Tag: florida

A Lizardless Winter

We’ve been living at Doright Manor for four years now, and I believe this is the first winter we haven’t had a small lizard living in the mailbox. Every day I open the mailbox with anticipation and a bit of trepidation, and every day that there’s no lizard I feel a little let down, but also a bit relieved. Sometimes those guys scared the crap out of me.

The temperatures have been colder than usual this year, so I’m not sure if it’s simply too cold for the lizards or if they’ve moved to better digs. I can’t do a thing about the weather, but I can do something about the accommodations. Maybe I’ll redecorate the mailbox before next winter, put in a nice recliner and a rug.

Or perhaps I’ll knit a sweater and attach a note with care instructions.

It couldn’t hurt, right?

I do hope the lizards are somewhere safe and warm.

Peace, people.

A Post About Something I Didn’t Get to Do

One of the MeetUp groups I’ve become involved with had planned to visit a local Tallahassee historical site, the Lichgate House on High Street on Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately a private event was being held at the venue, so we ended up meeting for lunch at Newk’s, a local eatery.

I’d never heard of Lichgate, but it’s a site I’m eager to visit now. This is a place I’ve driven by dozens of times without realizing what lay behind the foliage. There’s only a small sign marking the site.

The story of Lichgate House is compelling:

http://www.lichgateonhighroad.org/

I hadn’t checked my email before going to the site, so I got a glimpse of the grounds from the parking area where I learned we wouldn’t be able to enter, but would instead go straight to lunch. We’ve had a cold front move into the area, so maybe the cancellation was for the best, and we can visit on a warmer day.

Pinterest had some photos from Lichgate:

I can’t wait to see this for myself.

Peace, people.

Barely Bearing Up

I used to be a hardier person. At least that’s the story I tell myself. It’s become more difficult to believe, though, as I find myself whining about the less than balmy weather we’ve had in Tallahassee these past couple of weeks. Some days we barely climbed above 40°!

When Studly Doright, and I, along with our two kids, lived in North Dakota we went entire months without seeing temperatures above 30°F. I drove daily on icy roads, supervised playground duty in sub-zero weather with three feet of snow on the ground, and went about my business even with blustery winds gusting at fifty miles per hour. And those were the more temperate winter days! Somehow, we adapted.

Neither of us were accustomed to long term cold, having grown up in the panhandle of Texas. We knew brief periods of winter that often were replaced by spring-like weather, within a space of six hours. I can remember mornings that school was cancelled due to snow that found us playing outside sans coats by 3 pm.

I’m rambling, I know. It’s this darned cold weather to blame. I’m barely bearing up under these conditions. My feet have forgotten how to wear flip flops and will require remedial instruction once the temps begin to rise once more. That’ll most likely be next week. And, as God is my witness, we will rise again.

“Forget the Iguanas” Stew

Ladies and gentlemen it’s cold outside! Not so cold that I’m liable to get frostbite if I’m out for more than a few minutes, but cold enough that in some parts of the Sunshine State cold-stunned iguanas are falling from the trees. That I could possibly be walking along and have a lizard fall on my head almost makes me hope for hypothermia instead. Almost.

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/frozen-iguanas-falling-from-trees-during-cold-snap-in-florida/

Can you imagine? The thought creeps me out.

I couldn’t stop thinking about falling iguanas, so I occupied my mind by chopping vegetables for a stew. Now all I had to worry about was losing a finger. I’m not all that good with knives.

Once the veggies were all chopped and the stew was simmering on the stove, wafting savory odors throughout Doright Manor, I once again found myself contemplating falling lizards. What to do? How about I type up the stew recipe for my readers?

“Forget the Iguana Stew”

1 lb. very lean ground beef, (I use 93% lean) browned and drained

3 C. potatoes, cubed

1 1/2 C. celery, chopped

1 C. onion, chopped

2 C. carrots, chopped

1 1/2 C. frozen peas (Studly prefers corn, so that’s what I used)

1 3/4 C. chunky style Italian tomato sauce or Italian style stewed tomatoes (I can’t always find the chunky style, so the stewed tomatoes work fine.)

1 C. tomato sauce

1 1/4 C. beef broth

Salt and pepper to taste

(I usually add a tomato sauce can of water–the recipe as it’s written doesn’t seem to have enough liquid.)

Cook for a couple of hours, while the potatoes soften and all the flavors mingle, and stir frequently. I cook it on medium heat and then switch to low once the veggies feel soft.

If you cook this in the crockpot, cook on low for 6-8 hours.

