Departure

 Today is a day of piles in the hall, cleaning the fridge, eating on paper plates, and packing the car. Not to mention all the Florida-specific tasks like placing DampRid (bagged granules that soak up moisture) in closets, and last-minute saran wrap over the toilets (discouraging evaporation and possible critters from pipes).

      This year we're also moving things away from the windows for the workmen to install new ones. In theory, all the windows in the complex will be replaced while we're gone, but we suspect the process will be slow and still be in the works when we return next winter. 

      We leave tomorrow morning. In a walk around the complex I gathered some good-bye images:

Some are just the oddnesses we have around here, like these discarded shells from a local bird or animal's lunch. 

We must have fresh-water mussels in the ponds?

 

 

Or plants that before in the north I've only seen growing in pots.

When I was a little girl in Virginia, my mother used to have these on a window sill. 

Evidence of what a dry winter it's been. Without a rainy summer, this tiny pond may well be gone by the time we get back. 

The bunnies were out - and convinced that sitting veery, veery still would make them invisible. 

A delicate gray heron of some kind.

A magnolia bloom whose days in the Florida sun seemed as short as my own.

Marty puts down her drink and runs to the rescue.

 

       We’ve taken an almost proprietary interest in the little moorhen family that would appear and peck their way through the grass and water’s edge around our pond. Mom, Dad, and six tiny chicks, little black ping-pong balls. Their home base is probably the stand of grasses and water plants next to our bridge.

          While they’re good swimmers – sometimes diving under water to get to food – in spite of not having webbed feet (Thank you, Wikipedia), and can fly, I most often see the parents running hell-bent-for-leather across the ground as though they’re about to miss a bus.

         

So, there we were, My Guy and I, late one afternoon sitting fat and happy on the lanai, margaritas in hand, when he looks across to the bridge and says, “The otter’s after the moorhens!”  

          Well, we’re so invested in these little balls of fluff that when they appear near our unit, we always count to make sure all six babies are there. So, fueled by righteousness and alcohol, I leapt up, found my flip-flops and walked at top speed (no one wants to see me run) around two buildings, hoping to get to the scene of the crime in time.

          I rounded the second building and a second-floor couple standing on their lanai called down, “He’s after the chicks!”

          I clapped my hands loudly and a gray-black form shot out from the hedge next to the building and dashed back into the water. Let me tell you, he was huge, even bigger than our last sixteen pound house cat, what with that big thick tail.

          I marched back home, victorious. I hoped.

          That night, though, until the small hours of the morning, I could hear a bird calling with the regularity of an alarm that wouldn’t quit. I hoped it wasn’t the mom or dad calling for a missing chick.

          Ah well, I told myself, it’s the cycle of life. These are wild animals who live precarious lives. And so on and so forth. Sigh.

          And then, frabulous joy and excitement!! I looked outside today and saw both parents with all six chicks scrabbling away right outside our screens.

          We’re leaving here on Friday and none too soon. I want the happy end of this story to hold.

Rude Awakening

 

Tomorrow we’ll be listening as someone sings a thought we’ve all had – ‘If I were a rich man. . .’

Duty Done!

           Our next door neighbors here are so close that our porches sit side-by-side. We’re outwardly friendly, but like the big ole hypocrites we are, we avoid them with dodges and weaves worthy of any prizefighter in the ring.

Morning Constitutional

 

Another stroll around our quiet (especially now that many of us snowbirds have left) complex once again provided some unexpected sights.

Shameless or Brilliant Marketing?

 

As we were leaving the beach the other day, I noticed something that at first seemed out of context, but then realized it was perfectly placed. 

A Little Free Library

Disasters in Clay

Because last year we’d enjoyed our maiden voyage into the land of clay, my friend Ann and I returned to the Venice art center for another pottery class. Neither one of us lays any claim to artistic ability, but this seemed like something even we could do.

Beach morning

Today being about as perfect as a day can get, we decided to do breakfast on the beach. 

Rainy Day

 

Nothing gladdens the heart in the middle of a drought like a good rainstorm. Our totally fake ponds, not spring-fed, were looking very low. In fact, it’s been so dry this year that one of them has grassed over and will need mowing before long.

