The rest of the weekend was nice. On Friday I took Bob to the golf course and dropped him off, then I did a little shopping--my favorite gift shop, Elysian Fields, where I took my time and looked at everything in the store, but didn't buy anything except a small astrological calendar and some scented balm. They have the most wonderful things there, but I try to be aware that whatever I buy I have to carry back with me, so I try just to look and not buy.

I also went to Barnes & Noble, which always seems a little silly, since they're everywhere, but I like to go to this one especially, to look at the Local Interest shelves. I ended up buying a couple of paperbacks, but nothing terribly compelling--just light reading for the beach.

Then I went back to the hotel and walked on the beach for a little while, had lunch at the beach bar, and it was time to go pick Bob up. We had dinner at another of our favorite places, The Seafood Shack, came back and took a walk on the beach, and went to bed early.

On Saturday morning Bob got up early and went out to the beach while I got ready, and when I came outside I saw him standing at the water's edge talking to a fisherman. He talked for a few minutes, then came up and met me--he said that he'd got to talking with the fisherman, and when the guy got a bite, he asked Bob if he wanted to land it. Well, "land it" is probably too grand a term--it was a really small fish, he said, but it was the first saltwater fish he'd ever caught, and it was pretty cool.

I took him to the golf course again, and did a little more shopping, this time hitting a local bookstore on St. Armand's Circle and buying a book about Celebration, which will be the second one I've read, and buying a t-shirt at Fresh Produce, and I think that's it. Since it was Saturday, we figured golf would be slower, so I wasn't planning on picking Bob up until close to 5:00.

I went back to the hotel, changed into a swimsuit and shorts, and hit the beach. I paid for a cabana rental and settled in with a book and a Piña Colada that I'd picked up at the bar, and had a really wonderful, relaxing afternoon. I could have stayed out longer, but I knew I was getting sunburned, so after a couple of hours I gathered up my stuff and went inside to shower and change, then went back down to the tiki bar and had a late lunch.

Bob called sometime after 4:00 and said he was finished, and I asked him if he'd had a snack in the bar as he'd planned, and he said that the kitchen at the country club was closed--they were having a party that night and they were getting ready for that. He was starving. So I went out to pick him up, and he said we should head directly for the restaurant. We had planned to have dinner again at Phillippi Creek.

I wasn't hungry at all, though, since I'd had such a late lunch assuming he would have something in the late afternoon, too, so we decided we'd go back to the hotel and have drinks at the tiki bar (we were becoming quite the regulars, obviously), and he could have something there, then we'd go out for a late dinner.

While we drove over the drawbridge to get to the hotel earlier, we had noticed a bunch of boats sitting in the bay--our hotel was on a key and was only reachable by the bridge. When Bob went up to the bar to get cigarettes, the bartender told him there was going to be a boat parade that night, and that the bridge would be up until it was finished. I thought, well, it was probably better to be stuck on this side rather than be outside and not be able to get back to the hotel, so we still thought we'd just wait and go out later, and we went back to the room.

We napped for an hour or so, then watched the "Parade of Boats" on local television--yachts and boats from miles around, strung with Christmas lights, parading through the bay. Not terribly compelling on television, though. It seemed to go on forever, and it must have been close to 9:30 before it was over. I still had to pack, and by that time I didn't have much interest in going out.

Bob had to get gas, and he said he'd get something for us to eat while he was out, and I'd stay and pack. It was actually kind of nice. I watched "Junior," which I'd never seen--a movie in which Arnold Schwarzenegger plays a scientist who experiments on himself and gets pregnant. Pretty stupid, really, but I enjoyed it. Bob came back with a grocery sack--sometime after he left he realized he only had $12 cash, and he ended up buying deli sandwiches and a bag of potato chips at the grocery store.

So our last night was a picnic in the hotel room--a turkey sandwich and a carton of orange juice for me. It wasn't bad at all, really. It was kind of fun. Just not what we would have done had we had a choice.

There wasn't time for much of anything on Sunday, just a brief visit to the beach, then breakfast at the hotel restaurant, and heading for the airport.

The trip home was uneventful, and we got home around 4:00. Pyewacket was overjoyed to see us, but then, she usually is. Dinah was more standoffish for the first couple of hours, but I finally realized she must have been pouting. None of our cats has ever done that, but I've heard of it--I think she was punishing us for having left her. After an hour or so, she jumped up on my lap and made up with me, and spent quite a long time with me.

I went to bed fairly early, and had thought she might come up with me, but she didn't. She doesn't usually, though, so I didn't think anything of it. I woke up once in the night and saw her (I thought) in her chair . . . I got up this morning and took my shower, then came back into the bedroom to find Pye cuddling with Bob. He asked me where Dinah was and I said I didn't know, she was probably sitting at the back door, where she usuallly is.

He said I should call her, that he wanted her up there, so I went to the head of the stairs and called . . . She answered me, but didn't come. I called again, and she cried, but still didn't come, so I went downstairs to see what the problem was. I didn't see her anywhere, so I called again, and she answered me . . . from inside the bathroom.

She'd been shut in the half bath downstairs all night. I felt terrible--here we'd been gone for ten days, and the first night we come back we shut her in the bathroom. Or me, rather, I guess. I hate to admit it, but I must have done it. She must have scooted in and I just didn't see her. So we made up, and she laid on my lap all morning, purring. She didn't punish me this time.

When Bob's dad picked us up at the airport, he said that the night before he and Bob's mother had come over to check on the cats, and couldn't find Dinah. They thought she might have slipped out the front door when Bob's mom opened it--it was dark, and Bob's dad was parking the car. They looked all over for her and finally found her under the bed, after what I'm sure was a few minutes of panic when they thought they were going to have to tell us they'd lost her.

So we're all home, all safe.