Minnesota at Last

TripPix.

We thought Tuesday would be an easy day, and it certainly started off that way. We felt we were home when we crossed the border into Wisconsin, not far from Illinois.

The morning was chilly but we really weren't prepared for the sleet when we stopped for lunch near Menomonie. The sleet got worse but turned to a cold rain by the time we crossed the St. Croix River into Minnesota in the early afternoon.

We picked up our mail and were soon in our own garage. Unpacking most of our stuff was fairly easy and we were both happy to be home. Sunshine briefly graced the sky at the end of another great day.

I ♥ Minnesota.

Practice Safe Text in Tennessee

TripPix.

Monday was another long driving day, starting in Decatur, Alabama, through Tennessee, part of Kentucky and almost the entire length of Illinois to Rockford. As we approached Nashville, I kept seeing a very catchy sign: Practice Safe Text. Don't Do It While Driving. Turns out the electronic billboard must have been the winner in a contest: great idea and even better message. In the morning, we entered our home central time zone and thereby gave ourselves another hour on the road.

During the long drive through Illinois, as the weather changed from spring in the south to near winter in the north, I thought about the strain of political campaigning in a large state like this one. The culture changes from southern to midwestern in only a few hours, and it must be difficult to spin an honest, effective message on the campaign trail.

We were both quite "shredded" by the time the day ended at about 6:30 p.m. An error in judgment led us to another Comfort Inn, lodging that must be the absolute worst in that hotel row just off I39. The full dumpster behind the hotel gave me a bad feeling, as did the old carpeting and decades old furniture. I was surprised that the WiFi worked quite well and TV wasn't bad either. Nevertheless, I felt we -- or at least I -- deserved better and immediately decided that I would splurge on my hair as soon as we got home.

Bob correctly noted that it was clean and the bed was very comfortable. He also liked the smell of cleaning products in the hallways and the fact that the desk clerk walked around the breakfast room with a disinfectant bottle, cleaning tables with what looked like a clean rag.

I couldn't wait to leave Rockford on Tuesday morning.

Sweet Home Alabama

TripPix.

We were on the road before 6:00 a.m. Sunday and spent the morning in Florida. We entered the Central time zone and crossed into Alabama almost concurrently. The Welcome Center is knew, and Bob noted right away that the parking area is badly designed, but I thought the entire area was just fine. Until we went through Alabama a month ago, I thought Sweet Home Alabama was the name of a movie. I didn’t realize it’s a phrase used everywhere at taken seriously by everyone. Unfortunately, the photo I took of the Sweet Home Alabama sign was ruined by my thumb print.

My first – and ongoing – impression is that the people are so courteous. The ladies behind the counter in the Welcome Center put me and my sometimes fake Minnesota Nice personality to shame. They greeted me warmly with what seemed like the utmost sincerity.

Later on, a little boy of about five held the door for me and another child at a gas station greeted me with a sweet “Hello Ma’am”. I think I need to work on my manners, and I know I'd like to return to Alabama for a real visit sometime.

We drove into the parking lot at the Comfort Inn in Decatur, Alabama shortly before 5:00 p.m. I’m ashamed to admit that somewhere along the way I’ve become a fussy snob. The hotel was perfectly fine, and for $65 (with a coupon I got at the Welcome Center), it was a bargain. After all, we were at the hotel for only a couple of hours, but I ungratefully think we should have held out for something a little more upscale.

I’ve stayed in my share of real dumps, and this place was a palace compared to many of them. I kicked up my feet to watch a little TV and slept like a (good) baby. The next morning's breakfast was excellent and we were on the road by 8:00 a.m.

Last Days

Last sunset

 
 
TripPix.



The jetpack guy

Friday was a beautiful day. We had lunch at The Moon Under Water with friends from the Ottawa area, who winter in St. Petersburg. Linda O. and I were high school classmates and we've enjoying getting to know each other as adults. It was a steamy day, so it was nice to be sheltered from the sun on the restaurant's porch. The food was very good: a half-order of fish & chips for each of the man, a salad for Linda, and the "lunch express" special of soup, salad and half sandwich for me. After lunch we did a little grocery shopping and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon on the deck.




Torrential rain

The biggest thrill of the afternoon was watching a guy with a jetpack high above the water in front of our condo. After a spectacular sunset on Pass-a-Grille, we treated ourselves to ice cream at Paradise Sweets. I've (mostly) avoided rich foods this year but I did have a toasted coconut cone yesterday and it was both delicious and easy on the digestive system. Bob enjoyed his usual butter pecan -- last one until next year.

