Olga Eats a Shrimp

Here's where the devil dogs wound up in our kitchen -- perched on a tiny ledge next to the window. When I put them up, Dave said, "Where did you get those?!" I said, "Don't you read my blog?" (Answer: No.)

And here's the plaque I picked up the same day in Jacksonville featuring a red-headed woodpecker. Obviously handmade, I suspect it's someone's craft project from summer camp or wood shop or something like that. It fits in nicely with our needlepoint wall. There's no obvious name or date on it.

Our garden saga has taken another turn. I wrote the gardeners yesterday and asked them to make another pass at the front garden, and surprisingly, they agreed. They're supposed to come back this morning. I'm going to work as usual; I'm going to leave the situation in their hands. I made it clear we need a harder prune than we got the first time around and included photos of some of the problem areas. Hopefully this will placate Mother Russia, who will no doubt be peering down from her upstairs window.

I slept well last night, thank goodness. Maybe my jet-lag is on the wane.

Garden Fatigue

Our windowsill cactus is blooming again, as it has done almost every spring since 2019. I think those nubs around it are old blooms from last year, but maybe they're new buds. In any case, I'm glad it's still happy.

It's happier than I am, I'll say that much. Blame the Russians.

Yesterday, the gardeners came to trim our garden. They arrived about 9:30 a.m., just as the rain slackened, and after I went to work they spent several hours in the back garden, pruning the roses and buddleias and ripping out all the ivy invading the borders. They trimmed the large hebe and several other bushes in the front and gave us several inches more space to go up and down the front steps.

I was mostly happy with the result. It's still quite "full," but looks neater than it did.

I was very happy with the back. They didn't strip all the ivy on the fence and in the trees, at my request -- I want to leave some cover for the birds. But they took a lot off the ground and the pruned roses look much better.

Our bulbs and day lilies are more exposed and although the lawn is sodden and muddy right now, it should fill in well when growing season begins.

The one thing I wish they hadn't done is rake up all the fallen leaves I'd left in the borders and piled at the back of the garden. I was deliberately allowing them to break down as mulch. Oh well.

At work I spent the day in a training session learning about Chat GPT and Artificial Intelligence. This isn't something I use much -- in fact not at all, up to now -- but I can see how it might be beneficial for certain tasks like synthesizing data or composing routine e-mails. (I confess there is a blogger who commented once or twice on my blog many months ago who I strongly suspect uses Chat GPT to compose her comments. They're always very detailed and yet they seem blandly artificial. I will not name names!)

After I got home yesterday evening, I wrote to the Russians and our landlords and asked them to pay their portion of the fees for the front garden. I'd already paid and was seeking reimbursement. (We're responsible for the back but not the front under the terms of our lease.)

Mrs. Russia responded by knocking on our door and complaining that the trimming in the front is inadequate. She feels they should have done more and went on and on about how they'd promised four hours of work (I don't know where she got that number) but spent less than one and left the bushes too large. Possibly because I was halfway through my evening gin & tonic, I lost my temper with her and said I was finished dealing with the garden and went inside and closed the door, leaving her out on the stoop.

This morning, after about two hours of sleep (jet-lag and annoyance), I wrote and told her that I don't expect her to pay for work she feels is inadequate, and I will ask the gardeners for a more thorough trim. (Which I am doubtful they will provide.) But I also reiterated that the garden isn't our responsibility and all future communication about it should go straight to our landlords.

Dear God, I am so tired.

To finish on a happy note, I took my glasses to the optician yesterday who managed to rescue them after they'd been fairly badly mangled during my trip to Florida. I dropped them at one point and an earpiece broke off, and the other earpiece got bent in my luggage. Miracle opticians! My glasses are fine now -- at no charge!

Settling In

We are jumping back into our London lives! In fact the trip to Florida seems so short it's almost dreamlike. The blueberries we left in the refrigerator didn't even have time to shrivel. I had them on my cereal yesterday and they were perfectly fine.

I spent the day unpacking and organizing -- doing laundry, that kind of thing. The devil dogs have been given a bath and are now perched in a prominent spot in the kitchen. I haven't hung my woodpecker plaque yet but maybe today.

