Category: Florida

My Feet Hurt

I walked over eight and a half miles today on hot asphalt in 100° temperatures. I climbed the equivalent of twelve flights of stairs. My feet feel like two burning lumps of raw meat. My back is crying to be put out of its misery.

-BUT-

I rode Splash Mountain and Space Mountain and some other mountain I can never remember the name of. I rode in a flying ship a la Peter Pan and watched a symphony in 4D. I toured a Haunted Mansion and picked up a hitchhiking ghost. I sailed the seven seas with Captain Jack Sparrow. And, I did battle with a group of space aliens alongside Buzz Lightyear.

-SO-

I’ll put on my stinky sneakers and head out to another theme park in the morning. 

What a wonderful day! Thank you CB, Lord Jeff, and kids for allowing me to tag along.

Peace, people!

Pop Culture

Living in Florida comes with certain perks, and for a Disney-phile like myself, being able to get in the car and drive to the Orlando theme parks in just a few hours is definitely one of them.

I’m meeting my niece CB and her family for a weekend at the Magic Kingdom and Disney’s Hollywood Studios. CB’s family is flying in from Texas and won’t be here until late tonight, but I checked into my room in the Pop Century resort at 1:30 this afternoon and have already been Disneyfied.

   
    
   
The Pop Century Resort is divided by decades. Fittingly, I was booked into the 50’s section and found myself in a retro style hotel room reminiscent of those I stayed in with my family when I was a child. The modern flat screen TV is the only decorative nod to the current decade. 

   
   
I’m relishing the idea of a room to myself for three nights. 

CB, her husband Lord Jeff, and their two children will be staying just across the lagoon at the Art of Animation Resort. I scoped out their hotel this afternoon to see how long it will take me to walk it in the morning. Of course I kept getting sidetracked, so the walk is either ten minutes or an hour and 20 minutes give or take an hour.

These photos are from their resort:

  
    
    

As soon as CB calls in the morning I’ll join her family at The Art of Animation so we can ride a bus to the Magic Kingdom. I’m a few months away from turning 60, but I feel like a giddy kid. 

M-I-C (See you real soon!)

K-E-Y (Why? Because I have a ticket!) 

M-O-U-S-E.

Now if the kids next door will settle down, I’m going to sleep. 

Peace, people!

 

Stranger in the Night

I have a fondness for wildlife, especially when I’m safely tucked inside my home or car or indeed anywhere that the wildlife cannot possibly physically impact me. Sometimes, though, these man-made barriers don’t hold up their end of the bargain and I find myself face to face, or as the case might be, butt to face with a denizen of the Florida fauna.

In the middle of the night I awoke with the urgent need to tinkle. As usual, both cats had to accompany me. Peeing alone doesn’t happen in a household of felines. Scout Kitty was her usual business minded self: “C’mon mom, get it over with and go back to bed.”

But Patches was hyper attentive, jumping up on the back of the toilet and meowing frantically. I felt a ping of moisture on my exposed derrière, and thought she had drooled on me. Ew. Still, something felt off. I finished my business and upon turning to flush realized that it hadn’t been cat drool on my hind end, but this:

  
Now, I didn’t shriek, but I did giggle as I imagined this little guy pinging off of my butt and onto the toilet. 

  
I carefully helped the little stranger climb into an empty trash can and carried him outside where he could rejoin the league of frogs serenading the night. 

“Run free little guy!” I called after him.

You might wonder what Studly Doright was doing during all of this excitement. Snoring. He was snoring. At least Patches had my butt, I mean my back.

How about a little Sinatra? Appropriate in this situation.

https://g.co/kgs/DLjynD

Peace, people.

Off Again, On Again, Gone Again, Flanigan

Before every big road trip we take either Studly Doright initiates the phrase, “Off again, on again, gone again, Flanigan,” or I do. It’s part of our family culture. 

His PaPa Noyes taught him to say the phrase as a small child, back before Studly was known as Studly. PaPa dealt in scrap metal and would often invite one or more of his grandsons to ride along to Fort Worth. They couldn’t leave the “yard” in Hereford, Texas, until the words were chanted. 

Studly passed on the tradition to me, then to our children, and most recently to our grandchildren. Tomorrow as I head to Orlando to meet up with our niece CB and her family for a weekend at DisneyWorld I’ll say the words even though no one else will be in the car to hear them. 