I got my swim in this morning well before 9:00 a.m. but soon after, the winds came up and the rain began to fall. Bob was sitting on the front deck watching the weather but he came in suddenly when a sheet of torrential rain threatened to drench him. Gulf Boulevard filled with rain again, and we imagined the little Corvette here, with water over the hood. Glad we left it at home, safely stored until mid-April.

We used our time to pack for our departure tomorrow and had a late lunch at Leverock's bore Mass at 4:00 p.m. Bob put most of our things in a cart and filled the car, with only a few items left for tomorrow. We expect to be heading north early Sunday morning.

Eye Opener

TripPix.

On Wednesday afternoon when we were at Bubba Gump's for lunch, Bob's sunglasses fell apart. Bob dropped the lens and loose screw into one of the baggies I carry in my purse. The first hit on my "optician St. Pete Beach" Google query was Modern Optics on Corey Avenue, only a mile or so from our condo.

The next morning, a few hours into a warm, bright Florida day, we parked on Corey and Bob went into the store to have the screw tightened. Meanwhile, I took a few pictures on this interesting street and did a little window shopping. After ten minutes or so, I finally decided to check on him. I found him at the counter looking at frames. There was no charge for the screw repair.

Modern Optics serves a clientele from all over the country. I was immediately drawn into the discussion and started trying on frames, surprised that I looked great in a large pair of rectangular sunglasses, very different from the round red ones I wear now. The optician -- very knowledgeagle and a great marketer too --  gave me about a dozen pairs to experiment with, all of them wide enough for my broad face. Some glasses had flexible plastic bows, and almost all frames were available in a wide selection of colors and patterns. I was almost prepared to buy a pair on the spot.

We're very happy with our eyewear provider but we learned that our frames are discontinued models, one explanation for the low price we paid. I also discovered that larger "everyday" glasses look better on me than the narrow ones I wear now, and I know that the no-line bifocal would be better in one of the frames I tried on. And why wouldn't I wear a more "daring" frame now that I'm retired? I certainly don't have to project a "conservative" or "serious" image.

One more useful snippet of information: prescription swim goggles don't have to be out of reach either. I always thought they would be prohibitively expensive but that's not the case. I quickly found several websites with online ordering.

We wondered if a similar provider exists in the Twin Cities, and found several possible candidates, including the Spectacle Shoppe in Minneapolis. Because of our visit, we're thinking differently about future eyewear purchases now.

Missing Laughter and Noise

Bob, Adam, John, Trudy, Mitchell

Adam, Trudy, Mitchell

 TripPix.




Mitch in the hammock

We've been empty nesters for a decade now, so it shouldn't be hard to get used to a silent house ... but it is. We enjoyed the hours of swimming in the pool, time at the beach and meals at restaurants in the St. Pete area. Not much quiet time!


Our latest visitors, Trudy, John, Adam and Mitchell, left early this morning. We dropped them off at Tampa International Airport before 5:00 a.m. and came home to a dark, empty apartment. Bob read the newspaper and I did a little housecleaning and laundry before my 8:00 a.m. swim.



Adam on the beach at dusk

Adam and Mitchell have grown up a lot since their last Florida vacation with us. Mitchell reminded me that they're "teenagers now", a little anticipatory in his case, since he won't actually be 13 until late May. Their interests have evolved, and to no one's surprise, both have the Hennessey car and boat gene. They also have a great sense of humor, and I miss their jokes and laughter.

Yesterday, we enjoyed our last day at the beach and a little junket to John's Pass. The sunset across Gulf Boulevard was muted, like my mood as I watched everyone pack up.

Florida Orange Groves Winery

Outside the winery, facing Pasadena Boulevard

TripPix.

We've gone by Florida Orange Groves Winery many times on our way to our from a destination across the Corey Causeway between St. Pete Beach and South Pasadena. We never stopped until today, when Trudy suggested we visit on this very rainy Tuesday.

Gift shop

We arrived just as a tour was beginning. Our guide was the very knowledgeable Vince Schnook, who owns the winery with his parents. The operation was different from wineries we've been to in France and the Napa Valley, which were either ancient (France) or quite automated (California). We started our tour just outside the gift shop. My mind wandered a little in the fermenting room, where one of the group had many questions of little or no general interest.

I did retain the information that the fermenting room is kept at a steady 58F, and I was glad to be wearing my Minnesota Vikings windbreaker. We moved into the bottling room, where two younger men were rinsing bottles, filling them with wine (in this case, St. Pete Sangria), inserting corks and adding labels.