The garden is looking springlike, with the daffodils and crocuses blooming. The snowdrops are all open and hanging like upside-down moths from their stems.

The gardeners are supposed to come today to trim the front garden and get the ivy under control in the back, but it's pouring rain at the moment and the forecast doesn't show that changing. I wonder if they'll want to reschedule. I suppose an English gardener is used to working in the rain.

Here's Olga, curled up next to me on the couch. It's very dark in this room, with only light from the hallway casting a dim glow, so I'm impressed that picture worked out. She seems very glad to have us home. She slept soundly on the couch next to me all afternoon, and she was out like a light last night.

Or maybe that was me, honestly. I resisted sleeping during the day, to try to get back on track, but once 9 p.m. rolled around I climbed into bed and had no awareness of anything until 5:30 this morning. Again, I think we were gone such a short time that jet lag didn't even have time to kick in.

Well, we'll see what happens with the gardeners. I really hope they come because our roses are starting to show new growth, and if they're going to prune them they need to do it now. Plus today is a professional development day at work so I can come in a bit late without ramifications -- unlike when we have kids around (starting tomorrow).

Oh, by the way, my Gulf of Mexico t-shirt did arrive at Dave's parents' house, just as we were preparing to leave. I wore it home on the plane, and I'm wearing it now.

Home Again

This was Friday night's Florida sunset, seen from the back yard of my stepmother's guest house. I love those filmy veils of clouds, lit by the sinking sun.

And now we're back in London. Olga was thrilled to see us, once I woke her up -- she was sound asleep on the couch and didn't hear us come in. She's been jumping around and is now lying next to me, sighing deeply. All is right with the world.

The flight was smooth. As a special treat, Dave and I bought business class seats for our return voyage. (They were the only ones available on the direct London to Gatwick flight, so it was either that or connect through some other city.) We were each in those pods with divider walls between them, and a seat that basically turns into a bed. I read The New Yorker, watched two episodes of "Absolutely Fabulous" and slept for part of the trip, a light snooze, but I'm still exhausted.

Here we are toasting through the partition between our pods, with our pre-takeoff champagne. Cheers!

And just for fun, here's my stepsister's cat, Ozzie, at her house in Tampa. Jennifer and her husband spoil their two cats rotten. They are very satisfied animals. (Of course I wouldn't know anything about spoiling pets.)

I'd give you a picture of Olga but I feel sure she'd be insulted if I put her in the same post as a cat.

Ybor and Bayshore

Yesterday was one of those spectacular Florida winter days with a cloudless sky and bright sun -- the type of sun that casts shadows turning even mundane streetscapes into something wonderful. It was also really cold -- 38º F (or 3º C) when I went to Dunkin' Donuts in the morning. This morning it's 45º (or 7º C) so slightly better, and of course I'm back at Dunkin', pumping out a blog post before driving to Bradenton to pick up Dave.

I had a leisurely morning yesterday before driving into Tampa to meet my friends Sue and John, who I've known since college. Remember me mentioning the Rod N' Reel Pier in Anna Maria a couple of days ago -- the one destroyed by last fall's hurricanes? Well, John and Sue are the friends who sat with me on that pier on so many evenings back in the '80s and '90s. I always try to connect with them when I pass through Tampa.

We met in Ybor City, the historic Cuban/Italian quarter where cigars were hand-rolled in gigantic brick warehouses at the dawn of the 20th century. Now it's the arts and entertainment district, with a thriving bar and nightlife culture, and lots of popular restaurants. It retains some elements of its previous identity, such as the terrazzo floor at the entrance to the former Max Argintar menswear store.

John, Sue and I ate at Carmine's, where I ordered the hot pressed Cuban sandwich and black bean soup (with onions, please). We used to go to Carmine's when it was squeezed into a much smaller space and one of John's friends performed in a band there. I remember being crammed into that tiny space and dancing to their cover of the Violent Femmes' "Blister in the Sun," which was always the high point of their set, at least to us.

