I love a good mystery! Give me some clues I can wrap my mind around and I'll develop a possible scenario. I can't help doing it. I believe it's innate and fueled by my insatiable desire to read at least one mystery book a week.
The Tiger Woods recent media splash is the jump start my mind needed to occupy itself during these dreary, cold days. I've considered the few facts we've been given, taken into account the personalities of the main characters, and factored in what research tells us about human nature. I've created a possible scenario that put the Woods family into the middle of the media blitz.
That early morning, Elin and Tiger got into a explosive argument about Tiger's indiscretions. Elin either suspected or knew of them for sometime. The claims of tabloids brought the situation to a head; a head that had been festering for a while. Fans are wondering why all the event happened in the wee hours. That's easy to explain. Parents wait until their are tucked in before they approach a delicate subject. The wealthy have an added wait until the domestics retire for the night. Early morning hours are the only time the Woodses could argue privately. Then again, maybe Tiger awaken to find Elin's side of the bed empty, went to investigate, and discovered her searching his desk for proof of his infidelities. Something started the emotional fire that eventually caused Tiger to crash, but not burn.
Fact: Elin smashed the windows of the Escalade. I believe she did, but BEFORE the wreck, not after as she said. During the argument, Elin is livid, more furious than Tiger has ever seen her. She is out of her mind with rage. First, she is a woman. She is hurt, humiliated, and filled with several other emotions we could imagine when she finds she's been betrayed. Her husband has taken a mistress while she's home bearing and caring for his children. I suspect more alleged mistresses will start emerging like cockroaches when the lights go out.
Second, she morphs into the enraged mother bear whose cubs are threatened. Elin is the one to protect the family's privacy and is especially vigilant of her children's exposure to the media. She tries to create a normal household in spite of her husband's fame and fortune. His actions will have the media circling the family like a school of piranha, ready to rip it apart. Elin knows this will happen if any word leaks that Tiger is an adulterer.
Third, she has a competitive streak. Tiger once said in an interview that Elin was more competitive than him. This is a woman that's not going to sit back and knit while Tiger goes on the hunt. She's going to fight anyone who wrongs her.
During the row, Elin confronts Tiger with what she knows and what she thinks of him as a man, a father, and a husband. Since Tiger's guilty as all-get-out and Elin has the goods, his best defense is no defense. Elin has the Tiger by the tail. The champ decides he had better leave the house until Elin returns to her senses or he leaves to initiate damage control measures. The fight or flight theory at it's finest. Tiger goes to his SUV (flight) and Elin follows (fight). On her way out, she grabs a golf club from a bag in the garage. As her husband rolls down the driveway, Elin smashes a window and then another. The distraction causes Tiger to veer into the hydrant and tree. You see, Tiger can't drive a golf ball unless he has complete silence. That's why his caddy berates those that don't give Tiger his due. Distractions cause him to drive his ball erratically, apparently his SUV's too.
Fact: Most of the damage to the SUV was on the passenger's side. No account I read states that the driver's door was jammed. So why was it necessary for Elin to break both back windows to free him as was claimed? OK, maybe the car doors automatically lock at a certain speed. Wouldn't one window have been enough to pop the locks? Free him from what? The airbags didn't deploy and the most damage was on the opposite side from where Tiger sat. Photos of the windows show sharp shards of glass jutting from the frames. Obviously, Woods wasn't rescued by pulling him out through a window. I haven't read anywhere how she supposedly got him out.
Fact: Elin had a golf club. Where did she get it? Out of the back of the SUV? If the cargo area was unlocked, the other doors would have been, also. Why break two windows then? She ran down the driveway after hearing the crash, inspected the damaged, and accessed the situation. Realizing that she needed to free Tiger, she ran back to the house an grabbed a golf club. Not likely for a number of reasons. Elin heard the crash and thought she might need the club so she grabbed it before she ran to Tiger's aid. That doesn't wash either. Readers, she already had the club because she had been ATTACKING the car as Tiger ran for cover.
Before the emergency people started arriving, Elin concocted the rescue story to explain why she was at the scene so fast, had a club, and why the SUV's windows were broken out. She shifted into her mother bear mode to protect her family.....Tiger may have been included.
As more of the drama unfolds, I'm anxious to see how close my scenario comes to what really happened in that posh neighborhood in the wee hours. How close do you think I've come to being right? Leave a comment and let me know.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Chewing the Fat About Airplane Seats
I have some thoughts that I want to share on the following topic. Please feel free to make your comments. I’m interested in what you think. Maybe we can start a movement!
PLANE SEATING: I flew to Florida this past weekend and was unpleasantly reminded about why I don’t like flying that much. On the first leg of the trip, I was seating next to a large woman mummy-wrapped in a blanket so she looked like a gigantic, white grub. The seats dividing armrest was up since lowering it could have lopped off a sizeable chuck of her body, that which was puddled on my seat. I sat huddled on the aisle corner of my seat for the flight while she was all comfy.
On the second leg, I sat next to a large, young girl wearing short shorts which exposed lots of bare thigh. Her chubby arms puffed out of a short sleeved T-shirt. She looked like she just left the gym after her afternoon workout. She was in the window seat and I was on the aisle. Her body was turned in the seat with her left hip overlapping my seat because she couldn’t sit facing directly forward. Several times during the flight, her hip, bare thigh, or exposed arm was against me. Sorry, I like my personal space so after several illicit contacts, I lowered the armrest. It was a “drawing a line in the sand” kind of move. Keep your body parts on your own side. I had to restrain myself from regressing to my childhood auto backseat behavior and screaming, “She’s touching me! She’s touching me! Tell her to stop!” to the flight attendant.
The airline industry needs to replace those (many times) too small plane seats. Most of the jets flying are older and seat specifications when they are built aren’t suitable for today’s flyers. Obesity in our country is on the rise and has been for years. Unfortunately, the size of plane seats hasn’t kept pace with the increasing size of passengers’ butts. Those that have had their seat infringed upon have clambered that super-sized passengers should purchase two seats or fly first-class where the seats are wider. Both of those options are expensive and not popular choices. I have a better and less costly solution.
Congress should pass a Seat-use Reimbursement Law whereby the encroacher has to pay his seatmate for the portion of the cushion used. A "you splay, you pay" deal. For instance, all plane seat cushions would have ruler images printed on them. When the hefty sits, any flab or body part that rests on or hangs over the opposite seat will be measured using the ruler with the reimbursement amount increasing on a sliding scale. Your flab is occupying $50 worth of MY paid seat. Ante up. I suspect that a lot of jumbos will gather their saddlebags and corral them in their personal space rather than pay. If not, the squashed passenger will collect some bucks for his uncomfortable ride, at least.
PLANE SEATING: I flew to Florida this past weekend and was unpleasantly reminded about why I don’t like flying that much. On the first leg of the trip, I was seating next to a large woman mummy-wrapped in a blanket so she looked like a gigantic, white grub. The seats dividing armrest was up since lowering it could have lopped off a sizeable chuck of her body, that which was puddled on my seat. I sat huddled on the aisle corner of my seat for the flight while she was all comfy.
On the second leg, I sat next to a large, young girl wearing short shorts which exposed lots of bare thigh. Her chubby arms puffed out of a short sleeved T-shirt. She looked like she just left the gym after her afternoon workout. She was in the window seat and I was on the aisle. Her body was turned in the seat with her left hip overlapping my seat because she couldn’t sit facing directly forward. Several times during the flight, her hip, bare thigh, or exposed arm was against me. Sorry, I like my personal space so after several illicit contacts, I lowered the armrest. It was a “drawing a line in the sand” kind of move. Keep your body parts on your own side. I had to restrain myself from regressing to my childhood auto backseat behavior and screaming, “She’s touching me! She’s touching me! Tell her to stop!” to the flight attendant.
The airline industry needs to replace those (many times) too small plane seats. Most of the jets flying are older and seat specifications when they are built aren’t suitable for today’s flyers. Obesity in our country is on the rise and has been for years. Unfortunately, the size of plane seats hasn’t kept pace with the increasing size of passengers’ butts. Those that have had their seat infringed upon have clambered that super-sized passengers should purchase two seats or fly first-class where the seats are wider. Both of those options are expensive and not popular choices. I have a better and less costly solution.
Congress should pass a Seat-use Reimbursement Law whereby the encroacher has to pay his seatmate for the portion of the cushion used. A "you splay, you pay" deal. For instance, all plane seat cushions would have ruler images printed on them. When the hefty sits, any flab or body part that rests on or hangs over the opposite seat will be measured using the ruler with the reimbursement amount increasing on a sliding scale. Your flab is occupying $50 worth of MY paid seat. Ante up. I suspect that a lot of jumbos will gather their saddlebags and corral them in their personal space rather than pay. If not, the squashed passenger will collect some bucks for his uncomfortable ride, at least.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Experience Necessary
“Experience necessary.” We’ve all heard and seen that phrase at one point or another when searching for a job. What has always bothered me is, if so many employers want experienced people, where does one begin on the ground floor?
When I was in high school and wanted a summer job, I checked the classifieds. Those two words showed up in ads for a filing clerk, a data entry position, and salon hair washer girl. Now, how hard is it to learn to file papers and charts alphabetically or any other way for that matter? Match the “a” with the “a” and drop it in the bin!
Data entry is sitting a keyboard typing all day. I understand requiring a certain typing speed over whether one has used a particular data saving program. Data entry is usually a repetitive process, entering names and address or such, into a pre-designed form. Show me once and turn me loose. I was on my way to college so I had some smarts and the ability to learn.
