beverly was the woman who cooked for us while we were there. she meant business. this is her preparing the snapper for our dinner:
all those white specks? scales from the fish that she swept off after cleaning the thing. she's the real deal.
rogray went on a drive around the property to take pictures of flowers:
if that's not enough postcard pleasure:
in the afternoon we went back to the beach but had to stop for our last pina colada:
while our drinks were being made rogray and his new bff, monkey2 hung out:
when we got back to the beach with drinks monkey1 was frolicking in the ocean, monkey 2 frolicked in the sand, the adult boys talked about something while the ladies just sat -- except for sisgo who became so obsessed with hunting for tiny, perfect shells that she neglected the whole family for her newfound obsession. there she is:
as the sun set on our final night in jamaica
we gathered around the pool before dinner. my father said something important, i'm sure:
my grandmother tried to convince us she wasn't cheating at scrabble (unlikely):
and the monkeys did a photo-shoot:
dinner arrived, a feast for kings and queens:
the champagne was opened:
glasses were raised and laughter was had by all.
the next day we were able to take one last visit to the beach before packing and getting on all of our flights back to all of our homes.
and as we left jamaica:
very relaxed:
and the sun set as we neared home:
the best end to the vacation came to me:
i kicked rogray's ass in scrabble.
i love jamaica!
