Passport Panic

Good grief, what day is it?

For some reason, I thought it was Monday. Now I realize it's Tuesday. After a flexible travel schedule and an all-night airplane trip, my body is very confused!

The journey was fine. I had a moment of in-flight panic when I reached into my pocket and my PASSPORT WASN'T THERE. I always fly with my passport in my pocket. I began frantically searching the seat around me, the floor, the seatback pouch. I needed the passport to board the plane, so I knew it couldn't have gone far. Then I dropped my eyeglasses under the seat and, because space was too tight for me to bend over, I couldn't reach them. "Oh, for f*ck's sake!" I said out loud, and it was my perception -- possibly just my imagination -- that the woman sitting next to me became slightly less friendly to me after that little expletive.

And then I found my passport in my camera bag. Where I never put it. My heartbeat gradually returned to normal. I told my seatmate what had happened and apologized for being "disruptive." She said it was no problem.

You'll be glad to know my Kapok Tree Inn glasses survived the trip just fine. I packed them in my suitcase, surrounded by layers and layers of bubble wrap. (In fact I bought a pack of bubble wrap specifically for that purpose -- it cost approximately 15 times more than the glasses themselves!)

Dave and Olga are happy to see me, and I them. And now, I will struggle to stay awake until a respectable hour.

(Photo: Painting a garage in Camden, late July.)

Florida Scrapbook

Well, I'm off to England this evening. Here are a few more pictures from my Florida wandering...

First, a vacuum cleaner shop in Tampa. I've been wanting to get a shot of this place for a while. I love all the vacuums standing out front, like soldiers in the war for cleanliness!

A patriotic display on the Hillsborough River in East Tampa.

Sue and I saw this osprey on the beach in Anna Maria. It's standing on a fish, and every once in a while it would pick up the fish and fly to get away from people. The poor thing was having a hard time finding a quiet spot to eat.

The house isn't much to look at, but that palm tree sculpture gives it some pizzaz!

A quiet moment in Anna Maria, with the Sunshine Skyway on the horizon.

There's no accounting for taste, in home decor or presidential candidates.

And finally, this herd of cows wandered up to wish someone's Grandma a happy birthday!

On the Hoof

There's a big swirly rainstorm in the Gulf of Mexico, just to the north of us, so we're having a drizzly morning at the beach. It's not slowing us down too much -- I went out with Sue on her sea turtle nest patrol this morning. You may remember that she's a volunteer with the organization that monitors turtle nests on the island. We didn't find any new ones today but we had a good walk on the rainy beach, past several established nests, four or five wary herons and squads of frantic sandpipers and willets.

Walking is pretty much what we do around here. Yesterday Sue led me on what I jokingly called the "Bataan Death March," a 7.5-mile trek across a rumbly drawbridge and up the length of the island. I made the mistake of carrying a coffee cup and wearing sandals, and by the end I had a blister and I wanted more than anything to put down that damn cup. But, yes, the scenery was terrific. I can't really complain.

Then we had lunch in Bradenton Beach, had some beers at the beachfront Moose Lodge and browsed some thrift shops. I picked up a couple of souvenir glasses (25 cents each!) from the old Kapok Tree Inn, in Clearwater, which has been closed for years. I took my girlfriend there back in the mid-'80s -- I think we may have still been in high school at the time -- and we thought we were really swank. I think I even bought her a corsage. Anyway, I couldn't pass those up! I'm sure Dave will be thrilled, NOT.

We walked around more yesterday evening, and by the end of the day -- according to Sue's iPhone -- we'd walked more than 10 miles. I'm still tired!

Now John and Sue's dog Finnegan -- a long, skinny lab/greyhound mix -- is practically lying in my lap, demanding to be petted. He's such a funny dog. He looks alarmingly thin, but it's just his build. He's got the metabolism of a teenaged boy -- they feed him and feed him and he never puts on weight.

I'll be driving back to Tampa later today, and taking wing back to England tomorrow. I'm ready to get home and see Olga again!

Dave sent me this picture of her, with a bottle of Pimm's. I think he's trying to make me miss home! (Doesn't Olga look guilty? She doesn't understand why she's being asked to sit next to that bottle.)

(Top photo: On the beach outside the Moose Lodge, yesterday afternoon.)

A Quick Post

I've been exploring Tampa a bit this week, in between errands and Dad-related tasks. Even though I grew up here, there are huge swathes of the city I know very little about -- East Tampa in particular is a blank spot in my mind. I drove a couple of different routes through the area, camera at the ready.

There's some crazy stuff out there.

I'm in Anna Maria Island now, visiting my friends John and Sue for the weekend. I figured my stepmother could probably use a break from having me around!

And now, Sue and I are off for an early-morning beach walk, before it gets hot...

Pokemon in the Rain

When I came to Florida at the beginning of July, Pokemon Go was all over the news. I'd never heard of it before, but when I returned to England, it was all the rage there too! What the heck is this game?

Now back in the states again, I mentioned my mystification to my 18-year-old nephew, Jesse, and he offered to show me the ropes. We made a deal to meet yesterday morning for a walk around the neighborhood. He was going to knock on my door at 7:30, when any self-respecting Pokemon ought to still be in bed.

