Tag Archives: Florida

Once Again, I Fell Off The Face of the Earth

Hi Again,

I bet you forgot about this blog even existed. It’s ok; I almost did, too.

I’ve been back in Florida for three days. I know I whine about Florida a lot, but today was absolutely beautiful. We went to the Treasure Island Kite Fest, and it was perfect. It started out as a cloudy day, and later when the clouds blew away it was just beautiful.

Patty

Seahorses Kite Festival

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Ooops! I Did It Again!

Britney Spears can not sing worth a hoot, btw.

Once again, I have not written in weeks. I wish I could tell someone, I really don’t have time for rheumatoid arthritis right now, give this to me when I’m 90. One of the wonderful side effects of swollen wrist joints is carpal tunnel syndrome. It really is not fun to sit and type. I still have lots to say, I just can’t type.  I also get to wear special gloves and ace bandages on my forearms.

On the home front, our neighbors on both sides of our house down here are not speaking to us. They are sisters, and their combined age must be nearing 160. One of their husbands is at least 87. We found him sitting on our deck in one of our chairs last week. 🙂 We just waited with him until his wife found him.

So, the only one speaking to us has Alzheimer’s. The reason for this shunning? Our deck. Apparently, it’s a monstrosity, and it’s on our neighbor’s property. News to us. My husband and I measured the distance between our house and theirs about 1,000 times and made sure we never crossed into their yard. In fact, instead of being on the property line, our garden and deck end eight inches on our side.

The other tidbit is technically, it’s neither of our yards. These are mobile homes, and we own the house, not the land. We don’t own the yard, trees or flowers we plant, the deck we built, or the driveway. Technically, she has nothing to complain about because neither of us owns anything once we step out of our homes.

The day we found Eddie on our deck, the two sisters and husbands went out to breakfast. They have been going to a diner named Rosie’s  every.single.day  for the three years we’ve had the house down here. We were of the topic of conversation. We were probably the topic for days, since Bitch Thelma has a tendency to rant on once she decides to hate you. Bitch Thelma, ragged on so much that Ed started having chest pains and had to go to the hospital! Jeeze, enough already. Now he has to wear a heart monitor because his sister-in-law couldn’t shut up about us!

I emailed Bitch Louise, her sister, and explained how we did not build or plant anything on Bitch Thelma’s property. I received a missive back that basically said I’m not interested in this topic, don’t talk to me ever again. Nice.

We have officially named the deck The Monstrosity. I enjoy saying things like, “I think I’ll go sit on The Monstrosity for a while. I try saying this when Bitch Thelma’s husband is around. He’s not talking to us either, so he must suffer, too.

The pic of the deck is awful, I know. I am usually very good with my Big Girl Camera, but apparently the house and deck were tilted when I took the picture. The PVC furniture adds a nice touch, doesn’t it? We’re bringing down nice stuff in January, and staining the deck a grayish color to make it less noticeable. If BTcould have waited for the end result, and not pitched a fit… Oh well, f*** them if they can’t take a joke.

That’s it for now, over and out.

Patty

Deck 1

To The Person Who Drilled a Screw into My Mustang

My front left tire had a six inch screw in it today. The man at the dealership said the only way it got all the way in there was to use a power drill.

The interesting thing is that where we live in Florida, there are three Mustangs on two streets. We are all friends. We all had the same type of screws in our front tires. Are people just not raised right anymore?? Does someone have a vendetta against us?? Was someone just in a drilling mood, and thought Mustangs would be fun? We have a combined age of almost 150. Who could we possibly be threatening? Jeeze, Louise.

It takes real tennis balls to walk up someone’s driveway with a portable drill and ram in screws into a car. Who knows where the Happy Driller is tonight? I just know what I’d do with my drill if I ever find him. Insert evil laughter here.

Drill

Long Time, No Type

Forgive me for not writing within the past month:

Here are some good and true excuses:

The heat index has been 95F since we got here in August, and my fingers slip on the keys because I am one giant sweat ball.

My doctor in Delaware lied. Florida weather is not making my RA better, it’s made it worse. I get carpal tunnel ever time I type, so it makes writing a whole lot less fun.

My husband The Big Guy feels I must go with him on every.trip.to.home.depot even if it’s three times in one day. I need to cut the cord. With a hedge trimmer.

We are starting a small booth in an antique store down here in FL, so worry about that has taken up some time.

I’ve had too much fun giving the Civic Association’s home page on FB too much of a hard time to type. Most of the people on there are stuck in their ways. I’ll have to tell you about the woman who thought poisoning stray cats here was ok another time.

I’ve gotten hooked on Veronica Mars, and am now starting to watch it all over from the pilot episode.

TBG and I have begun a life of crime. Ralph moved. We never met him, but his gf had sex in our house with a known felon. I know it wasn’t Ralph’s fault that his slutty girlfriend cheated on him, but it’s guilt by association. He’s moved, his house is vacant, and he has good plants. I now have a Mexican post cactus and several agaves.

End of excuses.

It’s nice to start writing again here. I will be happier when the weather cools down, which should right around Halloween when we will be leaving. Never fails. Crazily, we will be coming back about a week later, laden with vintage stuff to sell in our little shop at the antique store. Basically, we will either stuff all of our bins of collectibles into our van, or if they don’t fit, rent a trailer.

We have a new best friend down here. His name is Terry, and he has had fun suggestions of things to do down here. He’s lived in FL three years longer than us, so he knows cool places. Yesterday, we went to the Chiluly Exhibit in downtown St. Petersburg.

Pattyargon tumbleweed

Baseball Part II, or how a Winter Person Wound Up in Clearwater

Phillies

Now you know my dad loved those Yankees. I think I liked them because I lived in NY, met a few players and got to go to the World Series. After that, my interest in the team and baseball in general waned.

I married The Big Guy in 2008. He asked if we could go to a ballgame, so off we went to a Phillies game. I got the cheap seats, and we went to several games. By the middle of the season we could both name the players, knew what a can of corn was (easy catch by a fielder), the positions, and the names of everyone on the team. The Phillies won the World Series! We were hooked. We spent as much as $300 a ticket. It was nuts, but we did it. Howard, Rollins, Werth, Victorino, Ibanez, Ruiz, they were all golden, and young.

We kept going to the games, still buying too expensive seats, until TBG decided we should try spring training instead. It’s cheap! There are no bad seats! It’s warm! Same bad hot dogs and obnoxious fans.We haven’t been to a game in Philly for several years, but we actually bought a really nice mobile home so we can go down in February and watch The Boys of Summer. It doesn’t really matter that the young team from 2008 is gone;. Going down in February makes me feel hopeful and happy. There are new players to see, more baseballs to bring to get signed, and more hot dogs to eat. 

Put me in coach, I’m ready to play.

Patty