Once upon a time there was a boy who wanted to marry a girl. The girl was perfectly content to continuing living with him forever and ever without being married but the boy wore her down and she finally agreed. She said, “In January I’ll be going to Florida for a conference which ends on a Wednesday. You fly down Wednesday night and then we can get married on Friday.” It was agreed. The girl even ordered a dress appropriate for a Florida beach wedding. And it came to pass that one week after the girl paid for express delivery on the dress, since this was September already, the boy got a new job. New jobs that start in December do not accrue enough vacation time to go eloping in January.
So, today was supposed to be my wedding day. I am in Florida. My intended is not. I think that counts as him standing me up. I will abuse him for this as I see fit. He is also going to have to start the whole begging process all over again to get me to set another date although I do have a dress that needs used.
Instead of getting married I went to Sea World. I used to go to Sea World a lot as a kid when they had one in Ohio but I haven’t been since they realized that Ohio gets cold in the winter and moved to San Antonio.
I love this shot if I do say so myself.
The Clyde and Seamoore show was always my favorite. The sea lions and walrus did fine but the people and otter kept screwing up. Then the people got to laughing because everything was going wrong. It made it even funnier.
Of course there has to be turtles!
The show I was most impressed with was the pet show. They had trained dogs and rats and pigs and birds. Big deal. Anyone can train those. But this show had trained cats. Not lions. Just normal ole pussy cats like the layabouts who live in my house and don’t do any tricks at all. The show cats climbed ladders and walked wires and hung from ropes and went place to place and hit levers without anyone on stage guiding them. In other words they learned a bit of routine and then did it unsupervised without eating the birds or rats. I’m going to tell my lazy beasts about it. They’ll probably hurt themselves laughing.