TO-BEE at TYBEE '23 - HAPPY TRANSPLANTS

                                     Tybeens are happy transplants.

 "Almost Heaven"

Spencer always chats up the service people and shop owners to see if they are native.  He asks if they live on Tybee, do they know what kind of work is available, and are they happy here.  Invariably, they came for a visit, went home to pack, then returned to take up permanent residence.   They're from Ohio, they came from Michigan, they left Boston, they traveled from the end of Tennessee, they brought their family from the middle of Texas!

They express their happiness and contentment in the names on their homes,  the gardens of their yards,  and the adornment of their mailboxes. 

  The Queen Bee

   These brought a smile -- the Queen Bee for me and the school bus mailbox for John who's a bus driver!

  Traveling the island streets, me with camera ready, they joking around, we took the golf cart everywhere.  Spencer paused cattywampus clogging half the street for me to frame and focus.  

John said, "Wow, Spencer!  If this had been an artery we'd be a heart attack!"

"Ah," Spencer replied, "if we were Mexican food this would've been a cleanout!'

This surf board mailbox complimented the Seafoam Shanty.

Spencer began making chicken noises, "Bawk, bawk, bawk."  He was teasing a lone chicken, then spied a clutch of them on the other side amongst the flowers.  "Now I know why the chicken crosses the road.  To get to the other chickens!"  

                                        It was true, LOL.

School House

"School House" on a fish plaque?  Clever I thought.  And a mailbox with barnacles?  Weird. 

Now, we're done with that, off to the Farmers Market.  We didn't even know they had such a thing, and it was fun eating frozen mango pops, buying Georgia olive oil, and checking out the native vegetables while listening to a local band.  

On the way home, still in the golf cart, our path goes right in front of the police station.  Spencer makes a minor vehicular mistake due to his inattentive chattiness and apologizes to no one in particular, "I'm sorry officer, I'm communicating."

John laughs and joins in, "He's only like this when he's been drinking!"

Sheesh, I'm glad we're just joking amongst ourselves and that there never was a policeman around.

"Yah, he's been drinking alright, half and half iced tea.  He's caffeinated!"

Can't stop the joviality.  Can't stop the son.  He's still determined To-Bee a Tybeen transplant.