There’s a cat sleeping on my lap.
I need to rise and shine, but I cannot do so. My legs are numb from the weight of her. In fact, it’s possible that everything from my hips down has atrophied. I’d likely topple over if I tried to stand, so for now I’m snuggled in bed with a cat on my lap.
There are far worse predicaments to be in. Maybe I’ll mediate while I’m here. Ommmm. Or call it yoga. I’ve heard of goat yoga, why not cat yoga? The Sleeping Cat Captive pose.
Peace, people.
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.
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
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.
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/
If you’re a blogger do you find that sometimes titles for blog posts pop into your head? You might not have anything in mind to write about, then, wham! I have that happen all the time, and sometimes the titles even develop into something that’s printable.
Right now I’m figuratively sitting on half a dozen titles, some I’ve attempted to flesh out with additional words, while others have remained untouched.
Here are a few titles in my draft file. Hopefully by sharing these some creative urge will strike. Otherwise, I’m going to write more about my cat’s urination habits, and I think we’ve all had enough of that. I have anyway.
Things We Mourn (I think this is going to be a poem)
Weighing In (me, talking. Earth shatttering, I know)
Life on Mars (rambling poem–it rhymes sort of)
About Your Mom (everything the grandkids need to know about my daughter, their mom)
That Song (I have no idea)
Collective Whole (A thing I thought and then forgot)
Are you a “Title” person? Does the title come first or do you add one just before you publish? I’m truly curious.
Peace, people
You know it’s cold in Florida when the National Weather Service issues warmings about falling iguanas:
Peace, (and duck) people!
Living in the Florida panhandle insures that on most days I’ll be able to wander about outside in flip flops, a t-shirt, and capris. This is not going to be one of those days.
We’ve been fortunate this winter to have had very few nights when the temperatures dropped below 50° F. I guess we’ll just have to grin and bear it.
Yes, I know so many of you in the frigid parts of the country would gladly change places with me right now. Our daughter who lives in Port Byron, IL, certainly would.
As would some of our friends from our old stomping grounds near Bismarck, North Dakota.
We lived near there for almost four years. Brrr.
So today I’ll wear jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, and real shoes. Might even need a light jacket. I think I’ll probably survive.
Wherever you happen to live, stay warm and safe today!
Peace, people.
Back in the spring of 2019 I began eating a mostly vegan diet for health reasons. Occasionally I’ll have shrimp in a salad, or an egg white for breakfast, and I still put honey in my tea, but 99% of the time I follow a plant-based diet that excludes dairy.
Since I’m not a great cook I eat a lot of baked potatoes, fresh fruits, and salads at home, but my favorite place to eat is Sweet Pea Cafe in Tallahassee where everything is vegan, including the yummiest baked goods ever.
In the beginning when I ordered a meal at Sweet Pea I was full of questions like, “Who’s seitan?” and “Isn’t Tempeh a town in Arizona?” To their credit the Sweet Pea staff answered these questions and more, and finally I found myself fairly knowledgeable about vegan foods. Well, I know what I’m getting when I order, anyway. I’ve become fairly fluent in Veganese.
A couple of days ago I was in line to order at Sweet Pea behind a young couple who were obviously vegan novices. I patiently waited while they asked all of the questions I had asked and more.
“What’s tempeh made of?”
“How about seitan? What’s in it?
“What’s in a falafel?”
“What kind of cheese do you use?
Seriously, this young couple was thorough in their quest to find out what everything on the menu was made from or of.
There was one question that I never asked, though that the male did: “And what are the potatoes made from?”
I looked up from my phone to find the person taking the order suppressing a smile.
“Potatoes. We generally make them from potatoes.”
He went on to tell him what kind of oil they’d be cooked in and that they were locally grown.
I just had to grin. Finally someone asked a question I could’ve answered even in my virgin vegan days. Potatoes are made from potatoes!
Peace, people.
Praying for Eyebrowz 