Brrr...

Welcome snowbirds to frigid Florida!
Left the sweaters and coats home, eh?
While in the clothing store I watch our northern
neighbors frantically searching for sweaters
and sweats--anything to keep them warm.

When we moved here to Naples in 2002,
we didn’t bring anything that would
keep us warm. Who’d think that Florida
would get so cold? But we were fooled, too,
and tried desperately to find sweats--anything--
that would warm us up a notch.
Zip!

So, like our visitors, we endured the cold
weather for a few days--but these current
temps are hedging into two weeks!
I miss wearing my shorts and sandals.

I spoke to my Brooklyn friend, Delores recently,
before our cold snap. She was freezing in 23
degree temps and thinking of our 80 degree
weather I was presently enjoying.

Yep, Old Man Winter is throwing Florida
some pretty chill Arctic air, breaking records,
dipping into the low, frosty 30’s overnight.
The gulf waters are empty of swimmers, except
for 300# loggerheads coming back ashore.

We turn the oven on these mornings
to warm the house up. Daisy, our lovebird,
thaws her icy stick feet by the oven.
When I was a kid living in the foggy beach
city of Santa Monica, CA., mom would put
my school uniform on the oven door to warm
it up. Felt so good…

Cruiser, our resident Muscovy duck, waddled
quickly up the sidewalk after spotting me driving
back into the driveway yesterday--she knows
the car since she’s left her “calling card “
enough times beneath it.

After a few pats on her back, I threw her
a few bites of cinnamon bread.
I’m a soft touch…

With a north wind blowing today, as
usual these past few days, I’m snatching
a thick fleecy jacket from Jen’s closet,
since she’s away for a few days.
Feels so good as I slip it on, but with two
other layers, I feel like the little kid in
Christmas Story.
Daisy’s picked her snuggling spot on my
shoulder…

Please Mr. Weather Man, tell us that
our warm days are returning soon…

Ducking The Storm...

Recently, we had the mother of all storms.
Lightning hit all around the area with deafening
cracks of thunder.

Our resident duck, Cruiser, wet and bedraggled,
had just made its third pass around the house,
hoping to beg Paul or me for a tortilla chip
or bread handout.

The noisiest crack sounded overhead, sending
Cruiser running like its tail feathers were on fire.
Cruiser! Fly duck, fly!

The storm dumped 2” of rain in 30 minutes--
Cruiser's contribution, 3 clumps…
Water on the lanai came almost up to the
sliding doors, before finally seeping through
the drain channels on the decking.
The rain lessened, but the boomers were still
making me jump.

Cruiser came back a few days later, its
butt-waddling, bobbing-headed self cruising
by the computer room window.
She caught sight of me and picked up her
webbed feet, swaggering to the front door.

This weekend is promising a tropical wave, due
to sweep Florida’s east coast over to Naples.
I better clue Cruiser in…

Altered States

Nothing much has happened with Florida's weather
this summer--it's been hotter than a witch's
butt these days. The National Hurricane Center
forecasts a "near normal" hurricane season for
the Atlantic, with a 25% chance of above-normal
outbreaks and 25% chance of below-normal outbreaks;
overall, forecasters expressed a greater degree of
uncertainty this year than they have in past years.
NOAA predicts a 70% chance of the following:

• Named storms: 9-14
• Hurricanes: 4-7
• Major hurricanes: 1-3

When we first arrived in Naples as new residents,
the thunderstorms came like clockwork nearly
every afternoon--tremendous "crackers".
The storms were so terrifyingly exciting, we
filmed them.
We looked forward to the skyward electrical displays.

I also kept a hurricane diary.
In August of 2004, we had our first hurricane.
Charley was frightening. Talk about Friday the 13th!
Paul and I watched the leading bands creep
up from the south until the early morning hours.
It was eerie and heart palpitating.

Charley finally hit with a force around
1:25 p.m., uprooting two trees from our front yard.
The back yard and the street was a lake.

We've been through at least 4 hurricanes
since Charley; the last two years have
been very quiet, except for a few tropical
downpours.
The weather has definitely changed, not only
in Florida, but in so many other regions of the country.

I'm looking out from the top floor window in the
Books-A-Million bookstore.
The gulf side is dark with a few lightning streaks.
Looks like rain may be coming after all.

Boiling Points...

It’s been extremely hot and humid lately.

We’re in Stuart, Florida for Sunday-Monday.

It feels like we’ve been transported to Hell,

it’s so uncomfortable.

I wish I could shed my skin.

Paul ‘s fly fishing this Monday morning, at Bathtub Beach

on Hutchinson Island.

It’s 9a.m. and the temp is already 87 degrees.

Tom and I are watching the manatees swim by, while Paul’s

hooking up on snook and tarpon.

The bath house is under renovation, otherwise we’d be swimming.

After an hour or so of being deep-fried, we leave Paul

and we head to the historic downtown waterfront area

on the St. Lucie River.

Jen had told me about the cute shops and galleries.

The breeze is blowing, cooling our damp skin.

Tom is an outdoor, no shop kind of guy.

He wants to be in the High Sierras, smelling clean and cool

mountain air and swimming in June Lake.

Tom has Nordic-Germanic blood.

He would’ve been a great Mountain Man, like Jedediah Smith.

Tom and his dad used to swim in the cold, San Francisco Bay.

Florida is the polar opposite.

Water temps hover at 90+degrees in the summer.

By noon, the air temp has reached 95.

The heat index is 102.

We look like we’ve just come out of the drink, our clothes

are hanging in damp folds.

We dart in and out of the frigid stores.

Ahhhh…

The people in Stuart are sweet as punch and I sure

could use a rum punch or mojito about now, but alcohol

makes me feel warmer.

After another hour of hot-footing the town and eating lunch,

we’ve plunked ourselves in an air-conditioned library.

Tom reads Barron’s and I catch up on Dave Barry books.

We finally pick up a very hot and tired Paul, and begin
heading home.
We’re trying to find a gas station with cheap gas.
Sometimes I feel like we’re the Griswold’s on vacation.

We blunder into the first station, promising 4 cents

back with cash.

Ha-- only if you pay at the pump, which Tom doesn’t.

Just a block away we see gas 8 cents cheaper.
That makes Tom even hotter under the collar.

We’ve made headway onto the 95, until…

a multiple car pileup has stopped us.
Of course, the two left lanes of traffic are merging over

to our lane. We’re not going anywhere.

We’re traveling at worm speed…

After 20 minutes and several demolished cars
and suv's later, we’re driving non-stop.

Finally, we’re on Alligator Alley.

Naples is a good hour and forty minutes away.

Meanwhile I’m watching cruising alligators in the canals.
I've counted 12 already.

There’s something comforting when you finally make it home…

the driveway never looked so good.　 　

It's a Tropical Heatwave...

Floridians, myself included, are spoiled.
When the temperatures dip below 75, hoards of people
run to the stores to buy jackets and sweat shirts and sweat pants.
You would think a blizzard was coming!

For a few days last winter, it was downright chilly--in the low 50's and 60's.
My teeth were chattering while visitors from up north
and the midwest wore walking shorts, tank tops and sandals.
It was a heatwave to them!

Before moving to Florida, we sold many of our cold weather clothes
on Ebay and in garage sales.
No one needs a jacket in Florida--right?
Ha...