  
I’m too excited to sleep! 

Peace, people!

Art in the Park

A couple of weeks ago I shrugged off my nagging back pain to attend the LeMoyne Chain of Parks Arts Festival in downtown Tallahassee.
  

The day was gorgeous, seemingly made for enjoying the arts and soaking in the sun. Here are just a few of the photos I snapped that afternoon.   
    
   
Art was everywhere, and much of it was for sale. It’s not often that I wish to be wealthy, but that day I did. 

I love functional art and these handcrafted sinks by Indikoi Sinks fit that category beautifully.   
   
Check them out online at www.indikoisinks.com

Then look at these gorgeous designs from Aquatic Impressions! 

   

Here’s how they’re made:
 

I purchased a cutting board.

  
   
Hanging around with famous folks.

 
I really want this bicycle to decorate my courtyard area. Of course I also want a dinosaur and a Buddha and maybe a 30 foot tall bacon sculpture.

  
This was created from an actual leaf. 


    
    
    
  
 

Shell Game

While giving the cats their treats this morning I looked out the window next to their respective bowls and saw this critter:

  
I wanted to get a closer look, so I threw some jeans and a t-shirt on and hurried outside hoping he hadn’t had time to hide. A turtle can be surprisingly fast.

Of course the closer I got to this guy the further in he drew his head.

   
    
   
Until finally all I could see was the very tip of his nose. He didn’t trust this giantess. Can you blame him?

In other nature news, one of our magnolia trees is working overtime.

  
I have to confess that until I had a magnolia I had no idea what they looked like. The blossoms are super-sized, and the leaves look like they’ve been sprayed with Pledge. And they make a terrific mess on the forest floor. The flower on the left appears to be ready to blossom at any moment. 

Studly Doright has begun working on the beautification of our front entryway. We have quite a bit of work to do and no clear idea of how we want to decorate this area. I’m not a gardener, so I’m not entertaining  thoughts of planting anything, except maybe a few container plants. Suggestions are welcome.

  
   
The neighbors across the road have been busy clearing trees out of their front yard. Like a little kid, I love watching the work being done.

  
Every now and then I pinch myself. How did I manage to end up in such a lush paradise with a lake in my backyard? There are more trees in my neighborhood than within the city limits of my beloved hometown in the dusty Texas panhandle. 

I hope you’re where you want to be this morning. 

Unnerving

I’d just left Chicken Salad Chick where I’d enjoyed the Cranberry Kelly and a side of grape salad. The day, sunshiny and Forida-perfect, insisted that I take a stroll and pop into the shops in a strip mall on Market Street in Tallahassee.

With no agenda, no cash, and all my credit cards gone to live with a bunch of nasty thieves, I truly was merely window shopping. 

I was dressed casually–cropped jeans and a soft white tshirt, flip flops. As I headed back to my car I saw a well-dressed woman walking toward me on the sidewalk. I smiled. I always smile, I can’t help it. 

She began laughing. Not a happy laugh, an insulting laugh, like, “Lady, who do you think you are?”

As she passed, close enough to touch, she looked me up and down. Now I’m wondering if I have food on my face (it wouldn’t be the first time) or a breast exposed (it could happen) or perhaps I’ve developed a unicorn type appendage between my eyes (not likely, but might be worth a snicker).

As soon as I got to my car I flipped the visor down to check my image in the mirror. Ok, I’m no beauty, but I couldn’t see a thing to laugh about. Well, my hair was a bit Dumb and Dumber-ish, but still….

I needed to stop at a grocery store for a couple of items on my way home, so once I entered the store I made a beeline for the ladies room. Again, America’s Next Top Model isn’t going to be calling any time soon, but I looked like an average 59-year-old grandmother with a touch of hippie grunge.

So why did this stranger feel the need to laugh at me? I want to track her down and ask. Why does it bother me that she laughed? Insecurity? Curiosity? 

Regardless, it was unnerving. Like that Denzel Washington movie, “Fallen,” where the devil keeps possessing different people, jumping from one host to another, singing The Rolling Stones’ Time is on My Side.

https://g.co/kgs/OnH8N
Hope she wasn’t possessed! That seems a good spot to end this. 