I was tempted to interview at the salon and claim my “experience” was washing my own hair every day from the time I was old enough to do it myself. Or, that my dog thinks I’m a talented shampooer. What could an “inexperienced” washer do to cause a catastrophe? Test the water temperature, wet the head, apply the shampoo, massage, rinse. Stop massaging if you see clumps of hair sticking to your fingers. Report any lice nits or scurrying insects you discover to the salon operator then try to refrain from continually scratching your own scalp for the next two days. The job would be a snap.
I’m not against experience at all for some jobs like piloting a plane. I’d have a hard time staying in my seat if the flight attendant made an announcement congratulating the passengers on being the first load that Captain Jack has flown. My brother is a pilot and I know that he practiced in a flight simulator …on the ground. I think it’s like a sophisticated arcade game where the instructor makes bad things happen to the plane. If the pilot-in-training botches the remedy maneuvers, the computer plane crashes and burns. No points for that. If the novice racks up a certain number of points, his prize is a real jumbo jet full of unsuspecting travelers. The saving grace is that airplanes today have the auto-pilot option that not only flies the plane, but it can perform take-offs and landings. The jet my brother flies can even find its way to a certain gate at any given airport once the auto-pilot is programmed. Who makes more mistakes, humans or computers? Let the computer fly the plane!
A curious twist to the “experience necessary” thing rears its ugly head in our public schools, at least in Western Pennsylvania. A school district will call a substitute numerous times to teach a variety of grades and subjects. When a position opens for which the substitute is qualified, the district will hire a new college graduate because he will be on the lowest level of the salary scale. I was told by an administrator that this hiring practice gets the school an inexpensive teacher and retains an experienced substitute. That is until the sub realizes what happened and tells the district to take its sub job and shove it.
If a teacher with experience applies for a job, he will be offered the slot if he agrees to forget about years of experience and accept the base salary. With teaching jobs scarce here, the unemployed jump at the opportunity. The districts love this situation.
There are several career positions where experience is appreciated and valued enough that employers pay accordingly. I won’t list them all, but prostitution is most likely one of them.
When I was in high school and wanted a summer job, I checked the classifieds. Those two words showed up in ads for a filing clerk, a data entry position, and salon hair washer girl. Now, how hard is it to learn to file papers and charts alphabetically or any other way for that matter? Match the “a” with the “a” and drop it in the bin!
Data entry is sitting a keyboard typing all day. I understand requiring a certain typing speed over whether one has used a particular data saving program. Data entry is usually a repetitive process, entering names and address or such, into a pre-designed form. Show me once and turn me loose. I was on my way to college so I had some smarts and the ability to learn.
I was tempted to interview at the salon and claim my “experience” was washing my own hair every day from the time I was old enough to do it myself. Or, that my dog thinks I’m a talented shampooer. What could an “inexperienced” washer do to cause a catastrophe? Test the water temperature, wet the head, apply the shampoo, massage, rinse. Stop massaging if you see clumps of hair sticking to your fingers. Report any lice nits or scurrying insects you discover to the salon operator then try to refrain from continually scratching your own scalp for the next two days. The job would be a snap.
I’m not against experience at all for some jobs like piloting a plane. I’d have a hard time staying in my seat if the flight attendant made an announcement congratulating the passengers on being the first load that Captain Jack has flown. My brother is a pilot and I know that he practiced in a flight simulator …on the ground. I think it’s like a sophisticated arcade game where the instructor makes bad things happen to the plane. If the pilot-in-training botches the remedy maneuvers, the computer plane crashes and burns. No points for that. If the novice racks up a certain number of points, his prize is a real jumbo jet full of unsuspecting travelers. The saving grace is that airplanes today have the auto-pilot option that not only flies the plane, but it can perform take-offs and landings. The jet my brother flies can even find its way to a certain gate at any given airport once the auto-pilot is programmed. Who makes more mistakes, humans or computers? Let the computer fly the plane!
A curious twist to the “experience necessary” thing rears its ugly head in our public schools, at least in Western Pennsylvania. A school district will call a substitute numerous times to teach a variety of grades and subjects. When a position opens for which the substitute is qualified, the district will hire a new college graduate because he will be on the lowest level of the salary scale. I was told by an administrator that this hiring practice gets the school an inexpensive teacher and retains an experienced substitute. That is until the sub realizes what happened and tells the district to take its sub job and shove it.
If a teacher with experience applies for a job, he will be offered the slot if he agrees to forget about years of experience and accept the base salary. With teaching jobs scarce here, the unemployed jump at the opportunity. The districts love this situation.
There are several career positions where experience is appreciated and valued enough that employers pay accordingly. I won’t list them all, but prostitution is most likely one of them.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
My Bucket List
Some people wish to climb Mt. Everest or snorkel the Great Barrier Reef or have some other lofty goal that they will attain someday. I know I’ll never be able to afford to climb Everest or to even buy a plane ticket to Australia so my “bucket list” consists of less stupendous aims. Even so, working through the items is most likely going to take courage, stamina, and work since they appear on the list at all.
Someday I’m going to…
…stop smoking little, peach cigars. I started smoking and drinking beer when I played golf with the guys. I gave up the beer. It would have been healthier if I would have ditched the butts.
…have the small dents and scratches repaired on my car so that careless drivers have a “clean slate” of sorts. It’s more fun to nick a car with pristine paint.
…learn to pluck my eyebrows with my glasses on so that I can see how I end up with lopsided, almost nonexistent brows.
…learn to paint my fingernails so they don’t look like I used a roller to apply the color.
…have a makeover. I want to see if a makeup artist can paint me up to look like the models I see in magazines. I think they use spray guns.
…clean the walk-in closet that I can’t walk into. I know I’ll want something that’s in there someday so I don’t want to give away my high school wardrobe just yet.
…take an unopened bag of dog food that’s been in my garage for months to the Humane Society. It’s a good thing the doggies aren’t depending on me for nourishment daily.
…fill the spa with water. It’s been empty so long I don’t remember why I siphoned the water out. Maybe it was to save someone from drowning. I better check under the cover for a body first.
…wear underwear when I’m cleaning the house. I hate housework and for some reason going commando makes it bearable…or is it bareable? It’s also the waste of clean undies. I’m actually saving electricity, gas, soap, and water …my part in “going green.”
…get a hole-in-one when golfing. I’ve come close. When I get it, I’ll be quitting golf because the game will have gotten too easy for me.
…lose 30 pounds and reward myself with a convertible. My hairdresser said, “Why the 30 pounds? You can fit in a convertible now.” Dah!
…win more than $5 on a lottery ticket. I’ve scratched more than an elephant with hives. Surely, the clerk will accidentally give me a big winner one day.
…quit letting my five pound Yorkie boss me around. She barks her orders when she wants fed, to go outside, up on my lap, a tidbit from my plate, and to go to bed. If she’s tired, I’m to retire so she can go to her cage for the night. I sneak back downstairs when she’s sound asleep sometimes.
…make a list of all the valuable jewelry I have so when I’m dead the kids will know which pieces are worth fighting over.
…plant my decorative, outside flowers before June. How do you know that that frost was the last one? Don’t you have to wait until June to be sure it was?
…stop playing the Wall Street Survivor fantasy game and have the courage to invest real money. This is my Mt. Everest in regard to needing courage. Burying cash in a Mason jar in my backyard probably makes more sense.
…exercise every day for a whole week. I have this beautiful elliptical machine to use, but I hate to work hard walking and end up in the same room in which I started. Walking to the Dairy Queen is my idea of exercise.
…read a book explaining ice hockey. I need to know why the Pittsburgh Penguin players aren’t skating where I think they should be. And, isn’t “icing” the great stuff that goes on the top of cupcakes?
…schedule that colonoscopy I’m due to get. Last time I went I had an endoscopy, too. I made the nurse that called me a “double dipper” promise that the doctor wouldn’t use the same probe on both ends of my body. Hey, who knows what they do when you’re asleep.
…clean my car so Hubby quits writing his name in the dust on the dashboard.
Leave comment and tell me what’s on your bucket list. No fair listing lofty goals!
Someday I’m going to…
…stop smoking little, peach cigars. I started smoking and drinking beer when I played golf with the guys. I gave up the beer. It would have been healthier if I would have ditched the butts.
…have the small dents and scratches repaired on my car so that careless drivers have a “clean slate” of sorts. It’s more fun to nick a car with pristine paint.
…learn to pluck my eyebrows with my glasses on so that I can see how I end up with lopsided, almost nonexistent brows.
…learn to paint my fingernails so they don’t look like I used a roller to apply the color.
…have a makeover. I want to see if a makeup artist can paint me up to look like the models I see in magazines. I think they use spray guns.
…clean the walk-in closet that I can’t walk into. I know I’ll want something that’s in there someday so I don’t want to give away my high school wardrobe just yet.
…take an unopened bag of dog food that’s been in my garage for months to the Humane Society. It’s a good thing the doggies aren’t depending on me for nourishment daily.
…fill the spa with water. It’s been empty so long I don’t remember why I siphoned the water out. Maybe it was to save someone from drowning. I better check under the cover for a body first.
…wear underwear when I’m cleaning the house. I hate housework and for some reason going commando makes it bearable…or is it bareable? It’s also the waste of clean undies. I’m actually saving electricity, gas, soap, and water …my part in “going green.”
…get a hole-in-one when golfing. I’ve come close. When I get it, I’ll be quitting golf because the game will have gotten too easy for me.
…lose 30 pounds and reward myself with a convertible. My hairdresser said, “Why the 30 pounds? You can fit in a convertible now.” Dah!
…win more than $5 on a lottery ticket. I’ve scratched more than an elephant with hives. Surely, the clerk will accidentally give me a big winner one day.
…quit letting my five pound Yorkie boss me around. She barks her orders when she wants fed, to go outside, up on my lap, a tidbit from my plate, and to go to bed. If she’s tired, I’m to retire so she can go to her cage for the night. I sneak back downstairs when she’s sound asleep sometimes.
