Today was the shop picnic with the guys the husbeast works with, at a little park near the Santee Dam. (Yes. Every picnic spot needs a power plant belching crud into the sky, nearby. Don't ask me. I didn't pick the place.) As we were driving in, I spotted this:
And I wondered just how big a problem gators were in the area.
Apparently, it's about a six-foot problem. Several six-foot problems, really, but this is the one I got a good photo of:
All of the husbeast's work buddies were saying those were NOTHING, compared to Elvis, the gator that lives near where they work. Elvis likes to sun herself in the road and blocks whole lanes of traffic. People go out with forklifts and move her. (I almost took a picture of the kid feeding the one gator cold cuts, but figured it was bad manners to post photos of other people's children on the internet without permission. Call me silly. But there WAS a kid, early teens, feeding a gator cold cuts. Where was his mother?)
Otherwise, there wasn't much excitement. I ate a lot of chocolate cake and shook my head over alligators and we came home before the baby got too cranky. However, I did get a nice shot of some cypress trees.
Life in the south. Grits and gators. Good lord.
2 comments:
And the scary part is it just gets more fun from there.
You'd think they'd yell at the kid for feeding the gators. You wonder why they eat people...people mean BOLOGNA! YUMMY!
Post a Comment