I do not have a Bucket List. I think it would be way too long and I could never complete it. My long distance traveling days are behind me. I missed that opportunity when I was younger, being committed to visiting family. Plus, I never had the money. I was busy raising my children and saving for retirement. I think I assumed I’d travel later….like now…but, unfortunately, I just don’t have the stamina. Can’t walk long distances. Can’t stand for long periods of time. I have structural issues. There are worse things.
So, there are lots of things I won’t do before I kick the bucket. I’m fine with that. I have My Favorite Things. Meditating, reading, writing, playing bridge, day tripping (you can take that any way you want!).
One of my favorite things is staying in Hilton Head Island….call me elitist or a one percenter. Fine. I love it here. I bought a couple of summer timeshares here sight unseen about 20 years ago and I’m still coming. Probably, one of the stupidest financial decisions I’ve ever made. I’m not an advocate and I have tried to get rid of them. Not gonna happen probably ’til I die. But, the hell with it.
This island is tailor made for golfers and tennis players, neither of which I am. I used to “play” golf, but never more than 9 holes and always with friends who cared as much as I did about keeping score. Most of the time, we played best ball….rarely was my ball the best ball. My short game was a lot better than my long game even though I took lessons about nine times. What I liked was the setting. Golf courses are beautiful albeit hellishly hot in the summer.
My timeshares are on a golf course bordered by a lagoon, where lots of herons, turtles and an alligator reside. I love my morning coffee and newspaper on the back deck overlooking this beauty. Fluffy, the gator, awaits my arrival then stares me down determined to get some morsel from me. NEVER FEED THE GATORS!! Duh….I know that, but people come down here from the midwest or wherever and think it’s okay even though there are a gazillion warnings. That’s why Fluffy waits. And waits. Sorry, Dude.
Then, there’s the beach. When I lived in Maryland and New England, we trekked to Cape Cod most summers for my beach fix. Yes, the beaches are lovely, the towns quaint and the local artists fabulous. But the water was FREEZING even in the dog days of summer. My heavens, I was raised in Florida …. bath water, baby!! That’s how I like it….warm and warmer. Hilton Head checked all those boxes.
Every time I come, I do the same things. Breakfast at Harold’s, lunch at Market Square Cafe, early bird special at Alexander’s. Harold’s is a hole in the wall, about the size of a large closet, owned by a guy from Boston who loves the Red Sox. There is not a square inch of wall space not covered by some bizarre saying like “Politicians and babies need changing—-often for the same reason” or “I don’t discriminate I hate everybody” or “Where the hell is Easy Street?”
I always order the same thing for lunch….a small Greek salad….hold the onions, and pepperoncinis, dressing on the side. Basically, I want lettuce, black olives and feta. Is that still a Greek salad? I feel like Sally in When Harry Met Sally….the waitress looks at me like I’m nuts.
Can’t beat Alexander’s….on the water….a lagoon, actually. I had never ordered anything but shrimp and grits until yesterday. Went with the blackened swordfish special. Amazing.
Went on the Wildlife and Gator boat tour … lots of gators, especially, mean mama gators
guarding their nests. The guide was a native Hilton Header….loves to get up close and personal….so close I almost jumped into Buff Honey’s lap!
Ending our week with a sunset dinner cruise Friday night. Never done that….never had someone I wanted to do it with…I love a little romance now and then.
Of course, there’s bridge…a competitive club that gives out a lot of master points. We’re racking up some points readying ourselves for the national tournament in Atlanta next week….gotta stay in shape!
The most striking feature here is that all the development has been built into the landscape as opposed to the Florida model. Raze all the natural beauty to the ground, build cookie cutter concrete block houses on postage stamp lots, plant a few flax lillies, a palm and call it a day.
The natural beauty here is stunning….primarily, pines and palmettos. A labyrinth of lagoons throughout the neighborhoods. The beach? Perfect. Wide, white sand and light waves in wonderfully warm water. I love that a couple of my good friends retired here….I may only see them once a year, but it’s like we never skipped a beat.