…make a list of all the valuable jewelry I have so when I’m dead the kids will know which pieces are worth fighting over.
…plant my decorative, outside flowers before June. How do you know that that frost was the last one? Don’t you have to wait until June to be sure it was?
…stop playing the Wall Street Survivor fantasy game and have the courage to invest real money. This is my Mt. Everest in regard to needing courage. Burying cash in a Mason jar in my backyard probably makes more sense.
…exercise every day for a whole week. I have this beautiful elliptical machine to use, but I hate to work hard walking and end up in the same room in which I started. Walking to the Dairy Queen is my idea of exercise.
…read a book explaining ice hockey. I need to know why the Pittsburgh Penguin players aren’t skating where I think they should be. And, isn’t “icing” the great stuff that goes on the top of cupcakes?
…schedule that colonoscopy I’m due to get. Last time I went I had an endoscopy, too. I made the nurse that called me a “double dipper” promise that the doctor wouldn’t use the same probe on both ends of my body. Hey, who knows what they do when you’re asleep.
…clean my car so Hubby quits writing his name in the dust on the dashboard.
Leave comment and tell me what’s on your bucket list. No fair listing lofty goals!
Sunday, May 3, 2009
It's Badge Award Day!
I'm giving special badge awards today and you don't want one. The No Common-sense Badge is awarded to the following people. May they wear their badges with pride.
A kitchen fire destroyed a man's house and killed his pet. Now, a grease fire can happen to anyone so he doesn't get a badge for starting it. His badge was earned for frying fish for his soon to be 15-year-old, ailing dog. Fried fish for a sick dog? Everyone knows fish is healthier for you when it's baked. Hey, buddy, when the fire started why didn't you grab the dog before you fled? Here's your badge!
A bank and a convenience store were robbed in a nearby town. Both suspects were apprehended due to the efforts of observant bystanders. The bank robber was tackled by a father/son team of garbage collectors. The store perp was followed home by a gasoline customer who called the police. What caught the attention of the witnesses? Both men walked through the parking lot wearing a handkerchief over his mouth and nose. A flawed modus operandi to be sure. Here are your badges, guys!
Four men are playing golf - individual scoring, not a scramble. Each hits his drive off the tee. Then, both carts are driven to the nearest ball and everyone waits for several minutes until that player hits his ball. Then, it's on to the second, third, and fourth ball. Three players sitting, waiting for one to hit. Why does the hitter need three spectators? Do they remind him that he needs to hit again because he's forgotten during the ride over? Are they there for assistance for when he says, "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up"? Maybe they shout cheers and sing fight songs to psych him up. I've seen walking golfers do the same thing. Boys, have you heard the term "ready golf'"? Go find your respective balls (that usually takes several minutes), grab a club, and hit! The sign that read, "A round should take a maximum of 4 1/2 hours" was hung for you to read. Here are your badges!
Speaking of golfers.... An amateur player gets out of the cart, gazes toward the green, checks the ball's lie, surveys his club selection, chooses one, takes a few practices swings, puts it back in the bag, chooses another, takes a few practice swings, gazes some more, puts the club in the bag and gets the first one back out, gazes some more, takes 10 practices swings, then stands motionless over the ball for several seconds. Hit the #%^& thing, already! This is the same routine he follows on every shot and his putting routine is equally long. Later in the clubhouse he complains about how slow the play was on the course. Here's your badge!
Purses, wallets, phones, i-Pods, cameras, money, jewelry, and sports equipment are some of the items that people report stolen out of their unlocked cars and gym lockers. I'll give you victims a No Common-sense Badge, but you really deserve the Crown of Stupidity.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Exploring Florida’s Nature Coast
I apologize that this site has not been updated in a month, but Hubby and I have been on the go. We started feeling the urgency to explore all that we wanted to before heading back to PA via Alexandria, VA, on April 2. We even made a “bucket list” to keep our travels focused.
Between Feb. 26 and Mar. 8, we went to Plant City twice for the annual Strawberry Festival which drew approx. 500,000 visitors over the 11 day schedule. The event included exhibits, vendors, livestock shows/auctions, amusement rides, and entertainment featuring local and famous performers including George Jones, Jeff Foxworthy, Randy Travis, Travis Tritt, and Jessica Simpson. Hey, the racing pigs were there, too! Free, but limited, bleacher seating is available for the big star shows if you’re willing to park your butt on a metal seat in the sun for 4+ hours until showtime. It’s healthier to buy a reserved seat ticket – for the metal folding chairs in the sun.
I bought a ½ case (6 pints) of strawberries for $6.95 and ate most of them myself. They were huge, juicy, and sweet. Can’t a deal like that in a supermarket!
My daughter and her family visited for a few days so we thought it would be fun to take the baby (almost two-years-old) to the Tarpons Springs Aquarium. She especially enjoyed the “petting pool” where she touched a turtle, a starfish, and a small shark. She also stroked a huge boa constrictor. After arriving at her PA home, she became ill and her doctor was concerned she had contracted salmonella from handling reptiles. Who’d a thought? Seems that 90% of all reptiles harbor the disease (turtles in particular) to which small children are extremely vulnerable. She could have contracted something from the dog poop-scooper spoon she put in her mouth on her grandfather’s watch, too. Then again, maybe she got something at our beach which is posted with “swimming prohibited” signs due E Coli-positive water samples. She just played in the sand! Next year, to be safe, we’ll give her a box of bio-hazardous materials infected with known diseases to play with so we’ll know how, when, and where she got a germ or two. The mysterious disease ran its course before the test results were returned and she’s fine now.
The 16th annual Weeki Wachee Swamp Fest is held at Linda Pedersen Park surrounded by thick vegetation and water. The festival grounds are accessed by crossing a bridge at which you’re asked to make a donation. Like when the billy goats had to pay the troll! The event celebrates the area’s marshy environs complete with cuisine such as alligator tail kabobs and swamp cabbage soup. The fest is family-oriented and draws over 8000 visitors. Arts and crafts vendors set tents next to environmental preservation and wildlife groups manning information booths. This year, a manatee family attended via the surrounding creek and was a big hit. I really wanted a rubber alligator hat, but they were too expensive. I’m saving to buy one next year.
No visit to Weeki Wachee (W.W. for short) is complete without taking in the live mermaid show at W.W. Springs State Park. Weeki Wachee, meaning “little spring” or “winding river,” was named by the Seminole Indians. More than 117 million gallons of clear water bubble out of the subterranean caverns daily, filling the basin that’s 100 ft. wide and of unknown depth. The spring water is 72° year round and flows out of the basin to form the 12 mile long W. W. River. The mermaid shows are viewed from a 400-seat submerged theater. The first mermaid shows began in 1947 with W.W.’s heyday beginning in 1959.
Buccaneer Bay, the state’s only spring fed water park operates adjacent to the basin and offers waterslides, swimming, a white sand beach, and picnic areas. Lots of scuba divers go there to learn and practice, also.
Hubby and I floated the W.W. River twice. Once we took the River Boat Cruise at the park and the second time we rented a canoe there and did the “Go with the Flow” trip. Imagine floating down a narrow, crystal clear river lined with palms, tall vines, and trees dripping moss. We were supposed to see varied wildlife, but noisy paddlers ruined that. I wasn’t keen on seeing alligators and snakes around my canoe anyway. Hubby professed to being an experienced canoer, but every time he did his Explorer Scout paddle maneuver, I ended up with a face full of shoreline vegetation. Of course, it was my fault the front of the canoe went in a different direction than the back and that we spent some time floating sideways. We did see eagles, osprey, hawks, turkey buzzards, two otters, and a snake in the claws of a hawk flying over us. Once I sat in a shallow spot of the river and ate a baggie of cherry tomatoes and some peanut butter crackers while working on my tan. Life doesn’t get any better than that.
We visited Busch Gardens, Africa in Tampa twice. Buy a one day ticket and the small print reads that you can return within 6 days FREE. Great deal! On the first visit, go to Guest Relations upon entering the park to get your second day tickets to avoid the late-day crowds. BG offers several extras worth investigating like an “eat your way through the park” pass or the 30% off all gift store purchases shopping pass. Short for time? Purchase a “jump-the-line” pass that allows you to cut in front of lines at all the popular rides – without getting beaten up! The passes have official names, but I like mine better. Hubby went for the eating pass and stuffed food in his mouth in front of me all day. He even sneaked away while I was shopping and ate desserts. Dieting with him around is a constant test of my mettle. We went on one roller coaster and Hubby said he felt he was having a heart attack after we got off. I thought he was kidding, but he was serious. I didn’t ask to ride anything else because if had an attack I’d have to load the truck by myself when we leave FL.
We’ve been to the Tampa Golf Show, the casino boat twice, and the New Port Richey Chasco and Native American Festivals, looked at real estate, and played lots of (bad) golf.
Golf is a weird game examples: Poor sand trap shots were adding too many strokes to my score so one evening I climbed into a greenside bunker and practiced by hitting 50-60 balls. Few landed where I aimed so I left with sand in my hair and down my bra, blisters on my hands, and more frustrated than before. I’ve used my “hand wedge” to get out of a few beaches since then. Yesterday, my ball landed in a greenside bunker after the third flubbed shot on the hole and I declared that I quit. After second thoughts, I decided to hit that darn ball out and jumped into the trap. No thinking, just hit the *@#^& thing. Out it flew in a drizzle of sand, softly landed, rolled 5 feet, and dropped into the hole. To all who were watching (the 18th hole) it was dang impressive, but I acted nonchalant. Wouldn’t want people to think the shot was more of luck than skill.
