Body Wash v. Shampoo

I stepped into my shower at the Utah home, happy to be on vacation. Vacation from the mother of all vacations this summer covering 5 countries 2 continents and 36 days. It was good to be in my own shower. I wet my hair and instinctively reached for the blue bottle. To my confusion there were two blue bottles, one containing shampoo, the other body wash. I had been gone so long and stayed in so many different places with different toiletries that I forgot which was which.

At a Kibbutz at Nahsholim on the Mediterranean coast of Israel, the room was small and shower smaller. They made it simple for me. There was one bottle in the shower. I presumed that it was a catch all formula for shampoo, conditioner, body wash, toothpaste and drain cleaner. I found use in all applications. In a hotel at the Punakaiki resort on the South Island of New Zealand I mistakenly applied body lotion as conditioner. My hair wasn't any more manageable, but it did have a oily sheen and didn't dry out the rest of the trip. By the end of the trip I was reduced to grabbing a small bar soap and routinely addressing all of my shaving, tooth brushing, hair washing, deodorant applying and other hygiene needs.

And now, oh how good to be home in my own environment. But yet confused I shampooed with body wash and washed with shampoo. The remainder cleaned the grout and cleansed the drain.

25 Years Martha's Vineyard

25 years to eternity.  Hopefully I can convince Shelly to sign up for another year.  I think the day was sufficient to warrant an extension.  It is easy to be convincing when walking around the cobblestone laid sidewalks in the provincial town of Edgartown.   The harbor, lighthouse and beach walk was stunning and also yielded a very fruitful acquaintance, Nancy (her friends and family call her Nan).  Nan is a charming 86 year old we met galloping down the beach path barefoot with a warm smile and friendly disposition.  When our paths separated, she came calling after us, "Utah! Utah!" (that is how she knew us!), hailing us to show her new found treasure, the carcass of a Horseshoe Crab.  Declining the invitation to take the crustacean corpse home in our suitcase, she introduced us to her two daughters that have failed to provide Nan grandchildren, one of which recommended dinner at the Outermost Inn.  This proved to be a very profitable recommendation (details in Day 3).  The bookstore in particular was more of a curio shop and sparked ideas of a room we would like to have in our own home, filled with unique objects to examine, humorous and anecdotal stationary, uncommon books and the like.  Lunch at the Flower Garden cafe hit the spot with a true garden salad filled with everything from the garden of a backyard farmer.  The clam chowder was thick but rich with flavor and adequately warmed our tummies until our anniversary dinner.  An afternoon nap on the balcony of our room with the harbor view in the distance and the quiet town life below is just what the doctor ordered.  Donning our best evening attire, we dined at Alchemy.  Shelly looked stinning in her knee high black evening dress and fashionable pumps showing just the right amount of toe cleavage.  Her hair flowed beautifully and she was bejeweled just right, not over the top but appropriately adorned.  I am so glad I married a brunette.  The Movado watch was a perfect complement to Shelly's look and the evening was a total success as we enjoyed engaging conversation being in one another's company.

Cambodian Elephant Driver

Our driver was experienced, with twelve years under his rope belt. He held a stick with a nail protruding from the end, but he never had to use it on the soft portion of the tuskers pate. Instead, he played the leaf. Yes, that’s right, he placed a blade of grass between his lips and played kazoo-esque melodies that were soothing to both elephant and riders. At the end, we deposited our American tender in the perfect-fit pocket sewn on the back of his shirt below the nape, stitched for that sole purpose.