Author: mikeljohnston1 (Page 66 of 267)
I am enjoying our view of the Atlantic Ocean from our 6th floor condo. It’s been a welcome change of scenery even though just a few hundred miles from home. I can monitor what’s going on at my house thanks to the Ring cameras. A neighbor is watering our plants, deliveries have been made, and my son is staying the night without his kids to make use of the pool. Everybody needs a change from the routine.
We ventured outside only twice yesterday, considering the windy conditions. First, we stocked up on groceries and then later took an Uber to The Breakers Hotel. Plans were for dinner at Flagler’s Steakhouse but we found that it was separate from the hotel and not as desirable as the Seafood Bar. We sat side-by-side on a comfy love seat with a view of the turbulent waves crashing against the rocks. My wife enjoyed lobster, while I had filet mignon, and we gobbled down the Parker House rolls. A chocolate brownie with ice cream topped off the evening with an edible “Happy Anniversary.” We also got some time to walk through the hotel to view the hand-painted murals on the ceilings and fresh flower creations. It was the perfect place to celebrate twenty-one years.
This morning I was totally out of sorts, having slept an hour-and-a-half longer than normal. In retirement, I’m certainly not on a time schedule, but my routine is typically like clockwork – awake at seven, walk the dog, exercise, 5k run, and write – all concluded by 9:30a. There was no Tally to wake me up and the black-out blinds hid the sunrise. I shortened my run to a little over a mile to make up for lost time, feeling guilty for oversleeping. “Does anybody really know what time it is?” I only had two martinis the night before, in defense. However, I didn’t sleep better -only longer – with too many annoying bathroom visits. I hope to visit the pool and get some sun after completing this daily post, while continuing to read A Woman of No Importance: The Untold Story of an American Spy who helped win World War II by Sonia Purnell. We’re eating homemade ham salad sandwiches the rest of this week and next to help make up for the $300 dinner bill. All for just a change of scenery!
We have arrived on Singer Island to celebrate our 21st anniversary. It was just about a three-and-a-half hour drive, marred only by a Diet Coke incident. We had just stopped at a McDonald’s, as is customary during travel, and switched drivers after a pee & purchase. My full Diet Coke was sitting in the cup holder as I made a mad dash onto the highway. It tipped over and landed in the passenger seat, soaking my wife’s dress in icy stickiness. Fortunately, she had a change of clothes in the trunk. I of course thought I might never hear the end of it, but after a brief outburst it was quickly forgotten.
We checked into the Marriott Vacation Club with minimal hassle and quickly settled into our room following a brief stop a the Marketplace for chocolate and chips, more necessary travel staples. They did not have our traditional chocolate-covered strawberries. I would have gotten another Diet Coke for the morning but sadly Marriott only serves Pepsi, their biggest flaw. We checked out the resort that includes several pools, Tiki bars, a playground, miniature golf, tennis, pickle ball, ping pong, billiards, and Cornhole. We also took a brief walk on the beach despite the gusty Atlantic winds. Our suite includes a full kitchen, washer/dryer, walk-out beachfront patio, two TVs, jacuzzi tub, and huge master bedroom. We will have a guest for one night and will make use of the sleeper sofa.
I did my run this morning in familiar surroundings. The half-way point was just about where we stayed last August in the second Marriott Vacation Club on this island. It was more of a high rise, while this one consists of seven separate buildings, each about 7-stories high with parking underneath. The amenities are similar, which is what we like about these Marriott properties. They think of everything so their are no surprises, but most importantly my wife is never disappointed. For us, it’s like a second home and Mother Marriott always takes care of us. We will be at more than a dozen other Marriott hotels over the next year including Panama City, Tuscaloosa, Nashville, Tampa, Kauai, Cleveland, Canton, Asheville, Hilton Head, and Phoenix.
Tonight, we’ll take an Uber over to Palm Beach for an anniversary dinner at The Breakers. I was at this exclusive resort for a convention years ago and can recall its elegance. It was founded in 1896 by Henry Flagler, and the steakhouse that bears his name is our choice to officially celebrate twenty-one years. Last night was the actual date but we settled for pot pie and Netflix. I read the poem and my wife soon fell asleep on the couch after a sleepless night, cross-Florida drive, and unexpected Diet Coke douche. The Breakers will host the Johnstons this evening as it has U.S. Presidents and European nobility along with famous names like Rockefeller, Vanderbilt, Astor, Carnegie. and Morgan. Breakers or Bust!