No iguanas were harmed in the making of this stew.

Peace, people

To Epcot or Not to Epcot

Next week Studly Doright has to be in Orlando for a meeting, but he’s also taking a day of vacation while he’s there to have his golf swing analyzed. Heck, I offered to save him a great deal of time and money by watching his backswing and laughing for free. He wasn’t amused.

Apparently he didn’t hold my snarky comment against me, though, suggesting that I accompany him to Orlando. Instead of taking his company car, we’d drive one of our own vehicles, and I could visit one of the theme parks on the day he has to work. I might’ve jumped up and down like a little kid.

I haven’t been to Epcot in years, so that’s the park topping my list. I geek out a little thinking about Future World, and I’ve never once made it completely around the World Showcase, so that’s my goal for this trip.

The only possible downside is that the weather predicted for the day I’ll visit isn’t optimal with temperatures expected to be in the 50’s. I’ll more than likely need to wear jeans and real shoes! Maybe even a jacket! Oh, the humanity!But, on the plus side, maybe the cooler weather will keep the crowd sizes down, and I won’t have to worry about long lines.

The only other park in the running would be Universal Studios Islands of Adventure, but my heart is saying Epcot, and the heart wants what the heart wants, am I right?

Our Christmas Letter

Studly Doright and I were too lazy to send out our annual Christmas letter this year (and the year before, and the year before that), but after receiving the twelfth such letter from various friends and family members I began feeling guilty. Without such a missive how will anyone know what an absolutely awesome year Studly and I had? Fortunately I have this forum, so with just a bit of exaggeration, here is our offering:

“Doright Year in Review”

Dear Friends,

It’s that time of year again when we regale all of you with our adventures great and small, but let’s face it, the Dorights only have great adventures. All others are swept under the rug.

In January we moaned about temperatures dropping into the 50’s. My tan faded and Studly had to wear long pants to play golf. It was devastating.

February brought more of the same, but Valentine’s Day broke up the monotony. Studly made it special by purchasing a 10-karat diamond necklace for me to wear to the grocery store. It pairs well with the mink he bought me for Christmas last year.

In March the temperatures began creeping into the tolerable zone. I spent a great deal of time at our beach house while Studly made a killing on the stock market and switched to shorts on the golf course. He shot a 69 on his home course and recorded two holes in one. The PGA contacted him about joining the senior tour, but he declined, saying it wouldn’t be fair to all the other golfers. What a mensch!

April and May were memorable for their showers and flowers. I entered the annual garden show with an orchid I discovered on my last trip to South America. The National Society of Horticulturalists have named it the Nana Glorious in my honor. My entry took first, second, and third place honors at the event.

We spent June, July, and August abroad. While Studly golfed in Scotland and Ireland, I explored quaint mountain villages throughout Europe and discovered yet another rare flower. Being the generous soul that I am, I pointed it out to a local woman who will go on to win multiple accolades for her contribution to botanical studies. Studly isn’t the only mensch in our family.

September was quiet as we recovered from our travels. Studly worked a bit, as his sharp mind and quick wit are in great demand. I was approached with a multi-million dollar deal to publish my memoirs. I just laughed and said, “Darlings, I haven’t even begun living yet!”

In October I traveled to visit our five precocious grandchildren. Fortunately they all take after me and will be outrageously successful.

November brought us together with most of Studly’s family. We celebrated his 60th birthday with a small concert. Sting said it was the best event he ever performed at, and asked if he could join us for Christmas this year.

So here we sit, Sting, Studly, and I, sipping spiced rum around a massive Christmas tree in the grand salon of our cabin in the Rockies. Sting keeps wanting to sing, but Studly says, “Enough, man. Let’s enjoy a Silent Night.”

We hope you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Pesky Words

We have a president who insists on taking us back to a day without science, and perhaps into a future of oppression. Here is a list of words his administration has banned the Centers for Disease Control from using in future budget proposals:

Similarly, our Florida governor, Rick Scott, has forbidden the use of the term “climate change” among members of our state government, as if banning words could make the reality behind them go away.

So, let’s also ban these words:

Murder

Injustice

Poverty

Hunger

Abuse

Disease

Misogyny

There. That should do it. Pesky words.

Seriously, who bans words? Oh, we all know the answer to that. I’m sure North Korea has a long list of words that are illegal to use. Trump’s friend, Putin most likely has a tablet filled with words his people aren’t allowed to utter in public.

Can we panic now? Or will panic be banned, as well?

Peace, people. Please don’t ban peace.

