Tag: florida

Snapshot #211

I promise I’m not being lazy. Okay, maybe I am, but after hosting two teens and a tween for over a week, I believe I deserve a couple of days of laziness. Honestly, they were well-behaved and a ton of fun, but I’m having difficulty putting together a cohesive post because there’s just too much to process right now.

Yesterday I had to bid them goodbye, and I might’ve cried a little watching them file through the boarding gate at the Panama City airport. Seems like only yesterday two of them were running around my house in diapers. I know the summer visits won’t last forever, so I’m savoring them while I can.

We spent the morning exploring Panama City, and I thought I’d share one of our silly photos.

I call this one, Toes: Both Sandy and Broken.

Two Teens Going Tree-to-Tree

I have two phobias that are somewhat related. The first is a fear of descending escalators. The second is a fear of heights, or to be more precise, falling from said escalators and heights. So when my fifteen year old granddaughter, Dominique, and her friend Sophia, asked me to join them on a tree-to-tree adventure at the Tallahassee Museum and Zoo I politely declined. Instead I offered to document parts of their adventure through photographs. Thankfully, they accepted my counter offer.

Here are Dominique (left) and Sophia being fitted with their harnesses:

Ready to go:

The rest are self explanatory. I couldn’t cover the complete two hour course which went across swamps and over animal enclosures, but I did get a few pictures and videos of their adventure.

The tree-to-tree course looks fun. There’s a part of me that would love to try it for myself. But it’s an incredibly small part and I’ve shoved it way down deep inside where it will never see the light of day.

The girls, however, came through with flying colors. I’ll just live vicariously through them. It’s safer that way.

Peace, people.

Cypress Trees

Studly Doright and I took the visiting grandkids and their friend, Sophia, to visit the Tallahassee Museum and Zoo on Friday. I’m still sorting through photos of our adventure to post another day, but I thought I’d share some of my favorite nature photos from the trip in the meantime.

Cypress trees are beautifully spooky even in the middle of a sunshiny summer day:

This dragonfly followed me for awhile:

Squirrel!!!

Swamp scenes:

I’ll share photos of the kids and Studly tomorrow, but for now, I’m pooped.

Peace, people!

Thrifting in Havana

Havana, Florida, is a prime shopping location for those looking for antiques, curiosities, or just plain junk. On a rainy Wednesday the intrepid Noyz grandkids, their grandparents, and a friend went in search of all three.

Friend Sophia had to try out every typewriter we saw.

Dominique and Sophia took a photo of a piece of wax fruit Dominique had photographed last year. It has a bite mark in it, for identification purposes, we supposed.

Jackson practiced molding a cardboard bust of Elvis. At least the tag said it was Elvis, we didn’t see the resemblance.

Studly Doright had to put in his two cents worth of advice.

I almost purchased these placemats featuring historic sites. Classy, right?

The placemats would’ve been stunning with the candelabras pictured above.

Dominique was perpetually cold.

Jackson loves old cameras. He seriously considered buying this one.

I found lots of cool pieces, but didn’t buy anything.

Loved this telephone table. The kids couldn’t quite get the idea that one couldn’t just talk on the phone from anywhere in the house. I told them I used to have to sit on the floor in our hallway to talk on the phone. Ah, those were the days.

A creepy doll above and another below.

I tried to convince Studly that I needed this green bench.

After an afternoon of thrift shopping we took the kids to a Japanese steakhouse in Tallahassee and then to see the new Mission Impossible movie.

A successful day on all counts, but the week is going by too quickly for Nana.

Peace, people.

Snapshot #209

When Texas grandson, Jackson, comes to visit we always spend some time “thrifting” at antique and junk stores. Neither Studly Doright nor Jack’s sister, Dominique enjoy the activity, but yesterday afternoon they, along with our guest, Sophia, accompanied us to Havana to check out the local goods.

I didn’t have time to go through all the photos I took on our quest for the perfect thrift store find, but this piece caused each one of us to make a face and/or an exclamation of revulsion:

I’m calling it, “Ew! What’s Wrong with that Giant Creepy Doll’s Arms?”

I’m not sure what today will bring. Rain hampered outdoor activities yesterday, so we’re hoping for clearer skies on this Thursday.

Peace, people!

Wakulla Swim

On Tuesday morning I took our granddaughter, Dominique, and her friend, Sophia, to Wakulla Springs. Sophia had never seen an alligator outside of a zoo setting, so we had high hopes for a sighting.

When we first arrived at Edward Ball State Park rain was falling, and tickets for the boat ride weren’t being sold yet due to the possibility of lightning down the river. The girls donned their hoodies so we could go exploring.

That’s the diving platform above.

The small blue markers strung across the river are the only demarcation between swimming territory and all manner of wildlife including gators, manatees, and snakes. According to the park rangers the only real thing keeping wildlife out of the swimming area is the presence of people.

Occasionally an alligator will cross the line and have to be removed. While the girls were swimming I watched two other swimmers each pull a snake from the water. They assured me that these snakes weren’t venomous, but eeek!

Around noon we were cleared for the boat tour. The rains had cooled everything off, so while we saw a good many gators, they were all in the water.

And I managed to fail at getting a photo of anything other than my fellow passengers, trees, and swampy water.

After lunch the two Texas girls swam in the Florida sunshine for over an hour.

Meanwhile I reclined on my brightly colored blanket and read.

