My life as I know it

Emscapades, Volume 3 This Emscapade once again took place on the beach of Pawley's Island, South Carolina. Again, taking a stroll along the beach, only this time it was at night and the sky was pitch black. The beach was pretty empty with the exception of a group just next to the deck leading up to our beach house. Pat and I had just finished our walk along the beach and stopped to pause for a moment and listen to the roar of the ocean waves. After all, there are few better sounds in the world, right? We found ourselves both looking up and gazing at the stars when all of the sudden we hear someone from the group next to us start making bird sounds. "Ca caw, ca caw," he yelled. Pat and I looked at each other, chuckled a little and then went back to our star gazing and wave listening. The bird sound happened again. "Ca caw, ca caw." This time we completely ignored the noise and continued looking up at the stars when all of the sudden, there was a guy runn...

This Emscapade took place on the beach of Pawley's Island, South Carolina. I was taking an innocent stroll along the ocean shore, Graham in tow, when I got caught in the middle, literally, of an exchange between a grandma (I assume) and her grandson. As Graham and I were walking by, the grandma to my right, the ocean to my left, the grandma started yelling toward the ocean in her deep southern draw (sounded more like a West Virginia accent than a South Carolina accent, but what do I know?) to "wipe your hands." The next thing I know, the boy she was yelling to is wiping his sand-covered hands all down my chest, belly and thighs. My jaw dropped to the ground as I looked down and saw the massive amount of sand that was now all over my black bathing suite and shorts. Next, I looked down at the boy, fully expecting to see a little three-year-old looking up at me and realizing I wasn't his mom or his Grandma or whoever he thought I was, and panicking. Instead, I...

I can't take credit for the witty title of this post - my SIL Traci coined the phrase. But what I can take credit for are the crazy shenanigans, also known as Emscapades, that seem to follow me wherever I go - especially the grocery store. Just ask Pat, who will tell you this is one of the many reasons he hates going to the grocery store with me. I am a magnet for strangers starting up conversations with me. And in my opinion, contrary to what Pat thinks, I don't believe I do anything to provoke it. It can be something as simple as me standing in the line at the grocery store checkout with burgers and hamburger buns in my shopping cart. The woman in front of me sees the ingredients and says, "looks like you're having a cookout..." and then proceeds to tell me all about the picnic in the park she just had in which a family of racoons came down from the tree and took away their food. Seriously. Other than the contents of my shopping cart, I did nothing to ...