BH loves the fact that there’s so much shade….he was running at 7 this morning. Much easier than Florida. Yesterday, he was inquiring about the cost of houses. Of course, I’m sure that’s all pie in the sky. Not exactly the most impulsive soul I’ve ever known.
Two more days. Heading outside for coffee with Fluffy then off to the beach for some very light reading, Crazy Rich Asians. Very light reading, another favorite thing.
Thursday, July 26, 2018
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
NIMBY
Five years ago, BH and I dared to take the Snowbird flight to Venice. Why Venice? Because spring training is in Sarasota where the Baltimore Orioles spend February and March. Why not Sarasota? Not one for planning, the only hotel rooms BH could find were in Venice.
Serendipitous, I might add. Venice is one beautiful, historic town, developed in the mid 1920s, designed in Mediterranean architecture style. Unfortunately, the town went under during the Great Depression, but was saved by the Kentucky Military Institute, which wintered in its hotels.
Miraculously, the town is 80% preserved. I say miraculous because Florida never met a developer it didn’t sleep with. Those local commissioners just roll over and look the other way, as bulldozers raze every shred of natural beauty and replace them with cookie cutter gated and not so gated communities.
I should know. I live in one. And, I love it here. This development, however, has preserved areas for the gators, birds, armadillos, panthers, boars and bunnies to coexist peacefully. That comes at a price. These wonders of nature are completely surrounded by crazy humans, who get incensed if one blade of grass on their perfectly manicured lawn is disturbed.
Just ask the poor mother boar who had the nerve to walk her eight babies around the pond in front of the community center. Every day she’d come out and every day, a few of those baby boars disappeared. And, then, there were none.
But, I digress. The second year we came, five more local developments were in progress and the next year, 10 more. And, next year, the Atlanta Braves are moving their spring training camp three miles down the road from us. NOOOOO! STOP!!!
This area has become the fastest growing area for retirees in the country. I can’t stand it. Does it impact my quality of life? Well, yeah…the traffic during the winter rivals the Washington Beltway, the wait times for the early bird specials are ridiculous, and the happy hour reduced rates conveniently disappear. I am a bonafide NIMBY….not in my backyard, PUHLEEZE. But, it’s Florida where every commissioner has a open wallet for developers.
I remember the Real Florida. Actually, the Real Old Florida. My grandparents moved to Orlando in 1926 way before concrete houses and before anyone owned cars. My granddaddy walked five miles from the country into Orlando to sell shoes.
My parents married in 1945 and my granddaddy gifted them a lot down the road, where my uncles and Daddy built a two bedroom house out of a barracks from the local air force base.
It was completed just before I arrived. The front porch was added for my sister’s birth and the back porch two years later for my brother.
Our house was on a paved road but most of the houses were on sand roads. Not all of them had indoor plumbing. I remember walking a lot….down to my grandparents, to the lake, to our little town of Pinecastle. The whistle blew at noon every day loud enough for the entire state to hear. The railroad traveled though our town, stopping at a little depot next to the feed store.
It was a dairy farming community.
There was a five and dime store where I remembered my mom buying me a lucky rabbit’s foot. I carried it everywhere. I remember getting my hair permed at Miss Quimby’s beauty salon. Why? I have no idea. I was born with curly hair. I remember getting chocolate malts at Doc’s drug store. There was Lonnie’s grocery store that we frequented every single day because my mom wasn’t a dinner planner. Nor could she cook. I grew up on Chef-Boy-R-Dee spaghetti. ‘Nuff said.
There was no air conditioning. Yep. NO AC!!! We depended on fans and lake breezes and shuttered windows. Sleeping was brutal….it wasn’t enough that it was boiling but there was always a mosquito or two feasting on you. Once, I got bitten on the lip by a spider, went to the bathroom and started screaming my head off. My lip was the size of a heirloom tomato. It was grotesque. But, the swelling soon disappeared and I survived.
