Life's a beach, and then you come home

I've spent the past two weeks at my mother's house, tending to her after she had some major surgery. That's why she hasn't been posting her pithy comments here lately. She's recovering nicely and should be back up to speed in a couple months.

But I got to thinking about something. I tell folks I'm going to visit my mother and that she lives on the coast of Georgia and automatically they jump to the conclusion she lives on the beach.

Au contraire. Yes, she lives on a small barrier island, which oddly enough has a longitude that's only -.33 degrees different from Cleveland, Ohio. See? This is why I don't worry so much about her during hurricane season. She is so far inland that their threat from a hurricane is quite minimal. That's not to say it can't happen, but it happens less than oh, say... Key West.



But I digress. She doesn't live on the beach. It's not far, though. 4.3 miles from her house to the beach at the old Coast Guard station according to Google maps. I've posted photos of the beach during past visits, but I thought I'd give you a little sample of how the everyday people live.

This is my mother's house. It's nice, it's comfy, it's beautifully decorated on the inside, but it's not on the beach.



And this is her houseguest philosophy. She's ~mumble, mumble, mumble~ years old so I suppose she's entitled to feel this way. ;-)





She has grass and shrubs and garden statuary like many people do. Here's "Frank" and a set of temple bells.




This is one side of her house and some positively gorgeous flowers called Agapanthus (also known as Lily of the Nile). Sadly, Huntsville is one cold-hardiness zone too far north for these to flourish. They could handle our summers, but not the winter.



And here's a close-up. Aren't they lovely? So you see, my mother has flowers, not sea oats growing in her yard.



She also has towering live oak trees. Because this is a barrier island, local ordinances prohibit cutting any tree with a diameter larger than a few inches. I guess they are afraid developers would chop away everything and the island would wash away. It could happen, you know.



She has spiders. I've seen plenty of geckos too. I'd be willing to bet there's a snake in the yard somewhere but I try not to dwell on that because I'd never set foot outside otherwise.



And there is the ever-present Spanish moss. It drips from everything -- the live oaks, her dogwood tree, the azaleas and camelias. And large chunks of it fall and get all over everything, like her backyard swing that hangs in the shade of a big live oak tree.




I hope you get a chance to visit St. Simons Island sometime (and the rest of the Golden Isles of Georgia too). It's a beautiful spot filled with history. The beaches aren't as pretty as our pre-oil spill Emerald Gulf Coast, but the wild Georgia shrimp here are to DIE for!

I'm back in town now and playing catch-up. I have mail to sort and bills to pay and dirty clothes to wash and an editor pitch to get ready for though I did get quite a few books from her line read during my time as Nurse Ratchett, Jr. (my younger sister holds the Senior title). The afternoon before I left I made one last jaunt to the Coast Guard beach and got there just in time for a storm with thunder and lightning to roll in.

Some beach.

Do any of YOUR relatives live in neat places?

P.S. Remember today is the last day to enter my "Red Hot Romance" contest.