If I only had a brain

 

One small benefit of a bum knee and being unable to play pickleball is that I now lounge in the mornings instead of bounding onto the court at 8:30 a.m.

Knees and Hair

 

Today should have been a pickleball day but my knee is on the fritz. It’s been acting up since last Monday’s session and I finally realized that if I’m going to do my part in the roughly 1,500 mile road trip home, I’d better be sensible.

Bikes not Buggies

 

When we bought our home here in Venice years ago, I knew it wasn’t like Miami or any of the other party-central places on the east coast of Florida. Thank heaven. But it’s also far less glitzy than the big city of Sarasota just down the road.

          The area also has unexpected things like the equestrian center, with its jumping
competitions involving people from all over the country, that I could easily walk to from my place.

  

        And if you see someone on an adult tricycle wearing suspenders and a straw hat, they’re likely from Pinecraft, an Amish community on the outskirts of Sarasota, only 30 minutes from Venice.

          Yes, even some of the Plain people are snowbirds. I’ve even seen a few on the beach.

      

   In fact, in February they held their 7^th annual Seniors Softball
Showdown between Amish and Mennonite players versus non-Amish locals. 

    There were three competing teams, coming from Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Indiana. And no real need for uniforms, since you can differentiate the teams by who’s wearing suspenders.

          There’s been an Amish and Mennonite community in Pinecraft since the 1920s. While there are a few year-round residents, many of the houses are rented out for short-term visits by the thousands of Amish that come from all over the country.

 It’s a destination for older folks, honeymooners, and some younger Amish come for seasonal work. Generally, though, the visitors come from more business-oriented locations in the mid-west.

          It can get iffy, though, because the more traditional communities would frown upon the use of electricity in the homes here, although apparently this is often allowed for temporary stays. And there does seem to be a range of observances of tradition. One Saturday, when My Guy and I were breakfasting on a patio next to a parking lot, I saw two women in long print skirts arrive in an SUV, pop on their bonnets and go in for some pastry.

Mama Maneuvers

 

It was just to be a small walk around our complex.

Pioneer Skills

 

When we had friends over the other night, I brought out a bottle of a wine I’d enjoyed at someone else’s house and I bought a bottle of my own for that evening.

We opened it up, poured a small taste, and then collectively reeled back.

          It was awful. It smelled ghastly and our one brave taste confirmed it. Something had gone horribly wrong with it. So, I poured it out and put the bottle in the recycling.

 

We were having beef stew last night and I wanted to have something more than just a bowl plonked down on the table. Not in the mood for another salad (yes, I know, a healthier choice) and needing to use up the flour, I made baking powder biscuits.

          Kind of.

          No shortening. Since anyone knows that butter makes everything better, I substituted that. Like so many times before, I mixed the dry ingredients, cut in the butter, and added the milk. Next step, a quick knead and then roll it out.

          No rolling pin. When outfitting your place in the land of sun and fun, a rolling pin is rarely top of anyone’s list.

          But wait.

          A quick rifling through the seltzer cans, tonic bottles, and wine discards and eureka! There it was, only needing a good washing.

          The bottler may have screwed up the contents somehow but they designed a perfectly
shaped container.

         

Massachusetts here I come

 

We won’t be heading home till the end of the month, but my urge to be there is growing and it’s not just because of the impending 90 degree temps here.

Pressure

 

I’ve been spending the past few days selectively deaf. My AirPods have become almost a permanent fixture in my head, and My Guy is getting used to waiting for me to tap my left ear twice (to pause the recording) until he can speak to me.  There are a couple of reasons for this.