Much of Florida was still a jungle back then. We were country kids, roaming freely to friends’ houses and playing tag, Mother May I, and games created on the spur of the moment. Of course, we ran into possums, raccoons and snakes. One of my earliest memories is watching my mom hacking a coral snake to death with a hoe.
The only time I remember wearing shoes was to school and to church. Obviously, the reason I have wide feet today. My mom made all my clothes with the exception of underwear, socks and pajamas. At the time I was embarrassed by it because so many of my friends wore store bought dresses. But, now, I’m really proud of her. Some of my best memories are of us going to fabric stores and picking out patterns and fabrics.
Naturally, this was all pre-Disney. OMG! What did we do for family entertainment before Disney? Endless possibilities. Gatorland on Orange Blossom Trail. Cypress Gardens and the waterskiing show. Glass bottom boats at Silver Springs. Sanlando Springs with the huge slide that I never ever got up the nerve to go down. The one movie showing at the Beacham Theatre on Orange Avenue. Many nights, we played the piano and sang songs or listened to the radio shows, like The Lone Ranger and I Remember Mama.
This was back when Orlando truly was the City Beautiful. Now, I’m nauseated by the overdevelopment and overwhelming traffic in my hometown. But, there’s no stopping “progress,” especially, when “progress” equates to greed.
So, yes, I have my little piece of paradise here in Venice, and, no, I’m not thrilled at the pace of new construction. I got mine and, now, I want to shut the door. Yes, I admit I’m a true hypocrit, but, after all, I’ve seen up close and personal what happens.
Serendipitous, I might add. Venice is one beautiful, historic town, developed in the mid 1920s, designed in Mediterranean architecture style. Unfortunately, the town went under during the Great Depression, but was saved by the Kentucky Military Institute, which wintered in its hotels.
Miraculously, the town is 80% preserved. I say miraculous because Florida never met a developer it didn’t sleep with. Those local commissioners just roll over and look the other way, as bulldozers raze every shred of natural beauty and replace them with cookie cutter gated and not so gated communities.
I should know. I live in one. And, I love it here. This development, however, has preserved areas for the gators, birds, armadillos, panthers, boars and bunnies to coexist peacefully. That comes at a price. These wonders of nature are completely surrounded by crazy humans, who get incensed if one blade of grass on their perfectly manicured lawn is disturbed.
Just ask the poor mother boar who had the nerve to walk her eight babies around the pond in front of the community center. Every day she’d come out and every day, a few of those baby boars disappeared. And, then, there were none.
But, I digress. The second year we came, five more local developments were in progress and the next year, 10 more. And, next year, the Atlanta Braves are moving their spring training camp three miles down the road from us. NOOOOO! STOP!!!
This area has become the fastest growing area for retirees in the country. I can’t stand it. Does it impact my quality of life? Well, yeah…the traffic during the winter rivals the Washington Beltway, the wait times for the early bird specials are ridiculous, and the happy hour reduced rates conveniently disappear. I am a bonafide NIMBY….not in my backyard, PUHLEEZE. But, it’s Florida where every commissioner has a open wallet for developers.
I remember the Real Florida. Actually, the Real Old Florida. My grandparents moved to Orlando in 1926 way before concrete houses and before anyone owned cars. My granddaddy walked five miles from the country into Orlando to sell shoes.
My parents married in 1945 and my granddaddy gifted them a lot down the road, where my uncles and Daddy built a two bedroom house out of a barracks from the local air force base.
It was completed just before I arrived. The front porch was added for my sister’s birth and the back porch two years later for my brother.
Our house was on a paved road but most of the houses were on sand roads. Not all of them had indoor plumbing. I remember walking a lot….down to my grandparents, to the lake, to our little town of Pinecastle. The whistle blew at noon every day loud enough for the entire state to hear. The railroad traveled though our town, stopping at a little depot next to the feed store.
It was a dairy farming community.
