Going South

This has been our recent weather in Jacksonville -- gray and foggy. We got a front yesterday that brought the temperature down and left me shivering in my shorts and sweatshirt. I may have to break out my London jacket!

But then, we're driving south today, so maybe things won't be quite so chilly down there.

Our original plan was to leave Jacksonville and go straight to Bradenton to see Dave's parents. But they're still on their way down from Michigan, so we're going to take an extra day for a slow drive through Central Florida and maybe some sightseeing. We'll get to Bradenton tomorrow, after his parents have arrived. Our cruise, for which we will drive back to Tampa, begins on Friday.

Yesterday Dave, my mom, my brother and I all went to see "Rogue One," the new Star Wars movie. It was good, with spectacular visual effects, but why do mass-market movies have to be so relentlessly go-go-go these days? Are viewer attention spans that short? God forbid we should pause, amid all the laser fire, for character development. I don't think I've ever seen a movie where so many people die onscreen.

And of course, we ate. Restaurant portions seem ridiculously HUGE. Yesterday I got an omelette that must have contained five eggs, and Dave's hamburger was the size of a tea saucer. When I ordered conch fritters at a seafood restaurant on Monday night they arrived as big as lemons. I'm feeling overfed and our cruise hasn't even started!

Dog in Shades

You thought I was kidding, didn't you?

But no. Yesterday, while out with Dave and my brother, I really did see a dog wearing sunglasses. A guy walked him in front of our car as we waited at a stoplight, and when he tied up the dog and went into the Moonshine convenience store, I immediately pulled into the parking lot to grab some pictures. The dog was super-friendly and waggy, but I never talked to the owner so I have no idea what his name is. Feel free to make one up. (I'm going with "Stevie.")

The weird thing is, it wasn't even a particularly sunny day!

It was busy, though! Dave and I met my mom for breakfast, and we went to a biscuit restaurant. When we placed our orders, the cashier asked me, "What is your favorite Christmas memory?" I was perplexed until she explained that the restaurant always has a "Question of the Month." The customers' answers are then called out by the staff to indicate that the order is ready.

So I had to come up with a Christmas memory that was both brief and inoffensive enough to be called out in a public place. The best I could do on such short notice: "Setting up my grandma's little artificial Christmas tree." (For the record, my grandmother, who was somewhat formal, was always "Grandmother" and never "Grandma." That was a transcription error on the cashier's part.) Sure enough, that's what they called out when our biscuits and gravy were ready. As we ate I heard an even more succinct memory from another customer: "Surviving it!"

Afterwards Dave and I visited my Mom's retirement community, where we took a walk and admired the groovy mosaics from 1964 that adorn some of the exterior walls (above). We spent the morning with her and then got back in the car to go downtown and meet up with my brother for lunch.

We picked him up and went to Cleo's, which I photographed when he and I tried to visit this summer. We missed out then because it was closed. This time I got to sample the best taco salad in town, which is, as I suspected, pretty average -- but the atmosphere can't be beat. It's like eating on someone's shady back porch. I loved Cleo's.

We took a drive through north Jacksonville, where the aforementioned dog incident occurred. Then we dropped my brother back at work, and Dave and I came back to our hotel via San Marco, where the lions on the famous fountain were decorated in gauzy frocks -- or collars, I suppose. Must be a holiday thing!

A Disney Pilgrimage (Not Mine)

I can't believe I forgot to tell you about one more element of our flight to Florida. While Dave and I were waiting at Gatwick Airport for our gate to be announced, we saw a family of about a dozen people, at least three generations, all dressed in Disney gear. The women had Mickey cardigans and t-shirts that said "We're going to Disney." The men had t-shirts a la NWA that said "Straight Outta Disney" and their names on the back. There were uncles and grandparents. A few of the girls were wearing mouse ears.

Dave said, "I bet they're on our plane." And sure enough, they were -- about ten rows in front of us. I wondered if they'd bought a tour package that included all that gear, or if they won a contest or something. Anyway, they seemed to be having a ball, and I didn't begrudge them their fun, even though like many Floridians I have mixed feelings about the Disney juggernaut.

