Thanks to the generosity of mine uncle, my family is staying at the Cloister at Sea Island, which is both a "five star resort" and an "ultimate spa escape."
Karl Rove is reported to have slept in the master bedroom where my parents are now staying. So far, they're not acting any differently, so I guess it's okay.
We crossed the bridge named for my ancestor, Sidney Lanier, who wrote:
Of the dim sweet woods, of the dear dark woods,
Of the heavenly woods and glades,
That run to the radiant marginal sand-beach within
The wide sea-marshes of Glynn
He looks quite a bit like my dad.
We went horseback riding on the beach first thing yesterday morning.
My horse's name was Talladega, and he wanted to eat the marshes of Glynn.
Hopefully the tide washed away Talladega's poo (nitrogenous waste, Dad reminded us), because my sis and I are going for a walk on the beach. And then we're going to check out the spa.
I'm only mildly afraid that they won't let us in . . .