There was a five and dime store where I remembered my mom buying me a lucky rabbit’s foot. I carried it everywhere. I remember getting my hair permed at Miss Quimby’s beauty salon. Why? I have no idea. I was born with curly hair. I remember getting chocolate malts at Doc’s drug store. There was Lonnie’s grocery store that we frequented every single day because my mom wasn’t a dinner planner. Nor could she cook. I grew up on Chef-Boy-R-Dee spaghetti. ‘Nuff said.
There was no air conditioning. Yep. NO AC!!! We depended on fans and lake breezes and shuttered windows. Sleeping was brutal….it wasn’t enough that it was boiling but there was always a mosquito or two feasting on you. Once, I got bitten on the lip by a spider, went to the bathroom and started screaming my head off. My lip was the size of a heirloom tomato. It was grotesque. But, the swelling soon disappeared and I survived.
Much of Florida was still a jungle back then. We were country kids, roaming freely to friends’ houses and playing tag, Mother May I, and games created on the spur of the moment. Of course, we ran into possums, raccoons and snakes. One of my earliest memories is watching my mom hacking a coral snake to death with a hoe.
The only time I remember wearing shoes was to school and to church. Obviously, the reason I have wide feet today. My mom made all my clothes with the exception of underwear, socks and pajamas. At the time I was embarrassed by it because so many of my friends wore store bought dresses. But, now, I’m really proud of her. Some of my best memories are of us going to fabric stores and picking out patterns and fabrics.
Naturally, this was all pre-Disney. OMG! What did we do for family entertainment before Disney? Endless possibilities. Gatorland on Orange Blossom Trail. Cypress Gardens and the waterskiing show. Glass bottom boats at Silver Springs. Sanlando Springs with the huge slide that I never ever got up the nerve to go down. The one movie showing at the Beacham Theatre on Orange Avenue. Many nights, we played the piano and sang songs or listened to the radio shows, like The Lone Ranger and I Remember Mama.
This was back when Orlando truly was the City Beautiful. Now, I’m nauseated by the overdevelopment and overwhelming traffic in my hometown. But, there’s no stopping “progress,” especially, when “progress” equates to greed.
So, yes, I have my little piece of paradise here in Venice, and, no, I’m not thrilled at the pace of new construction. I got mine and, now, I want to shut the door. Yes, I admit I’m a true hypocrit, but, after all, I’ve seen up close and personal what happens.
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
Home Sweet Home
Schlepped to Florida in November driving both cars, leaving 40 degree weather for the low 80s…..ahhhh….perfect for late afternoon sunset meditations. Of course, all is not sweetness and light. The yard and plants have gone to hell in a hand basket.
Weeds growing up through the brick pavers around the pool are about a foot high. The Mexican petunias have spread like wildfire. Any plant you can buy for $1.99 should be a tip off that this is no deal. Invasive? Ya think? The root structure rivals downtown Manhattan.
Hurricane Irma was good to us….no damage to the house or the pool cage. But, several of the hibiscus plants remind me of downward dog pose…. except, they’re never ever gonna straighten up. The oleander tree by the front door is infested with hairy caterpillars, who are fattening up on the leaves. The weeds are in their happy place oblivious to the fact that we are going to battle. I will win even if it kills me….which it won’t, just my back.
I won’t bore you with the details, but it took six weeks working a couple of hours a day then jumping in the pool for an immediate cool down. I am the queen of trimming plants to practically nothing, which breaks Buff Honey’s heart but they always come back fuller than ever. We’ve had a complete yard makeover, HGTV worthy.
What a delightful winter! Never turned on the heat. Closed the windows two days, the rest of the time was glorious with soft breezes floating through the house. January through March are busy with our snowbird friends who flock down here ….a few parties, treks to Tightwad Tuesdays at the Venice movie theatre, day trips to state parks and old Florida habitats. Of course, there are sunsets on the beach and a happy hour for every day of the week, if you’re so inclined.
Playing bridge is our mutual interest so we invest four afternoons a week to challenging ourselves against a whole lot of other good players. Florida happens to be a Mecca for the best players in the world. Not sure that’s a good thing.