Mitchell and John

The corking process was partly manual, because on this day the corks were imprinted with a special design that had to be inserted right side up. A laser printer produced the labels on stickers that were machine-pasted to the bottles and then visually inspected. One of the men corrected improperly positioned labels and filled a case of 12, sealed it, and stacked it on a cart. The tasks seemed monotonous, just the kind of work I would enjoy doing.

The winery's objective is to make wines that taste like the fruit of origin, and the few wines that I tasted certainly seemed to taste a little like the juice used to produce them. We looked around the little gift shop and bought a few items. Bob got a bottle of CocoLada, his favorite among the wine samples he tasted. Adam's purchase, Key Lime cookies, were a hit with all of us.

We exited the winery into the pouring rain and went off to a late lunch at Leverock's.

Skyway Bridge Revisited

TripPix.

John, Trudy, Adam, Mitchell, Bob

When we're in this part of Florida we cross the Skyway Bridge and visit the fishing pier at the south end, a Florida State Park. I've written about it before, most recently in 2015.

In the past, we've been there on scorching sunny days. This year was different: the usually glittering bridge almost disappeared in the haze and the usual crowds were absent. Instead, we saw only a few committed fishermen along the pier, ones who paid the $4.00 per vehicle, $4.00 per adult to fish for 24-hour fishing access. One group set up food, including a crockpot and various main dishes covered in foil.


Cath and Bob

No luck seeing either dolphins in the choppy water or any significant catch. A lone great egret stalked the pier for castoffs and an older fisherman explained his fishing methodology to willing listeners -- that means everyone but me. My picture taking was unsatisfactory because of the dense air, but the pier was peaceful, except for one fisherman who ranted about a driver who had recently ruined favorite fishing spots by driving his car off the pier.

Before we left for home, I Googled the incident, a tragedy that occurred just before Christmas last year, evoking sobering thoughts that are better left unshared.

We stopped at Sea Critters for John's birthday lunch and crossed over to the other side of Pass-a- Grille to gather seashells. In the evening, dolphins swam in the bay as darkness descended.

Lap Swim

TripPix.

I've always been a good - but never great - swimmer. Most of the kids in my hometown of Temiscaming were competent in the water. We all had access to free swimming lessons, taught every summer by Red Cross certified instructors from July 1 through the Friday before Labor Day.

We began at the Beginner level, subdivided in the early 50s by lifeguard Brian Richards  into Minnows, Salamanders, Pikes and Turtles, and went all the way through to Seniors at our beloved waterfront. This  wonderful swimming area in the Ottawa River, made safe by a design that clearly separated shallow from deep water and provided three "pools", each about 25 yards in length, for swimming lessons and lap swimming, or "length swimming" in our lexicon . Some teenagers also continued lifesaving training and took advantage of the opportunity to earn the Royal Life Saving Society Bronze Medallion and Award of Merit.

I taught swimming myself and I enjoyed it very much, especially when the kids were Juniors. Most were in that delightful middle school range, ranging in age from about 9 though 12. And, although the discipline of serious swimming always bored me, I liked training kids to swim laps, because a few skills like breathing technique, energy saving during stroke recovery, and turning between laps make all the difference.

I've never had a lap routine in Florida or anywhere else we've gone on vacation. However, this year I found the monotony of swimming back and forth, front crawl one way and backstroke the other, very soothing and before I knew it, I was swimming laps. I started with 10 laps of 20 yards or so each and soon found myself wanting more.

The first time I swam 40 laps I was quite tired and I needed to take fairly frequent breaks, and I was afraid of falling as I struggled for stability getting out of the pool. Now the routine is easy and my balance is much better.

Early in March the weather was cold and I had no competition for the pool in the morning or late evening. Over the last few weeks, several lap swimmers have come and gone, and the current guy is a better swimmer than I. However, he doesn't breathe between strokes and tends to swim across the pool rather that in the usual way. One day we swam together lengthwise, an unsatisfactory arrangement because he tended to drift over and crowd the pool.

Now, if I get to the pool shortly after 8:00 a.m., I can complete my swim well ahead of the swimmer guy and before the kids show up for the day. My overall objective is to get stronger after all those months that I was sick. Seems to be working so far.

Easter Weekend on the Beach

TripPix.




Mitch, Trudy, John, Adam in the pool

When I went to the office on Friday to get a parking permit for our spring break visitors, I learned the resort is full for the next week and there are no permits available. Moreover, the city is so packed that there is no parking anywhere, and the vehicles of offenders will be towed, or so we were told. Oh oh. I checked parking online and couldn't find a spot using apps for several parking services. Finally, Bob called John, who cancelled the rental car.

