Tag: florida

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!

So Much for the Pool

I’ve been swimming every day this week. Looks like I won’t be making it today.   
Bummer! Here’s a haiku about my deep despair.

Crap, feck, darn it, damn

Clouds opened up drenching all

I might as well nap.

Peace, people!

Warning: Graphic Content

Unretouched photos of me sunbathing.   

Peace, people!

Take That, Emily!

I went out to fetch our mail last Thursday afternoon enjoying the brief walk up our driveway. We had one catalog and a bit of junk mail in the mailbox. No bills were in the mix, and that’s always a good thing. 

The melodies of dozens of birds mingled on the breeze, and I spoke to a squirrel. They seldom speak back, yet I never give up hope. 

As I headed back to the house I noted a curious clicking noise, perhaps one squirrel scolding another. Instead of going in through our garage I walked around the back of the house, hoping to surprise whatever critter was click clicking. 

The instant I turned the corner I realized what was going on. A big, fat black snake slid away from me, and the birds had been warning one another. I should learn to speak Bird.

For the first time in my life I did not jump or squeal at the sight of the snake. Shouldn’t there be a medal for such an impressive show of bravery? Or at least a round of applause. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Oddly enough I’d had Emily Dickinson’s poem, Snake on my mind this morning, so I snapped a photo of it from the website online-literature.com.

  
I will never be Ms. Dickinson’s equal in the art of poetry, but I calmly faced a snake. Take that, Emily!

The visitor looked much like this guy.  I believe he is a Black Pine snake. Handsome, isn’t he? And quite polite. 
Peace, people!

Courting Studly

The title is deceptive. I have no intention of detailing my dating years with Studly Doright. Suffice it to say we made out a lot in parked cars, and at one point he asked, “So, you want to get married or what?”

To which I answered affirmatively, and the rest is history. Ancient and yet present history. No, this post is about Studly answering a summons to report for jury duty here in Gadsden County, Florida.  

I get all excited when I’m selected for jury duty. I’ve gotten the summons many times, but was chosen to serve just once. I think maybe my bright pink Pick Me! Pick Me! banner is a bit off-putting to attorneys. I can’t imagine why.

Studly does not share my enthusiasm for performing his civic duty. In fact, his response to the summons included a string of colorful curse words, and he seldom swears. 

After he calmed down I assured him it was unlikely he’d have to serve. “They call up tons of folks! What are the odds?” I offered to let him take my lucky pink sign. 

Apparently he should’ve taken my sign or purchased lottery tickets this week because he came home from the jury selection on Monday with the grimmest expression I’ve seen outside of a Criminal Minds episode. Another string of imaginative swear words accompanied his telling of the story. I fed him dinner and patted his hand. 

Curious, I asked him if they’d been given any idea as to what crime had been committed. He nodded, thoughtfully chewing an extra savory bite of roast that I’d lovingly prepared, but said he wasn’t able to tell me. 

Now it was my turn to say something colorful. “Son of a biscuit eater!”

So I changed my tack. I cajoled and flirted. Flashed a sexy thigh. Seductively bent over the laundry basket and wiggled my backside. But he wouldn’t spill the beans. 

This morning I sent him on his way with an admonition to be a good little juror, and a husky whisper promising all sorts of naughtiness if he’d just give me the scoop. But, still he refused. 

There’s a reason I call him Studly Doright. Dammit!

Peace, people!

  

Spring House

On Sunday afternoon I toured the only private residence designed by famed architect Frank Lloyd Wright in the entire state of Florida. 

The residence, Spring House, is tucked into a quiet Tallahassee neighborhood just a few blocks away from busy Interstate 10.

  

The main entrance to Spring House is less than captivating. A portion of the roof has succumbed to weather and age.

  
But the view from this angle is still breathtaking. Typical of Wright’s designs, the home blends into the natural beauty of its surroundings. 

Check out the website:

http://www.preservespringhouse.org

Built in the 1940’s, Spring House has been in decline for several years; however, the Spring House Institute works to raise money to purchase the home in order to restore it to its original state. 

Part of their fundraising includes offering tours of the home on the second Sunday of each month. If you are interested in architecture, and particularly in the works of Frank Lloyd Wright, I highly recommend the tour. 