BH started looking for a new car to replace his 2002 Solara convertible. Only a convertible will do. No more Toyota convertibles being manufactured but he's not buying a BMW or Mercedes. What to do? Go to Maaco and get a new paint job! No more dents or scratches. The car is gorgeous! Now, it’s time for new leather upholstery. Four more years and it will be a classic!
Toward the end of March, he announces, “Sugar, I’m going to sell the Olney house.” WHAT?!!
“I’m tired of paying bills on two houses. I just want to settle here.” OMG! I was completely blindsided. It’s not like we ever really discussed it.
I loved being back in Florida that first year we were down here in 2013. Truly, I’d forgotten how much I missed it. The winters were fabulous! Sunbathing on Caspersen Beach the first week in January!? Amazing. Then, April rolled around and BH was chomping at the bit to get back to Maryland. I never loved the Olney house….so much work to be done. Overwhelming but we tackled it. Never finished it, but, really, is a house ever finished? Not on my budget!
Each year was harder for him to go back to Maryland and each year was easier for me. I couldn’t wait to get back for Mother’s Day and birthday parties and summer gatherings. But, I should’ve had a clue when he started cleaning like a mad man a couple of summers ago. Countless trips to the landfill, the local thrift shop, Goodwill. We were on a first name basis there.
When he had the roof replaced last spring, I definitely should’ve known. My God, he had spent the last three summers interviewing 14 roofing companies! Bear in mind, these were all companies who just happened to be driving around the neighborhood and noticed how bad the roof looked. Why 14 companies?! He was curious to compare their sales pitches. I really wanted to warn these guys but tuned out and excused myself to the office to read. I never thought for a minute he was going to replace the roof until he absolutely had to….which meant he wasn’t going to do it until he put the house on the market.
And what about the weeks he spent cleaning up the backyard? And having 12 trees trimmed? We could even see the park from the deck. For years, I didn’t even know there was a park in
back of the house, it was so overgrown.
What prompted the move this year? Well, all eight of our kids and married and have their own homes. They’re all very healthy and, certainly, reasonable happy. But, I think the deciding factor was that the bridge game in Florida starts at one o’clock in the afternoon rather than 10 in the morning. The man rises at dawn and runs or bikes like a maniac and requires a few hours to recover. He needs his morning down time to read the USA Today, the Wall Street Journal and the local Herald Tribune.
So, the house went on the market. It’s in one of the most family-friendly neighborhoods I’ve ever lived in. Schools within walking distance, parks scattered throughout the area, no crime. He hired a realtor, who hired a stager, who contracted workers to do a myriad of things to the house we were too lazy to do.
It sold in two days. And closed in three weeks. We returned to Maryland, and in four days, the house was completely empty. Cleaning out that house was a living nightmare. Don’t know what we would’ve done without family and friends and the Salvation Army! The ordeal was exhausting yet exhilarating. Frustrating, at times; hilarious, at others.
Now, we are both Floridians. I am sweltering through my first Florida summer since 1970. Still battling those weeds and Mexican petunias, but I’ll take it over snow, sleet and ice any day! Naturally, I miss my family so, this year, I’ll be making six trips back to Maryland. Probably, a bit excessive, but, hey, I’m the mom/grammy.
Bottom line. I love my life with BH and our home sweet home.
Weeds growing up through the brick pavers around the pool are about a foot high. The Mexican petunias have spread like wildfire. Any plant you can buy for $1.99 should be a tip off that this is no deal. Invasive? Ya think? The root structure rivals downtown Manhattan.
Hurricane Irma was good to us….no damage to the house or the pool cage. But, several of the hibiscus plants remind me of downward dog pose…. except, they’re never ever gonna straighten up. The oleander tree by the front door is infested with hairy caterpillars, who are fattening up on the leaves. The weeds are in their happy place oblivious to the fact that we are going to battle. I will win even if it kills me….which it won’t, just my back.
I won’t bore you with the details, but it took six weeks working a couple of hours a day then jumping in the pool for an immediate cool down. I am the queen of trimming plants to practically nothing, which breaks Buff Honey’s heart but they always come back fuller than ever. We’ve had a complete yard makeover, HGTV worthy.