We picked up Trudy, John, Adam and Mitchell on Friday evening. Fortunately, their flight was on time and we were home shortly after 11 p.m. We were happy to know for sure that the third seat of the Traverse does indeed hold two passengers with room for one more, so Bob's claim that he has a 7-person vehicle seems to be true.



Trudy, John, Mitch, Bob, Adam at Gulfport

The weekend passed very quickly. The boys love the pool and the not-so-warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico as well. Last night, the younger Hennesseys went out for Easter festivities on the beach, and this morning we all went to a very early Mass. Today Adam and Mitchell bought boogie boards, which were fun on this very windy day when the surf was high.

After  researching home remedies for the sunburn on his face, Mitch finally settled on plain yogurt, spread liberally under his eyes, as well as a "miracle skin regenerator" that was sitting unused in my skin care bag.

The hazy sky may be an early indicator of the "weather" we've been promised since yesterday. Otherwise, it's a quiet evening on Gulf Boulevard.

Ms. Clean

I nearly always leave a vacation rental cleaner than I find it. When we're in Florida for a month, I clean and do laundry several times a week. Bathrooms and the kitchen get a good cleaning before guests arrive and after they leave. I always feel satisfied after I finish, even though the job is far from perfect. Bob jokes that he's going to get me a job cleaning vacated condos, but I know my skills and effort aren't up to professional standards.

This Good Friday morning, a time I often devote to Easter cleaning at home in Saint Paul,  I performed the usual tasks, including a quick once over of the deck furniture, and am listening to a load of laundry complete its last rinse cycle. I hear kids playing in the pool and am looking forward to the visit of grandchildren Adam and Mitchell, as well as their parents Trudy and John. Easter weekend will be more lively than usual, and we're looking forward to their cheerful presence.

A little grocery shopping and we're done with scheduled work for the day. Looks as though the rain will hold off so we'll find something fun to keep us occupied. At home, we'd go to Good Friday services in the evening, one of two in our large parish, but there's only one at the traditional 3:00 p.m. time at St. John Vianney Church and I'm not sure that we'll make it.

I love the clean smells and the faint odor of salt from the Gulf of Mexico. I'm trying to ignore the occasional strong whiffs of sewage from the pumping station across the street.

Save my Seat!

Saved spots around the pool

TripPix.

There's nothing that seems to annoy people more than "saving" seats, and yet so many people do it that I sometimes wonder about the universality of the annoyance. In our parish, the pastor put an end to seat saving for popular ceremonies, like school events, Christmas Eve and the Easter Vigil. I was surprised that he succeeded, because the practice prevailed for many years without any evident opposition.

At nearly every resort, the seat savers run to the pool early in the morning and get what they consider to be the best spots, usually for the sun exposure. I hardly ever care, because all I need is any dry surface for my swim bag or, often, just my towel, cover-up and glasses case.

This morning, seat saving seemed a little excessive, especially for a cloudy day. I'm laughing at the prospect of a fight -- and I'm sure I'll see one some day, though perhaps not among this population of relatively quiet vacationers.

Alone for Now

TripPix.

My sister Marilyn arrived last Wednesday evening and left this morning. The weather was less than ideal during her visit but we enjoyed lots of activities anyway. Since we grew up in the northern community of Temiscaming, Québec, neither of us minds swimming in cooler temperatures so we did plenty of it. Of course, we swam in warm pool fit for cold water sissies, but no matter: we were out there!

Yesterday was a cold day in this part of Florida, even for Minnesotans. We woke up to the mid-fifties, so Bob and I wore shorts, but most people we saw were bundled up, as we would be in below 0F temps. We decided on a visit to De Soto Park, one of our favorite destinations in the St. Pete area, and for the first time hardly anyone was in the park. When we arrived in the late morning, the wind chill cooled the air by about 20 degrees.

At the beach, near shore birds -- some of them migrating north -- were feeding as the tide receded. I got some good pictures, but my favorite memory isn't visual. Instead, it's the noise made by the laughing gulls whenever a child tried to approach the area occupied by the birds. Loud enough to frighten anyone off, including me!

We watched the kite sailing on North Beach, marvelously colorful in the rough waves. Before leaving the park, we stopped at the fishing pier, usually filled with people from many lands enjoying a day of fishing. Yesterday, it was empty but the three of us resolutely walked to the end, hoping for dolphins. No luck this time.

Today, we delivered Marilyn to Tampa International Airport and stopped for breakfast at Skidder's. It felt strange to be by ourselves once again but we are enjoying our "down" day. I love a good day of housecleaning and laundry!

