Eye Ball, Eye Ball.

" So.....how many pounds am I pushing you, good buddy ? "

Eh ?

Oh come on now. CB radio ? You never tried it ? No ?

Well I did. Back in the 80's of course when it had a very brief introduction into the UK. Like with most things in the UK though, it was quickly ruined by those who didn't have it so didn't want YOU to have it and also by those that had it but spoiled it for everyone else.

I know that in 1983 BC (Before Cellphones), I had my mobile rig and twig for my car. The rig was like a car radio and was fitted near the gear stick so you could fiddle with the knobs (!) and the twig, or aerial, was on the car roof. Naturally.

It was this aerial that was prone to being removed by those that did not have a CB radio and felt that if they didn't, no one else should. It's a British thing. Try setting up a nice ornament in your front garden and see how long it lasts !

Anyway after a couple of years and having to replace 2 twigs, I gave up on CB radio and so did the rest of the nation. I'm sure that was just a coincidence. The kids had taken it over with bad language and stupidity and now they've moved on to doing the same with cell phones but at least only the other party has to hear them. Unless you're on a train or a bus, or in a queue/line, in a restaurant, theatre, supermarket............sighhhhhh. Then you ARE the other party.

So why am I rambling on about CB radio ? Well yesterday I finished my library book and last night, in a moment of bedroom boredom, I downloaded a scanner app on my phone. I installed this particular app a year or more ago but removed it when I needed the space. Now I have the space and just fancied listening in on the exciting worlds of the police, emergency services, airports and radio hams ! Everywhere.

Not surprisingly, despite uninstalling the app a year ago, a list of those stations I'd added as favourites came up after installing it again. So much for a clean uninstall. Anyway it did save me a bit of time and so I was right into the local police "station" from the get go.

I listened. I kept listening. I could hear static but little else. Clearly being in a county where the vast majority of the residents are in bed by 9pm, I wasn't going to hear anything exciting at midnight !

This morning though has been another matter. All sorts of excitement going on.

First up was a report of violence at the local McDonald's after a woman was told she wasn't being given a job after her interview. I found this a bit unbelievable actually.

I'd no idea McDonald's did interviews !

Whilst numerous police officers (and no doubt the local SWAT team) were on their way to stop a possible (sesame) bun fight, there was more excitement. Someone reported a youth firing a BB gun at birds and squirrels and so part of the McDonald's SWAT team had to deploy elsewhere and protect the local wildlife.

It all goes on in Highlands County !

Then came real drama. A car had gone into a ditch (I'd better not say where) and a woman was in serious condition. There were no witnesses to this accident but there were reports of a man fleeing the scene. When the police arrived, the woman had only a faint pulse and the officer was concerned to find a child seat in the car. He reported in that he was now looking for the child.

In the end there was no child and the air ambulance was on route to take the woman to hospital.

UPDATE : just this second had an update that a white male and an Hispanic male were seen exiting the car and leaving the scene on foot.

But I think I need to uninstall this phone app......again. Not because I need the space but because......well I guess it's like watching those tv shows about extreme hoarders. It's a bit sick. Those hoarders need help and not just help to clean up their houses. They clearly have medical issues and why should tv shows be made about them in the guise of "entertainment" ? It's voyeurism on a grand scale.

Having the technology to listen in on police and emergency services around the world is all well and good but it's a bit voyeuristic too. The police aren't usually called to 'happy' events. Same goes for ambulance and fire crews. So when we listen to scanners, we're mostly listening to the personal problems of others. Often light hearted of course but sometimes extremely sad.

As the app doesn't have a 'no traumatic reports please' filter, I guess it has to go. I could just choose to listen to planes landing at obscure airports or listen in on radio hams across the world but unlike with CB radio, scanner listening is just that.....listening.

Now if I could TALK with the pilot as he's landing at JFK, that would be cool. Kinda dangerous, but cool.

"Hey, y'all. Fly me to Cuba."

"WTF !! Who is this and how did you get on this frequency ?"

"Oh go on, fly me to Cuba.....please."

"Get off the air. I'm trying to land this plane."

"Then will you fly me to Cuba ?"

"Are you nuts ? Who ARE you "

"Ahhhhh only joking, man. Land your little plane and we'll talk again later, ok ? "

"Tower.....tower.....TOWER !!! I think I've just been scannered."

So no, the scanner app, like CB radio, is not for me. Been there, done that, liked it for a while.

UPDATE : the woman has been airlifted to Tampa Hospital and the police are actively searching for the two men.

Well I never said I'd uninstall it app today !

A Recipe for Disaster

Last time, I mentioned the bite I got in the line of duty. Well in the line of taking photographs really.

I've still got it. I've doused the area with alcohol to the extent that my left arm is permanently pissed but the raised 'zit' is still there and if I absent mindedly scratch around it, I'm scratching for 10 minutes.

Hey ho. Could've been worst I guess. I could've been bitten by a Cottonmouth snake !

Btw, I loved this advice on a site about snakes...... "Generally speaking, if you encounter a snake and you are unsure whether it is dangerous, or not, you should avoid it."

Brilliant !

Thankfully I rarely see snakes here in the park. There are 'only' 6 poisonous types in Florida but believe me, if I see ANY snake, I avoid it. After trying to photograph it of course !

Gators though, are everywhere. And those cute little lizards. And spiders the size of mice ! And all of them will try and enter the house which is why I always keep the doors locked. So far it's worked as I don't believe any of them can pick a lock.

(And they told me years of watching the Natl Geographic channel was rotting my brain. Ha !)

Anyway back to my sort of diary.

Yesterday we didn't play golf. We wussed out. At 7am it was 31F/-0.5c and us oldies don't go out when it's that cold. If I'm going to slice and hook balls into the water, trees, bunkers and rough and loose about a dozen doing so, I'm not going to freeze to death as well. I want to enjoy it !

So seeing the forecast, Jack rang me on Sunday night to say....lets not. And I agreed.

Instead of playing golf, I played cook instead. Deb had given me a shopping list and a recipe and after driving into town to fulfil the order, I then hit the kitchen. I diced and sliced for 90 minutes and ended up with a shed load of carrots, onions, celery, red and yellow peppers, potatoes, a blister on my left hand and numerous nicks and cuts on several fingers.

Food preparation is freakin' dangerous, people !

The worst cut was from a potato peeler I was using to 'skin' the carrots......with. I went off the end of a carrot and onto the end of my index finger. Owwwwy.

Then there was the knife. A big ass knife. A Rambo knife. I was using this WMD to dice the aforementioned veggies and tried to emulate the chefs I see on tv. Keep the veg still and rock the blade along it with smooth and rhythmic cutting strokes. Oh yeah. It was working just fine till I sensed I was not so much slicing an inanimate vegetable as a very animate finger part.

If Edward Scissorhands and Freddie Kruger had high fived each other, there couldn't have been more blood on display.

Bravely I carried on, deciding not to tell anyone I was adding a 'secret' ingredient to the casserole. I'd blame the red pepper for the unusual colour.

So once the 4.5 lbs of meat was diced and everything tossed into the huge pot, beef broth was added and finally salt, pepper and garlic powder were liberally sprinkled on top. Seven bay leaves were placed artistically and finally it was good to go. With the lid in place, the pot was shoved into the oven and 4 hours later the three of us sat down to a wonderful meal with enough left overs to make about 10 more meals. Just the thing for cool Floridian evenings.

