Posted on February 25, 2013
My husband reminds me once a month how long it is until Christmas; today was his reminder for February that we have ten months to go. Ugh! That’s my first thought. Then I remember this is a man who loves Christmas: the gifts, the tree, the poinsettias, the food, the religious services.
The thing is Earl is married to someone who isn’t particularly crazy about the holiday. She’d rather focus on birthdays. So for the record, her next birthday looms long before Christmas. So does Earl’s for that matter; and I found him perusing catalogs today with gifts in mind. But not for me; I don’t crave a microwave egg sandwich maker.
What I notice most about today is that the daylight hours are significantly greater than they were a couple months ago. It used to be dark at five o’clock; now we wait until after six o’clock for lurking shadows. It means we’re getting to the point in the year where I trade longer reading time in the evenings in front of a cozy fire for upcoming gardening projects as the heat of the day wanes. It means I’ll be on the lookout for tulip sightings. It means our patio furniture soon will make an encore appearance.
Then Earl comes and reminds me that Daylight Savings Time begins on March 10. I don’t see any sense to changing the clock twice a year, but I do it to keep in step. The thing is that my son Kevin, his partner Lonna, and I leave for Italy that day. So it’s really important that the three of us have our clocks set to the correct time. Otherwise, we could be stranded at O’Hare as the plane we are supposed to be on left an hour ago. Right now, I’m thinking about this more than I’m thinking about Christmas.
Besides, I’ll be back from Italy in time for Earl to make his monthly announcement for March.
See more 10 Minutes in category Things to Ponder
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Posted on February 23, 2013
Yesterday Earl and I drove six hundred miles north from Knoxville to arrive home as the sun was setting somewhere. We had returned to the Land of Eternal Winter Grayness, so a sunset was no longer part of our daily enjoyment. No matter. We were glad to cruise into town between predicted snowy blasts.
When we left three weeks ago we watched the outdoor temperature climb from a chilly eighteen degrees. As we drove further south, we shed various layers of clothing. Now, we reversed the trend, although Earl refused to don his winter jacket to the bitter end.
On the way south, we examined rest areas and mile markers. On the way north, we watched those signs that tell you what chain restaurants are available at a certain exit. (We are easily amused.)
As one drives south, Starbuck’s becomes less available. Since I have a line of credit on a Starbuck’s card, I noticed this early on. The coffee giant seems to be more of a northern phenomenon to the point where there is no Starbuck’s between Key Largo and Key West, Florida. That’s approximately a one hundred mile stretch.
However, there are two franchises that crop up more frequently. Perhaps they’re more “southern”: Chick-fill-A and Waffle House. On this trip, we sampled the former but not the latter. And we found them from the road signs on the interstate highways. (We found Starbuck’s that way too.)
Yesterday, driving north near Hamilton, Kentucky, we saw a road sign that promoted all three chains. We had to stop. Earl called it the “Trifecta,” but I prefer to think it is a new demarcation of the Mason-Dixon Line. According to Wikipedia, this is the “cultural boundary between the northeastern United States and the Southern United States.” Granted, we weren’t in the northeastern U. S., but otherwise I think the definition fits.
See more 10 Minutes in category Dining/Food, Travel
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Posted on February 19, 2013
We spent today exploring what The Villages has to offer from a golf cart point of view. It was as if we’d entered an amusement park for go-cart addicts where every vehicle zipped right and zoomed left and pushed to the max registering ten miles an hour. It reminded me of Disney’s long-ago cartoon “Wind in the Willows,” where Toad went on a wild spree.
Earl did his best to match Toad’s escapades. As for me, I found it great fun just to roam the countryside in a little golf cart. Still, it made me question two things: 1. Would Segues work here, given our recent experience in St. Maartin’s and 2. Are there funeral homes here, Given that Earl works part-time at a funeral home back home?
I don’t have the answer to either of these questions, but they are food for thought when we plan next year’s vacation.
See more 10 Minutes in category Travel
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Posted on February 18, 2013
We’d heard of The Villages from other Michigan residents who seek respite from winter’s onslaught each year in Florida. It’s supposed to be a retirees’ dream come true, with year-round golf, homes in every price range, restaurants, movie theatres, and trendy shops a golf cart ride away. Ninety-two thousand people already live there.
