Our black schnauzer Tally gets her first Florida haircut today after yesterday’s romp on the beach. Actually, it was one of our most disorganized, shortest excursions yet. The first thing that happened was I got stopped for speeding on the way there – 40 in a 30. The woman cop was very forgiving and let us off with a simple warning. Welcome to Venice! When we finally arrived at the parking lot we discovered that we left our beach (Fry) chairs back at the house, so it wasn’t really much of a Fry Day. Shaggy Tally was hot, searching for shade we couldn’t provide, so she laid under a towel. The spray can of suntan lotion also failed to work, so we had little UV protection, further reducing our interest in staying for long. Fortunately, with the top down we were at least able to get some sun on the way there and back. Tally got down on the floor and took advantage of the air conditioning. She’s not quite yet a Florida dog, but hopefully a shorter cut will help her deal with the heat.
There was not much of a sunset at Fins last night with a low cloud cover spoiling the view. It was beautiful though looking out over the Gulf, after fighting for a parking spot. Our friends were delayed by Friday afternoon traffic getting down I-75. I think they are appreciative of where they chose to live in Tucson where traffic jams are few. It was good to see them again after a full year of pandemic isolation. We were with them in Phoenix last March when everything shut down, including the Spring Training games we were supposed to attend. It was one of the last times that restaurants were fully open and masks were yet the fashion. Here in Florida, I’d say that probably only 25% of the people use them. We wore ours out of habit to enter the restaurant last night, but not at the table.
At the other extreme, back in Portland, where our furniture continues to sit, restaurants have once again been shut down. The contrast between the two states in Covid management is remarkable. The Florida economy appears to be vibrant, but perhaps the liberal mask policies and social distancing restrictions are too loose. Portland also continues to struggle with ugly protests and mayoral death threats as I see on my Facebook feeds. I hope someone is able to rescue our furniture before it somehow gets destroyed. I’m glad to be away from the chaos that threatens what was once a great city. We just need to finish the move!
There are just too many 6’s in today’s post – #1666- indicative of last night’s new home trauma. Sometime in the middle of the night, the smoke alarms went off, echoing throughout the walls of our empty rooms. With no furniture – trauma in and of itself – there was nothing to cushion to sound. Our schnauzer Tally ran for cover. I went to the electrical box hoping to find a switch to temporarily disable the detectors. The master bedroom circuit seemed like my best bet, but it didn’t do the job, as shrieks of sound and fire warnings continued to reverberate around me. Tally tried the front bedroom and waited by the front door for relief. The noise must have been overpowering for her sensitive ears. To make matters worse, my wife left her in the car for a few minutes this morning to pick-up the mail and the car alarm inexplicably went off. Poor pup! For me, it’s good to be partially deaf.
I tried calling the 24-hour hotline for assistance, but the woman on duty insisted that it was not on her list of dire emergencies and we’d have to wait until morning. I pleaded that we couldn’t sleep and the dog was traumatized, but nothing could be done from her perspective. She suggested I call the fire department, but I did not want to dial 911. Of course, I got no answer. Under normal circumstances I would have gotten my ladder and climbed to the 12-foot heights where the detector was located and disabled the culprit. However, our ladder is packed away in a Portland warehouse still awaiting a delivery driver. I searched through all the warranty information that they left me, once again without a solution. The noise stopped for awhile – and then restarted. So, I called the hotline back. In the meantime, the shrieking stopped again but an annoying red light flashed across our bedroom ceiling. I thought I would never get back to sleep or get our pup calmed down.
This morning I’m on the phone to electrical contractors and the builder trying to resolve the problem. At first, they indicated a two-week wait to get a service appointment, but are currently trying to find someone working in our neighborhood. Certainly, with homes going up all around us, someone will come to our aid. I still don’t understand why shutting off the power didn’t work – maybe they mislabeled the electrical panel? So here we sit helplessly in a new house, with no furniture, and flashing red lights. The alarm could come back on at any minute and no one would hear our screams. It’s alarming!