Apart from hacking into body parts, the food preparation had caused even more drama. As you might imagine, the residue from preparing 15 carrots, 6 onions, 12 potatoes, 2 peppers and a butt load of celery put a bit of a strain on the garbage disposal unit and just before the last pile of cuttings went down, it gave up the ghost in a very noisy and watery way.

The meal took 4 hours to cook and the disposal unit took 3 hours to unblock. Dennis and I both had goes with the sink plunger, each taking over from the other when our arms needed a rest. There were encouraging gurgles from time to time but after over 2 hours hard work, all we had achieved was water moving from one sink to the other, depending on which one was being plunged ! Clearly the blockage was further along the pipework and so was impervious to being plunged.

Deciding to take his break, Dennis went to the bathroom and after flushing the toilet, I heard a whooooooosh from the kitchen sinks and hurrah, the blockage was gone and the disposal was disposing again.

Just how flushing the toilet unblocked the disposal unit beats the crap out of me !

I blamed the carrot shavings. They were long and thin and wet and probably not ideal for grinding up and so probably bypassed the disposal unit's 'teeth' and slid along the pipework and came together to block the system. Hey, it's a theory.

One thing I can tell you and this won't come as a shock to anyone familiar with waste disposal units; it gets your heart pumping when you put your hand down one even with the switch off. And boy do you look at that switch a lot when doing it ! Logic tells you that as long as it's in the off position, your digits will be safe and remain attached to your hand.

But in your mind, you just know it's like sticking your hand into a nest of sleeping Cottonmouth snakes.

Best avoided.

Don't Bite The Hand That Photographs You.

When I go on my (almost) daily walk around the park, I do just that. I walk along the outermost streets ending up back 'home' and that's just short of a 3 mile walk...which I currently do in about 45 mins.

Not very fast I know but I have to build up speed slowly or else I get a bit of 'exercise asthma' when my chest feels tight and then it never leaves me the whole walk. If I start slowly and don't get the tightness, then I can gradually speed up till my little fat legs are just a blur and stunned residents think they've been passed by a mini cyclone !

This route doesn't take me along either of the internal nature trails, one that goes along the water channel leading to the lake and the other that goes along a path more likely to be infested with gators, snakes and all sorts of creepy crawlies.

So when I'd finished my walk and still had some energy left, I got on my bike and went along the channel trail. This trail goes to the lake and then follows it along past the pier, the pickleball court, the bocce courts, the shuffleboard courts and finally into the shady grove where the numerous trees provide relief from the sun and sitting at wooden picnic tables affords lovely views of the lake.

I took a few photos around the grove area and then 'played' with one or two on Photoshop to make them a bit different from the norm. But first up is a standard photo of a little lizard that was posing on one of the weird stumps which are by the lakeside at the grove.

I try not to overuse Photoshop as you can end up with a totally different photo but now and then, hell it's just fun. I'm also very conscious of the fact that I've posted so many photos of the same views over the years and the blue lake and blue sky and green trees.....well it can all get a bit repetitive !

Here are two I 'shopped' from yesterday.

Different I guess ! I think they're not as good as the originals when viewed small size and look much better when full screen so feel free to click on them. May not be full screen but the extra detail you'll get should help.

Whilst taking the photos, I used a tree as a stabalising 'device' and later I found I'd been bitten by something...maybe a fire ant. This morning the bite area had swollen quite a bit, topped with a nasty coloured puss spot. I burst the spot and dabbed the area with alcohol (probably shouldn't have used gin !) so I'm hoping that'll do the trick. It's not sore or itchy but it's right under my watch band and so it's mostly just irritating.

So as I'm suffering for my art, the photos are that much more important !

I realise Buttonwood Bay Grove isn't exactly Helmand Provence but as with my walking, it's all a case of building up slowly.

And So To Recap.............

Today I got the same number of socks out of the washer/dryer as I put in.

Yep, it's been a good day !

Yesterday was good too. Very good. I played golf and got 5 pars. Yes 5 !!!!!!!!!!

That's about....ahhhh.....lemme see now, 5 more than usual. Well certainly 4 more. Maybe 3 on a good day. I even got a par on the evil Par 5 17th which has water guarding the green. And I went in the water - as usual. The ball that is. Not me. And I STILL got a par.

Woohoooo. I was on fire.

Sadly only one person saw me get that par. Actually even he didn't quite see it as for some bizarre reason, when both of us hit our 4th shots onto the green close to the hole (he'd gone in the water too), he wandered off to look for balls at the edge of the water and so wasn't watching as I holed my putt. When he eventually returned and dropped about 7 reclaimed balls onto the green, he 2 putted for a 6. Ha ! Clearly he was no longer in 'the zone'.

And the moral is : it doesn't take a lot of balls to hole a short putt.

The reason for only two of us playing the 17th was........rain.

Our normal foursome was half way down the 15th when we actually saw the approaching rain sweeping across in front of us like a Saharan sandstorm. Deciding to go the way of our tee shots, we headed off the fairway and found some trees - although it has to be said that palm trees don't give much cover from rain. Sod all in fact. But psychologically at least we felt better and after a few minutes, the shower passed and we played on.

The dark clouds quickly formed again and with them came more rain. This time Barrie and Jack decided to throw in the towel and zoomed off to the clubhouse and its bar. Blair and I used our towel to wipe off the cart seat and again, played on. Seconds later the rain eased off and then stopped as it often does in Florida.

Maybe it was because after the showers we pretty much had our part of the course to ourselves (and the bar was packed) and we were able to relax and take our time, but I played the last 4 holes in 3 over par...quite an achievement for me as there are two par 5's in there.

Of course when recounting my exploits to Jack and Barrie in the bar, they cast doubts on the accuracy of my scoring as they hadn't been there !! Me ? Cheat ? I blame the drink for such a scurrilous suggestion.

Finally, as if to again prove the 'ramblingness' of this blog, here is a photo I took on Sunday from my armchair. I often see tiny lizards scuttling across the concrete but this one was sitting sunning itself on top of a sprinkler block just a few feet away from the window. It would shake its body and then fan out the loose skin under its throat which I assume would normally be a procedure used either during mating or to warn off potential attackers. Or both. It did it over and over before I decided to get my camera and it continued to do it long after I'd taken a few photos and a video clip and then got bored with it ! Very odd.

So there you have it. The highlights of the last 3 days here. Yes there was a big football game during a Madonna concert and a load of people died and even more were born and a bit of snow fell in the UK but come on...surely stories about socks, golf and lizards give the finger to all those events ?

Too soon ?

The Return Of The Peckers.

Around this time last year, I blogged about woodpeckers in the park. They pecked on wood as is their nature but they also realised that by pecking on our house's "tin" roofs, they'd get their message out much further.

If it's one thing I've learned from shows like the BBC's Earthflight, it's that birds are clever and adaptable. Even so, I'm still not sure if the park's woodpeckers rat-a-tat on the roofs to amplify their "mating pecks" or if they're just too stupid to tell the difference between wood and metal !

It has to be the former as how stupid do you have to be to make the same mistake over and over.

I mean they're birds, not politicians.

Anyway they're back. A couple of mornings ago I heard the familiar sound on wood and then a few minutes later, the same on metal. So far, the bird or birds are not as close as last year which is fine by me. I'm ok hearing their noise at 7am when it's around 3 on the volume scale but when they were on next door's roof last February, it was more THX than Bose and it was as jarring as waking up to Jonathan Ross on the radio.

