This is my backyard here at Doright Manor. Today the temps were in the mid-70’s, and while rain is in the forecast through next Tuesday, we’re enjoying the gift of pleasant weather today. I know we’re very lucky right now.
Wherever you are, I hope you’re warm and dry. Maybe you’ll have a cup of hot chocolate, or a bowl of stew. At bedtime you might enjoy a hot toddy. Heck, now I’m almost in the mood for winter weather. Almost.
Peace, people!
On December 27, 2019, we lucky denizens of the Florida panhandle are enjoying temperatures in the mid-70’s. I’ve seen lizards skittering about and bees pollinating plants, but they all refused to remain still for a photo.
My front yard has some gorgeous pink flowers that accommodated me, though. I’m calling this photo, “Is this a Camellia?”
Peace, people!
I’m calling this one Proof That Winter Visits Florida.
Studly Doright and I live in the Florida panhandle where it seldom snows, and when it does we receive only a light dusting that disappears almost as soon as it hits the ground. We haven’t always lived here, though. For three years we lived in North Dakota, a place that sees more than its fair share of snow starting in October. And once the snow falls it’s there until early spring. So, while I love the thought of snow, I never want to live in a place that gets more than a few centimeters in a decade. I’m quite happy enjoying snow from afar.
Lately my Facebook feed has been inundated with snowman and woman humor. I figured that’s a good way to appreciate snow, right? All the cuteness without the cold.
Here are some of my favorites. Some of them really resonate.
Okay. I’ve had my fill of snow for the year. No fuss, no muss, and no shoveling.
Peace, People.
Huddled under cardboard,
Old Annie shivers.
Surrounded by layers of rags and bags,
Scavenged bits hoarded against the cold,
Shoved into cracks, or
Worn as a layered mantle
No room open for her tonight
No place to warm her tired bones
They say it’s not cold enough.
Twelve degrees.
The winds howl,
Sweeping down these city streets
Stirring up ghosts of every December
Those souls who couldn’t be saved
No place to warm their bones
No room opened for them
Someone said it’s not cold enough.
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.
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.
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
Lake Ella in Tallahassee, Florida, is one of my favorite places to walk. I call this one, taken on a warm winter day, “January Done Right.”
The title is a bit misleading since according to the calendar those of us residing in the northern hemisphere have been locked into winter since December 21-ish. Forget those pesky calendar designations. You know how robins are harbingers of spring? Then finding a lizard in my mailbox is the first sign the temps are going to drop in North Florida, and to me that is the truest indication that winter has arrived.
Not nearly as pleasant as discovering the robins have returned, being surprised by a lizard hiding in the stacks of post-holiday bills and glossy junk mail is a certain cardiac stimulant and/or test for urinary continence. I am proud to say that I didn’t squeal or utter a four-letter word this afternoon when the little bastard jumped out at me; although, I might’ve peed a little.
Praying for Eyebrowz 