Cherry Grove

So there I was on the pier at Cherry Grove taking about a zillion images of the beach and the cottages when I spotted a wedding taking place on the beach. It was a beautiful day for a wedding; there was a slight breeze and not a cloud in the sky. I hadn't seen a wedding on the beach for years, not since little Mary K got married years ago, so I thought I'd just watch for a while. The longer I watched, the more I laughed. I couldn't help it. Then I started taking pictures because I knew this was going to be a post on my blog.

Remember this was the middle of March and the beach was not crowded. Most of the people behaved as though this happened all of the time. I guess they were trying to mind their own business and not intrude. People continued to walk their dogs and play in the sand. But there was one man who was not going to let a little thing like a WEDDING stop him from what he had on his list to do that day...search for metal, i.e. gold! For the sake of anonymity, let's just call him Floyd.

Here's Floyd at the beginning of the ceremony. Trying to act nonchalant, as if nothing is going on. But wait, there's more.

He continues his quest for gold. If you want to know more about this "hobby," go to www.aquaexplorers.com/metaldetectingbeachhunting.htm


Then he moved...and woke up!

He stops for a minute to watch the proceedings.

Floyd realized that this was going to take longer that he wanted to wait. The ceremony was over, but the picture-taking began. He figured there was no way he would be able to search that area so he starts to leave.
Bless his heart. Bye Floyd, you made my day.

Meanwhile back at the ceremony...I'm not getting this shot. One, she's getting her dress wet, and two, does she really want a shot of her back side?

I'll bet they're trying to figure out how to get those people out of their 2011 Christmas card shot.

This is the last image I shot before racing off to find Floyd. I think I might trade my camera for a metal detector. On the other hand, I'm getting kinda good at sneaking around so I might look into private investigating. So much to ponder.

YOU TELL ME

I applied for a popular art show in another state and recently received THE rejection letter. Several weeks later their website posted a list of all the artists that were accepted. Being the competitive person I am, I checked out each of the photographers to see how I compared as a photographer. So here we are. I have inserted two images below.

One was accepted and one wasn't. One is mine and one isn't. Mine was shot last year at Brookgreen Gardens. One was shot in the summer and one in the winter, thus the lack of leaves in the top image. I converted mine to black and white to make it easier to compare.

Tell me what you think. Can you guess which one is in the show?

It's A Nab For Heaven's Sakes...

NOT a sandwich cracker.

A couple of months ago, George, my stepson, (he really is a bright kid...graduated from Calhoun Honors College at Clemson) was in the car with us going to Charlotte. We made a quick stop at a rest area where we bought some snacks, a.k.a. junk food. As we continued our trek north on 85, I opened a pack and said to George, "Would you like a NAB?" His reply, "What's a nab?" What? It was like a knee jerk reaction. I looked at Tom and he looked at me in total disbelief. Shocked. Speechless. Reading each other's mind, we were thinking, "What did he just say?"

I ask you this. How could anyone raised in the south or even the southeast, not know what a NAB is? Since I am his stepmother and he didn't come into my life until he was fourteen, I take absolutely no responsiblily for this blatant failure in parenting.

But wait, there's more. One evening a few weeks ago, as I was watching television as I'm prone to do anytime after 8:00 A.M., I saw a commercial that almost caused me to hyperventilate. They were advertising NABS but were calling them "sandwich crackers." Help me Rhonda! No one, and I mean no one who I know calls them sandwich crackers. They are quite simply, NABS.

So to quell this confusion this is a NAB.

And this is a pack of NABS.


It's that simple. Will someone please tell the Lance people.