Locally, a woman had just finished a series of lessons and wanted the pro to take her onto the course to play. He didn’t think she was ready, but took her anyway. She got up on the tee of the first hole (par 3), of the first golf course she was ever on, and made her first swing. The ball soared, hit the green, and rolled into the cup for a hole-in-one. The pro was speechless (for a while) and the lady couldn’t understand all the excitement over one shot. It’s obvious she’s a newbie to the game and that golf isn’t fair.
Between Feb. 26 and Mar. 8, we went to Plant City twice for the annual Strawberry Festival which drew approx. 500,000 visitors over the 11 day schedule. The event included exhibits, vendors, livestock shows/auctions, amusement rides, and entertainment featuring local and famous performers including George Jones, Jeff Foxworthy, Randy Travis, Travis Tritt, and Jessica Simpson. Hey, the racing pigs were there, too! Free, but limited, bleacher seating is available for the big star shows if you’re willing to park your butt on a metal seat in the sun for 4+ hours until showtime. It’s healthier to buy a reserved seat ticket – for the metal folding chairs in the sun.
I bought a ½ case (6 pints) of strawberries for $6.95 and ate most of them myself. They were huge, juicy, and sweet. Can’t a deal like that in a supermarket!
My daughter and her family visited for a few days so we thought it would be fun to take the baby (almost two-years-old) to the Tarpons Springs Aquarium. She especially enjoyed the “petting pool” where she touched a turtle, a starfish, and a small shark. She also stroked a huge boa constrictor. After arriving at her PA home, she became ill and her doctor was concerned she had contracted salmonella from handling reptiles. Who’d a thought? Seems that 90% of all reptiles harbor the disease (turtles in particular) to which small children are extremely vulnerable. She could have contracted something from the dog poop-scooper spoon she put in her mouth on her grandfather’s watch, too. Then again, maybe she got something at our beach which is posted with “swimming prohibited” signs due E Coli-positive water samples. She just played in the sand! Next year, to be safe, we’ll give her a box of bio-hazardous materials infected with known diseases to play with so we’ll know how, when, and where she got a germ or two. The mysterious disease ran its course before the test results were returned and she’s fine now.
The 16th annual Weeki Wachee Swamp Fest is held at Linda Pedersen Park surrounded by thick vegetation and water. The festival grounds are accessed by crossing a bridge at which you’re asked to make a donation. Like when the billy goats had to pay the troll! The event celebrates the area’s marshy environs complete with cuisine such as alligator tail kabobs and swamp cabbage soup. The fest is family-oriented and draws over 8000 visitors. Arts and crafts vendors set tents next to environmental preservation and wildlife groups manning information booths. This year, a manatee family attended via the surrounding creek and was a big hit. I really wanted a rubber alligator hat, but they were too expensive. I’m saving to buy one next year.
No visit to Weeki Wachee (W.W. for short) is complete without taking in the live mermaid show at W.W. Springs State Park. Weeki Wachee, meaning “little spring” or “winding river,” was named by the Seminole Indians. More than 117 million gallons of clear water bubble out of the subterranean caverns daily, filling the basin that’s 100 ft. wide and of unknown depth. The spring water is 72° year round and flows out of the basin to form the 12 mile long W. W. River. The mermaid shows are viewed from a 400-seat submerged theater. The first mermaid shows began in 1947 with W.W.’s heyday beginning in 1959.
Buccaneer Bay, the state’s only spring fed water park operates adjacent to the basin and offers waterslides, swimming, a white sand beach, and picnic areas. Lots of scuba divers go there to learn and practice, also.
Hubby and I floated the W.W. River twice. Once we took the River Boat Cruise at the park and the second time we rented a canoe there and did the “Go with the Flow” trip. Imagine floating down a narrow, crystal clear river lined with palms, tall vines, and trees dripping moss. We were supposed to see varied wildlife, but noisy paddlers ruined that. I wasn’t keen on seeing alligators and snakes around my canoe anyway. Hubby professed to being an experienced canoer, but every time he did his Explorer Scout paddle maneuver, I ended up with a face full of shoreline vegetation. Of course, it was my fault the front of the canoe went in a different direction than the back and that we spent some time floating sideways. We did see eagles, osprey, hawks, turkey buzzards, two otters, and a snake in the claws of a hawk flying over us. Once I sat in a shallow spot of the river and ate a baggie of cherry tomatoes and some peanut butter crackers while working on my tan. Life doesn’t get any better than that.
We visited Busch Gardens, Africa in Tampa twice. Buy a one day ticket and the small print reads that you can return within 6 days FREE. Great deal! On the first visit, go to Guest Relations upon entering the park to get your second day tickets to avoid the late-day crowds. BG offers several extras worth investigating like an “eat your way through the park” pass or the 30% off all gift store purchases shopping pass. Short for time? Purchase a “jump-the-line” pass that allows you to cut in front of lines at all the popular rides – without getting beaten up! The passes have official names, but I like mine better. Hubby went for the eating pass and stuffed food in his mouth in front of me all day. He even sneaked away while I was shopping and ate desserts. Dieting with him around is a constant test of my mettle. We went on one roller coaster and Hubby said he felt he was having a heart attack after we got off. I thought he was kidding, but he was serious. I didn’t ask to ride anything else because if had an attack I’d have to load the truck by myself when we leave FL.
We’ve been to the Tampa Golf Show, the casino boat twice, and the New Port Richey Chasco and Native American Festivals, looked at real estate, and played lots of (bad) golf.
Golf is a weird game examples: Poor sand trap shots were adding too many strokes to my score so one evening I climbed into a greenside bunker and practiced by hitting 50-60 balls. Few landed where I aimed so I left with sand in my hair and down my bra, blisters on my hands, and more frustrated than before. I’ve used my “hand wedge” to get out of a few beaches since then. Yesterday, my ball landed in a greenside bunker after the third flubbed shot on the hole and I declared that I quit. After second thoughts, I decided to hit that darn ball out and jumped into the trap. No thinking, just hit the *@#^& thing. Out it flew in a drizzle of sand, softly landed, rolled 5 feet, and dropped into the hole. To all who were watching (the 18th hole) it was dang impressive, but I acted nonchalant. Wouldn’t want people to think the shot was more of luck than skill.
Locally, a woman had just finished a series of lessons and wanted the pro to take her onto the course to play. He didn’t think she was ready, but took her anyway. She got up on the tee of the first hole (par 3), of the first golf course she was ever on, and made her first swing. The ball soared, hit the green, and rolled into the cup for a hole-in-one. The pro was speechless (for a while) and the lady couldn’t understand all the excitement over one shot. It’s obvious she’s a newbie to the game and that golf isn’t fair.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
So This is Retirement....
I’m at the 62-year-old Pasco County Fair in Dade City sitting on metal bleachers with a huge funnel cake balanced on my lap waiting for the Robinson’s Racing Pigs show to begin. The wind blows the cake’s powdered sugar onto my navy shirt, Hubby’s right side, and the entire back (head to waist) of the man sitting in front of me. I imagine him stymied later as to how he got sugar-coated. Soon the likes of Hillary RodHAM Clinton and Al BOAR will speed around a wood-chip oval and swim a narrow trough for an Oreo cookie. The realization hits me like a lightening bolt. Not, “Life doesn’t get any better than this,” but “What the hell am I doing here?”
I’ve seen breeds of chickens and rabbits I never knew existed, but skipped the cow and pig barn. I’m a horse lover, but this fair has none. Unbelievable! I guess they’re in countryside stables waiting for the rodeo at the end of the week.
In my quest for finding interesting fair food, I discover the pot roast sundae, a bowl of mashed potatoes covered in pieces of roast, gravy, corn kernels, and topped with a cherry tomato. I don’t order one because I’ve had stomach problems since eating the chocolate-covered bacon at the state fair.
Next, it’s south to the Dunedin Arts and Crafts Festival. Most of the vendors I’ve seen before, but I bought two pendants. One is a buffalo head nickel with the metal cut away from the Indian head leaving the outside ring of the coin. A tiny feather is linked to the back of the Indian’s head.
The other pendant is a silver triangle with a red/black “stone” embedded in the middle made in Ireland. Actually, the stone is made from weeds. After the heather plant is no longer useful, the stems are collected, bundled, dyed, and compacted with 80 tons of pressure to form a hard material cut for jewelry. Leave it to the Irish to find a use for weeds.
We boarded the high speed shuttle vessel that took us to a floating casino 9.5 miles off the Port Richey shore. For a while, I played blackjack, my favorite card game and won $25. I don’t play big so I don’t win or lose big. I took that money and put it into a Pharaoh slot machine, also a favorite. I won $94 just before the return shuttle left so I hit land a winner. Hubby likes the floating casino because I HAVE to stop gambling at a certain time or miss the boat – literally.
We’ve finished our golf lessons and I’m not any better than before. However, now I know why I’ve hit a bad shot and can correct the mistake on the next one. They say it takes 6 weeks or so to improve after lessons. The timing dove-tails with the beginning of the PA golf season. I hope the money spent on lessons was a good investment.
I’ve seen breeds of chickens and rabbits I never knew existed, but skipped the cow and pig barn. I’m a horse lover, but this fair has none. Unbelievable! I guess they’re in countryside stables waiting for the rodeo at the end of the week.
In my quest for finding interesting fair food, I discover the pot roast sundae, a bowl of mashed potatoes covered in pieces of roast, gravy, corn kernels, and topped with a cherry tomato. I don’t order one because I’ve had stomach problems since eating the chocolate-covered bacon at the state fair.
Next, it’s south to the Dunedin Arts and Crafts Festival. Most of the vendors I’ve seen before, but I bought two pendants. One is a buffalo head nickel with the metal cut away from the Indian head leaving the outside ring of the coin. A tiny feather is linked to the back of the Indian’s head.