Most of Florida has nothing to do with Disney and looks more like the scene above, from small-town Starke. Our drive up to Jacksonville yesterday was pretty effortless. We got started a bit late and then dillydallied along the way, taking a few pictures and stopping for food. We ordered breakfast at McDonald's (the same one I worked at as a teenager, in Pasco County) and they completely bollixed up our order -- somehow we emerged with two extra sandwiches and an extra hash brown that we didn't pay for. It seemed very American to be deluged with surplus fast food.

Rural parts of Central Florida are very Red State, and we saw lots of signs like the ones above, along with Jesus billboards and anti-abortion advertisements. I read them out loud to Dave just to annoy him.

We finally got to Jacksonville about 2 p.m., and had champagne on my brother's back patio, sitting in the wooden Adirondack chairs that he built himself using a pattern he created himself by studying an old chair my mom owns. He's always been much handier than I am. Everything I built in shop class wobbled.

We had dinner, a fabulous crock-pot roast, and brownie cupcakes topped with very pointy strawberries resembling Santa hats. (My older niece made those.) We briefly exchanged gifts. Then Dave and I hit the road and came to a nearby Ramada Inn, where we're camped out in Room 177.

It's a very '80s motel, low and beige, with a pool that we will probably never touch because we'll be out all the time with the family. We have a hyper-effective air conditioner the size of a small refrigerator beneath the window in our room, creating a steady white-noise whoosh and quickly rendering the space Arctic.

I rarely stay in a motel on my Florida trips but with Dave here too, we figured it would be better not to impose. Besides, we're still adjusting our internal clocks and sound sleeping is a requirement!

Last night we watched "The Sound of Music" on TV and I could barely keep my eyes open. The minutes those kids made it over that windy mountaintop I clicked off the TV and was out.

Microwaved Tin Can

The Eagle has landed. Or the Owl. Or our plane, anyway.

I didn't think it would ever happen. Physically, this was one of the less comfortable flights of my flying career. It seemed incredibly overheated, stifling and dry inside that tightly packed plane, where every seat (as far as I could see) was occupied. I swear the air circulation wasn't working properly.

I sat next to a nattily dressed older man, complete with hat and necktie -- not many people wear a necktie to fly anymore -- and a ring made out of a big gold coin. He didn't drink a lick of alcohol but every time a stewardess walked by he'd gasp for water like he was crawling across the Sahara. He was carrying a bag with Narconon printed on it. I suspect he's had an interesting life, but as is my policy on airplanes, I didn't get tangled up in a conversation with him.

Maybe I should have, though, because my in-flight entertainment plans went awry. I'd rented two old movies from iTunes, but I couldn't get them to play because I'd failed to download them ahead of time and obviously in the sky there is no internet. So I turned to the films offered by the airline and none of them excited me very much. I tried to watch "Love & Friendship," the recent Whit Stillman movie with Kate Beckinsale, and although I've really liked his past movies, this one left me flat and I turned it off after about 20 minutes. Somehow a Jane Austen period piece where everyone is dressed in layers of elegant finery didn't seem appealing on an overheated plane.

Fortunately, I also had a good (but bleak) library book, "Did You Ever Have a Family" by Bill Clegg, and I read the whole thing.

At one point, after we'd been flying for hours, I decided to check the moving map. I thought surely we were nearly there.

But no! We were about nine miles above the Titanic and not even halfway to our destination. We'd had a late start because of fog at Gatwick and with headwinds, that plane just inched across the ocean.

A family from school was on board the plane. We don't know them well and I feigned surprise when we talked to them later at baggage claim, even though I'd seen them when they got on. I don't really know why I did that, except I wanted them to feel unobserved, like I hadn't been aware of their presence the whole time. Protecting their zone of privacy, you know? It was instinctive.