Finished with work early enough to watch the baseball game in Cuba between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Cuban National Team. ESPN's coverage is excellent and very sensitive to today's horrific ISIS attacks in Brussels. The interview with President Obama was thoughtful and intelligent, and it seems that his visit to Cuba is very successful so far.

We're all ready for the arrival late Friday of our next visitors.

Don't Forget a Jacket

Sailboat in the fog

TripPix.

In all the years we've been vacationing in Florida, this is the most unusual weather-wise.

Even in years when we had only 7-8 days, a day of rain was unusual. I remember weeks of unremitting sun when I wouldn't even unfold my sweatshirt. Tampa Bay boasts of so many days of sunshine in a year (sources vary in their reports, from a low of 246 to a high of 360) that sun lovers want to hop on a plane right away, and the fair skinned like me pack plenty of sunscreen.

My resident weather watcher started looking at St. Pete Beach weather in January and by February he thought we might have a "cooler than average" month of March. He was right. The first couple of days we were here, I was the only swimmer whenever I went down to the pool. The "wind chill" was such that I started using the hot tub for the first time ever, learning -- rather late in life -- that a few minutes of heat will keep me warm until I get back to our condo.

Flooding on Gulf Boulevard

Last week, the famous Sunshine Bridge was closed twice because of fog, trapping commuters on the bridge for seven hours last Tuesday. Our resort handyman told me a closing of the bridge increased the commute by 75 miles. That's if you're smart enough to avoid the bridge when fog begins to form.

Saturday we experienced heavy rain and today feels like the Twin Cities on a cold Labor Day. It's my sister Marilyn's last day in Florida, but the pool will have to suffice. Today is no beach day! But it is Florida and the sun is shining.

Destination Dali, St. Petersburg

Gala Contemplating the Mediterranean Sea

TripPix.

Yesterday was a perfect time to visit the famous Dali Museum in St. Petersburg. A cool breeze from Tampa Bay wafted through the gardens and it was almost difficult to go inside for the day. No need to be concerned, though, because the beautiful beach neighborhood is visible from the geodesic dome in this unique building.


I always thought Dali was a little too crazy for my taste, but I discovered that Dali pursued some of my own obsessions (and more) with such brilliance that I was totally drawn into his surrealistic universe. The permanent collection is excellent, the best in the world, I think. Dali himself attended the opening of the museum in 1982.

One painting that attracts a lot of interest is Gala Contemplating the Mediterranean Sea. At 20 meters the picture of the artist's wife becomes a portrait of Lincoln. I didn't see Lincoln until I looked at the small picture on my camera, but Bob got a clear picture by squinting.



Mirror, mirror on the wall ...

I hadn't known about his relationship with Walt Disney until yesterday. In fact, Disney wrote a fan letter to Dali after he saw one his animators reading The Secret Life of Salvador Dalí. In 1945, Disney and Dali began collaborating on the production of the animated film Destino, finally completed in 2003 by Walt Disney's nephew Roy, who had discovered the project while working on Fantasia 2000. The exhibit Disney and Dali: Architects of the Imagination is so interesting and entertaining that I can't wait to look at offerings on the Disney Channel when I get home.

We walked outside to the lovely gardens. I loved taking pictures looking into reflections in the dome, but my entertainment was cut short when my ride started to leave without me. My sister Marilyn treated us to a delicious lunch at the Parkshore Grill, a perfect end to a great day.

Day at the Beach

Trip Pix.

I tend to prefer a pool to fresh water swimming -- I like to see the bottom and not worry about what might swim by me. When I swim in cold  Minnesota lakes, I like depths of over 100 feet so that I don't have to touch bottom. In salt water, I'm always a little afraid of sharks, jelly fish and sting rays, even though an encounter with any one of them is highly unlikely.

The first year visited Cocoa Beach, sometime in the late nineties, I rediscovered the fun of swimming in high waves. Our last trip to the Atlantic side was a six weeks after my first knee replacement, and my balance was too shaky to swim in the waves. The following year, we moved over to tamer (mostly) St. Pete Beach, and we've always had a great pool, so our beach swimming is much less frequent.



Don Cesar Hotel in the distance

Yesterday seemed like a perfect day to spend at the beach: a mid-week day with lots of sun, not too hot. We weren't disappointed, though plenty of others had the same idea and we had to drive to Pass-a-Grille, south on the Don Cesar Hotel, to find a parking space. We hoisted out bag chairs on our shoulders and walked across the boardwalk to the beach, carrying only our towels, sunscreen, water and small camera.