The other pendant is a silver triangle with a red/black “stone” embedded in the middle made in Ireland. Actually, the stone is made from weeds. After the heather plant is no longer useful, the stems are collected, bundled, dyed, and compacted with 80 tons of pressure to form a hard material cut for jewelry. Leave it to the Irish to find a use for weeds.
We boarded the high speed shuttle vessel that took us to a floating casino 9.5 miles off the Port Richey shore. For a while, I played blackjack, my favorite card game and won $25. I don’t play big so I don’t win or lose big. I took that money and put it into a Pharaoh slot machine, also a favorite. I won $94 just before the return shuttle left so I hit land a winner. Hubby likes the floating casino because I HAVE to stop gambling at a certain time or miss the boat – literally.
We’ve finished our golf lessons and I’m not any better than before. However, now I know why I’ve hit a bad shot and can correct the mistake on the next one. They say it takes 6 weeks or so to improve after lessons. The timing dove-tails with the beginning of the PA golf season. I hope the money spent on lessons was a good investment.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Bodies, Bulls, Chocolate-covered Bacon & Kumquats
The comedian, W. C. Fields, referred to his lady friend as his “little kumquat.” I was fairly sure a kumquat wasn’t a girlfriend so we drove east to Dade City for the 12th Annual Kumquat Festival to confirm my thoughts. Actually, kumquats are golden orange, citrus fruits about the size of grape tomatoes, believed to be native to China. Their growing season is mid November to March, and the majority of these little gems in the U.S. come from the Dade City area. Kumquats can be sweet (meiwa) or tart (nagami) depending on variety. Since kumquats are eaten whole, peel and all, with seeds optional, make sure you’re popping a sweet one into your mouth. I saw lots of sour kumquat carnage in the dirt outside the tasting tent. The tart ones are the best, though, for cooking and baking. Usually the whole fruit is ground into puree used for jams, jellies, salsas, chutneys, and marmalades. I ate the frozen pie and the cookies. These babies can be candied or used as decorations, also. Logon to http://www.kumquatgrowers.com/ for recipes and to order products.
No kumquat festival would be complete without a Kumquat Queen, arts & crafts show, wagon rides, music, food, and an antique car & truck show. This quirky, free-admission event was advertised on Tampa’s Super Bowl website of things-to-do and drew an estimated 30-40,000 attendees. And in case you’re wondering, my little kumquat, I did buy things including a handmade silver bracelet.
After receiving my charge card statement, I thought it best that our next activity wasn’t one where I’d be inclined to buy something I saw. We headed to Dr. Gunther von Hagens’ Body Worlds & The Story of the Heart at the Museum of Science and Industry (MOSI) in Tampa. He is the inventor of “plastination” and creator of all the Body Worlds exhibits. Plastination is a polymer preservation process where bodily fluids and soluble fat are extracted from a donated body (or body parts) and replaced with resins and compounds like silicon rubber providing elasticity. Then the body is posed in the best anatomical position for viewing and teaching. In the last process, the specimen is cured with light, heat, or gases to make it rigid and permanent. It’s easy to see how jam packed are bodies are with bones, muscles, and organs, etc. that all seem to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. von Hagens separates various body systems to display individually so the viewer can understand the whole as the sum of its parts. The plastinations of the circulatory and nervous systems were awesome in detail.
All the former bodies on display were of thin, well-toned people sporting visible six-pack abs (obvious sans skin). I secretly wondered what von Hagens would do with a fat body like mine. On a table on the outer edges of the exhibit, lay a large, one-inch thick slab with the appearance of whitish-colored marble. As I moved closer, I heard the museum employee say, “This obese person’s body was frozen solid and then it was sliced neck to feet to show all the fat that accumulates under the skin and in the cracks and crevices.” All-righty now, that answered my question! Skin wasn’t part of the exhibit anywhere, but that may change in time. One multi-tattooed and pierced, young lady has donated her body in hopes that her skin will be stretch-mounted in a large picture frame and viewed as art. www.bodyworlds.com
We explored the rest of the MOSI’s three display floors. It’s much like the Carnegie Science Center in Pittsburgh. I’ve been there so the MOSI didn’t capture my attention for the next three hours, but Hubby enjoyed himself. I was “scienced-out” long before he was ready to leave. I browsed the shops, but I didn’t buy anything. Honest.
One thing for sure about this area is that there is always something happening somewhere. Many times on the same day so we have had to choose our destinations wisely or double-up to save time and gas money. That’s what we did Friday when we spent the day at the Florida State Fair then drove 6 miles into Tampa for the Professional Bull Riders qualifier.
I can say that it was the first time I’ve ever been frisked and my purse searched before gaining admittance to a fairground. The need for such procedures was driven home when the man in line behind us tried to enter with a six-inch-blade knife in his pocket. Hubby saw the exchange while I was stuffing things back into my tiny purse. The teenagers in front of me got busted for concealing two cans of soda.
Passed the gate, we were funneled into the Expo Hall containing the vendor booths and lots of things to buy. I treated myself to an early Valentine’s Day gift of a silver pendant with a Larimar stone. I’ve wanted a piece of that rock since I first read about it two years ago.
I was on the lookout for some unusual fair cuisine I had read to expect. The Tornado Potato, deep-fried green beans, and deep-fried Pepsi didn’t turn my head because I was in search of chocolate-covered bacon. Hubby tried to discourage me from buying this expensive, heart-clogging snack, even threatened to call my doctor. The bacon is fried crisp and served in a plastic container like nachos but, with the reservoir full of chocolate. The combination is both sweet and salty like chocolate-covered peanuts. Hubby still makes gagging sounds when he remembers me eating it. www.floridastatefair.com
That night, the top 40 bull riders in the world were at the St. Pete Times Forum in Tampa to qualify for the Professional Bull Riders (PBR) Championship finals in Las Vegas later this year. I’ve seen bull riding on TV, but I had to lay eyes on the men that do this for a living. You’ve got to have a few spurs loose to climb on the back of a 1500+ pound beast with an attitude, tie yourself to it by one hand, and then try to stay alive for another 8 seconds while waving to the crowd with your free hand. And some of the bulls; Booger Butt, Super Beast, Alligator Chomp, and (my personal favorite) Chicken on a Chain, part-owned by the comedian known as Larry the Cable Guy. In my mind, I can see and hear him on a stage explaining how he named that bull. www.pbrnow.com
I often wonder how certain sports evolved because their descriptions sound so stupid. “O.K. strap these boards to your feet and hold on to this rope. I’m going to drive the boat 30 mph and pull you over the water. Trust me, it will be fun.” For the birth of bull riding, I imagine two cowboys standing at the bull pen posturing when one says, “I bet I can ride that big, ol’ bull one-handed.” I believe, without a doubt, that alcohol consumption played a major role in the beginnings of many sports.
No kumquat festival would be complete without a Kumquat Queen, arts & crafts show, wagon rides, music, food, and an antique car & truck show. This quirky, free-admission event was advertised on Tampa’s Super Bowl website of things-to-do and drew an estimated 30-40,000 attendees. And in case you’re wondering, my little kumquat, I did buy things including a handmade silver bracelet.
After receiving my charge card statement, I thought it best that our next activity wasn’t one where I’d be inclined to buy something I saw. We headed to Dr. Gunther von Hagens’ Body Worlds & The Story of the Heart at the Museum of Science and Industry (MOSI) in Tampa. He is the inventor of “plastination” and creator of all the Body Worlds exhibits. Plastination is a polymer preservation process where bodily fluids and soluble fat are extracted from a donated body (or body parts) and replaced with resins and compounds like silicon rubber providing elasticity. Then the body is posed in the best anatomical position for viewing and teaching. In the last process, the specimen is cured with light, heat, or gases to make it rigid and permanent. It’s easy to see how jam packed are bodies are with bones, muscles, and organs, etc. that all seem to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. von Hagens separates various body systems to display individually so the viewer can understand the whole as the sum of its parts. The plastinations of the circulatory and nervous systems were awesome in detail.
All the former bodies on display were of thin, well-toned people sporting visible six-pack abs (obvious sans skin). I secretly wondered what von Hagens would do with a fat body like mine. On a table on the outer edges of the exhibit, lay a large, one-inch thick slab with the appearance of whitish-colored marble. As I moved closer, I heard the museum employee say, “This obese person’s body was frozen solid and then it was sliced neck to feet to show all the fat that accumulates under the skin and in the cracks and crevices.” All-righty now, that answered my question! Skin wasn’t part of the exhibit anywhere, but that may change in time. One multi-tattooed and pierced, young lady has donated her body in hopes that her skin will be stretch-mounted in a large picture frame and viewed as art. www.bodyworlds.com
We explored the rest of the MOSI’s three display floors. It’s much like the Carnegie Science Center in Pittsburgh. I’ve been there so the MOSI didn’t capture my attention for the next three hours, but Hubby enjoyed himself. I was “scienced-out” long before he was ready to leave. I browsed the shops, but I didn’t buy anything. Honest.
One thing for sure about this area is that there is always something happening somewhere. Many times on the same day so we have had to choose our destinations wisely or double-up to save time and gas money. That’s what we did Friday when we spent the day at the Florida State Fair then drove 6 miles into Tampa for the Professional Bull Riders qualifier.
I can say that it was the first time I’ve ever been frisked and my purse searched before gaining admittance to a fairground. The need for such procedures was driven home when the man in line behind us tried to enter with a six-inch-blade knife in his pocket. Hubby saw the exchange while I was stuffing things back into my tiny purse. The teenagers in front of me got busted for concealing two cans of soda.
