If I were a writer
I’d dredge up the dirt
The stuff that stifles dreams
And makes everyone cringe,
The grit that scours my heart.
I’d lay my soul bare
Grieve publicly
Take the blame.
Instead, I’m just a wannabe
Writing about nothing that matters
Where no one gets hurt.
Especially not me.
Statue of Sorrow by T.J. Fowler
I’m preparing to host guests for the weekend, so I’m not writing much today. Instead, I’ll share a few pictures from my weekend with Studly Doright in the Tampa-Clearwater area of Florida’s Gulf Coast.
We stayed in Safety Harbor at the Safety Harbor Resort and Spa, within easy walking distance to the charming town of Safety Harbor.
I love seeing a Little Free Library, and this one held a place of prominence in the town’s city park.
There were a number of terrific restaurants and casual dining spots along the Main Street, and after dark there was plenty of nightlife.
On Friday night we saw Steve Martin and Martin Short’s show, The Funniest Show in Town at the Moment. Well worth the price of admission.
And on Saturday we drove around the area picking out our future eight million dollar beach house (🤣🤣🤣), and roaming around the Madeira Beach boardwalk. We took a dolphin watching tour, but Studly was afraid I’d drop my phone overboard, so I have no proof of that. It was really cold out on the bay!
On Saturday evening we enjoyed the spa at our hotel. Safety Harbor Resort and Spa has two heated mineral spring-fed pools–one outdoor and the other indoor, as well as two hot tubs, saunas, and an unheated plunge pool. Since it was relatively cold outside, we chose the indoor heated pool. I swam for a long time, but Studly returned to our room to watch college basketball after taking a couple of laps.
Next time we visit I’ll make reservations for spa treatments at the hotel well in advance. Silly me thought we’d be able to schedule something when we checked in. The facilities looked amazing.
We drove home on Sunday morning just in time to watch the sun rise over Tampa Bay.
And that’s about it. Time for me to get up and around.
Take care, and as always, peace, people.
WordPress blogging friends, how does one turn off comments for a post?
Let’s keep this one simple and call it Sunrise Over Tampa.
https://nananoyz5forme.com/2014/10/21/roller-skates-and-sexual-innuendo/
The link above will take you to one of my most liked blog posts. Honestly, it’s not that it’s a terrific post, but the title includes the word “sex” and that makes all the difference.
Note to self: work the word sex into every single title from now on
Peace, people.
On Friday evening Studly Doright and I got to see Steve Martin and Martin Short perform at Ruth Eckerd Hall in Clearwater, Florida. I dressed up for the performance: Black dress, heels, and pearls.
Of course 98% of the other women in attendance were dressed casually, in jeans or slacks. Alternately, I felt overdressed and ultra chic. I enjoyed the disconnect.
There were two women around my age dressed in evening gowns. They’d also donned fascinators, that looked adorable, yet idiosyncratic. I made a point of telling them I thought they looked nice. I used the word fascinator, and they were impressed.
“Most people just say they like our hats. You knew they were fascinators.”
Well, of course I did.
The performance was everything I’d hoped it would be and then some. My heart almost stopped beating when Steve Martin simply walked onto the stage with no fanfare to begin the evening. I’d been dreading an opening act, then there he was, the comedian of my dreams. Steve Martin WAS the opening. Damn. How could the evening get any better?
Then Martin Short joined Steve Martin and, wow! Together they were golden. After some witty repartee, Steve Martin exited stage left and Martin Short had his time in the spotlight. The two were incredible, separately and together.
In two hours the pair endlessly enchanted and entertained, exchanging one liners faster than I could keep up. Studly and I recalled what we could as we drove from Clearwater to Tallahassee on Sunday morning, but we couldn’t come close to remembering their seemingly effortless give and take.
And lest I forget, Steve Martin played his banjo, as a solo performer as well as with a group of women billed as “The First Ladies of Bluegrass.” Absolutely outstanding. And Martin Short was a bagpipe. Yep, a bagpipe.
They were worth getting dressed up for.
Peace, people
I snapped this photo while Studly Doright enjoyed an ice cream cone at Madeira Beach.
Let’s call this one, I Enjoy Sophomoric Humor, So Sue Me.
Peace, people!
My husband and I have plans for a weekend getaway, and I’m a bit fidgety. You see, it’s a rare occasion when I can lure Studly Doright away from his weekend golf games. I’m excited, but there’s a great deal of pressure involved, too. How can I possibly compete with the opportunity for a birdie on the tenth hole? Okay, I know how, but do I really want to go there?
Should I have compiled a list of talking points? Or maybe perfected the art of eyelashes batted in adoration? I’ve done neither. Instead, I’m going to watch the scenery pass by through the passenger seat window and make astute comments about the sights I see. Maybe my witticisms will elicit a laugh or two.
This trip is proof that Studly loves me, though. He’s taking me to see Steve Martin and Martin Short at Ruth Eckerd Hall in Clearwater, Florida. This, in spite of the fact that he hates crowds and concerts and anything that requires him to dress up and sit for two hours in a crowded auditorium. In spite of the fact that he’d much rather be on a golf course.
On Saturday we’re going to explore the Clearwater/Tampa Bay area. There’ll be many hours of unstructured time. Again, I’ll feel the pressure to make sure he’s enjoying himself. Why do I internalize all these expectations? Am I alone in this dilemma?
Peace, people.
Studly and I are in Safety Harbor, Florida, exploring the lovely downtown area. We stopped for tacos and I snapped this picture inside the cafè.
Let’s call this, “Doing Epic Sh*t.”
A couple of days ago after posting a piece about falling iguanas in south Florida I was reminded by WordPress that I’d addressed the same issue in another post from the winter of 2018. Apparently I’d even worked a recipe for stew into the article. Go figure. Or, go cook.
https://nananoyz5forme.com/2018/01/06/forget-the-iguanas-stew/
Praying for Eyebrowz 