Our Weekend, or, Ice Pack to the Nose

It all started innocently enough. Friday night we went out to dinner at a little cafe located on the St. John's River. At least I think it was the St. John's. There are so many bridges and waterways in Jacksonville, that I shall call all that is not the Atlantic, the St. John's River. We ate outside, and it overlooked a sweet little dock. Not particularly great, but we survived.


Saturday morning we did our run to the Farmer's Market. Always a joy. I could stay there all day. But, I've been told I have issues.

I have never mentioned before that I look forward to the ride to the market. We pass through an older neighborhood, and an establishment that makes perfect sense to me. Take a close look at this picture (click on it to get a big view). And, it is not a fluke. It has been set up this way each time we go by.

Nothing I would like more than to get ribs and my car washed. Really.

But, we don't stop, for what I'm convinced are probably the best ribs in the South. And we arrive at the market.

Farmer's Market

Here are the objects of Drew's affection. Unadulterated love. Pure.

Sweet melons

The line up

Lowe's Produce Stand

Sunday. Ahhhh. Sunday. We decided to take Petey to the beach. It had disaster written all over it. And that leads to the reason I am sitting here with an ice pack on my nose. I had good intentions. Really I did. It was going all right until we landed at the beach. I should of known things had taken a turn for the worse when Beach Bucky got knocked out of the back of the Tahoe and all of our water for the day splattered all over the parking lot. (For those that are following the escapades of Beach Bucky, he is doing fine. Lost a little cap, but I don't think any major damage was done.) Regroup. No harm done. No broken bones. No bruised bodies. Yet.

I can tell you about Petey, but I couldn't do it justice. Let's just say he is a free spirit. And he has no social skills. He gets excited and he dumps. So, 5 minutes out of the Tahoe, I'm looking at a pile of doggie-do. I didn't want to use my only plastic bag right out of the gate, so I spotted a discarded sand shovel close by a trash can. Perfect. Scoop and dispose. I begin the scoop process...Petey on the leash in one hand and the shovel in the other. I stooped down and just as I got almost all of the said do on the shovel, Petey lurched forward which in turn pulled me flat on my face. Literally. I was pulled straight out and my nose broke my fall. I was certain I broke it. There I was sprawled out face down on the ground, spitting sand and crying. And that is how Petey's big day at the beach started. Here are the pictures of his experience.

Morning sun.

Ocean dog...Petey

Drew took this one of a lonely surfer waiting for a morning wave. I was up the beach walking the wild man.

Surfer dude

Of course, the Atlantic Ocean.

Now you know why I'm sitting here with an ice pack on my nose. And why things are really starting to ache. What Doesn't Kill You Makes you Stronger. I have to remember that.


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