Water, Water Everywhere

 

     Water, water, every where,

     And all the boards did shrink;

     Water, water, every where,

     Nor any drop to drink.

Getting there from here

  

    Being in a new environment always takes some adjustment, sometimes more than less. 

Morning Constitutional

This morning we slugged down our orange juice, piled in the car, and headed for the beach.
I’ve been trying to take some form of a walk every morning, and what better place than the beach? At the very least I’d sand off some of those calluses on my feet. Plus, this Massachusetts girl is still adjusting to the steady upper 80s, so the best non-airconditoned time for me is in the morning. 

 

          

 It’s the off-season here in Venice, so there was plenty of parking and long stretches of beach with nary a soul, although there were a few locals:

          The sandpipers were skittering about, the water was perfect, and the tiny seashells invited us to pick them up. We didn’t spot any shark teeth – something Venice Beach is famous for due to it being a pre-historic shark dating site – but a little girl was optimistically out there with her sifter.

    

     There were also a couple of teen-to-twenty-something (I'm at that awkward age now where I have no idea how old anyone is) volunteers posting stakes and stretching tape measures.

 Turns out their job is to check the beach every morning for turtle nests and stake off the area; this is the time of year turtles emerge from the sea to lay their eggs.

Real nest

False nest. Maude must have just been scouting here.

 It’s a major event here, with admonitions to use only red lights outside if your house is near the water and other warnings so they don’t get waylaid in their mission. Can’t have the turtles thinking, “Come on, Maude, let’s see what’s shaking in downtown Venice!”

What Every Girl Needs

When we moved from the city to our small town nearby, we were excited to be moving to a place only thirty years old. Our first home was built in 1926, so the next one, constructed in 1967, was practically brand new in our eyes.

Connecting to Florida

     When we arrived here in this new territory, connecting to the internet and acquiring TV were top of the list.

Settling In

       Internet!  I have internet!  Kind of:

You can see why my communication has been delayed.

     It only took a week, and the epic tale of me and the cable company will follow later, but I thought I'd stick my head out and let you know I'm still alive.

 Not unlike one of the neighbors. Yes, he really is about the size of that manhole cover. He comes out and wanders across the broiling asphalt every day or so. 

This is definitely not Kansas.
 

Next Chapter

      The squirrels who have spent the year creating tiny craters all over the front yard have nothing on me.

Color our world

 

I may be unusually focused on color lately, having scored the perfect shoes for an upcoming major event at a local shoe warehouse.

          I mean, really – great or what?  ->

Suburbia Transformed

        

  Yesterday you couldn’t be blamed for thinking we lived in the breadbasket of America, instead of a small bedroom community with only one small farm left.

          Saturday was Plow Day, when teams from all over come to dig up the community garden for the beginning of the season.

 

It’s a chance for people to show off their horses’ plowing skills as they steer them from one side of the big fields to the other. Kind of like a farming version of a gathering of geeks. Instead of boasting about megabytes and apps, they gather in their overalls to compare technique and tack. 

          We were admiring the way one team cut through the hard earth, and the driver leaned down to call out, “This plow sat out in my field for ten years. Took it in, cleaned it up, and now I leave everyone sick at competitions. Best plow I ever had!”