Twenty-one years of marriage on National Pot Day 4/20. We’re making the drive to Singer Island to celebrate this special occasion. Here is the poem I wrote in honor of my wife, a salute to the very first one I gifted her titled “De Feet, De Nose, De Toes” – long before I ever started penning this blog:
Deniseciation
Twenty-one Years,
Plus a few more.
You’re the one person,
I absolutely adore.
A fabulous cook,
With little credit.
“No appreciation,”
There, I’ve said it.
I’m not so good,
At compliments.
And even worse,
At common sense.
I don’t appreciate,
What I’ve got.
When it comes to you,
My wife is hot.
Beauty and class,
My silver fox.
I miss the cues,
When opportunity knocks.
I’m well fed,
And greatly loved.
But thanking you,
I’ve badly flubbed.
You’ve built us,
A beautiful nest.
And filled it with,
Only the best.
I’m a lucky man,
With you at my side.
My life’s best move,
Making you my bride.
Yet, I often don’t say,
“I appreciate you.”
And words of love,
Are long overdue.
You’re the Belle,
Of Islandwalk.
As the most desirable,
You’ve defied the clock.
Not just the block,
The whole universe.
All you’ve given me,
I’ve failed to reimburse.
I’m grumpy and gruff,
Not worthy of you.
And I’ve always had,
The better view.
From De Nose to De Toes,
De Best of Sweetie Pies.
I hope that you can see,
De Admiration in my eyes.
Deniseciation,
Is what I send.
I love you more,
The end.
Copyright 2022 johnstonwrites.com
The mortgage crisis occurred in 2008, once again confirming that we had paid too much for our Decatur home and resale would continue to be impossible. Rental would help cash flow but a broken water pipe flooded the walk-out level in the midst of winter. We had moved to Austin in May, but came back to the Midwest during the Holidays where we discovered this disaster. It was not the only time we had a water issue in this albatross that we once called home. Our Austin residence was a Congress Street apartment provided by the company. Eventually, we would pay for two more apartments, still hoping for a sale back in Illinois that would enable us to buy.
The Decatur property continued to be an issue for 13 more years, even though the half-price sale occurred in 2012. The home we bought in Florida a year ago has already increased in value more than that painful loss thankfully. It will hopefully be our last real estate investment in this lifetime. I’ve certainly learned some difficult lessons, considering all the bad deals I’ve made. Maybe I’ll be better prepared for the next time around, if there is one?
We’re two days from departure to Singer Island and the celebration of our 21st anniversary. I’m only 6-years away from breaking my previous marital record, as many of my peers are looking at 50-years together. This was the case with our weekend guests and the couple we’ll meet soon on the Atlantic coast. As for the two of us, we’ve reserved Flagler’s Steakhouse at The Breakers for our poem reading and toast to love.
With company in town, it’s been several days since I’ve contributed to this blog. I’ve been stuck on post number 2006 and events of that related life-year, as I shared memories with a hometown friend that has been around since grade school at Beardsley School 1962. He told me that the “Bombers” nickname was changed to “Bulldogs.” I was formerly a Rice “Krispie” before we moved to a new neighborhood. Rice was torn down years ago and Beardsley is in a new location. Everything has changed, even our High School lost its unique nickname. The “Blue Blazers” are now the “Lions.”
It’s “Matinee Monday” and “Patriot’s Day” but we can’t fit a movie into our busy schedule. I was pushed on my run this morning (more than a minute a mile faster) by a neighbor, as we talked about today’s Boston Marathon, something that he has run 15 times. I never qualified but ran the course one day when I was visiting another high school friend. I’m now sitting in my office watching the latest episode of “Winning Time.” I also won at Wordle this morning, after my first loss yesterday following 29-straight.
I have to correct my Amtrak reservation that I made last week. I needed a means to get from Portland to Vancouver BC this September where we’ll catch the Viking Cruise to Alaska/Japan. We always enjoyed the route into Seattle for ball games. As it turns out, the train trip included a leg by bus from Seattle to BC and my wife objected. Apparently, with border restrictions and limited schedules, the train no longer runs directly into the Vancouver station. Instead, we’ll use Alaska points to fly, fitting more closely with the rest of this luxurious adventure. After all, we’re flying First Class from Tampa to Portland and have a suite aboard the ship. She’s right, stop the bus?
It’s Easter weekend and Good Friday. As I reflect on the past, 2006 saw us living in Decatur, Illinois. We bought a home on Lake Decatur that was previously owned by the Andreas family that owned Archer Daniels Midland. In fact, the basement had a direct communications system to the corporate offices for work-at-home situations. The company brokered the first deal on wheat trade between the U.S. and Russia and was the subject of a Federal Investigation into price fixing and became the book and movie, The Informant, starring Matt Damon, who we got to meet during filming. I thought it was cool that Leonid Brezhnev had once visited our home, but the property was cursed for resale after ADM moved their corporate offices to Chicago and a glut of executive homes sat on the market for years. Selling that home was one of the greatest hassles of my life in a costly sense.