It wasn’t particularly my cup of tea, but Earl had wanted to visit for some time. So as we began our trek home to Michigan from southern Florida we booked two days at The Villages, which is located north of Orlando in a sleepy town called Lady Lake. We’re here now, in our hotel for the night after a walking exploration of the area. Here are my first impressions . . . and I’ll try to be objective so you can make up your own minds.
The receptionist at our hotel probably draws Social Security, as opposed to the various receptionists we’ve met in other places who probably have a long way to go. At first I wondered if she would be able to process our reservation. Then, as she shows herself to be an expert, I change my line of thought to “What a great place where older people can be productive if they want.” I mean it too.
There seems to be more golf carts than cars. And they are tricked out with every conceivable convenience: isinglass covers, his and her monograms, upholstery that announces the owners’ alma maters. They remind me of Amish buggies without the horses.
There is dancing on the square every night from 5 PM to 9 PM. I happened to commandeer Earl into dancing with me, but he lucked out when the musicians were winding down the particular song. We shuffled for maybe ten seconds and called it a night. Perhaps other retirees like to dance more than Earl does.
Tomorrow we’re heading out to see what else The Villages has to offer for people, like us, who don’t play golf and don’t own a golf cart. I suspect Earl will like what we see more than I do. If that’s the case and he wants to return, I promise to visit him.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene
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Posted on February 16, 2013
Yesterday, after having lunch at Sloppy Joe’s (See previous blog post), Earl and I went on a dolphin safari with his son, Rich, as our boat’s captain. We had hardly gotten started when we sighted our first dolphin hanging out near some residential docks.
“That’s Grady,” Rich said, although I honestly don’t know how he knew the mammal’s name.
But as Rich noted, this took the monkey off his back in terms of offering what the tour promised. However, he was a long way from being done. For the next hour or so our boat literally “swam with the dolphins” as they jumped, dived, and floated around us. There must have been fifteen or more just hanging out. Just like we were.
Earl and I have been on other dolphins tours. We’ve also been in the water with tamed dolphins and ridden them by holding onto their dorsal fins. But we have never seen as many being active for so long as we did today. It was something to remember.
See more 10 Minutes in category Flora/Fauna
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Posted on February 15, 2013
We are like the swallows that return to San Juan Capistrano, although the analogy really ends with the concept of returning. We don’t arrive in Key West on the same day each year. We don’t settle in for seven months, and we don’t build mud huts. Tourists don’t find us particularly interesting either.
No matter. Every winter when we come south I get this urge to return to Key West. There are many reasons to visit, but the only “must” reason is to eat at Sloppy Joe’s Bar on Duval Street. This morning we did just that.
Sloppy Joe’s claims to be where the sandwich of the same name was invented. It may or may not be true – depending on which local inhabitant you talk with – but it doesn’t matter. Both Earl and I believe Sloppy Joe’s sloppy joe is the best on the planet. Yes, I said the planet.
Entering the esablishment from various wide open doors, you seat yourself, signal a server, and settle in to watch the people, most of whom definitely have a tourist pedigree. A guitarist accompanied by an invisible back-up band on a singalong CD takes you back to your folk rock days. Bobbie McGee returns too.
Soon your sandwich arrives, and it is a work of culinary art in a cardboard container. The giant bun is grilled before the messy meaty concoction of beef, onions, and tomato sauce is generously ladled on top. Given the sweet taste of the sandwich, I think green chilis are the secret ingredient; but I can’t document this. We chomp and chew in silence while the guitarist wails. It’s not even Noon, and we’ve hit the high point of the day.
No swallows could ever have felt more excited.
See more 10 Minutes in category Dining/Food
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Posted on February 13, 2013
We’re four days down the road from exiting the Allure of the Seas; since then a Carnival line ship has been subject to a fire that stopped all other systems on the ship: commode flushing, air conditioning, lighting, and food service. Think of it as survival in the desert.
In addition, a former California police officer has gone viral in more ways than one. He’s targeted to kill various individuals whom, he believes, have done him gross injustices. And this has become a national headline story. Even as I write this, we’re not sure of the outcome.