Well, at that appointed hour, it was raining cats and dogs. I thought it likely Jesse wouldn't even show up.

But no! Being super-punctual, there he was! And we set off on our walk, golf umbrellas at hand. I was fine with that -- having lived in both Florida and England, rain does not slow me down.

So the deal is this: A player simply walks around, and his or her phone vibrates when a Pokemon, which is a little animal or monster, is nearby. I'm not sure who places these Pokemon or how they're distributed, but a few were lurking even in our quiet suburban neighborhood. They're apparently fixed in the same location for all players -- they don't move around. I suppose this has something to do with GPS.

The phone screen shows a live shot of the ground immediately in front of the player, complete with creature (when one is present). There's also a map function, where they can be seen on a map of the surrounding area.

On the screen of the phone above, you can see one -- a yellow bird -- and a little red ball. The player "throws" the ball at the creature, and captures it, earning points.

As I told my nephew, it's great that video game developers have at least figured out a way to get people outside and interacting with their environments, even if it's through a phone screen. As long as they're not walking into traffic. Which happens.

I also went to visit my step-grandmother yesterday. She has an amazing collection of refrigerator magnets. (Yes, I see the Confederate flag. What can I say? She's 93 years old, and from Arkansas.) She and her son, who lives with her, have a crazy new kitten named Blue.

And finally, last night, I took my college friend Liz to dinner for her birthday. We had a fun evening out.

In between, I ran more errands with my step-mother -- banking, returning things to stores, you name it. There's still a lot to do around here. I suppose I shouldn't let Pokemon distract me! (Of course, I'm sure my ancient iPhone won't even run the app, so there's no danger I'll become a habitual player.)

Gato Negro and Ybor City

My dad had a glass or two of cheap red wine, a Chilean brand called Gato Negro, every night after dinner. He drank it in a rocks glass with an ice cube. We all teased him about it -- how he'd been "bitten by the cat."

When he died, he left behind two unopened cases of Gato Negro, as well as a big ol' unopened bottle of Jack Daniels. (He also liked manhattans, though in recent years he abandoned the niceties of the bitters, vermouth and cherry, not to mention the martini glass, in favor of a bit of Jack over ice. That was his before dinner drink.)

Yesterday my stepmother and I took that booze back to the booze store, where she got a refund. In a way, that was the saddest thing I've done this week.

We also took all the medical supplies to a thrift store, so they're finally out of our lives. Where the Gato Negro reminds me of healthy dad, the medical supplies remind me of sick dad, and I feel no attachment to those whatsoever.

After running our errands I drove down to Ybor City, Tampa's historic Cuban and Italian neighborhood, to meet my friend Cherie for lunch. As I was parking the car, I kept hearing a rooster crowing -- which seemed a bit strange in the middle of the city. I found this little flock (is three a flock?) scratching around next to the railroad tracks. They reminded me of Ms. Moon.

Then, weirdly, I found a painting of what appeared to be the exact same flock on an old building. Are they legendary ghost chickens from the past, wandering the streets of Ybor? Did I have a supernatural experience?

I also found what looks like Hillary Clinton's local campaign office. Go Hillary!

Anyway, Cherie and I ate -- Cuban sandwiches, of course -- and I drove back home through some Tampa neighborhoods I'd never visited before. I got some interesting photos, which I will probably share here in coming days.

I helped my stepmother with the dogs -- enduring more scratches on the arms from an overenthusiastic Maybelline -- and then we all went to a trivia night at a nearby pub. This is something my stepsister does every week with her husband and son, and my stepmother had never gone before, so we tagged along. Our team won handily, but then, with nine people, it was twice as big as any other team. If we hadn't won we would have had some 'splaining to do.

Venice

Yesterday we drove down to Venice -- me, my stepmother, my stepsister and her husband and son. A full car!

I lived in Venice from 1994-97, so I know the town and I was pleased to see that it hasn't changed much -- at least not on "the island," as central Venice is called. Some big new houses have been built and older, smaller ones torn down, which is a common phenomenon in waterfront communities all over the state. But overall the small-town atmosphere seems well-preserved.

We drove out to the Crow's Nest restaurant near the jetties that protect Venice Inlet, where we had lunch. (Seafood pot pie, in my case.) I love a nice seafood restaurant with big windows, iced tea and a water view -- a quintessentially Florida experience.

Afterwards we walked out onto the jetties, where the scenery was pretty but the temperatures were baking.

We retreated to the car and went downtown, where we walked into a few little shops. But we didn't buy anything and didn't stay long -- my stepmother wanted to get home to feed Pinky and Manny, the chihuahuas. I popped in to Venice City Hall for five minutes to see a few people I know from my days working there as a reporter (turns out there's only one person left).

Then we hit the road and came home via Casey Key, a narrow strip of sand featuring some incredibly large houses and wealthy occupants. We saw the house reportedly owned by Oprah Winfrey, though I don't know whether that's established fact or mere rumor.

This is the kind of trip my stepmother could never do with my dad -- not within the past decade, anyway. His health was too shaky and he didn't really like traveling, especially when it involved going over bridges. (He hated bridges.)

It was good for all of us.