ADM was also responsible for the unpleasant odor that plagued the city, as I can recall saying “it stinks here!” I remember another businessman replying, “Oh, that’s the smell of money!” It was like the story about the Emperor’s Clothes, where no one wanted to admit that there was an embarrassing problem. I left there with a real estate albatross and without a job, so the memories of my time there weren’t all good. We did, however, make many good friends, most of which moved away once they got the chance. My wife and I may pass through there again this summer on our trip up to the Grand Hotel, to see those that are left behind.
One of my early friends from grade school and his wife are coming for the night. We met them for lunch about a month ago down in Ft. Myers after several years of separation. He lives in lower Michigan now, but owned a body shop in our home town of Elkhart, Indiana. They winter at Marco Island, and are stopping by on their way out of Florida. We’ll get a chance to catch-up further on a friendship that’s approaching 60-years. It will be a Good Friday!
I have about an hour to write before the storm called Nora passes through again. She is my nearly 4-year old grand daughter and a destructive force. Last night she broke the cool electronic balloon that I got for her and Tally’s food dispensing toy. I was able to fix the latter after she left, but spent about an hour collecting kibbles off the living room floor. She does not know what “NO” means and doesn’t listen anyways (I call her IgNORA.) This morning our house was filled with contractors, four at one time! They were in and out quickly while Tally was at the dog park. My wife just left for her Aqua-fit class but will be back to fix us all lunch, once Nora finally arrives.
I’m supposed to be enjoying bonding time with my little prodigy, but I’m not a patient baby sitter, while she’s a hand full. By the time of Saturday’s Easter Egg hunt, I will have spent four straight days with her after years of seeing her only once or twice a year. I’m also not feeling particularly great. In fact between the upset stomach and contractors, I only managed a miserable mile this morning (consecutive day #4,855) and did not swim. I did however, finally get in the shower that evaded me yesterday. Once again, it was baby sitting and contractors that moved me away from my normal routine. I was so out of sorts yesterday morning that I completely forgot about my chiropractor appointment and Borrego Boyz luncheon. They knocked on my door, wondering where I was?
I spent about an hour on the phone yesterday trying to resolve an issue with a water filter on our refrigerator, speaking of hassles. Apparently, I ordered the wrong part and it took five different Whirlpool employees in five different cities to finally order me the proper model number and credit my account for the return. They don’t even want it back and suggested that I donate it to charity. I then spent another half-hour online arranging for our flights to Kauai in December. I had finally found a reasonable fare just as our doorbell rang and it is was time to go to lunch, when my wife had just put lunch in front of me. I threw on some clean clothes and jumped in the awaiting car, still confused on why they were an hour early? Just another sign of getting old!
Both the Cubs and White Sox won last night and I succeeded at Wordle and Quordle this morning, so it’s shaping up to be a special day. I’m watching Curse of Oak Island where they are dealing with another curse in trying to uncover the Money Pit. It seems to be a constant state of affairs, as the show was aptly well named. Last night we saw another episode of Severance on Apple TV, after immersing ourselves in Van Gogh and gorging ourselves on steak and Chilean Sea Bass at Michaels on East. Today is much less eventful, keeping my eye out for warranty-work repairmen. Yesterday, they were up on the roof to patch some tiles that were apparently “overlooked” after the last inspection. A year ago tomorrow we officially moved-in after a night at a nearby Fairfield Suites. It’s hard to believe it’s already been a full year of being a Florida resident.
Back in late March of 2018, we were headed home from our Mediterranean Cruise when I wrote about Vincent van Gogh and his Starry, Starry, Night painting that was made into a song by Don McLean. Last night, we experienced his work as a digital video in larger than life form. It incorporated all of his paintings with the most appealing being Almond Blossom with pedals falling all around us. We, of course, bought a magnet to stick on our garage refrigerator to commemorate the occasion, joining hundreds from other world travels.
We’ll hopefully hang the outdoor entry light later this afternoon. It will match those on both sides of the garage door and complete our overhead lighting needs. We have then agreed to invest in some outdoor lighting both in front and back of the house that should be installed in the next month. We also looked at tile and stonework for the outdoor kitchen while awaiting delivery of parts. These will be the last two major projects for 2022, with extensive travel on the horizon. My son and grand daughter should be over this afternoon to start this work – she’ll probably be more disruptive than helpful!
