Ducks of a Feather

Apparently we’re not the only ones about to up sticks.

On my walk around the complex with Mamie I counted approximately 50 ducks, unlike our usual 5 or 6. Maybe after their winter of snowbirding here, they’ve gathered the troops for the long trek home. One person who swears she saw them fanning out in patters on the grass said that she thinks it’s a training exercise so the less experienced teens born this year will know what their position is in the V.

I will say that it has all the earmarks of a somewhat contentious family reunion. You rarely see them all together; they’re usually in separate clumps here and there of 8 or 10.

Kind of like, “Okay, fine, I get that we all have to travel together, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend my down time with your family.”

The Long Goodbye

Like something out of Game of Thrones, the chilly North is closing in on us. So we’ve been behaving like people who believe (to take liberties with the quote from Auntie Mame), “Life is a banquet beach and most poor suckers are starving freezing to death!”

          We’re going home in a matter of days and we’re soaking up as much Florida as we can - breakfast on the beach, chalk festival in Sarasota.

    

      This past Saturday we took in a fabulous, fabulous performance by Alan Cummings, followed by a game on Sunday in Sarasota between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Boston Red Sox.

          Who knew Alan Cummings had such a great voice? The show was just him, backed by piano, trumpet, drums, guitar, and cello. In between songs he told jokes, dropped names, bemoaned growing older, and shared Hollywood gossip. As I said, Fabulous.

          The game was good, too. Of course I rate a professional baseball on a different scale than some. Sure, I want my team (Go Sox!) to win, but first it’s more about :

Is my seat comfortable?                     (Surprisingly roomy)

Any loud beer waving people nearby?     (Much of our section                                                                     was empty)

Sun in my face?                                    (Domed stadium. Genius!!)

And, oh yeah, can I see the field?         (Good seats. Right by third)

Ewww

Today I took Mamie to the groomer for a day of beauty. Actually, it was more of a necessity than one more frivolous spoiled-Florida-dog indulgence. The Mamester has hair, not fur, and without regular trips for a trim, she’d probably turn into a completely round ball of white that I could roll down the sidewalk.  

          Still, her coat is so soft, she’s delightful to pat when she’s all wooly. Kiddingly, last night My Guy and I recalled a person we’d seen on TV who, in a joke family gift-giving session, combed and spun the hair from the family dog and knitted a pair of shorts out of it. I relayed this to the groomer this morning and instead of smiling and dismissing me as just another nutty customer, told me her own story.

          As though it was the most normal thing in the world, she told me she’d actually worked with a fellow groomer who saved the clippings from her favorite dogs. Apparently she had blankets all over her house to remember them by.

          Agreed, right? That’s just creepy? 

One Hour - or - Home to Home

Most of the day lies ahead, but in my first hour out of bed today:

Delusions of Grandeur

     I went to Target looking for pasta bowls and curtains. Typical of many of my shopping trips, I came away instead with shorts and a beach shovel.

At Sea

Last week I felt at times as though I’d been dropped into one of my favorite movies, The 5^th Element, minus the aliens, Bruce Willis, and the threatened end of the universe.

Ups and Downs

     Children are sticky, demanding, and inconvenient.