The water was surprisingly refreshing and therapeutic, quickly giving me a feeling of extreme wellbeing. Just as surprising was Bob's wisdom in packing up after a couple of hours, before the sun burned through our sunscreen and protective covering.

Turns out the beach was the best idea, because the pool was full of bathers when we returned home. I washed our salty swimwear and enjoyed the cool of the late afternoon.

Mini-Tuesday: March 15, 2016

TripPix.

I'm a political junkie; always have been.  I think this primary season is my favorite campaign of all time, even better than the 1980 Canadian federal election. As a staffer for then MP Senator Marcel Prud'homme, I was personally involved in that one, and I was proud to play a small role in Canadian political history.

My other favorite campaign was a 1964 peak into the future, when I followed the fictional campaign "Pettigrew for President 1976", a visionary 10-issue story in Catholic comic book Treasure Chest. Until I looked it up just now, I had actually forgotten that Tim Pettigrew was an African American candidate, and this must have been a daring story or a Catholic children's publication during the Civil Rights movement.

Voters cast their ballots in five states today, including Florida, Illinois, Missouri, North Carolina, and Ohio. This is Republican candidate Marco Rubio's home state, but Donald Trump is ahead and all political ads have become very aggressive and nasty.

This NY Times analysis identifies some key metrics to review when I watch election returns this evening. Donald Trump seems to have a formula that targets a rapidly eroding traditional Republican base by appealing to voter insecurities and fears. Today may be a day when the Republican field narrows, and while I dread the prospect of 1237 delegates committed to Trump, I am as fascinated watching his campaign as I am when a  hawk descends on some helpless prey here around Boca Ciega Bay.

Where the Heck is Clam Bayou?

TripPix.

Got a later start today because we spent a couple of hours in the pool this morning - very refreshing hours, because the water is cooler than it's been in the past. The water temperature could still lose a couple of degrees; the cooler, the better!

I wanted to visit Clam Bayou but didn't pay any attention to the coordinates, because I wanted Bob to do a GPS search for this destination. He's getting proficient at using the GPS, a new tool for him because I've always been the navigator, but it seems like a good idea for him to know how to use it.

The GPS didn't recognize the name of the park, and by the time I stopped fiddling with it, we were already in Gulfport. I pulled out my cell phone, which had us follow Gulfport Boulevard until it turned into 22nd Avenue, and then turn right on Quincy. This route took us through a shabby neighborhood and the street stopped at a dead end. We turned around and, sure enough, we could see water behind a gated fence on our right, but since neither one of us was prepared to scale a fence, we hightailed it back to 22nd Avenue and went into Gulfport, figuring we deserved lunch at O'Maddy's.

After lunch, we walked out on the pier. A warm breeze was blowing off the gulf and whitecaps made navigation difficult for the few boats on the water. We didn't stay long because we wanted to make 4:00 p.m. Mass at St. John Vianney.

Clam Bayou will have to wait for another day. We weren't far from 34th Ave. S. & 40th St. S., which I should have found on my phone. I'm not quite as smart with that new phone as I'd thought I was!

Fun Day in St. Petersburg

TripPix.

Cath and Linda

Linda O. and I were classmates at De La Salle High School in Temiscaming, Québec hometown, but we weren't particularly close. It's been a joy to get to know her over the last couple of years, from our Temiscaming reunions in the fall and a couple of lunches here in Florida. Our husbands also get along well, so I was looking forward to today's lunch at Jack's London Grill, suggested by Linda.

The restaurant looked very ordinary from the outside but the food was excellent: Bob and Linda shared a corned beef sandwich, I had a simple garden salad with grilled chicken and goat cheese, and Linda's husband ordered the lamb. All beautifully prepared and delicious.

Our server offered us an impressive number of dessert choices, including several crème brûlée variations, so I wondered about the chef. Turns out he is Master Chef Peter Leonavicius (a Lithuanian name) so I'm very curious about the restaurant's story. Anyway, it's a good place to eat.

Hard to get a good picture from behind a fence

We enjoyed catching up and then went on to our afternoon activities. Bob was very keen on going to downtown St. Petersburg to see the Grand Prix preparations, which had, in fact, kept us from choosing a downtown location for lunch. In his inimitable way, he found a good place to park, not far from the track.

Feeling happy after the trials

The racers were getting ready for trial runs so we got to watch for a while. Even though we were behind two fences, we did see the track and the cars quite well. Bob was enjoying himself so much that his pleasure was contagious, and I had a great time watching him as well as the cars.