Passed the gate, we were funneled into the Expo Hall containing the vendor booths and lots of things to buy. I treated myself to an early Valentine’s Day gift of a silver pendant with a Larimar stone. I’ve wanted a piece of that rock since I first read about it two years ago.
I was on the lookout for some unusual fair cuisine I had read to expect. The Tornado Potato, deep-fried green beans, and deep-fried Pepsi didn’t turn my head because I was in search of chocolate-covered bacon. Hubby tried to discourage me from buying this expensive, heart-clogging snack, even threatened to call my doctor. The bacon is fried crisp and served in a plastic container like nachos but, with the reservoir full of chocolate. The combination is both sweet and salty like chocolate-covered peanuts. Hubby still makes gagging sounds when he remembers me eating it. www.floridastatefair.com
That night, the top 40 bull riders in the world were at the St. Pete Times Forum in Tampa to qualify for the Professional Bull Riders (PBR) Championship finals in Las Vegas later this year. I’ve seen bull riding on TV, but I had to lay eyes on the men that do this for a living. You’ve got to have a few spurs loose to climb on the back of a 1500+ pound beast with an attitude, tie yourself to it by one hand, and then try to stay alive for another 8 seconds while waving to the crowd with your free hand. And some of the bulls; Booger Butt, Super Beast, Alligator Chomp, and (my personal favorite) Chicken on a Chain, part-owned by the comedian known as Larry the Cable Guy. In my mind, I can see and hear him on a stage explaining how he named that bull. www.pbrnow.com
I often wonder how certain sports evolved because their descriptions sound so stupid. “O.K. strap these boards to your feet and hold on to this rope. I’m going to drive the boat 30 mph and pull you over the water. Trust me, it will be fun.” For the birth of bull riding, I imagine two cowboys standing at the bull pen posturing when one says, “I bet I can ride that big, ol’ bull one-handed.” I believe, without a doubt, that alcohol consumption played a major role in the beginnings of many sports.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Zigzagging Florida's West Coast
We're headed south again to St. Petersburg. No trip to this city is complete without visiting The Pier at the end of Second Avenue. The site has been a landmark since a railroad was connected to the half-mile wharf in 1889. There actually have been many piers here, but the famed Million Dollar Pier was replaced in 1973 by today's five-story, inverted pyramid design. It houses specialty shops, galleries, boutiques, various eating establishments, bars, and an aquarium. Pier visitors can fish, rent surrey bikes, hop a sightseeing boat or charter one, hand-feed wild pelicans, or get married on the water. The building is bathed now bathed in Super Bowl colors (blue and green), but will shine red or gold after Sunday's bowl winner is decided.
I bought an artist-signed, clay pot made in Ecuador from an archaeologist/shop owner who tells of great digging expeditions. It's the most expensive piece I own now, but clearly the most unique.
Moored to The Pier this month is the HMS Bounty (a replica) of the famed Mutiny on the Bounty writing and movie. Actually, it's the vessel used in the making of all the movie recreations of Captain Bligh and Fletcher Christian's confrontation is 1789.
Hubby and I boarded her, and I immediately decided that the old gal wasn't big enough for me to sail a sea or two. I fought claustrophobia below deck and stood where some sunlight could find me. Our personal guide explained life at sea, sailor superstitions, and modern day sayings that have origins on the briny. After listening to him, I think the saying out on a limb should mean the captain is using the bathroom. This is a family website so I can't write how the saying shake a leg supposedly originated.
We pointed the grill of our Ford F150 north for approx. 35 miles to Homosassa Springs Wildlife State Park. It's 210 acres of home to native Floridian creatures, and one of few places you can see West Indian manatees at close range 365 days/year. The park is named for the freshwater spring that produces millions of gallons of clear water an hour and whose outflow creates the Homosassa River.
Educational programs for both adults and children are offered daily. The Fish Bowl floating, underwater observatory allows visitors to see manatee and thousands of fish in their natural habitat. We were there at feeding time which is when keepers throw tons of leafy vegetables into the water next to the observatory windows. I got some great pix of the manatee chomping greens inches from my lens.
The park is a rehabilitation center for injured and orphaned manatee to re-acclimate before being returned to the wild. There is 1.1 mile of paved trails and boardwalks, and Pepper Creek Trail is a 1.5 mile, wheelchair-accessible path enjoyed by birdwatchers.
Hubby was excited the day we drove 48 minutes southeast to Tampa for adventure at the NFL Experience and a tour of Raymond James Stadium. The 18-year-old Experience is squatted in a parking lot adjacent to the venue and is a mecca for football fans of all ages. It's a festival featuring participatory games, a football card show, displays, kids' clinics, autograph sessions, food, entertainment, and pricey souvenirs. The NFL donates the proceeds to two sponsored Youth Education Towns (in Tampa) offering education and recreational facilities designed to improve academics and physical fitness, and job-related skills to at-risk kids.
Since we're old people, our most strenuous activity here was to have our picture taken in front of the Vince Lombardi Trophy. I liked the showcase full of passed Super Bowl rings. Talk about gaudy!
The stadium was Hubby's fav. The arena's bowels looked much like the ones I saw on a tour of Heinz Field. Once you've seen one, you've seen them all, I guess. Surprisingly, there are several areas that are unfinished with dirt floors and exposed ceilings. I think someone ran out of money.
Hubby commandeered the camera and snapped his way from the lofty 200 luxury suites to the gridiron, inside and out. Good thing it's a digital because the cost of film developing all those photos would equal the price of a Super Bowl ticket.
RJS opened in 1998 and normally seats 65,000. However, additional, temporary seating has been installed in the end zones for this game. I was disappointed that our tour didn't take us to Buccaneer Cove and the pirate ship. That's the only thing I wanted to see! The public balcony in front of the vessel was being readied for the media who will broadcast from there.
Hubby snagged up some blades of grass from the newly laid sod (we were told not to even step on it!) when no one was looking. He mailed them home to our green-thumbed daughter, asking her to grow a patch of Super Bowl history for him. When our son-in-law first saw the curious contents of the baggie, he commented that if it was marijuana we had sent them, we'd been really cheap!
Betwixt our day trips, we golf Hudson's surrounding courses and take lessons. Consequently, I have blisters on my fingers covered with white, medical tape. Add my arthritic thumb wrap and I look like a Tigress Woods. OK, maybe more like a physically handicapped player.
We've had some cold weather by Floridian norms - below 32 degrees at night and 50's - low 60's by day. BURRR! Right, Beaver Countians? Natives have had to uncloset the hooded parkas and thermal underwear. Fake fireplace logs are a hot commodity at Wal*Mart. The good part is that cool, windy days give me more time to read and write.
I bought an artist-signed, clay pot made in Ecuador from an archaeologist/shop owner who tells of great digging expeditions. It's the most expensive piece I own now, but clearly the most unique.
Moored to The Pier this month is the HMS Bounty (a replica) of the famed Mutiny on the Bounty writing and movie. Actually, it's the vessel used in the making of all the movie recreations of Captain Bligh and Fletcher Christian's confrontation is 1789.
Hubby and I boarded her, and I immediately decided that the old gal wasn't big enough for me to sail a sea or two. I fought claustrophobia below deck and stood where some sunlight could find me. Our personal guide explained life at sea, sailor superstitions, and modern day sayings that have origins on the briny. After listening to him, I think the saying out on a limb should mean the captain is using the bathroom. This is a family website so I can't write how the saying shake a leg supposedly originated.
We pointed the grill of our Ford F150 north for approx. 35 miles to Homosassa Springs Wildlife State Park. It's 210 acres of home to native Floridian creatures, and one of few places you can see West Indian manatees at close range 365 days/year. The park is named for the freshwater spring that produces millions of gallons of clear water an hour and whose outflow creates the Homosassa River.
Educational programs for both adults and children are offered daily. The Fish Bowl floating, underwater observatory allows visitors to see manatee and thousands of fish in their natural habitat. We were there at feeding time which is when keepers throw tons of leafy vegetables into the water next to the observatory windows. I got some great pix of the manatee chomping greens inches from my lens.
The park is a rehabilitation center for injured and orphaned manatee to re-acclimate before being returned to the wild. There is 1.1 mile of paved trails and boardwalks, and Pepper Creek Trail is a 1.5 mile, wheelchair-accessible path enjoyed by birdwatchers.
Hubby was excited the day we drove 48 minutes southeast to Tampa for adventure at the NFL Experience and a tour of Raymond James Stadium. The 18-year-old Experience is squatted in a parking lot adjacent to the venue and is a mecca for football fans of all ages. It's a festival featuring participatory games, a football card show, displays, kids' clinics, autograph sessions, food, entertainment, and pricey souvenirs. The NFL donates the proceeds to two sponsored Youth Education Towns (in Tampa) offering education and recreational facilities designed to improve academics and physical fitness, and job-related skills to at-risk kids.
Since we're old people, our most strenuous activity here was to have our picture taken in front of the Vince Lombardi Trophy. I liked the showcase full of passed Super Bowl rings. Talk about gaudy!
The stadium was Hubby's fav. The arena's bowels looked much like the ones I saw on a tour of Heinz Field. Once you've seen one, you've seen them all, I guess. Surprisingly, there are several areas that are unfinished with dirt floors and exposed ceilings. I think someone ran out of money.
Hubby commandeered the camera and snapped his way from the lofty 200 luxury suites to the gridiron, inside and out. Good thing it's a digital because the cost of film developing all those photos would equal the price of a Super Bowl ticket.
RJS opened in 1998 and normally seats 65,000. However, additional, temporary seating has been installed in the end zones for this game. I was disappointed that our tour didn't take us to Buccaneer Cove and the pirate ship. That's the only thing I wanted to see! The public balcony in front of the vessel was being readied for the media who will broadcast from there.