Still, there is a sort of comfort in this avian continuity. I like when animals and birds return every year. Clearly these woodpeckers like the park and why wouldn't they ?

Or maybe it's just the quality of our roofs !

Heavy metal woodpeckers. Darwin would've been proud.

Watching You, Watching Me.

So we went into town today.....shopping......for 6 hours !

Actually it was mostly fun as the trip included having breakfast and going to the library where I left with a John Grisham and a Tom Clancy. Woohooo.

For a small town, Sebring has a fabulous library with every modern facility imaginable from free internet on numerous workstations to bar code reading 'do-it-yourself' checkouts. You don't need to interact with a staff member at all.

So after we had breakfasted and libraried (my blog, my made up word, ok ?), we went to the first of 3 furniture stores to look for a new reclining chair and to checkout dining tables and end tables and.....well anything furniturey really (yes, yes, same rule, see above !).

Now I donno about you (obviously), but the sales people in furniture stores drive me nuts. You go in and one will always appear as if from a nearby hidden closet.

"Hello......welcome to Chipboard City. Can I help you today ?"

"Ah no thank you. We're just looking".

"That's fine. My name is Pushybitch......just give me a shout if you want any help."

And that SHOULD be it. You SHOULD be able to wander around the store, safe in the knowledge that should you need to know how to use a chair or find out how a dining table works, Pushybitch will be at your side should you call for her.

In reality it seems these people don't believe you can work chairs and tables on your own and so they lurk. Some do more than lurk, they stalk. Oh if you turn around quickly they'll suddenly find a cushion to plump or a table arrangement to move an inch but really they're desperately listening for the slightest opportunity to close the gap and give you unwanted information.

Me : "I donno. I don't like this colour or fabric."

Whoooosh...as Pushybitch appears as if by magic.

Pushybitch : "Oh it comes in different colours and fabrics, sir. We can order whatever your little heart desires and it'll be delivered in 6-8 weeks."

Then they fall back again but are still within earshot and follow you around as if you're going to try and get a 3 piece suite out the door without being seen.

Manager : "We seem to be losing stock at an alarming rate, Pushybitch."

Pushybitch (sobbing) : "But the customers told me they're just looking and I believed them."

Manager : "WHAT ??!! Yer fired."

We went to 3 different furniture stores today and I'm pretty sure I spotted the salesperson from the first store following us in the 3rd store !

In one store, we thought we'd escaped by going out a door into a sort of quasi outside area full of recliner chairs and were pretty sure we'd made the move unseen. Not so. A few minutes later the door opened and in walked the salesperson with a triumphant look on his face. I half expected him to say 'my turn now' and ask us to count to 100.

And it's no use asking them to let you walk around alone. Oh no. They're wise to that devious tactic. They pretend to be doing an inventory which amazingly involves taking the very same route around the store as you.

It was so bad at the 2nd store that I walked past a chair and then decided to try it out and when I backed onto it, I found myself on the salesperson's knee !

I guess they're all on commission so don't want to lose a sale to some johnny-cum-lately colleague who happened to be near us when we made our decision. And some people may LIKE having a salesperson walk with them around the store.

I just don't. I especially don't when I've made it clear at the outset that I want to look around by myself. I just wish they'd realise that doesn't mean I want a conjoined twin nattering in my ear at every step.

Mind you, then there is Office Max. We went there too. They've adopted the same policy as WalMart who a long time ago, decided customers know how to work everything from an orange to a laptop computer so why employ anyone except checkout staff.

At Office Max today there was one checkout girl. That was it. And it was wonderful. We looked at 'stuff' and weren't bothered by anyone asking if they could help us. We picked up diaries and Filofax inserts and instinctively knew how they worked. I tried out a felt tip pen as if I was born to do so and although a box of paper clips had me stumped for a few minutes, I did quickly work out how to use them. All on my own. It was a wonderful shopping experience.

So to all sales staff everywhere. If I enter your store and tell you I just want to look around on my own, please respect my wishes.

If I want a stalker, I can find plenty on Facebook and Twitter.

London Calling....Send More String.

Well it's the first day of a new month and already a lot has happened.

Leeds United sacked their manager after last night's embarrassing 4-1 home defeat to Birmingham.

40 people moved into the park.

It's still pretty cold in Europe.

Stocks rose sharply on both sides of the pond.

And I had a bratwurst for lunch.

I firmly believe those last two were influenced by each other !

Actually I'd arranged to meet Debby for lunch down by the cafe next to the lake so I rode my bike down there and ordered the Wednesday Special......a bratwurst, a bag of chips (crisps to non Americans) and a diet Sprite all for $3 (£1.90). A bargain.

Of course the outdoor location in the shady grove beside the lake was priceless and a seaplane landing during the meal provided entertainment too. I'm not sure WHY it landed but it was a short visit as seconds later it took off again and soon became a speck in the azure blue sky.

Did I mention the sky was blue ? And the temp was 81F ? Well they were....and are.

After the meal, I rode around the park to burn off the calories just consumed. It was lovely to be out peddling in the warm sunshine and waving to everyone. Sometimes I felt like Patrick McGoohan going around "The Village" so I kept a wary eye out for errant weather balloons.

There were quite a few residents lying sunbathing around the main swimming pool and one or two in the water. The heated water I'll have you know ! Pampered lot that we are.

As I peddled past, the air was full of coconut sun block cream mixed with Oil of Olay, a heady mix that almost knocked me off my bike. There were two doubles games taking place on the adjacent tennis courts although rallies tended to be over quickly. Any return going back over the net was almost always a winner !

Speaking of sport, last Monday we played golf at a new course for me, the South course at Highlands Ridge. It was out between Sebring and Avon Park with orange groves down one side of some fairways. There is a rumour that as we walked up the fairway on one of these holes, an orange may have been plucked and shared between us.

Allegedly.

The course even had slopes on one or two holes and the 18th had a drop from tee to green that I never knew existed in boringly flat old Florida. As we were pretty tired by the 18th, we were glad it WAS a drop down and not a climb up. I mean we had golf carts as usual but even SEEING climbs can be tiring !

I know. I've become a tad lazy and spoiled when it comes to golf now and I'm not sure I could even play anymore without the use of a cart.

Several balls were lost to the waters crossing many of the fairways and guarding even more of the greens. We also spent more time in the sand than a family on an outing to Bridlington and much (technical) cursing turned the air the colour of the sky at times.

But it was great fun. We had a ball.

Sadly we needed several more.

Finally today is Old Scotland Yard Phone Number Day, a little known "day" I just made up around the date if written correctly. Written to fit this tenuous link in fact.

Back in the day, when making a phone call meant tightening the string between two tin cans, phone numbers in UK towns and cities that required more than 10,000 numbers were made up of 3 letters and 4 numbers.

London district names would be shortened to 3 letters and as the original Scotland Yard (the London Metropolitan Police HQ) was in Whitehall, its number became WHI-1212. Bizarrely this never really caught on whereas the full name and number did. On many crime tv shows of the time, the shout would go up to ring Scotland Yard on Whitehall 1212.

So what has that got to do with today ? Well as we in the UK put the day first when writing the date, today is 1/2/12 or....drum roll......1212.

Told you it was tenuous.

One of these days I'll work out how to make this blog entertaining as well as educational !

Until then I'm off to get the sand out of my shoes.

Ancient News - You Heard It Here First.

