"I'm going to speak my mind because I have nothing to lose."--S.I. Hayakawa

Monday, November 23, 2009

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

There's that dad-ratted tourist again, the one who keeps getting into all the pictures.

Talk about a camera hog! Oops. We aren't talking weight here, people. We're talking about someone who crowds into every photo.

Oh, and did you notice the fashionable footwear on the dad-ratted tourist? Don't they look like light blue Mickey Mouse shoes? Well, they aren't. They are slip-on booties that all the tourists were required to wear over their street shoes. Here are my buds bootin' up:

That's Norman, Katy, and Kathy top left. Missy top right. And my own booted shoe on the bottom. Did you notice the twins are wearing identical striped shirts? Thank goodness they're in different colors.
Any why, you might ask, were we required to wear such protective booties? Because we were visiting this place:

Gasp. Ooooooooooooo.............Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

"This place" is the Catherine Palace near St. Petersburg, Russia. And the booties were to protect the exquisite parquet floors, some of which looked like this:

But back to camera hogs. I am reminded of a time I was at the Erickson Gold Mine in Girdwood, waiting around for my friends to wander back to the car. I started taking pix of this and that. A little girl saw me taking a photo of her stomping in mud puddles..........so she posed. I have no idea who she is, but I know for certain her mommy took lots of pictures of her. She was well-trained.

Oh, and by the

Ahem, ahem...

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday, dear Gullible,
Happy birthday to you.

So I ask you, if a gal can't post her picture on her blog on her birthday, taken in the Catherine Palace while wearing light blue Mickey Mouse booties, without feeling conceited, well, when can she?

If you're wondering, I'm either 48 or 68. Take your pick.

The 48 comes from how many years it's been since I decided to write Gullible's Travels and acquired the nom de plume, or nom de keyboard or whatever it's called these days.
The 68 comes from the year I caused my mother to miss Sunday evening chicken dinner at the hospital in Detroit.

Well, I hope this posts on the date I scheduled it for. I wrote it in late October while I was in Halibut Cove. If all goes well, I hope to be drinking a big Margarita and eating carne asada when you're reading it.



  1. Happy Birthday again dear friend....I posted on Facebook last night...I'll tip a red beer in your honor. Hugs!

  2. Are you sure that little girl stomping in the mud isn't you sixty some years ago?

    Happy day to you, my friend. How cool to be living it up on a vacation on your special day.

    Celebrate until you're about ready to fall over. Then excuse yourself and crawl into bed.