The Return

I'm home. Back from my Girls Week away and savoring the memories once again.  Each year, there's a new set. They range from unique, sentimental, riotous, sometimes sad, crazy, bizarre and dramatic. One of our mums commented how she just loved to sit and watch the daughters with the carefree antics of youth.  We stayed at a couples resort. Great way to relax without roaming children and drunken teens. Apparently, many at the resort though we were "Couples". There were some stares and back glances. I guess they were trying to figure out who was paired with who!

We took trips by boat to the private island for lunch and a beach for those who preferred topless. We all dined together every night and savored the cuisine of all the restaurants. We enjoyed a birthday dinner for one of the girls.

We may have taken over the piano in the Crystal Room one night......

We arranged for a City bus to go Off Road for a tour of the island. We saw the steps that the slaves climbed from their ships to the holding areas. We saw local bars, houses, Anna Nicole Smith's grave, homes of the rich and famous, Indian caves, and bought beers from the factory to dink along the way, heeding the advice of the tour guide to "lower your beers" when police were spotted.   

And then, there was the Giraffe. "Henry" came as a joke, and grew a life of his own. People wanted their photo taken with him, they danced with him, staff put him behind the bar, women kissed him, some men had a real attraction to him, the Michael Jackson impersonator took him on stage with him, one lady took a big HATE on him (huge drama) and I may have started a conga line with him. Oh MY!

Now we are home digesting the week and filing away the memories. In other news, the Foster Dog has left. He has gone to his Forever Home as they call it. The Raz Man and Boy child did the drop off last weekend. He was lovely, but may not be suited to a home like ours with a cat. There was an incident while I was gone. Unseen, but it was overheard. It sounded like the dog choked up, or choked on the cat. When the Raz Man came to check it out, Dog was already sitting in shame on the time out mat, and cat was traumatized severely enough to stay in hiding for 2 days and even after was shaky and terrified of everything. So reluctantly we say good bye, but next Foster Dog has to have an established good record with a cat. Being on parole just won't do next time.