Since moving to the Tallahassee area over four years ago, I haven’t connected to many other women. Most days I’m fine enjoying my own company, but sometimes I get lonely.
My blogging friend, The Happy Quitter at https://nonsmokingladybug.wordpress.com/ inspired me to connect with others as she had through the Meetup app, so on Thursday evening I did just that and met members of the Tallahassee Women’s Social Meetup at the Wine Loft.
I’m not going to lie, I was a nervous ninny before connecting with these women I’d never met before, but Studly Doright sent me off with a kiss and an admonition against talking too loudly–something I do when I’m nervous. I’m not sure I was successful in keeping my decibels down, but I don’t recall anyone recoiling in disgust, or covering both ears, so maybe I was within reasonable levels.
The group of women was friendly and diverse. I enjoyed sipping wine and visiting for a couple of hours, and I’m looking forward to the next time I’m able to join them. Maybe my nerves will have calmed and I can listen more than I talk.
I’ll write more later, but for now I must prepare for an adventure. Sorry to be so cryptic, but I’m not even sure what it entails.
The Texas grandkids are visiting us here at Doright Manor, and they don't always want to do the same activities. Yesterday Studly Doright took Dominique to the Tallahassee Museum for zip lining adventures (Jackson doesn't meet the height requirements) while Jackson and I went to a local arcade.
I didn't take many photos though, because I was too busy being defeated in two player challenges. This kid knows his way around video games.
When we returned home I challenged him to an old-fashioned type of game.
I won, thank you very much.
Hopefully Studly Doright took some photos of his time with Dominique, but I won't hold my breath.
Sometimes having fun is hard work. Today Poppa, aka Studly Doright, and the grandkids took the bikes to a local riding park outside of Tallahassee. I went along just in case a chase vehicle was needed.
Poppa made sure both Dominique and Jackson played active roles in unloading their bikes.
While the three intrepid bikers took off down a series of dirt trails I sat in the car and read for awhile. Consequently, I have no exciting photos of their ride, only secondhand tales of near misses and wrong turns. In the end, my chase car services were necessary when Dominique's scooter suffered a minor breakdown. It is nice to be needed.
Peace, people, and safe travels.
I still recall the agonizing creepiness of this moment from my first year as a blogger. Eek!
Shehanne Moore encouraged me to republish some of my older stuff on WordPress. Well, it doesn’t get much older than this piece. I give you my second blog post on WP.
I found this beauty in Tallahassee. What shall we title this photo? “Pretty in Pink?”
I haven’t posted a snapshot for several days, mostly because I’ve been a lazy slug, but today I was shopping for a robe to pack for Ireland and wandered into J.C. Penney in Tallahassee. Finding nothing in the lingerie department to suit me, I checked the swimsuit section because sometimes swimsuit cover-ups are the perfect light robes for travel.
Imagine my confusion when this sight greeted me in swimwear. I’m calling this one, “Not Your Daughter’s Bikini.”
No destination in mind, I was free to choose. Flip a coin, left or right, or perhaps bear straight ahead where a
Canopied road beckons, shadow-stippled, playing footsie with the sun. No artist painted this. Slow down,
Patterns shift with the slightest whisper of wind. Blink, and the world has changed already. Dark to light and back
Again. A forest green turtle ventures a crossing. Hurry, little guy, not all who travel here will care if you safely reach your
Destination. He ignores my wave, but soldiers on, tiptoeing persistently across this canopied road. His choice matters, too.
I took this photo in front of a Walgreens or CVS–one of our many drugstores in Tallahassee. I call it, “Holy Magnolia!”
This poor guy made it into a parking lot in downtown Tallahassee only to meet his doom. I call this one, “Requiem for an Armadillo.”