As my old mate Erasmus once said...."In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is King."

Actually what he said was..... "In regione caecorum rex est luscus" but he was a clever clogs and liked to show off by speaking in Latin.

It's a little known fact, but I was taught Latin and Greek at school. And Ancient History.

I actually chose two of those and the other, Latin, was thrust upon me. I think that back in the day in Northern Ireland, every Catholic child was taught Latin if only to make the Mass a bit more interesting as you could translate as it went along !

Sadly this never worked for me and going to Mass EVERY day, I simply 'learned' the words parrot fashion and hadn't a clue what they meant. Thus I could recite large chunks of Latin to anyone who cared to listen but couldn't order a case of wine from an Italian vineyard if you paid me. Not that they spoke Latin either but my point is, combining the Latin from the Mass with the Latin I learned in school has been as much use to me in later life as the high hopes I had for the condom I bought in the hot summer of 1968.

Basically.....no use whatsoever.

And then there was Greek. Oh not modern Greek which might have been useful on a later trip to Greece. No, this was Ancient Greek. Another dead language. I could talk about battles and generals and what Leonidas wore to a Friday night orgy (not much as it happens !) but as for shopping at a modern Athenian mall, I'd have been clueless.

So why pick it ? Well it was a choice between Greek or Irish so for me it was a no brainer. I always felt a bit sorry for the 98% of the Greek class who had actually chosen Irish but to even out the numbers and ensure the 2 of us who chose Greek weren't lonely, they were forced to learn Greek. Hehe. No actually I didn't feel sorry for them at all.

Since leaving school in 1970, I've never uttered a word of ancient Greek and to my knowledge the only Latin words I've spoken have been a few temper fugits and the occasional semper fi (semper fidelis really) when getting into a modern war movie. Oh and I may have thrown in a few other well known phrases ad nauseam.

Including ad nauseam if fact.

Now I know a lot of legal and medical terms have Latin or Greek roots but then again I'm not a lawyer or a doctor so it's hard for me to take comfort from that fact. I guess my 45 year old knowledge of Latin/Greek can come in handy when I hear some new technical word as I can have a decent stab at what it means.

But I've never regretted choosing Ancient History as a school subject. As a teenager I loved Homer's stories long before they were used as a basis for The Simpsons. Being a shy child at boarding school, I'd often transport myself to the golden age of classical heroes and battle with the Cyclops and Medusa and sail the Aegean Sea finding adventures and excitement galore. Often I'd be a Spartan warrior with my helmet and shield (and not a lot else it seems) and fight anyone who glared at me. School bullies beware !

In reality, I'd probably have been one of the many babies thrown off the cliffs when it became clear I'd need glasses and be bald in later life ! Only the bestest kids survived in Sparta.

(I know, I know. This myth has been debunked by experts now but once again, this is MY blog)

Strictly speaking, Ancient History wasn't really about all that but it did give me a life long love of The Iliad and The Odyssey and I think everyone should read them in some form. Just don't watch any version of Jason And The Argonauts. Hollywood crap.

Now if you're wondering when I'm going to get to the point and tie all this Latin/Greek/Ancient History stuff in with something that maybe happened on, say, the golf course yesterday.........well you'll have a long wait.

I just woke up this morning and for some unknown reason, that "one-eyed King" phrase popped into my head and a blog post was born.

Sometimes, just sometimes, a blog post can be that random.

Dog Days In Florida

As the temp hits 85F/29.4c outside and a rather too warm 82F/28c inside, it's time to close the doors and windows and turn on the air conditioning.

Apart from not being able to see the laptop screen for sweat in my eyes, the other sign that it's too warm in here is to look at Pixie, our small long haired dachshund. She just flops down on the carpet wherever her little legs have taken her.

She has several bed options and when the mornings were chillier a few weeks ago, she loved to leave her living room bed and stroll out to the lanai and lie in a sunbeam. She'd even move as the sunbeam crossed the floor as the morning passed into the afternoon.

A dog's life ? You betcha.

But as well as protecting us from rogue sunbeams, she also "protects" us from the approach of strangers. And friends. And the Fedex driver. And other dogs. And cats, rabbits, birds and gators. Basically she'll bark at the approach of anything with a pulse. Us included.

Of course once a human actually comes right up the drive to the screen door, she'll stand threateningly on the other side until they speak to her and then she'll roll over on her back and all four stumpy legs will quiver with excitement at the idea of her tummy being rubbed.

Experts in canine evolution are as yet uncertain if this survival policy is any use whatsoever but as long haired dachshunds are not an endangered species, I have to think it's a pretty damn clever policy.

I suspect possums learned it from dachshunds and then took it one stage further.

But like most teenagers, Pixie has to earn her keep around the house so as well as fending off over friendly gators and directionally challenged snakes, she does her chores. One of these chores is to vacuum the kitchen floor and this she does with enthusiasm after the preparation of every meal.

Be it fixing basic cereal or using a multitude of ingredients to prepare a mouthwatering evening meal, once we've left the kitchen for the dining table, Pixie moves in to sweep up. Actually she likes to move in BEFORE we leave but tends to get shouted at and runs the risk of being stepped on. It's often a risk she feels is worth taking !

In the kitchen, she comes into her own. Nature may have given her short legs and an undersized body but these are perfect physical attributes for getting her snout into every corner of the kitchen floor. Speaking of snouts, her's would put an anteater to shame.

It's like the attachment on a vacuum cleaner and she uses it just as effectively.

The downside to this behaviour is that she often picks up items that are both unwanted and inedible as her hovering isn't confined to the kitchen floor. The lanai itself is fair game as is the laundry room, bathrooms and bedrooms. Ironically she's worked out that 'goodies' are seldom if ever to be found around the carpeted edges of the living room so we just have to vacuum in here ourselves ! Pah !!

Given this ability to get into every corner of the house, we're used to seeing Pixie wandering around with all sorts of things 'stuck' onto the end of her nose. These are usually small bits of tissue, paper or fluff and it's only after this sight has given us a good laugh that we restore her dignity by removing them for her.

A few minutes ago the heat got to her and I heard a little sighhhhh as she plopped on the carpet near my chair. This is the sight that greeted me.........

Who's a good little hovering up girl, then ??!!!

Watch The Birdie

I've noticed a bit of "doom and gloom" creeping into my posts of late and I'm not 'aving it.

No, no, no.

I'm in sunny Florida in January and most days it's over 80F outside. Those facts alone should banish all thoughts of gloom.

But then I am in Buttonwood Bay so maybe a bit of doom is warranted !

Anyway, I went for my walk yesterday and after a little rest at the Cafe by the Lake where I may or may not have refuelled myself with a burger deluxe ( the deluxe meaning it came with lettuce, tomato and onion....oh wait, sorry.....with lettuce, tom-aye-to and onion ), I moved on to the edge of the lake and sat on a swing seat contemplating life and its great mysteries.

As usual I had my trusty compact camera with me and after a while, the local wildlife worked out I posed no threat and closed in to pose themselves !

I quite like this shot of the bird with the very photogenic pier in the background or the pier with the very photogenic bird in the foreground. Whatever. As it was almost a silhouette, I was tempted to 'make' it a black and white shot but decided there was just enough colour to leave it alone.

After sorting out world hunger and poverty and solving the Eurozone crisis by deciding Greece needed to be nuked asap, I got up and walked along the channel that leads off the lake and where all the boats are docked. This is also where most of "our" regular wildlife can be found as many of the residents simply fish from the back of their boats without either ever needing to expend energy by actually going out onto the lake.

