Yesterday I unwittingly assumed red-state camouflage. We took the boat out for a picnic lunch, and I returned with my first sunburn in a decade. That used to be a rare occurrence with my darkish complexion, but years as a shut-in have left my skin ranging from the color of parchment to that of Muenster cheese. And now my lower arms and legs are bright pink. It's too elegant for words.
The lake's been strangely quiet, especially considering that Memorial Day is upon us. We saw more birds and turtles than people on our outing. We cruised by two properties for sale, one of them the oldest house in River Hills. Built in 1940 as a retreat for the Belk family, of department-store fame, they ended up retreating from it after a child drowned. A yacht club for years, it's now a home again - and a bargain, mostly because the current owners built a big new house in the backyard, which doesn't do much for the view.
Not such a steal is the other place, which perches demurely on the North Cackalackee side. Its claim to fame is that it was occupied by Mel Gibson while he was filming The Patriot. Perhaps he was drawn by the area's white, Christian demographic. Or by the refined architecture:
It's even ghastlier up close.
At night we're treated to an exotic serenade, courtesy of resident tree frogs. This convulses Dan and me with laughter, because they sound like the screamapillar from "The Simpsons."
And now, if you'll excuse me, my old fashioned awaits.
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