29 for the third time!

32 came much too quickly and there's so many ways you can compare the number of years. You could say that I've turned 4 eight times or 16 twice or that I'm midway to 64. No matter how you slice it, the number stays the same (until next year) and I'm forced to deal with reality. I thought I'd freak out this year, but I actually liked turning 32. I remember waking up on my 23rd birthday and crying for an hour because it meant I was closer to 25, which is basically 30 and after that it was all down hill. What an idiot! :)

Fernando is always so great about my birthday. Since it's only two days before Christmas, he makes sure to separate the two (which many people never did) and make it extra special for me. This year he bought me a new camera which we just had to test out before he took me to dinner.

This year we went to the Macaroni Grill. This was the first restaurant we chose when we celebrated our first un-anniversary together in Miami. This year we asked Rob and Melissa to join us.

While I'm a great fan of any great dish, I have to admit that the bread is always my favorite part of the meal and their bread is amazing- an was very necessary while I was sipping a glassful of Riesling on an empty stomach. I'm not a wino by any means and rarely drink, but when I do it hits me ten-fold. Whew!

We had a great server! He was a "little person" and cool as hell. Towards the end of our meal, he asked if I would like someone to sing to me in Italian- well hell yeah, how can I pass that up? As they brought out our dessert, another server came to our table and sang Happy Birthday- she had such a BEAUTIFUL voice and anything said/sung in Italian gets 10 stars from me any day.

After the singing, I let everybody dig in to the complimentary birthday dessert, while I dug in to the dessert that came with my meal. Holy hell, can I just tell you how amazing it was? I love anything lemon but this was unreal...


After our fun and very yummy dinner, we headed to the movie theater to catch "4 Christmases." It had it's moments, but I probably wouldn't advise spending $8.50 to go see it. That's just me. I always enjoy spending time with friends, so that made it totally worth it. After the movie, we said our good-byes and went our separate ways. We enjoyed a nice, evening alone and I even got a birthday kiss!

A simple coupon...

I'm sure I'm not alone in saying that the holidays have a way of wearing you down. The crowds at the mall seem even more aggressive than usual and the "20 items or less" lanes supply ample opportunity for choice words to be exchanged. It's a horrible example of celebrating the birth of our savior. I have to admit that I'm one of those people that turns into a robot once I pull into a parking lot. Sure, I'll let pedestrians cross and am mindful of who saw what parking space first, but after that, survival of the fittest kicks in. It wasn't until last night while Fernando and I were grocery shopping for our Christmas dinner, that I truly was touched by a complete stranger. As we were checking out, she simply asked if we could use a $10.00 coupon. It wasn't a huge amount of money and honestly, it wasn't even about the money. She went out of her way to do something kind for others. Needless to say, I graciously accepted her offer and thanked her. As we were walking to the car, it hit me and I realized that she was a great example of what Christmas means. I feel rejuvenated and inspired by her actions. If we could all do the same, there would truly be peace on earth. I know the Spirit of Christmas is still alive. Merry Christmas and God bless you all!

Weekends with Hannah

Just before leaving work on Friday, I got a phone call and on the other end of the line was this little, sweet, angelic voice "Um... Aunt Mariko, do you think I can spend the night with you?" How can I say no? After checking with Uncle Fernando, I picked up Hannah on my way home. Hannah is tender hearted, loves affection, an animal whiz and LOVES- yes, loves sugar. Needless to say our big project this weekend was to make sugar cookies and decorate them.

http://recipes.pauladeen.com/index.php/recipesviewmonogrammed_sugar_cookies/

Friday night, we spent a couple hours making 2 batches of "Paula Deen's" sugar cookies- 1 red and 1 green. Hannah learned to measure ingredients, sift, and mix. I'm still cleaning my counter. :) Well, God bless Paula, but I'm not down with this recipe. I just figured with all that work, we'd get the 5 dozen cookies per batch like it said we would. We might have gotten 4 even after doubling the recipe. Que sera! Hannah was in hog heaven needless to say and I must have heard, "Oooh, can I lick that?" eleventy billion times, but it was totally worth it. We put the dough in the fridge to chill over night and watched several episodes of "The Barefoot Contessa" on the dvr.


Chewy adores Hannah 99% of the time unless he's being a brat. He even ditches ME to instead sleep next to her. I don't mind a bit really, I love the idea of him "protecting" her while she sleeps. So cute. This was the first thing I saw this morning when I got up....


