Just Beachy...

Reptilius Wrinkilum, characterized by and resembling
shed snake skin, is an affliction shared by those
humans who don't look like pancake batter.

Add a little unwanted 'real estate' and behold--it's
a sight: Rippled layers of varnished, lizard-like skin
that appears to have been squashed by a Goodyear tire,
then stretched past the known capacity of nylon and spandex.
In other words, miles of beach-tanned, bikini-ed and
Speedo-ed torsos, frolicking back and forth under the
tropical Florida sun.

The men are a 'whisper' away from centerfold exposure.
The ladies prance along with dimpled, 'thonged' behinds--
looks like a Silly Putty convention...

I wore a swimsuit once, more of a flotation device--that,
when I began swimming, would billow out--much like
the inner tube I used to float on as a kid--drifting between
the pilings of the Santa Monica Pier...

Rising from the bathtub-warm waters of the Gulf, I
looked like a beached whale. Suddenly all the water
dumped out from my swimsuit--along with a slithery
Ramora I called Ramon--since it had clung to my ribcage
the entire time.

So now, bikini clad, I notice that I'm not far from being
in the select classification of Reptilius Wrinkilum--as I
enjoy the tropical outdoors. I'm also noticing that I need
to work out a little harder, too.
Gosh, that almond cookie was sooo good...
Sonia, I slipped...

To Nancy's House We Go...

Hot afternoons in Florida bring on not only intense heat but also roving cavalries of insects. They must be armor-plated, since no bug treatment seems to phase them.
Ants, in particular. Fire and black ants.
They have hides like Kevlar.

They're very good at social networking.
The leader has an excellent command strategy.
He maintains a covey of dedicated followers hard at work burrowing and heaving the earth.
Armed with a bag of ant pellets, I sprinkle on more than I should over the billowing mounds, watering, as directed.
Promises a dead mound in 24 hours..

Needless to say, I'm back outside the following day and find that the Ant Commander has evaded death by strategically issuing his troops underground in a SE direction another 2 feet.

I surrender to the army of ants, and go inside to put on my swimsuit.
My son 's left the chaise outside on the grass, so barefooted, I go back outside.
As I'm carrying the chaise through the lanai screen door, I step on a new mound.
Legions of black ants are scurrying between my toes and up my calves.

Yelping, I swat them off. My feet are burning and intensely itchy.
I know the ants have drilled and spit a special anti-human potion into my body.
I also know that the effectiveness of their bites will last more than 24 hours..
say more like 2 months.
Yes, the ants have won again.

Why I Love Florida...

*Wearing shorts and sandals most of the year
*When you retire, you're already here!
*Afraid of heights? Only real elevations are the high-rises along the beaches
*Swaying palm trees
*Shells
*Sanibel Island-Captiva
*O-D on Key Lime Pie
*Geckos
*Alligators
*Manatees
*Dolphins
*Iguanas
*Perfect umbrella drinks
*Florida Keys
*Jimmy Buffett
*Margaritaville
*Celebrity-watching
*Hurricane watching
*Fishing
*White sandy beaches
*Shorebirds
*Sparkling blue waters
*International cuisine
*Big Cypress National Preserve/The Everglades
*Swamp Buggy Races
*Mullet Festivals
*Pirate-themed festivals
*Art festivals
*Bo Sox spring training site-Ft. Myers
*Florida authors,Dave Barry, Tim Dorsey, Carl Hiassen, Randy Wayne White
*Haunted Places: Tampa Theater and Don CeSar Hotel

Spring Cleaning?

It's that time of year when most people look around the house, or apartment, and decide how much of the clutter stuck in closet corners--or even under the bed-- is worthy of tossing into the trash.

I'm a collector. I love books: books on photography[12], writing technique[46], cooking[I lost count!], mysteries[36].
These are all books that are part of my comfort zone.
My husband is always suggesting that I go through my stuff and throw it out or give it to a thrift center.
Husbands like doing that, don't they?

My art supplies are stowed in the walk-in closet, very neatly--not bothering anyone.
My easel stands in the corner next to our bed.
It's been suggested that if something isn't used more than a handful of times, it's time to get rid of it.
My artistic expression comes and goes like the tide..
I have two paintings that are in temporary limbo at the moment.

My photographic equipment is often in the Florida room[family room], ready to head out for a photo junket.
I'm a very creative and cerebral gal. These possessions are part of what I am, what I love to do.

Spring cleaning in Florida—where the seasons don't seem to change?
Nah..