All these birds have names but I have enough problems remembering human names without getting into bird ones !

Here is a close up of Fred. Not likely his real name. It's probably Mitt. Or Newt. Not Bubba though.

That'd be silly.

Fred was in the water at the edge of the channel, patiently waiting for a caught fish to be tossed his way. We engaged in a bit of basic line dancing for a while; I'd slowly approach him and he'd slowly wade away. I'd retreat and he'd return to his starting point.

That pretty much sums up line dancing for me although I fear I've made it far more exciting than it really is.

Before we were asked to get a room, I stopped the dance and settled where I was to take this close up.

The background is a bit distracting but as he was down the bank below the level of my feet, the water was the only background available !

The problem with carrying a camera on my park walks is that although I see loads of photo worthy views, I know I've taken them all before. Oh I might be a few inches away from where I was on a previous occasion but really, how many photos of the place do I need ?

Maybe I should go up the road to Disney World, Universal or Sea World and vary my photos a bit.

For now though, you'll have to settle for an unknown bird, a pier and......Fred.

A Death "In The Family"

In the past, I've jokingly called Florida God's Waiting Room and as such, Buttonwood Bay would be positioned very near the door. Given that there are about 1800 seniors in here, the sad fact is that hardly a week goes by without one of that number exiting that door.

The internal roads don't have a bike lane....they have an ambulance lane !

Lets put it this way: when you are told that so and so has gone North for good, it doesn't necessarily mean they've left the park and returned to Michigan or Canada !

Sometimes it does though and so sometimes that news can be ambiguous.

Great is the pull of grandkids and great grandkids upon the emotions of this community. Many residents do leave as they miss their families so much and that is very understandable despite the use of email, Skype and cell phones to keep in touch. None of those can make up for missing out on precious moments with little Mitt, Bubba or Newt !

I know of some friends here who are leaving as soon as their houses sell as they just miss their grandkids so much and more to the point, vice versa.

Of course human nature being what it is, we all expect them to be back down again once those same grandkids have driven them to distraction. The idea of seniors being with kids is often a lot different from them actually BEING with kids. After a few years of being here playing cards, baking cakes and taking gentle strolls alongside the lake, it's a bit of a shock to have screaming grandkids in your face day in, day out.

So anyway, those people ARE leaving the park to go North and are doing so under their own steam, so to speak.

But I currently know of a couple of residents who are really making the journey North for the last time. One will be in an urn and I'm not sure about the other one yet.

When someone you know suddenly drops dead, it tends to put many things into perspective. It's certainly a much bigger incentive to go on that diet or step up the exercise than having a big crystal ball drop in Times Square. I've never been one for making New Year Resolutions as it's always been someone or something that has caused me to 'do something different' in my life. Certainly not a calendar date.

And I have a few extra issues to worry about if it happened to me here. I'm a stranger in a strange land, remember. What to do with my body ? Who to inform and how ? Have I insurance cover to pay for everything on this side of the pond ? What are my wishes ?

Actually that last one is easy. I don't want to die. Ever. Ok ?

And despite having hospitals and medical centres up the ying yang here in Sebring, it seems that anyone with a condition other than a cough gets airlifted to Tampa at a cost of $10k. Far be it for me to suggest that this is down to the US medical system but I find it hard to understand that a town with a population of over 10,000 (which increases dramatically in winter when we "snowbirds" arrive), 28% of whom are 65 and over, hasn't got the medical facilities to deal with the after effects of something as common as a heart attack !!

But wait. We have a helicopter service that will whisk such patients to Tampa....for $10k thank you very much.

So what can we learn from all these barely related and mostly depressing facts ?

1) If you feel a heart attack coming on in Sebring, drive like crazy to Tampa.

2) Make sure someone knows what to do with your body if you don't make it.

3) Never use the expression "they've gone North for good" in this park.

4) Grandkids and Skype were made for each other.

5) Mitt, Bubba and Newt are just silly names.

Right, I'm off out for a Bigmac, large fries and coke. But with the Sebring chopper probably hovering over McDonald's, I'll order a diet coke and no pickle on the burger.

And hold the urn !

When Two Worlds Collide.

If you read my previous post, you'll know I've just started reading "The Hobbit."

But from the opening line, I've had a very peculiar in-head sensation which just won't go away.

I'm calling it Postgate-itis because the effect is as though I'm reading the book as if it was being spoken by Oliver Postgate ! Very bizarre but stick with me on this..........

Oliver Postgate was a British writer, animator and puppeteer (1925-2008) who created and narrated some of the best children's stories ever to grace UK tv screens when I was growing up.

Ivor The Engine, Bagpuss, Clangers and Pogles' Wood were all his creations and Bagpuss was voted the most popular children's television programme of all time.

He also created and narrated my particular favourite, Noggin The Nog, and this is what is coming into my head when I read The Hobbit.

Postgate's voice mesmerised me as a child. He was to narration what J.K. Rowling has been to wizards. He brought the stories to life for me and back in the day, his little cut out characters that jerked their way across beautifully drawn backgrounds laid the foundations for animations to come, including South Park.

I shouldn't mention South Park in the same breath as the creations of Oliver Postgate as by and large, his stories were as gentle as South Park's are aggressive.

Despite being set in a Viking type era complete with dragons, flying machines and talking birds, Noggin was a good natured King of the Northmen and the stories always had happy endings. As a child I remember the 'baddies' had large pointy noses and chins so that there was no doubt that they WERE baddies. Even today I never trust people with large pointy noses and chins.

Maybe this is why I have issues with Bruce Forsyth and to a lesser extent, Jay Leno !

Mind you, it helped when these 'baddies' had names like Nogbad the Bad.

Well I never said it was subtle and we children of the 50's needed all the help we could get.

There aren't many tv shows from the 50's that would enthral children these days but I think that Postgate's stories and the animated shows were so timeless that they would still be popular today. Sadly kids are now being fed a diet of fast action shows with such tight edits that a 2 second burst is deemed too long. In fact all tv is like that now. Watch any commercial or action show and if a scene lasts more than a couple of seconds, they assume the audience will switch over.

Previews of upcoming movies are the worst for this. They cram in all the nonsense about what critics are saying about the movie and how they are already calling it 'the best movie of the year.'

Not much of an accolade when we're in the 3rd week of January !

Meanwhile, we're being assaulted by one second bursts of the best action clips, so fast in fact that they are borderline subliminal. And finally we get to when the movie is due to be released but those words are lost to the human ear as they are spoken by the same guy who tells us in 5 seconds about the possible side effects of every medicinal product advertised on tv.

"Possible side effects include......blah......blah......blah......death.......blah......blah....blah."

So I think modern kids should be introduced to Noggin The Nog and the other creations of the brilliant Oliver Postgate. They'd be transported to magical lands full of colourful characters and best of all, given the time to let their own imaginations fill in any gaps.

A child's imagination is a wondrous place which can only be improved with characters like Noggin, Bagpuss, Ivor and even a few Clangers.

Trust me. The memories of them will last a lifetime.

So have a watch and more importantly, a listen to this video clip from a later episode when they were produced in glorious colour. Then think of hearing that voice as you read The Hobbit.

Bilbo Baggins.....meet Oliver Postgate.

The Story So Far.............