Anyway, we're here now, and I've met up with the Tampa branch of my extended clan. Today Dave and I are driving to Jacksonville to spend a few days with my mom and my brother's family. Road trip!

(Top photo: An owl statue in my stepmother's yard.)

Holiday Lights, and More

Another photo melange today, since we're busy packing this morning for our takeoff around noon.

First, a shot of Olga -- to help ameliorate my guilt at sending her away last night with the dog sitter. This was during a recent walk near the cemetery. Squirrel!

Olga, for the record, went with the dog sitter uncomplainingly. I don't think she's too distressed.

I had the most bizarre dream early yesterday morning. I dreamed I was on a rooftop in Brooklyn with two friends -- people I do not know in real life -- and we were using a baseball bat to hit baseballs across the adjacent rooftops, letting the balls crash down onto the houses and streets and cars below. Some guy who lived down there got annoyed with us and stomped up the stairs and onto the roof, holding a batting helmet. "You may want this," he said, shoved it at me, and stomped away grumpily.

This dream is peculiar because, in real life, hitting a baseball is just about the least likely thing for me to do (except possibly catch a football), especially under such mischievous circumstances. How do I even know about the existence of a batting helmet? It's like someone else dreamed a dream and put it in my head!

The stubborn footstool, which I photographed nearly five months ago, is still sitting outside this house a few blocks from ours. Apparently the homeowner and the garbage collectors are in a standoff.

We have several neighborhood Christmas trees, including one with green lights on West End Green and another in front of some businesses on the high street.

And Harvard Court, a block of flats (along with Yale Court) on an adjacent street, has installed some Christmas lighting out front. At least, I think those colored lights are for Christmas. They're not there all the time....or are they?

Coming to you tomorrow from across the ocean!

Formal Footwear

Another holiday gathering yesterday -- this one for all the faculty and staff at school. (The dinner the previous night was just for my department.) Yesterday's was much more pleasant -- a mingling, walking around kind of event with finger food, and held in the library, no less! It's so much more pleasant to be mobile and talk to numerous people, as opposed to being stuck at a cramped table all night.

Today we'll probably be finding used glassware tucked behind the French novels, but it's a small price to pay for free wine.

Dave and I are coming down to the wire in terms of trip preparation. We've got to pack tonight, and Olga's dog sitter will be picking her up this evening. Packing will be a bit more complicated than usual because of the cruise -- we'll be bringing suits, and ties, and more formal clothing than we would normally take to Florida. But we have to have casual stuff to walk around in, too. I suppose I'll have to bring a second pair of shoes, which is anathema to me, but I'll manage.

Poor Olga. She's snoring away next to me on the couch, completely unaware that her world is about to be shaken up. She's a very in-the-moment dog, though -- she'll be fine. I suspect that in worrying about her, I suffer worse than she does when we travel!

(Photo: Santa and an elf outside Liberty in Soho.)

Holiday Dinner

Workplace holiday dinner last night. Most godawful location ever -- the back alcove of a neighborhood pub, a space designed to accommodate about half the number of people who attended. I was squeezed into a tiny space between the table and the wall -- I felt like I couldn't inhale for two hours! As soon as the desserts were cleared, Dave and I were out of there. I can't wait to hear what my coworkers have to say this morning.

I honestly forgot all about the party until a coworker asked me yesterday afternoon, "Are you coming tonight?" I'd made reservations but that was weeks ago. I stammered, "Tonight? Oh, is that tonight?!" She looked at me like I had two heads. It's a good thing my calendar is so flexible.

Even though Dave and I were the ones who drank wine and ate processed turkey roll and brick-heavy Christmas pudding last night, Olga was the one who woke twice in the small hours of the morning, poking us urgently with her nose to let her outside. I'm not sure what that was about. At first I thought she just heard foxes, but I suspect she wasn't feeling well. Lots of people at work are also sick, with colds or worse. I'm wary of coming down with something on the eve of this trip to Florida and the cruise. It would be a drag to have a cold on the high seas!

(Photo: A doorway in Notting Hill, on Saturday night.)