While I can certainly use an adjustment on my aching back, the biggest factor is getting used to a new way of life. We’ve come from a tiny Portland apartment crammed with furniture to a spacious home with none. The neighbors are actually further away but seem very close. It was rare when I ran into them each day in the halls and lobby, but now I actually see them out and about in their yards or garages. Some are open and friendly but most prefer to keep their distance. We each have our own routines and we’re now simply a disruption to their lives. Construction goes on around us but the neighborhood is relatively quiet, unlike the noisy hectic streets of Portland where our sleep was often interrupted with early morning garbage collection, busy restaurants, and busses.
We took on the three grandkids yesterday – a major adjustment in our lives. It was an exhausting endeavor with each of us getting used to the other. We swam in our pool for awhile and then went to the warmer clubhouse setting. Noodles were flailed and warnings issued. We were the only family with kids, but fortunately the kiddos were mostly well behaved. My wife then took the soon to be 3-year old to the playground where she proceeded to show-off her daring self. Finally, it was pizza shared in our empty living room where even a chair is hard to find. We were more than ready for their dad to pick them up, so we could once again return to our peaceful existence. Our dog was kept locked in the bedroom, not quite ready to deal with the trio of new faces.
It was another restless night, each of us with our aches and pains, trying to get used to a new bed and TV that somehow turned itself back on in the middle of the night. Everything is strange, but mostly the hollow echo of an empty house. Voices ricochet off the walls, plus it’s difficult to get comfortable. Hopefully, we’ll get a status update next week on our belongings – still stuck in the Portland warehouse. Today is be nice to Tally day, so maybe another trip to the dog beach is in order – anything to distract from the unsettling feelings of being separated from your stuff. Tally surely misses her chair to curl up in, the familiarity of the apartment, and the cozy feeling of rugs to stretch out on rather than cold, hard tile floors. All in all, our Florida lives are now just one big adjustment.
Some might celebrate today as national Pot Day, but for us it’s twenty years of marriage. 20 years on the 20th – the only time this will ever happen – another reason to mark the occasion. The last month, however, has not been easy with packing, loading, closing on a new house, kidney stone pain, driving 3,500 miles, and the most recent stress of not having our possessions. The chandelier that we bought to honor our china anniversary is somewhere in a warehouse. The purchase was a far cry from our original plan of traveling to China. Only domestic excursions have been possible during this year-long pandemic.
Here we are in Venice, Florida with a new bed after six restless nights of sleeping on the inflatable. My back feels better already. At least we’re done with hauling our bulky, heavy luggage and boxes in and out of hotel obstacle courses consisting of stairways, elevators, and parking valets. Portland, Ogden, Burlington and St. Louis were all overnight hotel stays, followed by five nights in Indy with my wife’s sister and her family from Indianapolis to Atlanta. This provided the opportunity to rest from out-patient surgery and the insertion of a stint. We also got a little more time to visit with friends since we weren’t rushing to beat the moving company. They have yet to find a plan to get our things to us – and we’re getting nervous.
Tally watched me swim this morning. Hopefully, the drier, sunny weather will keep her feet from smelling like Frito’s Corn Chips (scientifically known as Brevibacterium) thanks to the dampness of seven years in Portland. All of us are done with long car rides and fast food stops, with plans to stay home as much as possible, despite the relatively empty living space. I wrote this poem as a tribute to our cross-country journey and twenty years of marriage that started with an impromptu date at Eddy’s restaurant. There were no sticks, stones, or broken bones – just stints and kidney stones.
Stints and Stones
Twenty-years of marriage,
Went by in a snap.
But these last few weeks,
Have been full of crap.
Paperwork to sign,
Notary to hire.
The woman I love,
To further admire.
Boxing and loading,
Took its toll.
Venice, Florida,
Our retirement goal.
