. Really, is it going to look any different? Do I have to get up so early? Why doesn't the sun rise at ten o'clock? Honest to Pete, I can whine about anything.

But the prospect of finding even bigger and more perfect shells was too hard to resist. 

Isn't that human nature? There's always something bigger and better to look for. 

So I dragged myself out of bed, grabbed my camera, and we left for the beach. 

Oh, and I got dressed sometime before the first and second step. Or this would have been an entirely different blog post. 

And the photos, of course. Can't miss a good photo opportunity, right?

The shells on this beach practically throw themselves at you, trying to be one of the select few chosen to go home. Honestly. I have never seen so many shells on a beach in my entire life.

Some parts of the beach were covered in shells, so many that you couldn't see the sand underneath.

So M and I have some issues right now. I'm posting this after I've finished packing to head home, and I forgot about all the shells. Until B said to me, you got room for all those shells?

Um, er, no.

Gulp. I have to go re-pack.

Because those shells are going home with me. I've got plans for those shells. 

Yummy, juicy breakfast. 

I think every morning should start out like this, don't you? 

A little retail therapy in the afternoon.

Uh-oh. More to pack.

This is not good.  The Man is not going to be happy if I have to buy a bigger bag to bring home the souvenirs. I had to do that once when we were on vacation.

But in my defense, we were traveling overseas for two weeks and we collected a few more souvenirs than we thought. So I had to buy a duffle bag on the cruise ship to pack it all in. It all worked out fine. Except for the look I got from the Man when I told him I had to go buy a bag to bring home our souvenirs.

Let's just say I was glad I wasn't near the edge of the boat when I told him.

I like this picture. It reminds me of Gilligan's Island. 

You know the old television show where the stranded castaways lived in grass huts? I loved that show when I was a kid. And I wanted to get stranded on an island and eat coconut cream pie.

Now, not so much with the getting stranded on an island.

But I still want to eat coconut cream pie.