We stopped at Barnes & Noble for a needed restroom break (me) and a couple of beverages (frappuccino for Bob, Earl Grey tea for me). The traffic was heavy but not impossible on the way home and we enjoyed a quick dip in the pool when we arrived home after another perfect day.

On Wisconsin!

TripPix.

Common wisdom: never discuss religion or politics. I don't mind talking about either, but I do avoid football and hockey, and throw in the defunct Montreal Expos. Such conversations always leave me resentful and angry: the Vikings have never won a Super Bowl, neither the Wild or Minnesota's beloved NorthStars has brought home a Stanley Cup, and the Montreal Expos  lost the 1981 National League pennant to the Los Angeles Dodgers. All stomach churners guaranteed to ruin the rest of my day.

It's ironic that some of the people I like best and enjoy the most love sports, among them fans of the Chicago Black Hawks (a team I love to hate, and the Green Bay Packers, long time nemesis of the Minnesota Vikings.

I've judiciously avoided the subject of football with our Wisconsin friends Carol and Joe, who invited us to a poolside lunch, including he group they socialize with over cards and conversation nearly every day.

Joe grilled Wisconsin hot dogs and Carol set a beautiful table with appetizers, fruit, salad, and a whipped cream cake made with peanut butter and chocolate chips. The best in Midwestern hospitality: we enjoyed pleasant conversation with our table mates and swam in the pool after lunch.

At the end of the afternoon, I checked on my current obsession (primary politics - March 8 results here. We had a light supper and walked a cross the street to enjoy the sunset.

Every Day is the Best Day

TripPix.

I've always loved to swim, in any weather, except in a thunderstorm. My siblings and I grew up in Temiscaming, a pulp mill town in northwestern Québec, where we swam in the Ottawa River all summer. In early July, our eyeballs froze from the cold and by Labor Day the water was getting cold again. The season was brief but Temiscaming kids loved those long summer days at the waterfront.

I last swam there in the late sixties, but I'm still an all weather swimmer. This season, St. Pete Beach mornings and evenings have been chilly, but not in our resort's beautiful pool. A friend from Wisconsin greeted me from her balcony when I was swimming laps this morning, and I yelled that today is the "best day yet!".

As I swam back back and forth, feeling strong and healthy, I reflected that every day is the best day, full of surprises and opportunity.

St. Petersburg Grand Prix

TripPix.

We've enjoyed watching the preparations for the St. Petersburg Grand Prix for several years now. Until this year, the race has always been several weeks later, so we've always been on our way home, or home already, on the day of the race. This year we will be in St. Pete Beach for the race, so we could go to the race if we wanted to do so.

We were in St. Petersburg today and much of the downtown area is already blocked off for a full weekend of activities. The main even is Sunday, on a street course near the downtown St. Petersburg waterfront. The party atmosphere includes live entertainment and the opportunity to meet a number of celebrity athletes.

I've always kind of wanted to go to a car race, but I think it might get tedious after a while and it would certainly be too noisy for my sensitive ears. Years ago, I enjoyed hearing the roar of engines many miles away on Montreal Grand Prix day. Maybe I'll hear them this weekend on St. Pete Beach, 10 miles from the course.

Vacation Icebreaker

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About ten years ago I ordered a Minnesota Vikings shell jacket offered free with a subscription to Sports Illustrated. I wore the jacket so much that the zipper was shot in a couple of years. Fortunately, Sports Illustrated had another promotion and I somehow ended up with two more jackets. When we travel, I leave one in the vehicle and the other in our hotel room or condo.

It's perfect because it's light enough to roll up in my purse, and yet it keeps me warm on a windy day. Perfect for bicycling or a walk on a chilly spring day.

Its best attribute is its use as an icebreaker. Wherever I go, people strike up a conversation, sometimes about the Vikings or other Minnesota sports teams, sometimes about Minnesota in general -- or any other topic.

Other Minnesotans smile at me on elevators or in the street. Wisconsin fans of the Green Bay Packers hurl a friendly insult. Everybody smiles.

Pelicans, Herons and Egrets



Pelicans on the  dock

Great egret waiting for a handout

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We have pelicans, herons and egrets in Minnesota, but they're not nearly as common as they are here in Florida, and of course they're very seasonal residents of the north country. I can't get enough of them here!

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The other day, we met a young man in Gulfport who told us he loves all the birds on the Gulf Coast. As a fisherman, he regularly pulls in one of the shore birds on his line, and often spends many hours pulling hooks caught in the birds' backs and untangling fishing line, his own and older line that sometimes wraps itself around their neck or legs. I have a new admiration for people who do this -- and I've seen disentangling work quite often. A few years ago, my sister Marilyn helped a fisherman performing such a task.