Babies, scooter, snakes, and rainbow

 

You would think that walking the around our complex would be tedious. I mean, it’s just a circle. About the only variety you can achieve is in which way you take it. Admittedly, I’m always listening to a book on my phone since I always feel like a hamster on her wheel by the time I’m in the second loop to gain some steps.

Day Trip

           So, just to get up and out, we took a drive to Matlacha, Florida, only a little over an hour away from us. Against all logic, it’s pronounced “mat-lah-SHAY.”

Limping and Blinking

There I was, on my way to bash that pickleball, when my sneaker hit the ground at an angle, my ankle did an unpleasant turn, and my knee was suddenly unhappy.

For Peg

   What with food prices on their alpine climb, I’m determined to eat down whatever we already have before the next trip. I’m one of the probably select few who doesn’t mind a trip to the grocery store, it combining two of my favorite things – shopping and food.

Clear-conscience shopping

          For the rest of the year, I live in a small town in Massachusetts that while lovely, isn’t close to much of anything. We have a couple of nearby good restaurants, but eating out usually means a drive of 45 minutes or an hour.

First came the goats . . .

 

I’d played pickleball for two hours in the morning, but then spent the afternoon just sitting, so it was time for a walk around the complex.

Mystery solved

 

Yesterday meandered by – up later than my usual leap-out-of-bed-at-7:00 to rush off and play pickleball. This meant comfy time on the couch with my cup of tea and latest mystery. Then a walk of two times around the complex, more reading, then to the pool to lounge and chat with people. Hedonist heaven.

          Like other days, when I didn’t actually have a book in my hand, I had one in my head. I truly love my airpods. I can listen while I’m changing beds, walking, making dinner, or for more of a challenge, while I’m also completing a crossword puzzle. I use them so much, and they and their case are so small, that I’m careful, careful about where I leave them.

          So, I came home from the pool, fiddled around with a few things, and then fixed dinner (Roasted shrimp & asparagus, caprese salad, box noodle mix), all while still listening to my book.

          When dinner was ready, I unplugged my head and then couldn’t find the case to put the airpods away. After dinner the search began in earnest: countertops, bedroom dresser top, beach bag, purse, bathroom counter. Twice. Then under chairs, bed, dresser; inside underwear drawer, kitchen junk drawer, office junk drawer, box where I throw my sunglasses after walking. Repeat. Nothing.

Homeless

          I finally ended up ordering a replacement case, knowing in my heart that that would ensure that the original case would magically appear. Except it didn’t last night.

          Today I poked around in the freezer, wondering what to make for dinner. Wasn’t there a chicken recipe I wanted to try? How many cans of tomatoes did it call for?

          Off to the office to pull out my big loose-leaf binder of clipped recipes.

          When I opened it – you guessed it – out fell the missing case.

The Loaner

 

My Guy needed my car for a lone day trip, since we thought it would be nice if he actually got to where he was going. His car, which we leave here in Florida, used to be my car.

Four out of four

 

If only I could say that the reason for this latest surge of images on the blog is that I’ve used up all my words through my writing.

While I did make some inroads on book 5 yesterday (finally!), accomplishing a couple of scenes and giving some thought to tying various characters into the happenings,

for the past several weeks I’ve been incredibly lazy. Fortunately, I’ve found one way to outwit myself: Get so far into the book that I can’t possibly walk away, leaving it unfinished and abandoning all that work I’d put into it.

          But never mind all that – in lieu of some deep thoughts on my part, here’s what My Guy entered into the latest modeling society competition. (A reader had expressed interest and requested more of these the last time I posted one of his entries, so here ya go.) 

       

 Usually not much taller than 4 or 5 inches, these are what is known in that world as “flats.” 

He buys the sculpted figure and then paints it, sometimes creating a backdrop for it. I think it was the backdrops that brought him into his other love - painting on canvas. 

This one of Robin Hood earned him a silver.

He won a bronze with the milkmaid:

This one earned him a silver:

And this brought home the gold:

Fabric Joy

(Warning - many pictures ahead.)

I went to an art show on Saturday. 

This show may have awakened that old urge to pore over bolts of fabric and thumb through quilting patterns. 