Then the Pope resigns; the US President gives his State of the Union speech, and some weird species of dog wins the 137th Westminster Kennel Club’s “Best in Show.”
All the while, Earl and I are in our villa in Marathon, FL, trying to relax on vacation while still keeping in touch. It’s a lot to absorb.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene
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Posted on February 10, 2013
A week ago today Earl and I boarded Royal Caribbean’s Allure of the Seas for our seven day cruise to the Caribbean. And now we’re settled in a condo on Marathon Key, Florida. Where did the past week go?
I will say this cruise held particular logistical problems, starting from when we made our final payment the beginning of December until we actually boarded the ship. In fact, I was prepared to carry this huge shoulder chip on board and mentally record every interaction with cruise staff, every meal at the various venues, and every possible comparison to our favorite cruise line, Princess.
What my analysis taught me is that the people on shore who answer questions about a pending cruise don’t really have the slightest idea of what the true answers are. I arrived at what is called Guest Services early on our first day on board, loaded with questions to which I had received conflicting answers as a thank you for our final payment. But the staff at Guest Services was knowledgeable, understanding, and sympathetic. I began to relax.
It’s true I spent much mental time comparing Royal Caribbean to Princess, and I must admit I prefer the latter. It seems like a real cruise ship instead of an amusement park that floats. It has a lot more wood than glass and metal. The food is better, and the things that older people (That would be Earl and me) like to do are easily accessible instead of in the dungeon of the ship. I also didn’t know that Royal Caribbean was trying to be a Disney wannabe with its relationship with Dreamworks’ characters. We hadn’t brought anybody under age ten, so the Madagascar characters and the Shrek characters and the Kung Fu Panda characters left us cold.
At the same time, when we left the ship at 7 AM this morning, I was sad. Cruising is like being in a cocoon for the duration with minions to make your bed, feed you, offer libations, and cater to your every need. It’s easy to get used to.
So as we passed through customs as has-beens, I looked up at the Allure and secretly said “Goodbye.” You’re not my favorite ship, but you beat not taking a cruise at all.
See more 10 Minutes in category Travel
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Posted on February 6, 2013
This is my final blog before my new page, “Potpourri,” appears next week. Between now and then, my tech people are working feverishly to make everything work smoothly. They’ve asked that I not gum the works by adding content right now.
This is fine with me, as Earl and I left dry land last Sunday and are now docked in St. Thomas, USVI, getting ready to snorkel with turtles. We’d done this a couple years ago and really enjoyed it, although I suspect the turtles won’t remember. Long lives don’t necessarily equate with long memories.
Tomorrow we’re taking segway lessons in St. Martin’s and the day after we’re dressing for Formal Night on the ship. Then there is just one day to go before we return to Ft. Lauderdale and the next part of our winter getaway in the Florida Keys. By then, I hope my tech team gives me the high sign that “Potpourri” is up and running; and I can once again spew forth on subjects large and small.
See more 10 Minutes in category Technology
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Posted on February 3, 2013
About ten days ago I posted that I am going to become my own publisher and put my work on my website under a new category called “Potpourri.” We’re getting close to the launch date, and I am adding content regularly. I also hope to have a feature where you can comment or pass on the story in question.
First offerings are about an old woman at a cocktail party, a short-short that recently won honorable mention in a contest, and two teenagers’ efforts to keep their record intact for being the last customers at the local Dairy Dream when it closes each November. Then there’s the children’s story about an invisible bear and another one about a baby with unusual abilities. Plus a poem or two.
I’m reminded of Eva Cassidy, songstress with an interest in many different genres who died from cancer in 1996 at age thirty-three. She was a relative unknown at the time, partially because she didn’t want to be pigeonholed into one type of music. Due to her belief that she wanted to sing what she wanted to sing, she ultimately refused a recording contract with a company that
might have made her famous if she had complied with its demands.
I don’t want to specialize either. I want to write what inspires me, whether it’s memorable or not. So look for “Potpourri” in the coming days and know it’s not going to be all one thing or another. It’s just going to be what it is.
See more 10 Minutes in category Writing
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