Hubby snagged up some blades of grass from the newly laid sod (we were told not to even step on it!) when no one was looking. He mailed them home to our green-thumbed daughter, asking her to grow a patch of Super Bowl history for him. When our son-in-law first saw the curious contents of the baggie, he commented that if it was marijuana we had sent them, we'd been really cheap!
Betwixt our day trips, we golf Hudson's surrounding courses and take lessons. Consequently, I have blisters on my fingers covered with white, medical tape. Add my arthritic thumb wrap and I look like a Tigress Woods. OK, maybe more like a physically handicapped player.
We've had some cold weather by Floridian norms - below 32 degrees at night and 50's - low 60's by day. BURRR! Right, Beaver Countians? Natives have had to uncloset the hooded parkas and thermal underwear. Fake fireplace logs are a hot commodity at Wal*Mart. The good part is that cool, windy days give me more time to read and write.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Snowbirds Fly
Lots has happened since my last post. I’ll get you caught up on our doings here in Hudson, Florida. I had a typical “man encounter” on the golf course when Hubby and I went to play one afternoon. We were paired with a single gentleman (I’ll call him that for now). While we were waiting to tee off, the starter mentioned something about golfing with a woman that looked so stylish (that was me in my new golfing garb). The single looked at me and said, “Fine, as long as you don’t talk or giggle when I’m hitting.”
Hubby immediately ducked behind the golf cart because he knows how angry I get when men say things to me that they wouldn’t say to a fellow male. Usually the comments infer that I don’t have the ability to play with the big guys, but this yoho was questioning my etiquette! I lasered him with my best “teacher look” and replied, “Fine, and men can’t fart or burp when I’m hitting.” He got the message as did the starter who nearly fell out of his cart trying to hide his laughter. I glared at his shocked expression for a few more seconds to underscore the intent. Mr. Golfer hit his drive low, left, short, and off the fairway. I hit one of the best drives of my life straight, long, and dead center in the fairway. ‘Nuff said. I hope I see him again after I finish my golf lessons with Ray Cisbani at The Links course. He’s a great teacher and has been selected as The St. Pete Times and Tampa Tribune’s “Golf Coach of the Year” three times.
One of our first stops was the USA Flea Market in Port Richey. It’s like the market in Rogers, Ohio, only it’s all indoors. This market has everything and anything, also. I bought a silver and turquoise bracelet.
We daytripped to Tarpon Springs, just south of us, twice. If you are ever in the area, take time to visit this town known as the “Sponge Capital of the World.” It was originally established in the 1880’s as a winter resort for wealthy Northerners, but the arrival of the Greek sponge divers in 1905 changed everything. By the 1930’s, the sponge industry was generating millions of dollars a year, and as the industry grew, tourism evolved with it.
Lining narrow Dodecanese Avenue in the Sponge Dock District and connecting streets are over 100 shops, restaurants, and sweet shops featuring French and Greek pastries that required all my willpower to pass. Dining options range from authentic Greek to French, Italian, and seafood. We ate Greek. I had spanokopita which is like a lasagna, but made with Phyllo dough, spinach, feta cheese, onions, and dill. The portion was delicious and too much to eat in one sitting.
My wilted Master Card was evidence that I had a great time shopping. I bought a vase (to add to my collection), olive oil base lotions and soaps, and a dress, all made in Greece. A vase sponge, shells and air plants I’ll use to create a unique planter for my son’s girlfriend. My granddaughter gets a Greek Evil Eye bracelet. The mati (ìÜôé), Greek for eye, is supposed to protect one from someone else casting a glare of envy or harm your way. By wearing an eye, the superstition is that the eye turns away or repels the envy or harm, taking away bad luck and bringing you good luck.
I couldn’t resist a vegetable ivory earrings and necklace set to add to my unusual jewelry collection. Tagua or vegetable ivory is the seed of the Ciclantacea Palm that grows in South American rain forests. The nuts used in the set I bought came from Equador.
Homemade soaps were also my weakness. My personal favorite is a honey, oatmeal, and goat’s milk bar made by Nina and sold in her tiny shop. The suds taste sweet! Hubby keeps telling me he smells a goat in the house.
I bought a Sacred Winds CD that features the pan flute, which is a traditional Native American instrument. With piano and orchestra accompaniment, it is truly the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. It’s music that “touches the heart and heals the soul.”
More Things to do in TP: visit antique shops and artists’ galleries; tour St. Nicholas Greek Othodox Cathedral; take a walking or trolley bus tour of the city; taste wines at the 1820 Castle Winery; walk, hike, bike, or roller blade the Pinellas Trail for 38 miles between TP and St. Petersburg; canoe and kayak, fish, or go to the beach.
Next we headed north to Crystal River in Citrus County, at the heart of the Nature Coast of Florida. When I was researching this area and making vacation plans, I decided that I was going to swim with manatee. We went during the Manatee Festival so there were hundreds of craftsmen and vendors. Instead of swimming with the manatee this trip, we opted to rent kayaks and encounter them from the perceived safety of a watercraft. This was our first kayaking experience and Hubby is hooked. The manatee were plentiful in the little inlet and canal we paddled which was rather unnerving for me. These mammals are huge! They swam beside us and underneath our kayaks in clear water 2-7 feet deep. Several surfaced next to Hubby’s craft, and he scratched their backs. I tried to get a photo, but I got so flustered I forgot how to take a pic with my phone. Hubby is yelling, “Don’t lose that phone! It’s our Internet connection.” I’m fumbling with the phone and the paddle in a rocking kayak when a manatee surfaced and blew water from it nostrils at me! It was scary, but a thrilling moment. Never did get any pix. We will definitely go back for another close encounter with these gentle giants.
At the craft vendors row, I bought a CD called Saxual Healing, featuring Mark Maxwell on the saxophone, one of my favorite instruments. I added a unique, handmade, quartz-bead bracelet and a silver and gold crab pendent necklace (my Zodiac sign) to my jewelry collection.
We headed southeast to the Seminole Hard Rock Resort Hotel and Casino in Tampa one day. Many of you know that I’m a semi-reformed casino junky so you’re not surprised. The casino is 90,000 sq. ft. and obviously doing well because it is hiring 3650 dealers. Its sister casino is in Hollywood, FL. Best have lots of money if you visit this establishment. The lowest limit blackjack table I saw was $15. I saw some tables where patrons were plunking down $150 a hand or more. Most of the slots were connected to some sort of progressive jackpot that effected your bonus spins whether you played the progressive game or not. The bonuses didn’t result in much money most times. I played one machine for hours and never figured out how the progressive option worked (no instructions). A guy sitting next to me tried to explain, but I don’t think he had a handle on it either. I won $100 on the bandit, but put it and more back in. Our next casino visit will be on the Sun Cruz Line (a ship) in Port Richey. Hopefully, I’ll do better at sea.
Hubby immediately ducked behind the golf cart because he knows how angry I get when men say things to me that they wouldn’t say to a fellow male. Usually the comments infer that I don’t have the ability to play with the big guys, but this yoho was questioning my etiquette! I lasered him with my best “teacher look” and replied, “Fine, and men can’t fart or burp when I’m hitting.” He got the message as did the starter who nearly fell out of his cart trying to hide his laughter. I glared at his shocked expression for a few more seconds to underscore the intent. Mr. Golfer hit his drive low, left, short, and off the fairway. I hit one of the best drives of my life straight, long, and dead center in the fairway. ‘Nuff said. I hope I see him again after I finish my golf lessons with Ray Cisbani at The Links course. He’s a great teacher and has been selected as The St. Pete Times and Tampa Tribune’s “Golf Coach of the Year” three times.
One of our first stops was the USA Flea Market in Port Richey. It’s like the market in Rogers, Ohio, only it’s all indoors. This market has everything and anything, also. I bought a silver and turquoise bracelet.
We daytripped to Tarpon Springs, just south of us, twice. If you are ever in the area, take time to visit this town known as the “Sponge Capital of the World.” It was originally established in the 1880’s as a winter resort for wealthy Northerners, but the arrival of the Greek sponge divers in 1905 changed everything. By the 1930’s, the sponge industry was generating millions of dollars a year, and as the industry grew, tourism evolved with it.
Lining narrow Dodecanese Avenue in the Sponge Dock District and connecting streets are over 100 shops, restaurants, and sweet shops featuring French and Greek pastries that required all my willpower to pass. Dining options range from authentic Greek to French, Italian, and seafood. We ate Greek. I had spanokopita which is like a lasagna, but made with Phyllo dough, spinach, feta cheese, onions, and dill. The portion was delicious and too much to eat in one sitting.
My wilted Master Card was evidence that I had a great time shopping. I bought a vase (to add to my collection), olive oil base lotions and soaps, and a dress, all made in Greece. A vase sponge, shells and air plants I’ll use to create a unique planter for my son’s girlfriend. My granddaughter gets a Greek Evil Eye bracelet. The mati (ìÜôé), Greek for eye, is supposed to protect one from someone else casting a glare of envy or harm your way. By wearing an eye, the superstition is that the eye turns away or repels the envy or harm, taking away bad luck and bringing you good luck.
I couldn’t resist a vegetable ivory earrings and necklace set to add to my unusual jewelry collection. Tagua or vegetable ivory is the seed of the Ciclantacea Palm that grows in South American rain forests. The nuts used in the set I bought came from Equador.
Homemade soaps were also my weakness. My personal favorite is a honey, oatmeal, and goat’s milk bar made by Nina and sold in her tiny shop. The suds taste sweet! Hubby keeps telling me he smells a goat in the house.
I bought a Sacred Winds CD that features the pan flute, which is a traditional Native American instrument. With piano and orchestra accompaniment, it is truly the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. It’s music that “touches the heart and heals the soul.”