Honest, it was the Wine

Before I tell you this story I need for you to know that I am not a stupid person; however, if after reading my tale of missteps you are led to the conclusion that I’m not the brightest bulb on the tree, I won’t argue with you.

On Wednesday night Studly had to be in Crestview, Florida, for a company Christmas party. Since I had an errand to take care of a bit further west we decided to rendezvous in Crestview for the night. I’d get up early Thursday and head to my destination while he’d go north to one of his locations.

We had a quiet, perhaps even a slightly romantic evening at the Holiday Inn Express in Crestview. I might have enjoyed a bit too much of a locally produced wine, but I remember distinctly reminding Studly to get his reading glasses before leaving for work the next morning.

I didn’t sleep much. Sometimes too much wine isn’t conducive to a peaceful rest, so I was up and down all night. Meanwhile, Studly snored. I must’ve dozed off at some point, because I awakened to him getting dressed for work. We exchanged kisses and off he went.

Figuring I was through sleeping I went to the bathroom and what did I see lying on the counter? Studly’s reading glasses. Hadn’t I just reminded him about leaving them a few short hours ago?

I quickly grabbed my phone to call him, but was surprised to hear his phone ringing on his bedside table. Crap. Not only had he left his glasses, he’d also forgotten his phone! What a doofus!

Quickly I pulled my blue jeans on and grabbed my coat, throwing it on over my pajamas. I slipped my boots on without socks, slipped the room key into my back pocket and hurried to the elevators with Studly’s glasses and cell phone in hand. I was hoping Studly had stopped to eat a bite of breakfast before leaving the hotel so I could catch him.

The elevator was slow as molasses, but soon I was in the breakfast room. I’d left my own glasses in the room, so I had to squint to see if he was in the area. No Studly. I went to the lobby and squinted. No Studly. Out the door I went. There parked beneath the hotel awning was his unoccupied car. At least he hadn’t left yet, so he must’ve realized he didn’t have his stuff and gone back to the room.

I hurried back to the elevator, knowing there was a possibility he’d be coming down as I went up, but hoped he’d be knocking on the bedroom door thinking I was in the shower.

Sure enough when I rounded the corner there he stood with his hand raised to knock on our door. He gave a startled look when I came trotting down the hall.

“You left your phone and your glasses in the room,” I panted, handing them to him..

“Yep, that’s my phone,” Studly said. “But these aren’t my glasses.”

Puzzled, I looked at the glasses as he handed them back. They were mine. I’d carried them around, squinting because I couldn’t see, and they were mine.

I’m blaming this all on the wine, you know.

Peace, people.

Thoughts on Killing Off a Bottle of Merlot

I stopped today at a small winery in Chautauqua, Florida. In a tasting room, I sampled the Chardonnay along with a Merlot and a holiday blend. I purchased three bottles, one of each, and tucked them into my suitcase before continuing my journey west on interstate 10.

My plan was to meet up with Studly Doright at a Holiday Inn Express in Crestview, Florida. I love assignations with my husband. The prospect of a pretend illicit meeting with my man is a bit heady, so as I drive I contemplate which bottle to open tonight. The Chardonnay? No, too much of a lightweight. The holiday blend with mulled spices? No, I’ll save that for Christmas Eve. Ah, that left the Merlot. Deep and rich and red.

I can’t divulge the details of our night, but let’s just say, I picked the right wine. Here’s a toast to old married people. We live. We laugh. We love.

Peace, people.

For Your Sartorial Consideration

Since moving to the Tallahassee, Florida, area Studly Doright and I have had very little need for cold weather wear. I’ll dig my jacket out of the guest room closet every now and then, and both of us have hoodies we wear on cooler days, but for the most part we can just wear long sleeved shirts and jeans and be perfectly comfortable.

But we’ve had a cold front move into our neck of the woods just in time for Studly’s company Christmas party, and he wanted a new sweater for the event. Our search for the right garment took us to Beall’s department store. In Studly’s mind there’s no other place to shop for his clothing, and he can usually find something that suits him fairly quickly. Emphasis on quickly.

At this stage in our marriage I don’t even try to offer my advice. He’s going to buy whatever plain blue or red or green sweater he sees first, so I went looking for fun stuff. I didn’t have to look very far:

When Studly came to the checkout counter I led him over to these festive suits. “You could wear one of these to the party,” I told him.

“And you could wear that,” he said, pointing to this rack:

I told him I was game, but he backed out, so he’ll be wearing his plain red sweater tomorrow night. Bah. Humbug.

Peace, people.