I'm a modern kinda guy. Love new tech stuff and all that. Can't afford most of it, but love it all the same.

When ebooks came along, I embraced the idea. I could download and read books on my laptop.

Awesome.

Of course despite being pretty portable, it's not easy to curl up in bed with a laptop and mine got particularly cumbersome when its battery pack died and it became a mains powered device only ! Beds and cables do not mix well.

Then I got a smartphone and the Kindle app and suddenly I was in heaven. Well ok in bed actually where I do most of my reading but now with a much smaller hot throbbing device with me.

(You people make me sick !)

Anyway, as I'm tight and wanted only free books, I was mostly restricted to the classics. This turned out to be a good thing as I discovered I'd not actually read most of the classics I thought I had read. Seems I'd watched the movies but not read the books ! For shame.

And so, over the years, I've worked my way through Treasure Island, A Tale of Two Cities, Dracula, Great Expectations and so on. Brill......and there are plenty left to get through.

Now reading a book on a smartphone is all well and good but the screen is a tad on the small side. If I could afford a tablet, that would be better but of course they are bigger than books so why bother ? Well you get a bucket load of books on one tablet so that would be reason enough.

But I haven't got a tablet so the point is a moot one.

I love that word.

Moot.

Mooty.

Mootiest.

Mootfull.

Moving on.

So last night I finished another classic on my smartphone and really didn't fancy starting another. I fancied a book. A proper paper book. I went looking on the shelves. Bookshelves.

I came upon a paperback version of The Hobbit and despite the cover being curled and the pages being more yellow than white, I took it to bed with me like a treasured friend.

Whoa. Dammit, that didn't come out right. Oh well.......

So after taking my pills (the only tablets I can afford) and lying on the bed so the ceiling fan could cool me down, I started reading this 1974 printing of The Hobbit.

Chapter 1

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

I was hooked immediately but I have to admit, the image of Bilbo Baggins going into his des res hill house at the start of Lord of the Rings popped into my head. A bit different from a simple hole in the ground which is what I'd have been imagining if I'd never seen the movie.

So already the movie of the NEXT book was forming images in my mind and on it went. As the book in my hand described the layout of this 'hole' with all its twists and turns and furnished rooms, I was so there. So there in the movie version of the 'hole' that is. A very Hollywood hobbit 'hole'. Lovely wood everywhere, fitted kitchen, luxury fixtures and fittings - so much so that if you'd stopped off at the concession area for popcorn and a drink and arrived in the theatre after Bilbo had entered his 'hole', you'd have thought he was in a modern apartment in Manhattan !

This brings up the whole can of worms that is.....movie first or book first ?

The only time this applied to me was with The Sum Of All Fears by Tom Clancy. I'd bought the book at an airport store for reading on a long flight and then saw the movie on tv some years later. That was enough to tell me never to do that again. Bits cut out, bits added, characters removed and new ones inserted.

No, for me its either/or.......but not both.

Hmmm if this blog post had a point, I seem to have forgotten it. Lost the plot, you might say.

Oh yes, paper books versus electronic books.

Well unlike with books versus movies based on those books, I'm coming down on the side of.......both.

Both have their place and obviously if you want to have reading material for a 6 month holiday you'll want an ebook device or risk a hernia and excess baggage charges with all those books.

But now and then there is nothing like reading the real thing. The smell alone is worth it. I'm not sure what Bilbo's 'hole' smells like (dammit again) but reading about it has come to life already in this well thumbed 1974 edition of the story. Slighty musty with a faint aroma of sweaty feet.

Well I did say I was lying on top of the bed so those were probably mine.

Now would that have happened with an iPad ? I think not.

My Dad - The Centenarian

My dad was born on January 16th, 1912 which makes today his 100th birthday.

Happy birthday dad.....wherever you may be !

I say that because he died in 1986, when he was 74 and I was 34.

Some of those ages and years surprised me when I thought about them today. See, I never thought of my dad as old. He never looked it. I realise that these days, 74 isn't THAT old but he had a youthful face. He was also very active. Not in a keep fit, sporty way as he had no time for such things.

Dad worked just about every waking hour. He had his regular job with a painting/decorating company and then did private jobs in the evenings to bring in the money needed to get two sons through boarding school. My mum did about 3 low paid jobs as well AND we took in the occasional lodger.

With all that going on, how come we weren't rolling in disposable income ??!! But we weren't.

Dad was a great painter and decorator but he barely charged more than he'd paid for the materials. This made him very popular but never made him much money. That was just how he was.

We barely got by with both my parents working their socks off from dawn till dusk. This upbringing, although we boys never really knew how many sacrifices were being made for us at the time, forged my attitude to money in that I've never bought what I couldn't pay for up front; I've never been in debt and I've always been a saver.

Dad was a kind, gentle man who never raised his voice and if we did something wrong, he showed his displeasure by telling us he had obviously failed as a parent. Man was that a powerful guilt giver. To this day I still remember how terrible I felt about misbehaving in church after getting one of those speeches from him. To think I'd let down this wonderful man was almost more than I could stand and led me to berate myself for my actions more than any punishment could do. When it came from my mother too, oh my God. Both barrels at once ? I felt so low I was under the belly of a worm that was under the belly of another worm.

I donno if dad had a happy life. It was certainly a hard life but we had lots of fun too. He loved my mum more than life itself and vice versa. How she lived on for another 16 years without him was anyone's guess. Within the family, most money was on weeks, not years.

That's not to say she ever forgot him, not for one second. She wanted to be with him but wasn't going to help the process along in any way. She was too much of a catholic for that. But as she approached 80 and her health had failed so much that she had to go into a home, she wasn't going to hang about any longer. Not wanting to be a burden on anyone, it was no surprise then, that within a few weeks of entering the home, she slipped away to be with dad.

Dad didn't want much out of life. He was a simple man who lived without luxuries and never sought them. He didn't leave a rich legacy of sage quotes but rather, left his life itself as a testimony to the man he was. He also left me with indelible memories of a man at peace with himself and with a firm belief in his faith. He loved his God, his wife and his family above all else.

And his God, his wife and his family were all the better for that love and that life.

I just wish I'd told him that more often.

Happy birthday dad.

From One Island National To Another...........

Despite it being 'owned' by France, I've suddenly become very fond of a small island in the Indian Ocean called Reunion. It's had several names over the centuries, as often happens with small islands in the Indian Ocean but for now, it's called Reunion.

Yesterday, someone from that small island (in the Indian Ocean) put in a Google search for a description of tangelos and up popped my blog post from this time last year. He (or she) got a very informative post about tangelos and I got my 142nd visitor from a different country.

The island is only 39 miles long x 28 miles wide but has a population of over 800,000. Its closest neighbours are Mauritius, 120 miles to the NE and the much larger Madagascar 450 miles to the west. Of course we all know that Madagascar is full of funny animated animals, many not exactly indigenous to the island including a lion, a giraffe, a hippo and a zebra. Sightings of several penguins have been reported but conservationists remain sceptical.

So anyway, thank you, Reunion Islander. How are things in the Indian Ocean ? Damp ?

On that topic, Reunion does hold a world record though. Two in fact.

Between 15th and 16th March 1952, the town of Cilaos 'received' 73.62in of rainfall, the greatest 24hr precipitation total ever recorded on earth. And the island also holds the record for the 72hr total in March 2007.

I guess what we must take from these facts is......never EVER visit Reunion in March !!

