Sunday Stroll

 This morning's walk through the complex was full of the usual fauna:

A crabby crow

A cautious blue heron

Two loud ducks

A white ibis (which always reminds me of those hoods worn during the 1400's plague)

And a . . . . . .goat?

  We do have some farms nearby, but this is a new event this year. Rather than a forgetful farmer, some think the land beyond the tangle of growth in back of us is perhaps now being leased out for grazing. One enterprising neighbor climbed through and found a cow munching away. Now such a bad thing to get rid of undergrowth during this drought. 

Still a little startling when all I was expecting was a few gekkos crossing my path. 

The Heavens

 

Sweet daughter managed to tear herself away from the tropical climes of northwestern New Jersey for a long weekend here in Florida. I’m sure it was a wrench, having to leave behind the scene of this last week’s blizzard. It’s a rare treat to have one of our kids all to ourselves, something you don’t realize how much you’ll miss it when they get married and have kids and a life of their own.

Sad Soles

          So as you may know, I’ve been playing pickleball quite a bit lately, sometimes three times a week. And if you’re envisioning me dashing gracefully side to side and then whizzing from the net to the back of the court – don’t.

          My game is now fairly stationary; I play close to the net as much as I can and depend on fast reflexes and a long reach. I learned the hard way that running backwards will often guarantee that you’ll land on your keister, or worse.

          Running anywhere pretty much left my life several years ago.

          And yet, I’ve still managed to come home with aching legs. Thinking it was all about arch support issues, I got orthotics, which didn’t solve things completely. I finally realized I probably just needed a new pair of sneakers, which I now need to take for a walk. Or do I?

          Do people still “break in” their shoes? I remember as a kid, a period of band-aids on my heels before that year’s school shoes softened up.

          And another thing – I also remember every September my father taking the beer can opener’s pointy end and scratching up the smooth soles of my new saddle shoes to prevent me slipping. In this world of sneakers everywhere except the shower, I guess that’s gone, too.

Quiet Weekend

          My Guy is away for the weekend, and I should be accomplishing no end of productive projects. It’s not as though I couldn’t do these things when he’s home, but something about having a silent house makes me feel both guilty and free.

          I’ve at least finished one audio book and I’m halfway throug

Mulch Madness

 

       In spite of being old enough to have a 23 year-old grandson, and having bought a condo (and paying a hefty HOA fee for the landscaping), I found myself outside spreading mulch.

Valentine Cuisine

 

Our Valentine’s Day festivities were just as dull as they usually are. And we’re just fine with that.

Fuzzy Memories

 If one purpose of a blog is to record events and memories from our lives, it occurred to me that perhaps I could list all the animals from my life.