Our day and evening spent at Pearson's Cedar Creek Marina was a fun one. We took it easy during the afternoon, but still managed to meet some people passing by the boat, plus the owner of the marina came by and talked to us for a while. He looked just like any other worker there at the marina, dressed in an identical T-shirt as anyone else. Vern pitched in like any of his other employees and he could be seen doing all the various things that needed to be done including moving tables and pumping gas on occasion. Truly a man interested in running his business well.
The band started assembling their equipment right next to our boat, so by 6 P.M. we grabbed a convenient table and settled in with a bucket of icy cold Bud Lights.
Here you can see just how close we were parked as the band just started playing. I took the photo from another covered area with a bar and tables and by the time it got dark every table was full.
Here's another view from the area where you order your food. The items on the menu are ordered in the little store and cooked to order. They call your number and you come and git it. We didn't want anything heavy, so an order of sliders and a side of fries came out piping hot and filled us up just fine. Friday night was the catfish platter special and would have been plenty for two to eat.
We had watched a big houseboat fill up with guests for the weekend and load after load of beer coolers were carted down the dock along with one long legged blonde after another piled aboard. At the times when I wasn't paying rapt attention, Rosie would issue a bikini alert when a more particular attractive woman would arrive. My trusty sidekick is good about things like that. The houseboat cast off before dark with a ton of people on board and left us to fend for ourselves. We can't be invited to every good party.
The band was fun and played mostly rock and roll, lots of heavy metal with enough southern and classic rock to hold our attention and sing along after the third bucket of Bud Lights came and went.
We reluctantly gave up our two extra chairs to others, hoping we might be joined by some new friends, but except for two of the employees, Larry and Bobby, no one came by to have a seat.
I had to take this picture of Rosie before it got dark. She looked especially attractive in her black shorts and halter top, not to mention her growing tan. She was seen shaking her booty on the dance floor later, joining some of the other women, but there were so many kids on the dance floor too that it looked like a south St. Louis wedding reception. It's hard to maintain a 21 year old minimum at an outside marina party. I was a little nervous about Rosie's dancing, reminded about an incident at the Duck Club a few years ago when on a similar occasion Rosie's enthusiastic dancing almost got us kicked out.
One little nipper around 3 or 4 years old came up and asked if we wanted a beer. We declined and were tickled by his generosity until we found out that we misunderstood him. He asked if we wanted the beer. We learned that when he started to make off with our bucket of long necks, but only got it slid across the table towards him before I gently told him to leave it where it was. I really don't think we could have lifted it anyhow.
We brought Holly out for a look see at the action and several woman came by to coo at here and make nice. One guy with a pit bull came too close and I had to suggest that he back off some. His dog looked too interested in having Holly for an hors d'oeuvre. (Don't think I didn't use the dictionary to spell that one.)
The band quit fairly early due to the close proximity of houses in the area. We had been warned about how loud the music was going to be and our boat parked right there might not have been the best idea some people thought. Heck,we spent the last year parked next to the Bales at the Duck Club. We can handle anything.
Things quieted down early and we retreated to our nicely chilled cabin for a good nights sleep. Larry and Bobby both wanted to see us off in the morning but they didn't get on duty until 8 A.M. By seven we were ready to go and set off with hot coffee and a nice breakfast sandwich, the fried bologna and egg that I didn't get yesterday.
Rosie mopped dew off of Swing Set and I set a leisurely pace at 900 R.P.M., the batteries were charging nicely with our newly tightened alternator belts. Swing Set was sipping diesel fuel like a southern belle sips mint juleps on Derby Day. Of course, some of the belles I know are two fisted, downing cocktails in tumblers and wiping their lips with the back of their hands before asking for another.
I had a suspicion that we would encounter that big party houseboat somewhere we were headed and I was right. Two other boats had joined it last night and they were seen sitting in Two Foot Cove, the place too skinny to get our boat into. They appeared to be sleeping off a fun filled night. We have all weekend to catch up with them and I see a dinghy ride in our future.
Currently, we're sitting in Skinnydip Cove while I write this post and Rosie does her morning ritual. We'll be staying here for the weekend before fueling up on Monday or Tuesday and heading back downriver. If there are no posts for a couple of days it's because we are having "too much fun", a phrase that is also the name that our friend Don has given to two of his boats, and a worthy name at that.