This afternoon I watched a couple of commercial fishermen fillet fish at one of the docks in Blind Pass. The guys threw skin, tails and guts to the pelicans swimming close together in the area below the dock, each greedily jumping at the treats and even attempting to grab food out of one another's long beaks.

A snowy egret sat quietly to the right of one of the fishermen, waiting for special handouts, regularly thrown to him. He was clearly a favorite, and it seemed that the egret actually got fillets, not just scraps. One was so large that the bird had trouble swallowing the big chunk of fish.

These beautiful birds seem so vulnerable to environmental messes created by humans, but today I felt hopeful and certain that much is right with the world.

Lenten Fish Fry

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Every year we see a notice in St. John Vianney's Sunday bulletin for a fish fry on the Fridays of Lent. I've always been somewhat interested in attending, but not until today did Bob show any enthusiasm at all.

After an afternoon in the pool, we showered and enjoyed our view of the gulf for an hour or so on the front balcony. As we drove to church, I felt somewhat apprehensive, knowing that St. John's would be written off if the fish meal (baked or fried fish, French fries, cole slaw, hush puppies, beverage, dessert) turned out less than "good".

My concern was unwarranted. The parish hall was crowded but the event was well organized and we were soon seated at a long cafeteria table, beside an older couple originally from Maine. The husband, an Air Force veteran, had spent time at Fort Snelling (Minnesota) in the early 1960s.

Our dinner companion had a comment on every subject, including politics, football (he'd once met former Vikings quarterback Fran Tarkenton in St. Pete Beach), Rotary International, the Tampa Bay Symphony. He founded an electronics company forty years ago and firmly believes that "if you can stay awake for eight hours, you can make money in St. Pete".

We enjoyed our meal very much. Bob had apple cobbler with ice cream for dessert (delicious) and I saved my butterscotch brownie for later consumption. We were particularly impressed with the happy and competent volunteers, who provided an excellent meal, served promptly and with impressive efficiency. All for $20, including the $2 donation Bob left on the way out.

Accident on Gulf Boulevard

Accident scene in front of our building

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We often hear sirens, especially in the evening. For the most part, we've learned to ignore them: Gulf Boulevard is busy most of the day and night so occasional incidents are inevitable.

While we were eating dinner on Thursday, we heard sirens from several different vehicles stop in quick succession, obviously very near us. Bob couldn't resist going outside and I soon followed, with my camera, of course. The emergency vehicle response (two fire, several police, one paramedic) seemed excessive for what looked like a minor accident between two vehicles facing north on Gulf Boulevard. Bob summed it sum as "Piece of sh__ car hits nice car and nice car calls police".

It was dark at 7:00 p.m. and we were too far to hear any conversation on the street below. Five or six police officers spent what seemed like forever around the POS car. Eventually, both vehicles involved in the accident turned into TradeWinds Resort , turned around and drove south on Gulf Boulevard.

Our Osprey Family

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We checked on our osprey family right after we arrived. We soon saw the familiar white breast of one of the parents guarding the nest from a high branch in the tree across the bay from us. It's quite far away so it's hard to get a half decent shot from the balcony.



Last winter we watched the adult birds for several weeks, until all activity around the nest suddenly stopped. We sadly concluded that some predator had stolen the eggs and the adults had no reason to stay around.

On our first day we witnessed a couple of crows trying to gain access to the nest. The osprey sentinel fought them off but the attack almost seemed like a test run for a pair of clever crows. The osprey would be a poor match for an aggressive, determined team of crows. I just read an interesting article about the life of the crow, and it seems that their predator behavior is not uncommon.

I was surprised that the 50X zoom of the little Canon PowerShot SX530 does a great job, rivaling the long lens of the Canon Rebel.

Feels like Home

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We've spent five of our six St. Pete Beach vacations at The Sunrise Resort. This is our second year in the same condo unit, and we were at home the minute we walked in. Love the fresh new couch and loveseat, as well as the faster Internet access.



I never tire of a sunrise over St. Petersburg

Our first day was very quiet. We took care of checking in first thing in the morning and had breakfast on Pass-a-Grille, at our favorite Seahorse Restaurant, followed by a quick visit to Land's End.  Picked up groceries at Publix. We ran into our friend Carol Van Ells, who has been a regular here for many years.

I walked on the beach across Gulf Boulevard after lunch while Bob napped -- well deserved after a couple of grueling days on the road. I went for my evening swim after dinner. Heaven for me!

The night was dark and filled with the familiar sounds of our March home.