I got new shoes,
Packed by mistake.
And ear buds once lost.
As your back began to ache.
A chandelier not China,
Our anniversary treat.
Anxious to leave rain,
For sunshine and heat.
Little did we know,
That all that we own.
Would sit in Portland,
For how long? – unknown.
From kidney stones,
To our missing stuff.
Crossing the country,
Was more than rough.
Though not like the Donners,
We had Freddy’s to eat.
McDonald’s and Arby’s,
Tally’s Frito Feet.
She was a trooper,
Bored with the ride.
Anxious for stops,
And to go outside.
First night Ogden,
Second Burlington.
Where hospital visits
Had just begun.
Closing by mail,
But no close Chase.
Six-hour drive,
Open Kansas space.
St. Louis stairs,
Atlanta even more.
Cumbersome carryalls,
And baggage galore.
Missed out on Amanda,
But found some “green.”
As we checked out,
The Hot-lanta scene.
In-between surgery,
Debsie’s to heal.
Meeting with Susan,
MZD gals meal.
Cole’s 3rd birthday,
He meets his GUM.
Murphy’s tenderloin,
Tom gets me numb.
French Lick puzzle,
Stint for a stone.
A custom home,
Now ours to own.
Together with Peter,
Elliott and Berry.
Tally found this adventure,
To be quite scary.
From Nampa thru Tampa,
The Solara led the way.
Memories of Eddy’s,
That flashback in play.
Who would have guessed,
Where this would all lead?
As we picked up our “keys,”
And the Warranty Deed.
Happy 20th Sweetie Pie,
A kiss on the threshold.
I’ll love you forever,
It will never grow old!
Copyright 2021 johnstonwrites.com
Trash Day is back after 18-months in an apartment with a chute and no set pick-up. Early in retirement I stopped using the traditional days of the week and began to name them by activity. Trash Day originally became the start of the week, replacing Monday. (See Post #987). Bins went out on Sunday nights, as will be the case going forward here in Florida. Our three containers were delivered this morning, after I stealthily added my trash to the neighbors under the cover of darkness last night. The service is part of my HOA fees instead of a separate bill, saving about $35 a month. I also get basic cable service, lawn care, activities, and recreational facilities for my monthly dues. This includes two heated pools, fitness center, dog park, gated security, pickleball/tennis courts, and common areas. It’s like living at a luxury resort.
This morning I ran the neighborhood streets and did a few laps in my private pool. Our schnauzer Tally has taken a liking to the screened-in outdoor space out back. Our new bed is being delivered this morning that will hopefully help with my aching back from sleeping on an inflatable. This will eventually go in the guest room if our possessions ever arrive from Portland. Right now they are three days past due and still in the mover’s warehouse awaiting a driver. In the meantime, we are improvising or buying fill-in items to serve as places to sit or eat. The folding chairs are getting more and more uncomfortable.
Tomorrow is our 20th wedding anniversary so I will post a poem about our trials and tribulations in getting to this Florida forever home. We also have reservations at a popular local restaurant called Fins for a sunset view and celebration of love. Hopefully, I won’t have to listen to another rendition of Margaritaville, although certainly appropriate of the setting. It sure beats Cooking Night where I stumble around in the kitchen trying to make dinner. With this in mind, three days of the retirement week have already been established in this new lifestyle – Beach Day, Cooking Day and Trash Day.
This is the second time that I selected “Life’s A Beach” as a title for one of my silly blogs (See #1573). In fact, it was the last time I wrote one from Florida, as we were checking on the construction of our new home. Here we are again – months later- with the same sunny thought in mind. Back then, we did go to the beach but our backyard lanai and pool were just starting to take shape. This is the first week of enjoying all the hard work that’s taken place since we decided on Florida as our forever home.
