Dear pesky godson,

Yes, I did follow your suggestion and I slipped into the water after midnight.  Comparing it to all those Vineyard dips :

Like the Vineyard, I was alone in the water. Unlike the Vineyard,  I didn’t have to worry about tripping on a skunk, and that was a relief. However, the sky’s not as dark because of the nearby buildings and the water’s way too warm so that feeling of remove is all but gone. I was treated to a brilliant half crescent moon, but I confess, I much prefer the Vineyard’s chilly waters.

This place is paradise for me because the photo-ops are unlimited. I get my saturated, vibrant colors and uncluttered backgrounds, and, sometimes, willing subjects.

In this photo, I wanted her and I wanted the boat in the background. She faced me as I knelt down low to the water, but she must have moved as I snapped away.

.

I saw the man in red in the distance and we may not have been part of his circuit,  but he was coming our way.

“What are you selling?” I shouted.

“Aloe from Aruba, pure Aruban Aloe?”

“Can I drink it?”

“Sure you can, it cures bronchitis, and sunburn and skin rashes and … .”

“How much?”

“Ten dollars a bottle, two for fifteen.”

“How about eight for one and I get to take you picture?”

“It’s a deal.”

You can’t tell from the photo but this guy has Arm and Hammer arms.

“I see where you are when you’re not selling aloe. You’re in the gym.”

“Two hours a day.”

* I could have said five bucks; I could have simply taken his photo. That wasn’t the point.

I saw the man in red in the distance and we may not have been part of his circuit,  but he was coming our way.

“What are you selling?” I shouted.

“Aloe from Aruba, pure Aruban Aloe?”

“Can I drink it?”

“Sure you can, it cures bronchitis, and sunburn and skin rashes and … .”

“How much?”

“Ten dollars a bottle, two for fifteen.”

“How about eight for one and I get to take you picture?”

“It’s a deal.”

You can’t tell from the photo but this guy has Arm and Hammer arms.

“I see where you are when you’re not selling aloe. You’re in the gym.”

“Two hours a day.”

* I could have said five bucks; I could have simply taken his photo. That wasn’t the point.

Last night’s dinner view.

We were all up just after 4 AM this morning, stumbling past one another, as Susan prepared to drive back to Minnesota, while Diane, Peter, Matthew and I hurried to stuff our car to get to generous Dan’s house so he could taxi us to Logan. We flew out on time and arrived in Aruba at about 11:30. Peter, who’d made his own travel plans much later than we did, landed an hour later.

************

On the plane – almost there.

Diane: What’s the weather in Aruba?

Matt: The pilot said 90 and overcast.

Me: It’s never overcast in Aruba.

Matt: I don’t care about never, the pilot said overcast.”

Me: He said some clouds.

Matt: I can hear, you can’t, he said overcast.

Me: Just wait until we land.

Matt: I don’t care what’s there, Mom asked me what the pilot said, and he said overcast.

Me: We’ll see.

Matt: No we won’t see. It’s not about seeing. It’s about what the pilot said. I can’t have another one of these arguments about facts.

We landed and it was partly cloudy. I know, that wasn’t the point.

************

The irritating thing about this island which is full of friendly people, all of whom are more laid back that we northerners, is the cost of food and drink. A beer is six bucks. Last night we paid more, according to me.

Me: Matt, how much beer is in your glass?

Matt: Twelve ounces.

Me: That’s not twelve ounces.

Matt: Don’t do this. I saw him pour my glass from the bottle, as did mom, and he emptied the bottle.

Me: That is not twelve ounces.

Matt: Mom, stop him. Did the waiter empty the bottle into my glass?

Mom: He did. I saw it.

Me: Matt, you know what twelve ounces is, you drink beer from cans. How much is in that glass?

Matt: Twelve ounces

Me: The bottle has a false bottom or something because that’s eight ounces, no more.

Matt: I can’t have another argument about facts. We can argue about writers but not fact.

I stopped by the bar on the way out and discovered the bottles they use, though shaped the same, hold only eight ounces. This isn’t about who’s right, it’s about paying six bucks for an eight ounce beer.

We were all up just after 4 AM yesterday morning, stumbling past one another, as Susan prepared to drive back to Minnesota, while Diane, Peter, Matthew and I hurried to stuff our car to get to generous Dan’s house so he could taxi us to Logan. We flew out on time and arrived in Aruba at about 11:30. Peter, who’d made his own travel plans much later than we did, landed an hour later.