Aging Report

          I had a Zoom call with my three friends from high school – Washington-Lee in Arlington, VA to be exact. Truly a forgotten era, seeing as how not only is the building gone, a shiny new one replacing it probably decades ago, but the name exists no longer, either. It’s now Washington Liberty, which I suppose means the football team is no longer the Washington Generals. And in domino-style, I imagine the team colors are no longer blue and gray. . . and therefore, I imagine the yearbook I used to work on is no longer called the Blue and Gray either.

          Whew – I hadn’t followed all that to its logical end before.

          I envy those of you who are near your roots and see friends from long ago on a regular basis. As I’ve written before, the three of us are scattered over Massachusetts, West Virginia, Maryland, and Hawaii. Unsurprisingly, we haven’t gotten together in years. I haven’t seen our Hawaii member in decades.

          Last year we made noises about getting together, possibly near or at the West Coast to simplify travel for our island dweller. However, our Maryland friend fell while on a trip and broke her femur, resulting in months of recovery.

          We’re going to try again this fall, this time aiming for the Southwest – Santa Fe? Sedona? Somewhere artsy with good views, anyway.

We’ll see.

          The thing is, Hawaii friend seems none too healthy – diabetes, arthritis – and her husband just turned 102. Yes. Really. 102. So, I imagine she’ll have to line up care for him.

          It seems as though West Virginia friend can now barely walk, but she cheerily extolled the possibilities of airport wheelchairs. Okaaaay . . . . .

          Maryland friend is all healed up, and is probably just fine for the trip. Hard to tell, though. She has definite hypochondriacal tendencies.

          As the only one of the group with my own knees, whose only medication is a low-dose statin, I feel a bit like Wonder Woman, arthritis aside.

Sunday Stroll

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

A crabby crow

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.

Snippets

 

Yup, still here. And it’s not as though there’s been such a cavalcade of events that I’ve been too busy to post. Although there was that thrilling trip to Costco to re-stock our Glucosamine, and perhaps I could have written about how often I’ve been out to sweep the common hallway due to all the leaves blown in by the wind.

 

Almost parallel universes

 

          Here we are in the ‘sunshine state’. And sunshine we’ve got- plenty of it – but last night’s forecast included snow for parts of Florida.

Familiar Skills

          Last night was dinner out – not in an exciting-culinary-kind of way, but just a gathering of fellow residents contributing to the meal.

          I didn’t have much else going on, so I decided to make bread.

Holding Pattern

        I should be writing. Scads of time, but I’ve only achieved seven chapters so far and the procrastination is growing by the day.

Snowfall to sunset

        I remember Mama recounting tales from the days when we lived in Amherst, Massachusetts. I was barely there, being only two. My father was teaching at University of Mass – Poly Sci I think – but only briefly, before we all moved to Arlington, Va. after he was hired by CIA.

Food Fun

 

We’ve had a couple of Aldi food stores open our area. WinnDixie finally conceded the supermarket title to the omnipresent Publix, but apparently WinnDixie were bought by Aldi, who are now almost as ubiquitous around here as the big P.

          You can’t really go there with your full shopping list in your hand, but it’s fun if you like treasure hunting for bargains. And finding anything name-brand is a challenge, but I did snag that old standby Campbell’s tomato soup for 99 cents a can and then later saw it at Publix for $2.09.

          And I’m broadening my horizons

There was a row of mysterious brown root vegetables:

          Okay, yucas I know.  

         

And these apparently are balanca malangas.

  

      

And at first I figured the store was stumped here, just writing “name”.

 

But after looking it up later, I learned the
'name root' is a form of yam.

       

   But Whoa, Mama! Just look at this egg price.

Produce and pooches

 

With Sunday’s weather looming on the horizon, (today it was 74 in the morning, then dropped to 52 with high winds and rain in a span of one hour) My Guy and I figured we’d better get out and enjoy the day.

Tale from the slow lane

          We have a fully outfitted home here. You know – sheets, plates, pots, actual furniture to sit one. So why do I so often find myself at Home Goods?

          Or as I like to call it, Mecca.

Florida and fluids

         I’m not too sure where the last two weeks went.