We got dressed and headed to the office where she was patient for the most part. I only work half shifts on Saturdays so I don't mind bringing the girls with me when they stay the weekends. After getting home, we began rolling out our cookies and cutting our shapes. Yikes. After seeing the first batch come out, I decided we'd be better off just rolling dough balls.

Ok, so I'm a bit of a control freak though I really do try and let it go at times. I gave Hannah a nice chunk of dough to play with, cut out shapes, stick up her nose or whatever while I made ball after ball after ball. That didn't last very long and soon it was a nice crumbly mess.


She did let me know however, that it still "tasted real good!" even with the additional 2 pounds of flour. She got bored and took a break while I finished baking the rest of our perfectly round cookies. After they cooled a bit, it was time to decorate!


I gave Hannah one frosting bag and I took the other. She managed to decorate her's pretty quickly if I do say so myself. I went for the whimsical look, but not sure I got there. Oh well, they're pretty darn tasty all the same.


Shortly after the cookie project was completed, I decided I'd had enough "entertaining" for the weekend. Ahhhh... the joys of being an aunt- I just give them back! Gotta love the kiddies!

I-10

I've been searching for a disk for over a year and I just found it in a stack of cd's- go figure since I'm so organized. :) I was so excited to see old pics of me with pals and some of my old songs I had written back then. Wow, I forget how emotional those years were for me and everything I was trying to get through. Music was my only outlet and I can remember spending DAYS with my guitar practically glued to my hands. One of my "therapy" songs is titled " I-10 " which most of the nation has traveled at one time or another. It's an account of my unbridled enthusiasm to get out of my hometown and spread my wings once I reached the other side of the country. My theme song while moving out west was the Dixie Chicks' "Wide Open Spaces" and coming home it was Beth Hart's "Back to L.A."

It's hard for things to go to plan when you don't have a plan to begin with. Throw that on top of a really horrible relationship and you've got a disaster on your hands. Needless to say, I came home with my tail between my legs and felt broken. I'm not looking for pity, I needed to experience it. There's nothing like learning what life can throw at you and how you handle it. I can look back on those times and while I still cringe that the thought of some decisions I made, I have a musical journal to remind me that I can get through anything. Cheesy? Maybe. But I'm alive and happy to be so. Tell me whatcha' think!!

My Sweet Ol' Lady

I suddenly awoke at 5am this morning. Not sure why and not sure if I'd rather be back in bed or not, but it's too late now. It's another Thanksgiving morning- the dogs are sprawled out on the living room floor (Lola's hogging up the heater) and Fernando's snoring in bed. It doesn't feel like Thanksgiving- it never feels like Thanksgiving anymore. When I was a kid, our whole family would show up at Grandma's house. I knew it was Thanksgiving when I'd see Grandma's turkey platter on the counter. This isn't just your run of the mill platter. It's decorated with a colorful bird, fall foliage and even brags a few chips and dings. How is it that I can find comfort in a turkey platter.......?

We never had a huge family- it's always been pretty small in comparison to most, but there wasn't anything better than having everyone gathered together. Family gatherings consisted mainly of my parents, grandmother, 3 kiddies, uncle Charles and every now and then, distant relatives would pop in around the holidays. Grandma would prepare a feast as Mom helped, which left Dad to
watch us kiddies- or the back of his eyelids, whichever won the battle. Granddaddy passed away when I was 5 and I don't remember much from those days. My grandmother was really the only grandparent I grew up knowing and formed an extremely close bond with.


My parents divorced in 1992 and our family gatherings drastically changed. Spending the holidays with each of my parents was awkward. I felt guilty every time I left Mom to go see Dad and vice versa. I hated it. Finally in 1996, we three kids announced that Thanksgiving dinner would take place at Jyo's and Kenji's house and everyone was invited to attend. That way, there was no rushing from place to another and we'd all have to get along under one roof. My then sister-in-law and I spent a week getting ready for our first ever post-divorce family dinner. I was so nervous and excited all at once, but glad it was finally happening. My grandma was going to be there and I looked to her to keep the peace- everything would be fine.

