Tally got to spend time with her schnauzer brothers yesterday, returning home clean and well-groomed. She did not get to go to my oldest granddaughter’s birthday party because she still growls at little kids. This dates back to an incident years ago when a little girl screamed at her in fear – although unprovoked. Since that time, she been leery of little ones and has yet to befriend my youngest granddaughter. We end up locking her in the bedroom when she comes to visit. Hopefully, this behavior will eventually stop. Tally also growled at the sand cranes this morning, but they probably deserved it.

It’s time for another Indy 500 that I plan to watch this year from the comfort of my living room. I still recall all those years of getting up early on race day and fighting the traffic. During that timeframe, it was blacked out on TV, so as a result radio became my favorite way to follow the event. The race became the backdrop for home improvement projects like painting and building decks. Last year, the much anticipated start didn’t happen until August because of Covid, so the month of May was also not the same. In 2019 we were in Walla-Walla for the first time and in 2018 we were on our way to Oregon wine country while the race was underway. The early morning West Coast start never seemed to put me in front of the TV for the race, but the move to Florida has me back in sync with the traditional singing of “Back Home Again in Indiana” and the call to “Start Your Engines.”

This year’s Memorial Weekend project is more boxes to unpack and pictures to hang. Both cars are now back in the garage, as the “Box Score” nears ten. My wife planted her lanai garden yesterday, so things are really coming into shape. My son is due to come over so we can handle some of the heavier items that need to be organized. We did go to the fireworks last night, but the evening did not go as planned. There’s a meeting tonight to discuss our finances that we are clearly not in agreement about. She and Tally are at the dog park doing their morning routine while I wrap up this last post of the 1600s and move to number 1700, another milestone in this 5-year retirement blog.

The “Box Score” is now down to a manageable fifteen. My car is back from the body shop, so I’m trying to make room for it in the garage, as we continue to unpack, organize, and hang. Dumpster dumping will resume again once it gets dark. Tonight are the Memorial Weekend fireworks at the neighborhood stadium. It will truly represent the land of the free and the home of the (Atlanta) Braves that will have limited seating capacity. We were unable to get tickets but our plan is to do a carnic in the parking lot of wine & fried chicken and watch the festivities from there, although the aerials will easily be visible from our home that’s about a mile away. 

A carnic, of course, is a picnic in the car. In my teen days it was known as “parking,” but my wife insists on packing a basket with food. We don’t even need to tailgate, just put the top down and watch the overhead fireworks show. Our schnauzer Tally will probably hide in the closet at home. It’s not a good night for dogs, but a favorite for my wife. (See Post #585). I’ve tried to keep a log of all our experiences with fireworks, but the last few years have seen cancellations due to forest fires and Covid, so Cinderella’s Castle at Disneyworld was our last recorded viewing about a year-and-a-half ago. It will be good to add our 46th explosive event to the list tonight. 

A special thanks to all those who serve our country and especially those those who have given their lives. It’s been a particularly tough year for law enforcement, so I will keep them in my thoughts this Memorial Weekend, as well – glad to have distanced myself from the nightly unrest in Portland. Personally,  I’ve done nothing but reap the benefits of freedom, as my charmed life has me now living the retirement dream in a new Florida home. However, I feel for those who are less fortunate. We kicked off the weekend with a sunset dinner at the Crow’s Nest last night and are looking  forward to tonight’s carnic. 

Life was back to normal yesterday with the Cubs and Sox losing. We went to one of the community pools and spent some time talking to a neighbor we met at the block party last weekend. A child’s birthday party made it noisy and the water was discouraging chilly for being heated, but in my wife’s opinion not as cold as ours. I’m the only one that really gets in it for my morning swim to loosen up from the run. She’s not getting much use out of her pool toys, as the inflatable unicorn spent another lonely afternoon. Our schnauzer Tally will tolerate it as long as it’s not floating in the water. She did have a bit of a fit when the sand cranes showed up and started to strut around in the neighbors back yard pleading for food.

This morning Tally did not seem threatened by the kitty next door, as they peacefully coexisted in their separate lanai cages. My wife went back to bed after announcing she has a slight fever in reaction to the much anticipated second vaccine shot yesterday. We were up most of the night after the smoke alarms went off about 1:30a, three weeks after the first time they rudely awakened us (See Post #1666). They were all replaced by an electrician the next day, but at least this time I had a ladder and was able to remove the batteries and disable the power. Tally is still very upset about the ear piercing noise and electronic voice repeating “fire” that echoes throughout our empty house. I will get someone over here next week to uncover the annoying problem, as we continue to find issues with our new construction.

We are attending a 3rd birthday party this afternoon for my youngest granddaughter. It’s a tea party theme, so we bought her the Disney Beauty and the Beast serving tray on wheels. It features the Mrs. Potts bubbling teapot and a talking Lumiere. We’ll all sing “Be Our Guest” in addition to the birthday song to celebrate this special occasion. It will be the first time I’ve got to go to a grandchild’s birthday party, another benefit of our move to Florida.

“Be our guest! Be our guest!
Put our service to the test
Tie your napkin ’round your neck, cherie
And we’ll provide the rest.”

Last night was the neighborhood get-together and our first encounter with many of the folks on our block. We call ourselves the Borrego Bunch or Borregorians after our Borrego Street addresses. I’m surprised by the number of New Jersey settlers, since my understanding was that the East Coast people  migrated to the Atlantic side of Florida while the Midwesterners claimed the Gulf. There were at least three couples from Jersey, with New York, Wisconsin, and Minnesota also represented. No one else from Indiana or the West Coast. I think that fourteen homes on our block were in attendance as we simply gathered in a driveway and spilled out on the street. The majority retired – one single woman. Some walked and others arrived on golf carts. It was BYOB. Name tags might have been helpful.

I met some Ohio State fans, as well as Steeler, Red Sox, Patriots, and Viking supporters. Most are newcomers to Florida, and with many homes still under construction on our street there will be many more get-togethers in our first year. One couple lives in the spec home, so they would have been first to stake a claim, but most have put down roots here for just a few months at the most. This gives us an opportunity to meet people before they have established strong friendships. However, there are also several part-timers who have second homes elsewhere. They will come and go. 

It’s very different than living in an apartment where neighbors are heard more than seen. I wrote about this in Post #1345. There’s no more heavy feet above us, but an occasional intrusion of outdoor privacy. All of us now have screened-in lanais and some have backyard pools that are packed too close together.  You want to be friendly but respect your neighbor’s space. Besides this block party, our dogs introduce us to each other, so Dusty, Sherlock, Tito, and Zowie have already gotten to know our schnauzer Tally. She roams the backyard cage and keeps an eye out for intruders, whether they be human, insect, or animal. It’s the exact opposite of the confined lifestyle of an apartment, but we’ve yet to find comfort without our furniture. Hey Neighbor – can we borrow a chair?

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.