Anyway, Carmine's is a lot different these days and I have no idea where John's musician friend might be, but suffice to say, I share a lot of history with John and Sue. We talked mainly about retirement options and the dismal state of the newspaper industry, because we are journalists (or former journalists) of a certain age.

Afterwards Sue and I got a Cuban coffee at the nearby Hotel Haya, which I didn't even know existed. It's quite swank, with a palm-fringed pool in a sunny courtyard, and I'd love to stay there sometime. And the cafe makes a mean Cuban coffee! It's next to the site of the former El Goya, a renowned drag bar back in the '70s and '80s (which became Tracks, a popular gay dance club where I spent a lot of nights dancing in my college years).

Afterwards, I drove down sunny Bayshore Boulevard to Ballast Point Park, which offers spectacular views of the city across the bay. Again, this was a favorite spot during my college years. I'd drive down and study at one of the tables with a coffee from the fishing shop next to the pier. Nowadays the fishing shop has become a gleaming little cafe called Leon's Lobstah Shack, but it still sells a good cup of coffee. (It may sound like I'm over-caffeinating but that Cuban coffee was small.)

The pier at Ballast Point is closed, because of hurricane damage, I believe. But there's a shorter dock (above) where a couple of anglers were trying for the day's catch.

I mentioned how great it is to drive down Bayshore Boulevard, one of Tampa's most exclusive addresses. I made a little video to replicate the experience, as if you're in my car listening to my iTunes while soaking up the sunshine. (Specifically, you're hearing Astrud Gilberto's "Canoeiro." And before you chastise me for filming while driving, all I did is hold my phone out the window without watching the screen, so my eyes were still on the road.) You'll see some cones and barricades, and that's because the Gasparilla Distance Classic is being run on Bayshore this weekend. At the end, you get a quiet moment at Ballast Point, listening to the waves. Enjoy!

Last night I went to dinner with my step-sister, her husband and her son. We went to a neighborhood steak place where the steak was good but the martini was marginal.

By the way, I apologize for being unable to answer all your comments -- I don't have much opportunity to be online at the moment -- but I am am reading and enjoying them all! Dave and I will be winging back to London this evening. Coming to you tomorrow from the land of Olga!

Trilliums and Jesus, with Special Guest Stars

It's not quite 6 a.m. and I am back at Dunkin' Donuts in Lutz, my Internet outpost when I'm staying at my stepmother's guest house. The WiFi there isn't hooked up so I hop in the car and come up here, and have a delicious and surely perfectly healthy Boston Kreme donut while I type my blog. I've done it so many times on so many trips that it's become my routine.

Yesterday involved a whole lot of driving. I left Jacksonville about 9 a.m., after my brother and I dropped my niece at school and stopped for a final coffee at Starbucks, where we sat across from each other at a wide, long table, like two attorneys trying to settle a complicated case.

Once on the road, I luxuriated in some solitude and played my iTunes (is there a happier, more vapid song than "The Hustle" by Van McCoy?) while barreling west on I-10 toward my not-so-mysterious destination -- Lloyd, Florida, and fellow blogger Mary Moon.

Mary and I have met several times -- in 2015 and 2019 in Florida, and once in Cozumel, when we happened to be there at the same time. But it's been many years (not since the pandemic) and I really wanted to see her unusual wild trilliums (above) and enjoy a bit of North Florida thrift shopping!

It took me something like two and a half hours to get there, a little longer than I expected, so it was about 11:30 a.m. by the time I pulled into Mary's driveway. We're both native Floridians and we joke that we are long-lost siblings, so greeting her was like greeting family. I also got to say hi to her husband once again and meet her daughter Jessie, who accompanied us on our day's adventures.

We headed to Monticello, a picturesque little nearby town. I'd driven through before but I don't think I'd ever stopped there, and Mary goes there quite a bit, so I was eager to check out the scene through her eyes. We began with lunch at the Rancho Grande Mexican restaurant, which surely has the most colorful dining room in the world. I was so engrossed in conversation with Mary and Jessie that I pretty much ordered the first thing I saw on the menu -- a Speedy Gonzalez, which turned out to be a taco and enchilada with refried beans and rice. Yum!