The girls slept all the way back to Doright Manor, while I sang along to the 60’s channel on Sirius/XM. Now, I need a nap!

Peace, people.

The Grandkids are Coming! The Grandkids are Coming!

Studly Doright and I have been getting Doright Manor ready to withstand a visit from our Texas grandkids, Dominique and Jackson. The two, along with one of their friends, are flying in to Panama City Beach on Sunday evening to stay with us in Havana for a week. The guest rooms and baths are ready, the cupboards are full, and the refrigerator is stocked with Jackson’s favorite root beer.

Each year when the kids visit, Studly, who goes by “Poppa” around the grands, has motorcycles ready to work on and ride. I usually take the kids to a water park. However, Jackson broke his foot at the beginning of the summer and will still be in a cast. We might have to get a bit more creative with our activities this year.

Arts and crafts, anyone?

Regardless of what we do, we’ll have fun. I’ll post something if I have the energy!

Peace, people!

Umbrella Geography

As I drove through a pop up thunderstorm on my way into Tallahassee yesterday I glanced over to make sure my umbrella was tucked into its appropriate spot in the catch-all pocket of the passenger seat door. Sure enough, there it was just waiting to provide an invaluable service. And if it hadn’t been there I knew there was another umbrella in the pocket behind my seat.

Studly Doright and I keep two umbrellas in each of our vehicles, plus spares in the house for visitors and one in his shop. We are a proud, multi-umbrella household.

For most of my life I didn’t even own such a device. I thought they were pretty when characters on tv and in movies unfurled their umbrellas to stroll through a gentle rainfall. In theory I knew they could be useful, but I grew up in the dusty Texas panhandle where most days it was too dry to whistle.

Unless one is an umbrella fetishist there is absolutely no use for an umbrella in places that might get rain three times a year. And when it does rain in Floydada, or Claude, Texas, the howling winds generally render an umbrella useless.

When our daughter was small she desperately wanted a colorful raincoat with matching galoshes and umbrella. We were barely living paycheck to paycheck back then, so something the child might get to use once in her life wasn’t high on my list of priorities. But she’d have been adorable in matching rain gear. Damned poverty.

How many umbrellas do you own? Is the number directly related to where you live? I considered making the claim that I could tell where respondents reside by the number of umbrellas they owned, but decided I’d just be guessing. I’m no umbrella soothsayer, after all.

Peace, people.

Ahh, The Beach

When Studly Doright came to me one chilly spring day in Illinois and told me he’d been tagged for a position in Florida, I was elated. We’d lived in Melbourne, FL, for four years before the company transferred us to Illinois, and I’d fallen in love with the white sand beaches that were only ten minutes from our Florida home.

It wasn’t until I started searching online for homes in or near Studly’s new office in Tallahassee that I realized we weren’t going to be very close to a beach. I was a bit dismayed.

Studly was already in Florida living in an extended stay hotel when I called him from Champaign, Illinois, to ask, “Where the heck is the nearest beach?”

He hemmed and hawed a bit and finally admitted that he wasn’t sure. Certainly if our positions had been reversed locating the nearest beach would have been at the top of my list of priorities. Alas, Studly isn’t a beach person. The only sand he cares about is in the traps he tries to avoid on the golf course.

Once our home sold in Illinois and I joined my husband in Florida I had two urgent tasks: find a home and find the beach. It took me awhile to find Doright Manor, but just a week to discover the beach at St. George Island. And while it’s an hour and a half drive from our house, it is a lovely place.

Yesterday I drove down through the towns of Crawfordville and Sopchoppy, Lenark Village and Carabelle. I turned left in Eastpoint and over the bridge to paradise.

St. George Island’s residents don’t allow big chains to operate on their turf, so the hotels and restaurants are mom and pop businesses.

I enjoyed a lunch of grilled mahi mahi tacos at the Blue Parrot overlooking the beach.

Then I changed into my bathing suit and set up a spot on the beach just short of the lapping waves.

The heat of the June sun was intense on my super pale body, but every now and then the clouds provided some relief. And when things got too hot, hot, hot, I waded out into the water to cool off.

I took a horrible selfie. I had on my dark sunglasses and couldn’t actually see what the picture looked like until I returned home and began editing my photos. Is it just me or is my face crooked? Also, I need cheekbones.

We’ll call this one “I Think Chipmunk Cheeks Needs a Bigger Hat.”

The photo below is my favorite of the day. I really needed an umbrella like the one pictured.

I didn’t stay too long on the beach for fear I’d get a sunburn even with SPF 50 slathered on my lily white limbs, but my brief visit to the sand and the sea restored me. I returned to Doright Manor feeling better for having made the drive. I guess it’s not all that far away after all.

Peace, people.

Timberrr Update

A few days ago I posted a photo of a tree that had fallen during a thunderstorm on Sunday. This happened just a couple of houses from Doright Manor.

The route I normally take out of our neighborhood is in the opposite direction of the fallen tree, but I’m a curious sort and took the long way ’round yesterday morning so I could check out the situation.

Part of the tree has been been cut into pieces so that it now only blocks half of the road; although, the bulk of it remains in the front yard of a neighbor’s home.

Thank goodness it fell into the road and not onto their home.

Although, this trailer felt the full brunt of the fall:

Again, it could’ve been much worse. The tree could’ve easily landed instead on the pickup truck to which the trailer had been hitched.