Klaus's birthday party at the yacht club was a huge success despite the rain showers. With the arrival of Salty Paws and Dyad the music combo is now complete, and Makaya and Free Bird get a break between stanzas. Having failed at the tambourine (ask Roland on KoKoMo for his opinion) I can report that I have mastered The Egg, a large plastic container once holding Easter candy but now serving as the Bahamian version of Marachas. Although absent from the festivities, Happy Birthday greetings are sent to Robin on Seabiscuit and Jay in Vero, formerly of Far Niente. Which reminds me, this is the anniversary of my face gashing. Two years later and I still can't feel a thing on the right side of my face where I was kissed by the razor rock, but thanks to my friend Doctor Bob, there is no evidence of the mishap.
The Super Bowl party was a washout. Mr. Parker failed to enlighten us about the 25 knots of wind from the Northwest and at Hog Cay, this is not a drab of fun. So, after rescheduling the foodfest for the following day, we turned on the TV to find CBS and the pregame show. Discovery joined us for a last minute get together and dinner and we all yawned through til half time, when the Ravens were kicking some serious butt. The following morning we listened to CNN's Super Bowl Update, but had to wait over an hour for a vague reference to the Raven's victory.
We gathered on a few boats for a pick up by Fickel for transport for the delayed party, now a luncheon. I had hoped for a healthy serving of the promised cracked lobster with all the traditional sides and internet sufficient to finally post pictures. I'll get over it.