What a delightful winter! Never turned on the heat. Closed the windows two days, the rest of the time was glorious with soft breezes floating through the house. January through March are busy with our snowbird friends who flock down here ….a few parties, treks to Tightwad Tuesdays at the Venice movie theatre, day trips to state parks and old Florida habitats. Of course, there are sunsets on the beach and a happy hour for every day of the week, if you’re so inclined.
Playing bridge is our mutual interest so we invest four afternoons a week to challenging ourselves against a whole lot of other good players. Florida happens to be a Mecca for the best players in the world. Not sure that’s a good thing.
BH started looking for a new car to replace his 2002 Solara convertible. Only a convertible will do. No more Toyota convertibles being manufactured but he's not buying a BMW or Mercedes. What to do? Go to Maaco and get a new paint job! No more dents or scratches. The car is gorgeous! Now, it’s time for new leather upholstery. Four more years and it will be a classic!
Toward the end of March, he announces, “Sugar, I’m going to sell the Olney house.” WHAT?!!
“I’m tired of paying bills on two houses. I just want to settle here.” OMG! I was completely blindsided. It’s not like we ever really discussed it.
I loved being back in Florida that first year we were down here in 2013. Truly, I’d forgotten how much I missed it. The winters were fabulous! Sunbathing on Caspersen Beach the first week in January!? Amazing. Then, April rolled around and BH was chomping at the bit to get back to Maryland. I never loved the Olney house….so much work to be done. Overwhelming but we tackled it. Never finished it, but, really, is a house ever finished? Not on my budget!
Each year was harder for him to go back to Maryland and each year was easier for me. I couldn’t wait to get back for Mother’s Day and birthday parties and summer gatherings. But, I should’ve had a clue when he started cleaning like a mad man a couple of summers ago. Countless trips to the landfill, the local thrift shop, Goodwill. We were on a first name basis there.
When he had the roof replaced last spring, I definitely should’ve known. My God, he had spent the last three summers interviewing 14 roofing companies! Bear in mind, these were all companies who just happened to be driving around the neighborhood and noticed how bad the roof looked. Why 14 companies?! He was curious to compare their sales pitches. I really wanted to warn these guys but tuned out and excused myself to the office to read. I never thought for a minute he was going to replace the roof until he absolutely had to….which meant he wasn’t going to do it until he put the house on the market.
And what about the weeks he spent cleaning up the backyard? And having 12 trees trimmed? We could even see the park from the deck. For years, I didn’t even know there was a park in
back of the house, it was so overgrown.
What prompted the move this year? Well, all eight of our kids and married and have their own homes. They’re all very healthy and, certainly, reasonable happy. But, I think the deciding factor was that the bridge game in Florida starts at one o’clock in the afternoon rather than 10 in the morning. The man rises at dawn and runs or bikes like a maniac and requires a few hours to recover. He needs his morning down time to read the USA Today, the Wall Street Journal and the local Herald Tribune.
So, the house went on the market. It’s in one of the most family-friendly neighborhoods I’ve ever lived in. Schools within walking distance, parks scattered throughout the area, no crime. He hired a realtor, who hired a stager, who contracted workers to do a myriad of things to the house we were too lazy to do.
It sold in two days. And closed in three weeks. We returned to Maryland, and in four days, the house was completely empty. Cleaning out that house was a living nightmare. Don’t know what we would’ve done without family and friends and the Salvation Army! The ordeal was exhausting yet exhilarating. Frustrating, at times; hilarious, at others.
Now, we are both Floridians. I am sweltering through my first Florida summer since 1970. Still battling those weeds and Mexican petunias, but I’ll take it over snow, sleet and ice any day! Naturally, I miss my family so, this year, I’ll be making six trips back to Maryland. Probably, a bit excessive, but, hey, I’m the mom/grammy.
Bottom line. I love my life with BH and our home sweet home.
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