  
We weren’t allowed to take photos inside the home, but it was incredibly odd and weirdly functional. The main floor featured a stunning sitting area looking out onto the beautiful north Florida flora. 

Above that were the sleeping areas for two adults and four children. Each room had an impressive view. I especially liked the boys’ sleeping area which featured windows all around. It felt like a camp cabin. 

I purchased some souvenirs, along with paying the tour fee, in order to help the Institute reach its goal. Places like Spring House need to be cherished and preserved for future generations.

If you haven’t read the book, Loving Frank by Nancy Horan, you really should. He wasn’t a particularly nice man, but definitely a genius. 

  
Peace, people!

A Quick Story Behind the Selfie

Yesterday I wrote about attending a campaign rally for Hillary Clinton at which former President Clinton spoke. I was an early early EARLY bird and had a front row spot. I’d like to say front row seat, but those were off to one side and reserved for local VIPs.

Given the time I stood in line along with time spent in the actual event I stood for about five hours yesterday. But it was so worth it.

Immediately following the event former President Clinton made his way around the barrier, stopping to shake hands with everyone within reach and graciously posing for pictures with anyone who asked. 

When he got to me, a world famous camera klutz, I decided to just shake his hand since I couldn’t do that AND snap a quick selfie. It would have to be enough. 

But the young man on the other side of me showed me his photo and I must have made some utterance of envy or dismay, for William Jefferson Clinton, 42nd President of these United States, took two steps back to me and WHISPERED IN MY EAR these momentous words, “What did you say?”

Yes! That happened. And I was flustered, but managed to say, “Oh, my friend was able to get a great selfie and I’m feeling jealous!”

And just like that he posed with me.

  
Yes, it’s a horrible photo of me–Ms. Psychedelic Funhouse 1956, but what a story, right? 

Peace, people. And Vote. 

How Cool is This?

Last night I opened my email to find a letter from the Hillary Clinton campaign:

  
Without hesitation I clicked on the red RSVP now button and received a follow up email.

  
I was so excited I barely slept last night. Because I wasn’t familiar with the venue I got up extra early. Thanks to my GPS I was at the site a good two hours before the event.

The reward for my hyper punctuality came when I scored a front row spot. 

  
The crowd of like-minded folks chatted congenially while waiting over an hour after taking our places.

   
   
I tried to take a panoramic photo of the crowd inside the center, but failed miserably. Thus you get some random crowd shots from outside.

Several local dignitaries spoke, and then William Jefferson Clinton was introduced to raucous applause.

   
    
 Not long into his speech, former president Clinton’s notes fell from the podium. He never missed a beat, just toed them out of his way.

After speaking in his mix of down home and politically savvy style, all the time reminding us why Hillary should be our choice in tomorrow’s primary election, Mr. Clinton left the stage to shake hands with as many people as possible.

Remember that first row spot I found? It paid off:

  
Oh I wish I were a better selfie taker!

Go vote tomorrow if you live in Florida or Illinois, or any other state holding its primary. 

Peace, people!

Snow Warning

On Saturday night a light snow fell near Havana, Florida. I looked out the window and told Studly Doright that I saw white flakes fluttering on the breeze, but he was too busy polishing his golf clubs to get up and look for himself. He didn’t see snow; ergo, it did not snow.

When he returned home from playing golf on Sunday afternoon his first words were, “Hey, did you know it snowed here last night?”

I swear, one of these days that man is going to wish he’d paid attention to me!

 

Someone must have given this guy a lift to our neck of the woods.

The best thing about Florida living is that cold snaps are invariably followed by warm, sunny days.

  
And that’s just the way we like it.

Peace, people!
 
  
 

 

Weather Relativity

I live near Tallahassee, Florida. Today I’m out piddling around town until it’s time to check in at the Tallahassee Animal Shelter for my weekly gig as a volunteer kitten cuddler. As you can see from the graphic below, it’s quite cold here today:

  
I just finished enjoying a pastry at a little shop, Au Péché Mignon, and noticed all the shoppers scurrying about outside bundled in their bright fleece jackets and winter boots. 

Just for grins I checked the weather in my daughter’s part of the world:

  
Although north Florida occasionally experiences temperatures in the 30’s, seldom are they recorded as the day’s high. It looks like Rapids City, Illinois, won’t make it out of the thirties today.

You know, I feel just awful for them. 

  
NOT!!!

Peace, people!