The day before Thanksgiving that year, Grandma received a package in the mail. I took it to her and watched her open it- revealing a black dress and black shoes. They were hideous and I just looked at her with confusion. I know she saw it because she quickly explained that she was going to be buried in it. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh no... no no no no no. No way. I told her it was hideous and there was no way I'd ever let that happen and besides, she wasn't going anywhere any time soon. She chuckled. Later that day, I caught her as she started for the mailbox. I told her I'd mail the Christmas card for her and to have a seat, I'd be right back. She insisted that she put it in the mailbox, which was about 100 feet away. It was only Thanksgiving, why was she sending Uncle Greg's Christmas card so soon? I stopped wondering when I saw the look on her face as she walked back to the house. She quickly sat down and placed a nitroglycerin pill under her tongue. I panicked, but she assured me that everything was fine. Ahh, the naive 19 year old that I was.

I spent most of the afternoon with her that day before packing an overnight bag and heading to my brothers' house an hour away. Before leaving, I turned around, stuck my head in the doorway and said, "I love you, my sweet ol' lady!" and hopped in my car. That evening was spent preparing for our big dinner the next day and playing with Izaak who was only 4 at the time. I slept on the couch that night while everyone else went to their rooms. My eyes opened at 7:25am just before the phone rang. I heard Jyo answer it and I started to get dressed and put on my shoes. He walked down the hall and the look on his face confirmed everything- my sweet ol' lady was on her way to the hospital. I knew.

I knew that would be the last time I'd ever see her. We met Dad and Kay at the hospital and played the waiting game until we could see Grandma. She had apparently died in the ambulance, but they were able to recessitate her. I was shocked to see her hooked up to so many machines and tubes. She wasn't able to speak because of the tube in her throat. I sat by her bed, held her hand and cried. She squeezed my hand and mouthed the words, "Don't cry. I love you." She was so calm, so relaxed... I knew she was ready to go, she had been preparing for it all along. She had a living will and it was her wishes not to be recessitated or kept alive with medical technology. She held on for us and I mean "for us." She was ready but she knew that we weren't. How do you tell someone how much you love them when you know there's only a few hours until they're taken from you? Those hours quickly dwindled down and I watched the clock all day hoping it would stop, but the time came too soon.

Dad asked to be alone with her for a moment. I'll never know what was said behind closed doors, it was a last moment for a mother and her son. Her tubes were removed after that and all life support was put to an end. We gathered in her room- family and close friends, just as it should have been. She had closed her eyes and it looked as though she was asleep- so peaceful, so natural. The room was silent except for the heart monitor, as the beeps grew further and further apart and her breaths became softer and softer. Her life came to an end on November 28, 1996. My heart actually broke that day- I felt it.

Not a word was said as I rode back from the hospital with Dad and Kay. I lay in the back seat still sobbing from losing her and just when I thought I was out of tears, more would well up and pool in my hands. I lay in my bed that night and cried even more after finally realizing what had happened. Nearly beside myself and unable to sleep, my scalp began to tingle as I felt fingers run through my hair and an immediate calm came over me. That hospital room wasn't going to be the final memory of my grandmother after all- I knew she was with me and comforting me one last time and that memory will stay with me always.


It's been 12 years and not a day goes by that I don't think about her. I never did let that awful black dress touch her skin. Instead I chose the same beautiful green dress she wore at my high school graduation. Kay fixed her hair as I did her make-up. I wasn't sure how I was going to react seeing her lifeless body, but it was just that- her body. I knew her spirit was still alive and that gave me great comfort knowing that I'll see her again once my turn comes to leave this life. I firmly believe that she watches over us and especially the grandchildren she never got to meet here on earth. If they could have met their great-grandmother.... though I'm sure they already have.

Born Too Late

Ever wish you had been born in a different time, a different era? Sometimes I think it would have been amazing to live in the days of Queen Elizabeth I, but then I'm reminded of the diseases and piss pots and have no desire whatsoever to live that way. Then there's the "Southern Bell" era- oh to have worn those amazing gowns and fancy hats! But again, I'm reminded of no air conditioning and even more piss pots. Oooh, but to have grown up in the 40's- when Americans were still Americans, milk was delivered to your doorstep, Benny Goodman and Glenn Miller were household names, waving to strangers was okay and people had the utmost respect for their nation and its leaders- sign me up! Is it any wonder they were considered the Greatest Generation that ever lived?

I'm sick of all this election mess and political mumbo jumbo. Right now I just want to sit back, close my eyes and picture myself dancing cheek to cheek with Fernando as Glenn Miller plays on...

Mari's Week of Firsts!