Oh and for all those interested, clearly I cheated death again last night. And I woke with my spleen intact. Win, win.

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream ?

Well I woke up this morning...........

(Sing the rest of the various songs that start with those words if you like but I'm just stating a fact.)

I woke up this morning.

Always a good thing to do if you want to get the day off to a good start and I try to do it as often as possible. NOT waking up prays on my mind a lot.

For as long as I can remember, which admittedly isn't long these days, I've had a fear of going to sleep and not waking up. Dying in my sleep in other words. I don't mess about with being in a coma or even worse, being alive but totally paralysed so no one knows I'm alive.

No, I just worry about dying. Always have. For as long as I can remember, remember !

This may be the reason for the 'night terrors' I experience from time to time. Thankfully rarely.

I'll wake up suddenly and jump out of bed to somehow prove I'm not really dead (yet) and then stand at the side of my bed feeling rather foolish and wondering what other people do at 3am.

I'm embarrassed enough when this happens in my own bedroom but when I'm elsewhere, the relief of discovering I'm not dead is compounded by the guilt of waking up the rest of the house with my shouting.

Oh I forgot that bit. I invariably shout out something as I exit the bed. Usually something vaguely related to not being ready to be dead....yet. I call it Thanatophobia Tourettis.

And before you try and Google that, I've just mixed Tourettes with the fear of death phobia.

So I lie in bed of a night, as we say in Yorkshire, and while most of me wants to fall asleep, part of me doesn't.....as it may lead to death.

Now most people, if given the choice, would be more than happy to "slip the surly bonds of earth" by dying in their sleep when their time is up. Ironically I'd be one of them.

So why the hell do I fear dying in my sleep ??!! Irrational ? Just a tad.

I partly blame tv. I've tearfully watched all those bedside deaths where friends and relatives come out of the woodwork to say what a great chap you are and how you'll be sorely missed. If I died in my sleep, I'd be robbed of those touching scenes !

It's no wonder I stay up so late every night.....well after midnight on most occasions. Logic tells me I could just as easily peg it in my chair whilst watching Two & A Half Men and if so, no autopsy would be needed. But I think statistics show that bed is the place to be if you wanna permanently avoid those 2.5 reruns.

"Died peacefully in his sleep" seems to be the popular way to go and I really need to embrace this concept and stop worrying about it. And my spleen.

My spleen ? Yes, indeedily.

I think a lot about my spleen too.

Again it's tv to blame. I've seen too many shows and movies when, after an accident, the victim recovers only to be told "we had to remove your spleen." It's a particularly popular result when a child is involved. "Jenny is fine, Mrs Papadopoulos, but we had to remove her spleen." This is usually followed by a flood of tears from the aforementioned Mrs Papadopoulos who is relieved that her precious Jenny is alive but slightly concerned that she may never again play the violin because of her missing spleen.

Greek tv can be so dramatic !

So what's a spleen then and why do we seem to cope pretty much ok without it ? And more relevant, why does it seem so easy to damage it in an accident ?

Everything from spilling coffee on yourself to surviving a plane crash seems to carry the risk of having your spleen removed. I think there is a Far East market for spleen soup or something. Maybe ground up spleen is an aphrodisiac. Certainly surgeons seem to whip them out without so much as a by your leave. Maybe it's useful as a teaching aid !

"You need to hone your surgical skills, Patterson. Here, take this patient in cubical 10. Ingrowing toenail. Off you go and whip out his spleen."

Never your appendix though. Oh no, that useless organ is damage proof. It'll survive any accident totally unharmed. You could lay it out on the kitchen table and whack it repeatedly with a meat tenderiser and that damn organ would carry on doing......well whatever it does.

" Jenny is fine, Mrs Papadopoulos, but we had to remove her appendix. "

" You did WHAT ? OMG my poor little girl. Why didn't you just let her die ? "

Of course the spleen performs a valuable role within the body. It's just that with all the current medical knowledge at our disposal, no one quite knows what that role is. Something about red blood cells and the immune system but clearly nothing vital. We can live without it and this is just as well, given its propensity for keeling over at the slightest mention of 'accidental damage.'

Ok and you wonder why I don't sleep easily every night ! Jeez it's a wonder I can sleep at all. Forget the problems with the Eurozone and who will win Celebrity Big Brother, I have much bigger worries on my mind every night.

Will I wake up in the morning and if I do, will I still have a viable spleen ?

Great. Now I have an image of someone discovering my cold, dead body in the morning with a dirty great gash in my left side.........and an Asian looking guy in scrubs high tailing it down the street with my spleen in a Ziplock bag.

I don't think Lunesta is going to cut it tonight.

When Are Two Wheels Better Than Four ? NEVER !

Yesterday, for the want of anything better to do, I decided to bike into town.

Now I like biking as it gets me around the park quicker than walking AND I get exercise. I love the feel of the wind through my hair and........

Ok I'll stop right there before I lose credibility altogether !

But I do like biking.

So as it was a little bit chilly, I donned my hooded fleece, slipped on my ENGLAND baseball cap to protect my bald pate from the sun and made sure the batteries were fully charged on my portable gramophone, or mp3 as you young 'uns would call it.

Within seconds, I was out of the park and on the backroad. As in, collapsed in a heap as I'd paused at the stop sign and fallen over ! Only kidding. I was out on Skipper Road with a 2 mile stretch ahead of me as straight as if the Romans had built it.

Flat too, but then all roads are flat here. That's why I like biking.

At the end of Skipper Road I crossed over onto Sparta Road which would take me all the way to US-27 and Sebring. I'd decided to set off at a leisurely pace and then, once warmed up, increase it to...a leisurely pace. If it's one thing I've learned about biking as I've gotten older, it's to pace myself. Start slowly and keep it that way. My days of explosive bursts of acceleration are long gone and anyway, they only tended to happen after cresting a steep hill and freewheeling down the other side.

When I was in my 30's, I once got to 38mph on a downhill near Otley. I also got a free facelift, several bugs in my teeth and shattered nerves when I realised that putting on the brakes at that speed would probably set fire to the rubber, rendering them useless. My whole life flashed before me, as did 3 astonished pedestrians, several birds devouring some road kill and the "No Trespassing" sign I totally ignored as I shot like a WMD into a field handily placed at the bottom of the hill.

Speaking of road kill, I was no sooner tootling along Sparta Road, when I came upon 5 or 6 vultures tucking into some recently deceased critter that I didn't feel the need to examine too closely. Not that there was much left TO examine but judging by the amount of blood splatter on the road (thank you CSI), it had been a critter of serious proportions.

One vulture was standing off to one side so rather than disgust you with a photo of his mates literally tearing into their lunch, I'll give you a photo of him. In case you are eating. Ever thoughtful, eh ?

Feel free to gasp at its awesomeness. Marvel at its majesty. Recoil at its ugliness !

Due in no small measure to stopping to witness this a la carte feeding frenzy, it took me 45 minutes to get to the end of Sparta Road and the junction with US-27, a distance of just over 6 miles. And I felt as fresh as a daisy.

Feeling that way, I should've turned around and rode back, but did I ?

I hate hind sight.

I peddled about for a while, riding into motel car parks trying to get views around the lake that I'd never seen from the car. Most properties around the lake are private houses but occasionally there are hotels, motels and businesses which didn't seem to mind an old Brit on a bike wanting to go to the edge of their land to get photogenic views across the water.

Not that I ever stopped to ask.

There was a beach ! Who knew !?