More Things to do in TP: visit antique shops and artists’ galleries; tour St. Nicholas Greek Othodox Cathedral; take a walking or trolley bus tour of the city; taste wines at the 1820 Castle Winery; walk, hike, bike, or roller blade the Pinellas Trail for 38 miles between TP and St. Petersburg; canoe and kayak, fish, or go to the beach.
Next we headed north to Crystal River in Citrus County, at the heart of the Nature Coast of Florida. When I was researching this area and making vacation plans, I decided that I was going to swim with manatee. We went during the Manatee Festival so there were hundreds of craftsmen and vendors. Instead of swimming with the manatee this trip, we opted to rent kayaks and encounter them from the perceived safety of a watercraft. This was our first kayaking experience and Hubby is hooked. The manatee were plentiful in the little inlet and canal we paddled which was rather unnerving for me. These mammals are huge! They swam beside us and underneath our kayaks in clear water 2-7 feet deep. Several surfaced next to Hubby’s craft, and he scratched their backs. I tried to get a photo, but I got so flustered I forgot how to take a pic with my phone. Hubby is yelling, “Don’t lose that phone! It’s our Internet connection.” I’m fumbling with the phone and the paddle in a rocking kayak when a manatee surfaced and blew water from it nostrils at me! It was scary, but a thrilling moment. Never did get any pix. We will definitely go back for another close encounter with these gentle giants.
At the craft vendors row, I bought a CD called Saxual Healing, featuring Mark Maxwell on the saxophone, one of my favorite instruments. I added a unique, handmade, quartz-bead bracelet and a silver and gold crab pendent necklace (my Zodiac sign) to my jewelry collection.
We headed southeast to the Seminole Hard Rock Resort Hotel and Casino in Tampa one day. Many of you know that I’m a semi-reformed casino junky so you’re not surprised. The casino is 90,000 sq. ft. and obviously doing well because it is hiring 3650 dealers. Its sister casino is in Hollywood, FL. Best have lots of money if you visit this establishment. The lowest limit blackjack table I saw was $15. I saw some tables where patrons were plunking down $150 a hand or more. Most of the slots were connected to some sort of progressive jackpot that effected your bonus spins whether you played the progressive game or not. The bonuses didn’t result in much money most times. I played one machine for hours and never figured out how the progressive option worked (no instructions). A guy sitting next to me tried to explain, but I don’t think he had a handle on it either. I won $100 on the bandit, but put it and more back in. Our next casino visit will be on the Sun Cruz Line (a ship) in Port Richey. Hopefully, I’ll do better at sea.
Monday, January 5, 2009
The Snowbirds Have Landed
Readers,
I said I would never have a journal-type blog, but I've changed my mind. I want to share with you our adventures here in Florida. We arrived on Jan. 1 with little difficulty compared to our other road trips. The car door didn't slam on my arm and give me a giant hematoma that lasted for months, we didn't have our room search by the police because my husband was seen walking the dog near a car theft, the dogs didn't lock us out of a motel room (see a previous posting for that story), and no one tried to scam an elderly couple staying next to us to open the door to him in the middle of the night so he could rob them. Max (our doxie) didn't upchuck his kibbles even once, thanks to Dramamine.
This year we arrived at two accidents on Interstate 95 before the police. They were of the multi-car variety where someone hits the breaks and eight cars behind him suddenly link up like roller coaster cars. No one appeared to be seriously injured, but there were many unhappy campers. Clemson fans on the way to their team's bowl game in Tampa and senior snowbirds headed for warmer parts don't mix well on an interstate with a 70 mph speed limit of which no one obeys.
I finally breathed a sigh of relief when we saw that the house I rented over the Internet truly existed. My sister kept voicing her concerns over the holidays that the ad was a ruse and the photos were bogus. I've rented a condo and three houses using the Internet over the last couple of years and haven't been disappointed or conned on any of them. She told me that I'm due for trouble and would spend three months living in the pick-up truck with my hubby and two (left one with my dad) dogs. The house is in a development two miles south of Hudson on the Gulf coast, about 30 minutes north of Clearwater/St. Pete. The community layout is such that each house faces the street, but the back faces a canal. It's so relaxing to have my AM coffee on the rear patio and look out over the water. Today, a dolphin surfaced at our seawall! I'm told that dolphins don't usually come up the canals so the sighting was special. The house is well-equipped and stocked. I've found 50 rolls of toilet paper and an equal number of rolls of paper towels. The house cleaner must have a germ phobia because there are five large tubs of disinfecting wipes and enough bottled water to hydrate 100 camels. The kitchen has all the gadgets so the half of my kitchen that hubby packed was unnecessary. He got carried away this year with his preparedness. The giveaway was when two life jackets appeared in the garage during unloading. It's comforting to know that if a tsunami blankets the area, we will be able to swim to higher ground wearing our preservers.
During our first couple of days we familiarized ourselves with the area by locating all the necessities: a Publix (hubby's grocery store of choice), a Wal-Mart, a manicure/pedicure shop, the giant flea market, a Beall's outlet, and the golf courses. We're set, now. Other establishments will be found as needed like the emergency room of a local hospital. Last year I pulled an ab muscle pushing a broken down golf cart (long story). The muscle began spasming so I had to go to an emergency room where I stood for three hours waiting to be seen by a doctor. The receptionist apologized later for the long wait because she forgot I was there. The waiting room emptied three times except for me! I was hard to miss since I flinched with every spasm and couldn't bend to sit.
Today we played golf. Hubby insisted going to the course early to hit practice balls. I don't like to waste any good shots I might have in me on the range. He swings, I watch. Then we go onto the course and I beat the snot out of him. Today, we played to see who had to do the supper dishes (no dishwasher). Tomorrow we play the same course so I'm going to up the ante to who does the laundry. I know where NOT to go on the course now.
Other highlights: Our mail is being forwarded. Last year it was lost for a month before anyone in the US Postal Service could find it.
We discovered that the sofa is actually two recliners separated by a cushion. Probably not a big deal for anyone whose dog hasn't claimed the only free-standing recliner and is willing to bite to keep it.
No-see-'ems are nasty, nearly microscopic insects that bite.
The "Goodie Bar" ice cream vendor works the neighborhood.
I said I would never have a journal-type blog, but I've changed my mind. I want to share with you our adventures here in Florida. We arrived on Jan. 1 with little difficulty compared to our other road trips. The car door didn't slam on my arm and give me a giant hematoma that lasted for months, we didn't have our room search by the police because my husband was seen walking the dog near a car theft, the dogs didn't lock us out of a motel room (see a previous posting for that story), and no one tried to scam an elderly couple staying next to us to open the door to him in the middle of the night so he could rob them. Max (our doxie) didn't upchuck his kibbles even once, thanks to Dramamine.
This year we arrived at two accidents on Interstate 95 before the police. They were of the multi-car variety where someone hits the breaks and eight cars behind him suddenly link up like roller coaster cars. No one appeared to be seriously injured, but there were many unhappy campers. Clemson fans on the way to their team's bowl game in Tampa and senior snowbirds headed for warmer parts don't mix well on an interstate with a 70 mph speed limit of which no one obeys.
I finally breathed a sigh of relief when we saw that the house I rented over the Internet truly existed. My sister kept voicing her concerns over the holidays that the ad was a ruse and the photos were bogus. I've rented a condo and three houses using the Internet over the last couple of years and haven't been disappointed or conned on any of them. She told me that I'm due for trouble and would spend three months living in the pick-up truck with my hubby and two (left one with my dad) dogs. The house is in a development two miles south of Hudson on the Gulf coast, about 30 minutes north of Clearwater/St. Pete. The community layout is such that each house faces the street, but the back faces a canal. It's so relaxing to have my AM coffee on the rear patio and look out over the water. Today, a dolphin surfaced at our seawall! I'm told that dolphins don't usually come up the canals so the sighting was special. The house is well-equipped and stocked. I've found 50 rolls of toilet paper and an equal number of rolls of paper towels. The house cleaner must have a germ phobia because there are five large tubs of disinfecting wipes and enough bottled water to hydrate 100 camels. The kitchen has all the gadgets so the half of my kitchen that hubby packed was unnecessary. He got carried away this year with his preparedness. The giveaway was when two life jackets appeared in the garage during unloading. It's comforting to know that if a tsunami blankets the area, we will be able to swim to higher ground wearing our preservers.
During our first couple of days we familiarized ourselves with the area by locating all the necessities: a Publix (hubby's grocery store of choice), a Wal-Mart, a manicure/pedicure shop, the giant flea market, a Beall's outlet, and the golf courses. We're set, now. Other establishments will be found as needed like the emergency room of a local hospital. Last year I pulled an ab muscle pushing a broken down golf cart (long story). The muscle began spasming so I had to go to an emergency room where I stood for three hours waiting to be seen by a doctor. The receptionist apologized later for the long wait because she forgot I was there. The waiting room emptied three times except for me! I was hard to miss since I flinched with every spasm and couldn't bend to sit.
Today we played golf. Hubby insisted going to the course early to hit practice balls. I don't like to waste any good shots I might have in me on the range. He swings, I watch. Then we go onto the course and I beat the snot out of him. Today, we played to see who had to do the supper dishes (no dishwasher). Tomorrow we play the same course so I'm going to up the ante to who does the laundry. I know where NOT to go on the course now.
Other highlights: Our mail is being forwarded. Last year it was lost for a month before anyone in the US Postal Service could find it.
We discovered that the sofa is actually two recliners separated by a cushion. Probably not a big deal for anyone whose dog hasn't claimed the only free-standing recliner and is willing to bite to keep it.
No-see-'ems are nasty, nearly microscopic insects that bite.
The "Goodie Bar" ice cream vendor works the neighborhood.
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