We spent this morning at the dog beach – a furry of activity! This afternoon it’s relaxing by the pool. I think I just might like this new Florida lifestyle. Last night, we made a repeat visit to Dockside for seafood chowder, crab cakes, shrimp, and key-lime pie. The musician was not too loud and the marina view was awesome. However, please don’t play “Wasted Away Again In Margaritaville” again. We can also now get in and out of our gated community without having to check-in with the guard. It’s already a memorable first weekend in Venice.
My son has been over several times to help hang the few items we had sent here. All of our mail has been forwarded but inconveniently none of our stuff. Our possessions sit in the Portland warehouse awaiting a driver. We bought a bed yesterday after nearly a week of sleeping on the inflatable. My wife also purchased some pool furniture so we would have a few more places to sit besides two folding chairs. A fry daddy, and a cushioned bench that serves as a drop zone for pet and running supplies. These new additions to the house will be delivered in the next few days. We’re missing our clothes, valuables, oriental rugs, electronics, furniture, artwork, cooking supplies, utensils, and collectables. Improvisation is the current state of affairs.
Rain is in the forecast but so far we’ve been greeted with nothing but sunshine. Tally is enjoying the lanai and had a good time at the beach. We’ve left her alone on a few occasions, adapting slowly to the new surroundings. The peaceful sounds of a fountain and the birds have replaced the noisiness of downtown Portland. Today will be my first day in well over a year to go entirely mask-less. We did don them for dinner last night, but it’s easier to maintain safe social distancing unlike our former apartment building. The suntan lines on my face from the mask will soon disappear. I guess I can’t state it enough -Life’s A Beach!
Our schnauzer pup Tally is not fond of the tough southern fauna, as opposed to the soft Oregon grass where she’s used to doing her business. The blades are thick and pokey in Florida, so it will take some getting used to in our move. We did finally arrive in Venice with no further delays. I thought of many things that could go wrong on our cross-country journey but never once kidney boulders. To be honest, I did imagine car break-downs, accidents, speeding tickets, flat tires, credit card problems, theft, and even snow. However, we were lucky to avoid them all.
There were many scary moments of pain for my wife along the way, but one funny story emerged from the adventure. She innocently asked the parking valet at our downtown Atlanta hotel last night where she could find some “green.” She of course meant a grassy area for Tally to pee, seeing nothing but asphalt and concrete surrounding us. He noticed our Oregon license plates and commented, “you have access to the good stuff back home, but I can hook-you-up if you want.” She chuckled and didn’t know quite what to say, but clarified by asking for directions to the nearest park. Far from what he was thinking! I did see that same valet later that evening sharing a joint with a buddy down the street. I guess we’re lucky to have been reunited with our car this morning, worried that he might have rummaged through the dirty laundry bags in the trunk looking for our stash. After all, we were looking for grass!
Tally is still looking for the “green,” scared by the loud clomping sounds of a horse pulling passengers along the brick street in front of our hotel last night. She was absolutely petrified! She then refused to lift a leg, tugging frantically on the leash to get inside and away from the scary downtown noises. I eventually had to lift her up into an elevated planter so she could ultimately do her business. She’s a worried puppy thirteen states from home and confused about the long car rides that used to be fun. Tomorrow, we’ll get her settled into a new home, but it will take some time to adapt, especially in anticipation of the further disruption associated with unpacking and new faces. Hopefully, she’ll find green pastures again!
We’re about to cross the Georgia-Florida line, as my wife takes over the driving responsibilities. It looks certain that we’ll arrive in Venice before our stuff, delayed because of the unavailability of drivers. North American Van Lines faces monetary penalties for not delivering according to the contract, while we will undoubtedly spend the first nights on our inflatable bed. Is this too all Covid related? Fortunately, we had the foresight to bring the blow-up on our last Florida flight a few months ago. It was the last live look at the construction progress that has since been solely through Facetime or photos. Tomorrow we move in!