THAT, my friends, is both of our cars covered in the first frost of the season! How exciting!! We don't normally get such cold weather until December- so this has been a freaky October as far as I'm concerned. As a kid, we had to choose our Halloween costumes wisely or we'd be drowning in sweat by the end of the night and experiencing a heat stroke. That won't be the case this year for the lil' chitlins. Lucky duckies. Now if I can only get it to snow......




As a result of our cooler than normal weather, I've decided this year to perfect my crocheting skills and make some nice winter scarves and hats. My first scarf? Oops. Who cares if it looks like a 5th grade art project. I'll wear it. I have no shame. I did however, manage to pull off the most adorable scarf/hat set for my little Emma (my pretend niece). The scarf is a miniature replica of the one I made for Joelea- how cute are they going to look when they both wear them!
Anyhow, Ta-daaaaaa!





I learned how to crochet when I was 7 but never really did anything with it until now.... 24 years later. Ugh, that made my stomach churn. I bought my first set of knitting needles and am working on a knitted scarf. The texture is much different from crochet, and it's taking me alot longer also. I watched a few knitting videos on YouTube- stop laughing. It was insightful, but I needed my mom to show me a few things or two that I wasn't picking up from the video. Who knew. I asked Fernando if he felt like he was married to an old geezer but he said it was hot that I was crafty and had skills. Werd.

Gimme Gimme Smore

Some of my earliest childhood memories include chilly, evening campfires with my family. My dad would build a fire and we'd lay our blankets/sleeping bags on the ground and nestle in. Mom would place hotdogs on our freshly made hotdog sticks, compliments of dad, and we'd hold them over the fire- or in my case, in the fire. I figured it would cook faster and who cares if half of my hotdog was covered in ash? Back then, I had no qualms getting my fingers sticky and gooey with roasted marshmallows or covering my face in ketchup with each bite of my ashy hotdog.

Fast forward 25+ years and you'll find us still enjoying our family campfires. You could say it's become a tradition- one that my father started and one that I'm so thankful for. It's a time for us to enjoy each others company and share countless stories that never seem to grow old. It's bonding. It's nostalgic. It's family. The weather is perfect right now- I feel a campfire coming on.

Here's a few photos of campfires past- sticky faces and all.


Kenji in one of dad's old sweatshirts- not sure what he's doing.


They trusted me to spear my own marshmallows... awesome.


What a sticky mess!

Nauvoo Nouveau

I found some pics from November 2000's trip to Chicago and Nauvoo. (Yes, I'm still scanning photos!) I had the opportunity to take a long weekend trip and until then, the only cities I had been to were DC, Atlanta, Miami and whatever may be in between. Chicago made me think of dark and dirty alleys, crackheads on park benches and the token prostitute at every corner. Little did I know.... it was the most beautiful city I have ever stepped foot in. It was amazing! I could have walked that entire city and not been tired. I guess I was so wrapped up trying to take everything in, that I forgot to get out my camera except for one time while waiting to cross the street. Random, I know. Seventeen? Really?

I got to visit the Sears Tower and various other Chicago landmarks. I also took the tour of Mar's Cheese Palace in Kenosha, Wisconsin. I don't even like cheese but when in Rome.... Ever wondered what the biggest mall in Wisconsin looks like? I found that out as well.



My favorite part of the entire trip, was the day spent in Nauvoo. I grew up LDS and though I may not be the best example, I have a deep connection and love for the history of the church and hardships that the early members had to endure. Nauvoo was almost like a wonderland for me. It took me back long before my time. It had a reverence about it and there wasn't a soul that I encountered who wasn't smiling or saying hello. I wanted to move there immediately but had to remind myself of my plans for SLC.



The first stop was in Carthage, IL to Carthage Jail where Joseph Smith was killed. My parents were converts to the church. I'm a first generation member and had always longed to be able to say my great-great-great grandparents travelled west and settled in the Great Salt Lake Valley. I felt that if I had that in my background, I'd feel more connected to the church. The thought never entered my mind that day as I felt an instant connection through the rich history provided. It was instantly real to me- not just stories I learned about every Sunday. Suddenly, it was real.



From there we drove to Nauvoo- nestled right on the Mississippi River, this small town was a paradise. The restored buildings from the days of Joseph Smith still stood and best of all, the Nauvoo Temple was being reconstructed. I wish we had timed it better- the following day, President Gordon B. Hinkley was to dedicate the corner stone. Just my luck. That didn't stop me from enjoying every detail about that day.



