The Hunt for Red October

Hi friends,

So sorry, dear readers, for the break in posting as my brain has been numbed by the summer heat. Today I was outside trimming dead palm fronds, pulling weeds, and general yard clean-up, with sweat running down my face and off my head. People, it’s September 28th! The Milwaukee temperature at three pm? Sixty-seven degrees. Here in Safety Harbor? Eighty-seven degrees. It’s finally starting to cool down from our summer temperatures in the very high nineties. Yay, fall.

I love a northern autumn and October is my favorite month of the year. The gradual change in the temperature, the crisp low 60’s/high 50’s, wearing layers, a trip to the farm for fall vegies, caramel apples, and hayrides. Halloween and pumpkin carving! Most spectacularly, the leaves changing from green to vibrant yellows, oranges, and reds. It’s a feast for the eyes. It’s a celebration of a summer enjoyed and a herald of the holiday season to come. (We won’t discuss January through April right now). 

The leaves don’t change color in Florida. Based on my limited research it has to do with the level of chlorophyll, the amount of rain and the temperature, blah, blah, blah. I’m no botanist, so, please hit the google if you want more details. From my five years of observation here in Florida, it goes like this – green, brown, down – right into the pool. I don’t even have the joy of raking up a good pile of crunchy leaves, instead I have a “pool rake” that I use daily once the actual leaf fall begins…in January. 

I’ll pull out my October decorations. Colored leafy items, Halloween themed wall hangings, my skeleton and pumpkin candle holders. I’ll celebrate fall with sweat on my brow and leave my sweaters in the closet. I’ll look at all the posts of turning leaves on social media. I’ll stand under the A/C vent and feel the crisp seventy-eight-degree air. I’ll eat some apples with caramel sauce, but I won’t carve a pumpkin because it will rot in days. I will fake it in the south this year, and maybe next year I’ll make it north for a real red October.

Much love,

Paula

 

Waterworld

Hi friends,

I watered my plants this morning. The plants that survive on the least amount of water. Now it is pouring rain. Because I watered my drought tolerant plants this morning.

I grew up in a state with multiple water boundaries. Lake Michigan to the east, Lake Superior to the north and the Mississippi river on the western edge. I moved to a peninsula attached to a peninsula. Two blocks away (to the West) is Old Tampa Bay; nine miles away is the Gulf of Mexico. Water surrounds most of Pinellas County and certainly most of Florida. I thought I understood water.

In Wisconsin, the April showers brought the May flowers. Cold rainy days were the norm, and they brought the promise of springtime. During the summer sprinklers provided the gentle water needed to keep flower beds beautiful and lawns green. Water from the tap tasted good, it was cold and fresh (we won’t discuss that nasty cryptosporidium episode from years ago). Water wasn’t much of a thought; it was just there.

Water is so different in Florida. I’ve concluded that there are two realities – you have too much, or not enough. My morning watering is a case in point; it’s the rainy season and yet plants are wilting, almost melting and they need water now but of course, the forecast is for rain later. And then it doesn’t rain, so the next day you water those melting plants and the rain follows in intense bursts. It soaks all living things but doesn’t seem to soak into the ground. That last part takes some getting used to. Last year we went to buy some succulents for the front yard. It started to pour as we loaded them in Dan’s Ranchero, and poured all the way home. Two hours later the deluge stopped, and we went out to dig holes. The first spade full of sand came out of the hole—bone dry. 

And freshwater lakes? Despite what my sweet sister says, there is nothing lurking under the water in any Wisconsin lake that will stalk you and kill you. Here in Florida, if you are looking at freshwater, you are also looking at an alligator. You couldn’t pay me enough to jump into freshwater here. Let your dog loose near freshwater and then express shock when the dog goes down and never comes back. Why would you let your best canine friend swim in Alligator Lake? (This is a real place a few blocks away. It’s a man-made lake maybe 40 years old and full of alligators. Right before we moved here they banned teaching kids to waterski on the lake. And people complained! On our first visit to City Hall the clerk was telling us that people will come in and complain that they were throwing a ball for Fido and he never came back.) 

Can I get you a glass of water? Here Dan and I disagree, he’s okay with water out of the tap and to me, it has a nasty taste. I drink filtered water from the fridge, it’s the closest I can get to Milwaukee tap water.