Peace, people!

Sitting on the Deck in the Company of Cats

Sunday morning wake up call, a pair of paws pat my face

Up, hurry up, we need a treat and then they’re off in heated race.

Pull on favorite Sunday wear, faded sundress and flip flops,

Splash some water on my face, run a brush through my mop.

Stumblebum into the kitchen, set coffee on to brew,

Putter bleary-eyed to the place where the felines sit and mew.

By their urgency one would think they’d not eaten in days,

Their respective weights dispel that lie in unambiguous ways.

Coffee’s perked, a cup is poured, I grab my current book,

And slip outside to honeysuckle’s welcome in my sheltered nook.

Ripples slide across the lake, while a tiny lizard scampers,

My cats examine its every move in hopes that they can batter.

And I sit and sip my coffee with a splash of Irish cream,

As breezes rustle through the pines and invite sweet daydreams.

  
Peace, people.

May I Have a Do-Over?

I went swimming this morning in Tallahassee. The skies were a bright blue with a few fluffy clouds to keep it from being too perfect. Another day in paradise, right?

My friends Barbara and Irena came about fifteen minutes after I’d begun my imaginative water ballet in the deep end of the pool at Trousdale Aquatic Center. When they’re present we chat about wine and books as we paddle from one side of the pool to the other. When they’re absent I pretend I’m a mermaid, so for a quarter of an hour I was in another world altogether. 

We had a swell time today and even made plans for wine and cake on Friday. After an hour of frolicking I bid the ladies adieu and headed to the showers. It didn’t take long for me to get squeaky clean, and soon I was ready to go in search of food. 

A lady I don’t know came into the locker room as I was leaving. “Did you hear? Shirley’s car was broken into.”

Now I do not know Shirley, but my sympathy was instant and sincere. Like an idiot I asked, “Here? In the parking lot?” 

“Yes,” she responded. “They smashed her window and took her purse.”

My heart sank. I’d left my purse under the seat of my car. I hurried out to the parking lot, but didn’t have to walk far in order to see that my driver’s side window had been broken. 

Glass covered the seat and floorboard of my Mazda. I cussed. Like a salty old sailor. Then I went to see if the police were already on their way. Four other cars had also been broken into and purses taken from every one. The police officers were efficient, but not very reassuring.

Apparently a group of enterprising thieves in our area targets cars in the parking lots of swimming pools and fitness centers and movie theaters knowing that their owners will be busy for quite awhile. They sure had a nice payday on this one.

It took me the better part of an hour to clear the glass out of my seat so I could drive without poking holes in my buttocks. Even then I pricked my hand on a sliver embedded in my steering wheel.

I spent the remainder of my day canceling credit cards, calling the department of state to notify them that my passport had been stolen, and the IRS to report that our measly little refund check was in the hands of ne’er-do-wells.

Thank goodness I didn’t have my social security card in my wallet. That was the one bright spot of the day. Probably the thing that bummed me the most was that they stole the beautiful bag that I purchased on my trip to Guatemala. 

So I want a do-over. I want to go to bed like Bill Murray in “Groundhog Day” and wake up to the sound of Sonny and Cher singing I Got You Babe. It could happen. Right?

Thanks for listening. 

Peace, people.

   
 

Estate Sale Find

Estate sales are my weakness. More so than garage sales, estate sales are often poignant looks into the lives of the people who’ve inhabited a home.

Last week I stumbled onto a sale in the Old Town section of Tallahassee. Many of the homes in this part of town are on large lots with huge trees and lovingly tended gardens. The estate sale home was one of these well-kept older residences.

Bypassing the items displayed in the covered parking area I entered the kitchen and found my treasure. 

  
I picked it up and was surprised by its weight which I estimate to be about a pound and a half to two pounds. I wasn’t sure what it was. Then I opened it:

  
Ah! A clue! Two little shot glasses. Surely this was some type of mobile Victorian bar set. Swizzle sticks and limes could go in the little trough….

Just as I was contemplating my first sip of whisky from one of the tiny glasses a woman approached me and said, “Oh! You found a nice inkwell. And it has the glasses intact!”

Yes, I nodded. I knew it all the time. 

  
I still think I could have a little nip from it. 

Peace, people!