Monticello has an ornate courthouse (complete with monument to fallen Confederate soldiers) in the middle of a traffic circle at the heart of downtown. The Latin phrase Suum Cuique is inscribed over the door -- "to each his own," which seems typically individualistic in the American vein, but apparently means each constituent will receive fair treatment at the hands of the government.

And then -- shopping! We were in an antique store and I wanted to send a picture to Dave, so I grabbed the ugliest nearby object to use as a prop. "Don't buy that," Dave wrote back.

We had a great time talking and laughing and marveling at the incredible assortment of weird junk populating the shops. We saw a pineapple-shaped ice bucket, which led to a discussion of whether displaying an upside-down pineapple indicates a person is a swinger. (Cosmopolitan magazine confirms this, so it must be true. Far be it from me to question Cosmopolitan on matters of sex.)

Speaking of sex, these paint-by-numbers nymphs were apparently judged too scandalous to display in their entirety.

My childhood babysitter/nanny/surrogate grandmother, Mrs. Kirkland, used to have a poodle like these. I liked the one with the cat-eye glasses, but I wasn't going to pay $48 for it.

Jessie's face says it all.

In the end I only bought three old postcards -- and actually Jessie bought them for me, which was incredibly kind and gave me a fun souvenir. I'll turn them into a future blog post, I'm sure, so whether Jessie knows it or not she has invested in my blog and is now part-owner of the intellectual property contained herein.

We got back to Mary's and I promptly hit the road for the long drive back to Tampa. I was conflicted about which route to take -- the longer but probably smoother all-interstate route, I-10 to I-75, or the shorter but stop-and-go U.S. 19 that hugs the curve of the state's sparsely populated "Big Bend" area. In the end I did the shorter route and it went very smoothly despite the small-town stoplights along he way -- Perry, Cross City, Crystal River. I just cruised along with my iTunes and had a great time. I got to Lutz, the suburb where I'm staying just outside Tampa, about 8 p.m.

It was a long day but well worth it to re-establish human contact with my blog sister!

Devil Dogs

Yesterday was gray and rainy, so my brother and I sought out indoor things to do. After dropping my niece off at school, we went to one of J.M.'s favorite coffee shops and hashed out a plan. We were supposed to run an errand at one of the big shopping centers in town, but we decided along the way to drop in to an antique mall where I've picked up some great old Florida photos in past years.

Fortunately, my brother really likes antique shopping. Dave can't stand it, so it's not something I get to do very often. We got there just as the place opened and spent a couple of hours poring over all the treasures. We even ate lunch there.

You gotta love these orange dogs with triangular eyes! And for only $8! I passed them by but then, while we were driving away, I looked through the photos on my camera, came across the one above and thought, "I NEED THOSE DOGS!" So we went back for them. They'll be coming to London. I also got a carved wooden woodpecker plaque that looks like it was someone's art project at summer camp. (I'd take a photo to show you but it's out in the car.) And of course I found some more photos to rescue and some old postcards too.

Good thing I have room in my luggage.

We got so engrossed in antiques -- we went to a second shop too -- that we didn't even bother to run our errand. Before we knew it it was time to collect Kate from school and go to dinner. During antique browsing and driving time J.M. and I had plenty of opportunity to talk about everything from our '70s latchkey upbringing to NATO and Trump. (Fortunately we share a common political perspective.) There really is something special and cathartic about being able to talk to someone who shares your personal history.

For dinner we went to a favorite local restaurant that unfortunately had a live band playing. It was quite loud and made conversation hard. It would have made Dave crazy -- he hates live music in a restaurant, and I'm not such a fan of it either. These guys were good, at least.

Unfortunately, I didn't get to see my older niece, Jane, who is living at college nearby. I don't want to intrude on her campus experience so I would never go there, and she was too busy to join us last night. I told J.M. not to bother her or pressure her to come to dinner. "She's doing what you're supposed to do in college. She's making her own life," I said.

Today I am back on the road, headed to Tampa with a special detour in mind.