And finally, the pool, something I insisted on when we moved to Florida. A backyard destination on a hot day, or for visiting family and friends on a cool winter day. I spend a lot of time…cleaning the pool…not so much swimming in it. That’s okay, I wanted it, but once again it’s either too much water or not enough. When it pours rain, and the pool tops off, it’s the perfect time to invite friends over to cannonball. When it evaporates I put in the hose and add more water; and then it rains buckets within 24-hours.

I’ve never thought so much about water as I do in Florida. 

Stay hydrated. Much love,

Paula

Gladiator

Hi friends,

My introduction to true exercise happened when I was 51. Prior to that I dabbled with tennis, the occasional painful jog and chasing kids around a playground. The idea of actually “working out” was anathema to me. It was painful and sometimes caused me to sweat. It began when Dan and I tried a resort dive in Mexico. Introduced to SCUBA I was determined to pursue a certification. Swim lessons with a trainer led to weight training, cardio training, spinning, 5k runs, several triathlons and a habit of hitting the gym 5 days a week. The gym Dan and I belonged to was awesome, the best equipment kept in fabulous shape. The spin room had 6 fans that kept the air moving. It was a great environment for a workout.

When we moved to Florida we looked around for gym options. They certainly did not meet the Wisconsin standard. There was the City of Largo fitness center, very affordable with limited equipment, and minimal access to a personal trainer. I thrive best with external accountability. When we moved to Safety Harbor we joined the Safety Harbor Resort and Spa. This got us access to the pools, weight room, cardio room and all the classes. Most often we were the youngest members there, lulled into slow motion activity by the comforting spa music best suited to a massage or facial. 

My employer opened an on-site fitness center and provided personal training. Thirty-minute sessions once per week busted my butt. I got a lot out of it, but then my job was eliminated. We tried a membership with Anytime Fitness. Then, on a Saturday in October, I was perusing vendors at the Fall Music Festival. There was an ice cream vendor I wanted to try, Hawaiian Honey Cones. It’s a U-shaped cookie tube filled with ice cream. Dan was volunteering as the festival’s ice delivery man, so I could indulge guilt-free.

As I meandered down the street I was approached by this very fit young woman who asked the question, “what do you do for exercise?” I swallowed my mouthful of deliciousness and said, we belong to a gym. She proceeded to tell me about a group fitness program that would shake things up and really get me moving. I listened, then replied that I’d have to discuss it with my husband (who I was sure would say no) – I’d stop back later. When I saw him later he said it sounded great and we should give it a trial run – 4 weeks, minimal cost. WHAAAAT!

I am now a gladiator. A member of Camp Gladiator that is. We meet with a friendly group of people in a church parking lot (hot black asphalt). We roll out our mats and sweat for the next hour. We work hard. We revel in the occasional breeze. There is no air-conditioning, this is an all-weather work-out. Funny enough, it’s almost harder to work out during the cooler months than the “feels like 150 degree” heat of a humid Florida evening.

We start with

• 10 inch worms
• 10 hip bridges
• 10 sit-ups or crunches

Then a lap of varying distances (shoot me now). 

Now we are ready for the “warm-up”, a series of exercise combinations that take us to a 20-minute mark. “Give me 30 hard count high knees, 20 shoulder taps, then 10 squats and keep doing that until I call time. Now give me …” 

On to the 40-minute exercise portion of the program which is always different and always a challenge. Depending on the theme of the week, the intensity with which I (temporarily) despise the trainer varies. And never ask me about “fight club”; we are not allowed to discuss that. 

So, lessons learned? It’s never too late to start. Exercise friends are great friends. I can do more than I think I can. Hydrate. I won’t melt in the heat; it just feels like it. Find it, do it. And best of all, I can walk away knowing I beat the lion in the coliseum.

Stay safe and healthy. Much love,

Paula

 

The Money Pit

Hi Friends,

As I'm sure you are all aware, the real-estate market is absolutely crazy right now. Articles abound on NPR and other news sources about how to manage through the housing shortage and avoid huge financial mistakes. A house for sale in our neighborhood went on the market and in one weekend had 57 viewing appointments, 17 offers and sold for $40,000+ over asking. (This from a postcard sent to us by the realtor who offered the house.) The neighbors were astounded by the traffic that weekend, all to look at a nice, but fairly unremarkable house.

