Missed it by THAT much {Pt. 1}

I'm starting to wonder if it was something I said. Or didn't say. Or did. Or didn't do. Perhaps someone would prefer I not spend vacation time with M and P Bear. All I know for sure is that hurricanes have been hounding us when we get together this year. First it was Madame Fay down in Hocking Hills, with her widely scattered entrails making the sky more shades of gray than I thought were possible and alternating between spitting straight down on us and coming at us from the side with smaller, but faster moving, luges. {For the record, however, Tango and I rode through that one, albeit for a shorter period than I wanted, thanks to poor planning on my part and a devious tag team by T and Li'l Lotto involving Sierra Nevada.}

This time it was Miss Paloma. The back story: M & P Bear arrived on Grand Cayman on Friday, and on Saturday moved into the timeshare the Woodbutcher and Baker44 were kind enough to give them as an anniversary present. To give some perspective, here's a map and Plantation Village is just northwest of Georgetown, on the southern most edge of Seven Mile beach...yep, right on the ocean. Then the leaders of the Mumby Clan joined them on Sunday. From all accounts they got some pretty decent weather which they made of the most of with several snorkeling expeditions right out their front door. Perhaps they'll tell us about it here, if we ask nicely.

I arrived Wednesday afternoon with a little bit of a headache, doubtlessly caused by being over served while watching election returns with friends the night before and not sleeping fast enough in the 4 hours I allotted for that activity. It wasn't raining when I touched down but my cab driver said I had just missed a nasty deluge. This is good I thought...the weather is getting better now that I'm here. {HA!} After a little sleuthing I found the condo and Momma B was there. She said the gang was "just two doors down" at a pub eating lunch. I threw my bag in the corner and we headed out, me still wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt, despite the fact that it was 80 degrees and humid. Luckily, it promptly began to rain again, nice and hard, so the "2 door" quarter mile walk resulted in my being completely drenched. A perfect start to the vaca: soaking wet, drinking Guinness, eating conch fritters, regaling my fellow Local 476 members with stories of inner city polling places in Ohio. {Li'l Lotto and I were there as part of the AFL-CIO's election protection program mentioned in this article}. Next up was a 6-ish mile run with the Mumby Dad on Seven Mile Beach whilst discussing the finer points of Constitutional law, during occasional rain showers {natch}, then a sushi feast at a Thai place. Mmm Mmm good.

It rained overnight but the morning started relatively dry (sans any direct view of the sun, of course, because really, why would anyone expected to see the sun while on a Caribbean Island) and we headed out to swim with the stingrays and to snorkel a bit. CRIKEY! Good thing none of them 'rays stabbed us in the fleshy part of our heart! The stingrays were pretty cool, as you would expect, but after a few minutes they reminded me a little too much of pigeons swarming around the tourists for food. The snorkeling was apparently quite good too and thankfully Daddio managed to not swim too far away from the boat, despite what appeared to Momma B and me as his best efforts to the contrary. The Mumbys probably have some pretty cool pictures of this activity, so perhaps a polite inquiry will result in a little show and tell?

The Mumby Clan then beat feet to get the hell off the island after we learned, from our boat captain, that a serious storm was headed our way. Rats leaving a sinking ship? The remaining 'tamers spiffed up for dinner and got our eat on at Mezza's ... some lamb for Poppa B, seafood pasta for Momma B, and a fillet for me, accompanied by a nice bottle of meritage. Back at the condo we caught up with the latest news on Tropic Storm Paloma via TWC and CNN.

Hmmm, this could get interesting....