Fernando and I have the opportunity to go to Chicago this spring and I hope to be able to let him experience the beauty and reverence of Nauvoo, but most importantly, I want to make new memories with him.

Salt Lake or Bust!

I'm pathetic in that I have a box of family photos I still haven't finished scanning- over a year ago. Going through them tonight, I found some photos of the morning I moved to Salt Lake. I had originally planned on attending BYU in Provo and transferred with my company- it sounded like a great plan. That 3 day trek was undoubtedly the coolest thing I have ever done. I felt so alive- so liberated- so independent! It's sad, but I don't have many photographs from the time that I spent in Utah, even though it was short-lived. I did manage to get a few shots of my first actual "snow fall" and snow man. Awesome I must say.

For us Florida peeps, snow is something magical. We don't know what it's like to have a white Christmas or what it's like having to wake up an hour earlier to shovel the drive (thank goodness!) Once in my existence has it snowed here and that was on the morning of my 12th birthday, December 23, 1988. My mom woke me up and said my birthday surprise was outside my window. I remember rubbing my eyes and praying for a horse but quickly forgetting about any horse when I saw that white blanket of snow! I tore off my covers and ran barefoot out the front door. It was heavenly!... and cold. I made my very first snowman that morning. He was 6 inches tall and I dressed him in Barbie attire. Sigh... back to my move!


I left on the morning of April 1st (I think?) of 2001, with the my parents, Regan and Joelea there to see me off. Kenji and Susie were still in the hospital since the new arrival of Hannah just days earlier. It killed me to leave without getting to know my new niece, but I had to venture out there- something was forcing me to go. Can't explain it. After saying good bye and drying my eyes, off I went!


I didn't really have a plan. I just figured I'd wing it as I did so often. I was smart enough to bring an atlas (this was before I discovered Mapquest). I think I had a smile permanently stuck on my face all the way to Houston, TX that first day. I'm a total stickler for obeying speed limits now, but back in the day, 90mph made for "good time" on the interstate. Lucky chick. I spent the night in a Houston hotel only to be kept awake most of the night by the local vatos. I was young and naive and had no reservations until they attempted to break into my room. No thanks! Needless to say, I got an early start the next morning.


I'm sure there was a better route than the one taken, but I thought it would be "cool" to drive through Oklahoma and then head west again through Kansas, Colorado and eventually Utah. What the butt. Nobody bothered to tell me the only thing worth making note of when traveling the interstate through Kansas is that they boast the world's largest prairie dog. There was a silver lining however once I began to see foothills and a drastic change in the topography... only to be let down once I crossed into Colorado. One minute you see hills, the next minute you don't.



I stopped for the night in Hayes, Kansas. Never heard of it? No worries, I'm sure nobody else has either. Well here it was, day 3 and hopefully the final day of my journey until my final destination of Provo, Utah. (That was the original plan anyhow...) It felt like that scene from Dumb and Dumber when Lloyd drove all night in the wrong direction and protests the flat land by saying "That John Denver's full of **** man." Rockies? Where'd they go? I've been driving for 2 days and deserve to see something magestic and WHOA.. there they are up ahead! I was a giddy little school girl the entire drive through Denver- except for the insane altitude. I'm from Florida......



I finally arrived in Provo around 8pm and quickly found a hotel for the night. I managed to make a few friends on my first night there in fact and things were looking up. I had some friends that had moved to Salt Lake the year before and they invited me to stay with them until I found my own place. Vrooooom, off I went to Salt Lake. My first week there just happened to include their last snowfall of the season. I woke up and saw flakes falling to the ground and as if I were 12 all over again, ran out in my pajamas and played in the snow. That same day, I managed to make my very first snowman. He was insanely ugly but gimme a break.



My friends gave me a tour of the area and Bountiful Canyon. The hike down was great! I've always been a fan of the outdoors and have had my share of hiking- just not in the snow. My jeans were sopping wet and I was thankful I had worn my boots that morning. The only thing I can compare hiking in snow to, is walking through mud or trying to run in water.


David and I hiked for nearly and hour and I finally realized that if I took one more step, I'd never make it back to the truck. We headed back and I was doing fantastic until I looked up and realized I'd have to climb ALL THE WAY BACK UP the canyon. I didn't want to look like a sissy, and honestly, I'm not sure how I managed to do it as much as my legs burned and ached but I soldiered on. What a gorgeous view it was!!