Our schnauzer Tally does not yet realize that this will be her last full day in the car. Last night was an absolute hassle, staying at the downtown Residence Inn. We tried yo get a dog-friendly hotel near the home of my wife’s niece. With our ER and medical delays, we arrived at a time that interfered with her evening Asian conference call, so she was unavailable to visit. We spent most of our hotel stay arranging for valet parking and hauling our valuables up to the 20th floor. First, we had to navigate the uneven brick sidewalk and then lug our numerous boxes and bags up a set of stairs to get to the elevator. All this coupled with Tally’s dog bed and overnight supplies. Mother Marriott should have been paying us rather than an outrageous $100 pet charge and $50 for parking, plus tips for very little help. Hardly – dog friendly or even handicap compliant.
We won’t get to our new Venice address until after the gates are locked this evening and the office where we pick-up our keys was closed. This means another night in a hotel with more luggage hauling and pet fees, not to mention forking out inflated Spring Break rates for the crappy room. The bath towels will probably be like tattered sweat rags, and the neighboring Cracker Barrel will have to suffice for take-out since dogs are not allowed. The good news is that this is one Florida vacation where we will never make the return drive. Yes Tally – the dog days of long distance travel will soon be over!
Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, and Florida are the last 5 states on our 13-state cross-country journey that started in Oregon. Atlanta, Georgia is tonight’s goal, as Tally continues to wonder where we are going? She looks content in the back seat bed, but it’s really boredom. She isn’t getting her long walks and has so little room to stretch. Occasionally, she’ll ride on my wife’s lap. We drive in 3-hour shifts between food and gas stops, putting more and more miles in the rearview mirror. This is her first day of not experiencing pain, following the kidney stone surgery in Indianapolis. I’m sure that’s a huge relief for her.
We continue to look forward to seeing our new home and addressing any unfinished business. At least two more nights of hotel living now stand in the way. We can pick up the keys on Wednesday morning, but still have now idea where are possessions are sitting. Presumably, they are still in the Portland warehouse awaiting a driver. At least, it’s not a frantic race to the finish line. We might even have a few days to get organized before the unpacking process begins. Plus, it’s another blue sky day for driving.
I got to visit with all my Indy friends and enjoy time with my wife’s family. They were very gracious about our extended stay, giving two sisters a chance to catch-up after almost two years of separation. It also gave me a chance to play my newest role of GUM -Great Uncle Mike. It was a good visit for all of us -long overdue. Back home again in Indiana with Georgia on my Mind.
After meeting my two great nephews yesterday, I found myself with a new nickname – GUM – Great Uncle Mike. The youngest of the two took right to me, sticking to me like gum and comfortably crawling into my arms. This is not usually the case for me with young children. I’m usually more scared of them than they are of me. However, Carter is my new buddy. Maybe, when I get settled in Florida in a few weeks, I can become a good grandfather? It was a step in the right direction – double bubble delight.
Yesterday was a welcome day of rest for all of us weary travelers. My wife had to cancel her lunch plans with friends because of a doctor appointment, but other than that the day was all about dogs and children for her. I got all our new home utilities in order and enjoyed the outside weather. Today, we’re getting some Indiana rain, reminiscent of Portland. Tally and I will spend the afternoon in our favorite bar, waiting for my wife’s surgery to be completed. Hopefully, a couple friends will join me at our outside table. Poor Tally is afraid of little kids and has to deal with a cantankerous cousin pup at my wife’s sister’s house. She has spent most of her time on a leash, but surely better than being stuck in the car all day. She’ll hopefully be right at home in the bar with me.
My list of things to do for the move is growing shorter. The next big step is to change my credit card billing addresses now that we officially have a home. The remainder of the cross-country drive is on hold depending on any complications from the surgery. We still plan to meet with more of my wife’s relatives in Atlanta and hear all about my twin great nieces in Jacksonville, Florida who will someday also call me GUM. I have great nephews and nieces in both Indiana and Florida, as well those on the Ban(n)ister sides of my double life as an adoptee. Come to GUM!