By now I was hungry and not having taken any water with me, very thirsty. But I was in Sebring. The metropolis. Bursting with restaurants, cafes, bars and fast food joints. Ok you try going into any of those with a bike and you'll see my dilemma. I realised that with everyone driving here, my bike was very unlikely to be stolen if left outside but with no security chain and being 6 miles from home with no phone, I wasn't about to put that theory to the test. It would be a long, long walk.

Fast food ? Surely that would be my best choice. In and out quickly and perhaps able to keep an eye on the bike whilst ordering and receiving my food ?

So I set off northwards on the excellent bike path that "runs" around the lake. The buildings on the far side were casting lovely reflections on the water but were too far away to be of much interest, photographically. Then I came upon a couple fishing from their speedboat and with them in the foreground, the background took care of itself.

On the other side of US-27 stood the imposing Spanish style Harder Hall hotel and I'd always wanted a photo of it across yet another stretch of water called Little Lake Jackson. To do this I had to cross 8 lanes and a wide median and not being near to any traffic lights, it took me sometime to achieve this.

I went into a dentist's office and asked if I could go to the side of the building to photograph the hotel and was granted permission. This view is what patients would see whilst in "the chair" and it sure beats anything I'm likely to see from my dentist's chair in suburban Leeds !

The very pink 134 room hotel was built in the mid 20's during the boom years in Sebring but since 1982, it has been lying vacant after a series of owners either went bankrupt or simply ran out of funds for its restoration. Despite being close to being demolished a few times, it was added to the National Register of Historic Places and was finally purchased by the city - who also don't know what to do with it !

I had to cross US-27 again to get back onto the bike path and then I continued northwards to find somewhere to eat/drink. I did realise these were miles I would have to endure on the way back but at the time, the daisy freshness was still upon me.

I stopped off at a Panera Bread outlet as I knew it had wifi and I could share my adventures with the Facebook world ! I posted this photo.

Onwards and northwards I finally called it a day at a Dairy Queen. I really needed something refreshing and yet light as the last thing I needed on the return trip was my stomach trying to digest a burger, fries and drink with my little legs pumping up and down at the same time. Not a good combination. I knew from previous visits to this DQ that I'd never see my parked bike from inside so I needed inspiration.

Knowing my bike would never trigger the "Welcome to Dairy Queen....may I take your order" weighbridge, I waited until a car was going through the drive thru and I followed it to the pay and delivery window. As the girl leaned out to give them their food, I asked if she could take my order ? She laughed and said of course so I ordered a cherry blizzard and as she passed it to me, her smile give my now aching legs the impetus to get me around the corner where I almost collapsed onto an outdoor chair.

The blizzard was like nectar to my parched throat and I rested there for some time, eating it slowly and savouring every spoonfull - although the view wasn't the most memorable.

Now despite what THEY tell you, it's not always a good thing to get back in the saddle. My butt was sore, my thighs were sore, my stomach was very cold and the last of the daisy freshness was but a distant memory. A bit like Buttonwood Bay, a good 10 miles southwards.

You'll not be surprised to learn that I took NO photographs on the ride back. If the camera had been mounted on the handlebars and looking back at me, I could've been the poster child for the Spanish Inquisition. I had to stop 4 times to rest and anyone seeing me getting slowly and painfully off the bike would've dialled 911 and asked for an ambulance with a hoist !

I'd set off at 11:10am and got back to the park at 3:30pm. The vast majority of that time my ass had been sitting, bouncing and generally rubbing the sides of a piece of torturous pseudo leather designed, I am convinced, by the Marquis de Sade. I'd ridden 21.63 miles and felt every .3 of it.

The good news was that from the waist up, I felt great.

Sadly, from the waist down, I couldn't feel much at all. My legs were on fire and my butt cheeks were probably as pink as Harder Hall !

But 24 hrs later and I'm happy to report that I rode around the park again this afternoon. Ok so it was more .63 than 21.63 but I was back 'in' the saddle and feeling good.

Now then, where's this Orlando place I hear so much about and do they have parking for bikes ?!

Getting Into The Grove !

No that's not a typo in the header.........today's post is about me being in the 'grove' and not in the 'groove' but more of that later.

First up....SQUIRREL !!

Last Monday when it was still warm here, I was on Sebring's Harder Hall course playing my regular game of military golf (left, right, left, right up the sides of the fairways) and this time I'd remembered to take my camera with me. On previous visits, we'd been approached by squirrels (SQUIRREL !!) wanting some of our cheese nibbles so in return, I wanted a photo of them.

I'm no expert of course but I'm led to believe they were monkey squirrels, or eastern fox squirrels, or cat squirrels or even stump eared squirrels. In any case, here is a shot of the only one that stayed still long enough to BE photographed. Frisky little critters.

But back to the park and sticking with the wildlife theme, I braved the arctic temps and went for a walk yesterday afternoon. Along the canal path, the 'usual suspects' were out in the sunshine trying to stay warm but as I've posted many photos of them before, I'll just upload this one.........

Walking on around the edge of the lake, I came to the grove, a lovely tree shaded grassy area used for large outdoor gatherings. It's also next to the cafe, the horseshoe pits, the shuffle board and bocce ball courts and now, the newly constructed pickleball court.

Pickleball ? Oh just Google it !

Yesterday afternoon the grove was empty and with most of the wooden picnic tables stacked over on one side, it was much more open than usual and so the low sun cast particularly long shadows across the grass.

I wanted to take some photos towards the sun and despite the camera having a 'backlighting' option, I found it better not to use it. For one thing, it would pop up the flash, assuming I wanted to take a photo of someone or something in the foreground. This can be very useful if you want to photograph someone with a sunrise/sunset behind them as the camera basically takes two exposures so you end up with the sunset AND the person both exposed correctly. Otherwise the person would be a silhouette.

Another benefit of using a different camera setting yesterday was that I achieved much deeper and, I think, more appealing shades of blue from both the lake and the sky. Certainly more dramatic.

When not looking into the sun, the blues reverted to normal but there were still pleasing views to capture. I love the long straggly 'stuff' that hangs down from many of the trees and almost touches the water. I also tried to capture the peace and tranquility of the area as it really is a lovely spot to sit and ponder life's deep mysteries, even on a relatively cold day like yesterday.

Like why do Jonathan Ross and Conan O'Brian have tv shows ?

There was a sun lit pine cone on one of the few picnic tables set up near the cafe and as it contrasted well with the greens and blues around it, I felt it needed to be immortalised.

By now it was close to 5pm and even in the sun, it was getting a bit nippy. Being a tough Brit, I was out in a polo shirt and shorts but as you can see from this trio of walkers, few others shared my dress code.

It would be another hour before sunset but I couldn't hang around. Let's face it, it happens every day ! As you can imagine, and as you've maybe seen from previous posts over the years, the grove becomes a magical place at sunset. It might also be magical at sunrise but I don't 'do' those. A sunset over water is always photogenic and as long as some lone bagpiper doesn't turn up, I love watching sunsets through the grove and across the lake.

Yes getting into the groove in the grove is one of the many aspects of this park that brings me back every winter.

Btw, thank you to the Anguilla islander who became a blog visitor from 'my' 141st country. Readers from new countries, states, principalities and so on are being added VERY slowly now but all are welcome. I'm still hoping to add The Vatican but so far His Holiness has spectacularly failed to answer my emails.

Maybe I should try Skype.