Soon after, I had my first snowball fight and experienced driving in the snow. I'm glad it doesn't snow in Florida. Things happen and I had to move back after just 5 months. All good, everything happens for a reason. I'm still drawn to Utah and can't wait to return to Salt Lake one day- I just need to convince Fernando that he wants to move out there too. I met some amazing people, learned some vital life lessons and wouldn't change a thing.

Sunday Picnics.....

I had two of my brother's children this weekend, Regan (9) and Ashton (5). It just so happened that Fernando had the day off and the weather was more than perfect for a picnic down at the lighthouse. Once I mentioned it to my father, I knew it wouldn't be long before he would announce that he would like to join us. I love my dad.

He kept the kids entertained while I prepared and packed our picnic lunch. After stopping along the way for cold drinks and ice, we were off! I can honestly say that I have absolutely no idea how many times I've been to the lighthouse. I feel as though it was part of my childhood. Let me rephrase that, it WAS part of my childhood. I can recall countless trips there whether it was to explore trails, fish, hide Easter eggs, search for alligators or just hang with friends and make insane videos (Cathi....), St. Marks Wildlife Refuge plays a big roll in my life and appreciation for nature. In an effort to keep up family traditions, I love taking my brother's children there and watching them experience the very things I did at their age.

A mile or so after entering the refuge, there's a fantastic spot just off the road, scattered with picnic tables, large Oaks and Cabbage Palms. It's appropriately named "Picnic Pond." Convincing my nephew Ashton that it was important for us to finish our lunches BEFORE he started luring the birds to our table was impossible. Luckily, the birds didn't seem too thrilled about crumby, white bread left-overs. (Get it? crumby? moving on.... )

After Ashton's ill-fated attempts at converting my father into a bottle cap pirate, we packed up and headed down to the lighthouse. The road leading there is several miles long which makes for a great ride as everyone peers to either side of the road in hopes of finding the granddaddy gator of them all. The best time to go is mid-afternoon and you're sure to find them out on the banks, sunning themselves and offering fantastic photo ops. If gators aren't your cup of tea, there are eagles, osprey, deer, black bear, racoons, possom, armadillo, snakes and various other wildlife to peak your interest. Don't get excited about the black bear. I've lived here nearly my entire life and have only seen one in the wild on this very road.

After surveying several sunning gators, we reached the lighthouse and pulled into a surprisingly crowded parking area. The kids made a beeline for the lighthouse ledge and Fernando helped them up as I looked on and shrieked every time Ashton got too close to the edge. There's a great trail behind the lighthouse that leads to the beach side. Unfortunately, it was blocked off today but the good thing is it was due to sea turtle nesting. This small obstacle made no difference in our day as we managed to find some fascinating creatures along the way.

The first display we came to, was a crowd of fiddler crabs navigating in a sea of bodies. "Tap-tap-tap" was all you could hear as they moved in waves along the muddy shore.

As we ventured further, we followed the trail to the beach side and were greeted by thousands of snails on the salt reeds, as they waited patiently for the next high tide. Ashton found a baby crab and helped it on it's way. (Hopefully it wanted to go to the water.)

We found more fiddler crabs and the evidence of freshly dug homes. As a child, I was amazed when I stumbled across these perfect little balls of wet sand and couldn't imagine how they got there. Thanks to Animal Planet, I now know it's how the fiddler crabs clean out their waterfront abodes. Fernando and the kids scoured the ground, searching for something worthy of everyone's attention.

By this time, I had been bit roughly eleventy billion times by the ravenous dog flies. What's a dog fly? Demon spawn- but for those of you completely unfamiliar, they look exactly like house flies. You can't tell the difference between them until they land on you and bite. Anybody have a better description? This being said, I stuck it out as long as possible, but it seemed that no amount of gulf breeze could blow those suckers away. With that, I announced that it was time to head back in and look for alligators but not before I snapped a few shots of the lighthouse.

We walked to the marsh pools and had no luck with the gators. I have to admit though, I've never seen a kid so happy to be sitting next to bird poop.

It wasn't long before those darn dog flies found me yet again. Back to the car we went, but not before a few
more shots:









It was a beautiful day spent with some of the most important people in my life and I can't wait to have this opportunity again.