Stephen Fry

One of my favorite things (take a moment while the Sound of Music plants its little earwig in your brain) is readin' good 'ritin'. Another is reading about the newest consumer technology.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages:
Stephen Fry's Blog.

Castles in the Air; Castles in the Sand

When we got up this morning and stepped out onto the balcony for our morning view (with high powered binoculars of course), we spotted some activity.

Building sand castles has long been a shore front pastime for kids with little shovels and little pails. And over the years we've seen some pretty spectacular creations often done by pro's who travel the sand castle circuit.

Who knew?

The evening, for our postprandial stroll, we popped down to the beach to get a closer look. The sun had gone down, but the castle was illuminated. And looked even better up close.

Then there was the inscription: Brianne will you marry me?

From the screaming that was going on when we got there, I'm guessing Brianne said yes.

Just 'nother day in paradise.

Good to go, thanks Beria

Things were fine. We'd been making decent time, turning off the interstate at any sign that flashed "antiques next exit" until Beria, Kentucky. That's pronounced "berry-ya" (okay "bury ya") a little town with a few antique shops and an artists' slash crafts colony. We pulled in for gas, filled up and... and... nothing! The engine wouldn't turn over. Click click click. So we did what any civilized person would do. Waited two minutes then tried again, because the car came with a self-healing option and those two minutes allowed ample time for repair.

Apparently I'd forgotten to pay for that particular option.

Numerous people offered to help, they're very friendly in Kentucky. One guy actually crawled under the car to whack my starter motor to beat it into submission (this works sometimes, I've done it myself). No go. Called the CAA/AAA and sat for forty minutes waiting for help. I was stalled in a fill up lane, blocking a pump and tried to push the car out of the way. Forget it. The girls inside at the cash desk were very understanding and said not to worry about it.

When Jim arrived with his flat bed, we (he) thought that it might just be the battery and gave me a boost and the engine turned over. Great! Signed the papers, he left, and so did we. Sort of. We got about thirty feet. Okay, back to the phone, and AAA's sending another truck. This time we opted for a tow to the Ford dealership.

Oh did I mention that everyone so far has been toothless.

Stereotypes abound but that includes southern hospitality.

At the dealership I was told that the battery was shot and that alternator would have to be replaced. They'd have to order it, probably get it by tomorrow and they'd drive us to a motel.

So it's Beria for the night. Motel close by with wireless access (but frankly the wireless at the Dealership was a lot better than the motel.)

Nevermind.

Next morning I walked over to check on progress and was told that we were good to go. The part had arrived at 4:00 am and the boys installed 'er when they came in at 7:00.

Good to go.