While we love our unremarkable house, it did take a little getting used to. It was not unusual, especially when our crab apple tree was in bloom, to have photographers with tripods taking pictures of our Queen Ann up north. A local PBS special on our old hometown used a picture of our house as their advertisement--we have a screenshot of it somewhere. But that was then. Take down our snowblower mailbox and our unremarkable house slides into the background. 

Now there is another house for sale, just down the block on our street. It was previously owned by someone who had inherited it from his mom. In fairness, no matter how shabby he looked when he rode by on his bike, he said hi to our dog Molly and said what a good looking dog she was. Unfortunately there were so many liens against the house and for various other reasons, he had to sell. That's when a woman from Wisconsin spoke to the city and said if they'd remove the liens, she would buy it for $90,000 and fix it up. The city council was more than happy to make this deal.

Fast forward to today. No work was ever done. But here's the listing:

"Ready to live in charming Safety Harbor? What is it they say? Location! Location! Location! This one's got it covered. What a great opportunity to own a property in a location just steps away from Tampa Bay in a desired area sprinkled by new homes and remodeled cuties. This property is just bursting with potential! It has solid concrete block walls with full terrazzo floor and an interior down to the studs. Plan it out the way you want. Buff up the terrazzo and watch it shine! Design a kitchen with the cabinets that you want including an oversized farm sink or stone counters. Open up the space between the living room and the kitchen with a pass through or center island. Also, consider a second bathroom off one of the bedrooms by opening up a door into the large utility room that could be modified into your second bathroom. Don't forget the large, private backyard. This would be great place to relax in a screened enclosed deck or a patio with a beautiful garden. Imagine the possibilities! You pick the paint, you pick the fixtures, & you do it the way you want. End result- a great property close to downtown Safety Harbor with all of its shops and restaurants, the spa in the marina, as well as hike/bike paths on North Bayshore that start down on Gulf to Bay & the causeway leading all the way up to historical Philippi Park. Safety Harbor offers special downtown events, live music, a fishing pier, kayak & bike rentals, nature parks, exercise trails, and more! Cash only offers please."

In sales, there's an old saying--sell the sizzle. All yours for just $249,000 in cash! Let me take a shot at a more accurate listing:

Looking for a cement block box that has no hope of being financed by a bank that doesn't have "de Columbia" somewhere in the name? Well, step right up! This block on slab home shows very little signs of water damage--since it hasn't had a working bathroom in years! The lack of noise caused by the lack of pesky central air will allow you to more clearly hear the wildlife that has made their home through multiple intrusions into soffits and attic. Sure, the cheap plexiglass windows are cracked and yellowed, but that bonus ventilation allows more pure fresh Florida air inside to flush what may have been the crack fire that may have lit the previous owner's head on fire. (Come on folks--you can't believe everything in a police report.) Ready to step outside? You can't have a backyard this lush, this green, without CONSTANT FERTILIZATION! Say what you want about the homeless, but those people know how to poop and pee in a yard (fancy folks call it nightshade)!

$249,000. That's quite a flip for doing absolutely nothing. 

Now, we don't live in one of the ubiquitous HOAs (Home Owners Association). Neither Dan nor I have any desire to pay a monthly fee to have our exterior design choices governed by power crazed neighbors. Our neighborhood is eclectic, and we like it. A block away is a trailer park. Two blocks away is new construction on the bay that ranges in value between $750,000 to over one million. And it sells. We live on a street with reasonably sized old Florida ranches, cozy homes that are not ostentatious. Maybe our unremarkable house is a million-dollar gold mine. But if we sold, we couldn't afford to buy.

Be sane and be safe friends. Much love,

Paula

Get Out

Hi friends. 

When I last connected with you via CastletotheKeys, I had finished the thought process and actual move to sunny Florida. It’s been just over five years and I’ve learned quite a bit about myself and our new home.

So, how do I fit here in the south with my northern sensibility? Pretty well I think, having found great friends, good food and fun times. I’ve reconnected with cousins who live in the area. Dan and I bought a cute house in a lovely little city called Safety Harbor. We are just east of Clearwater and a short distance to the Tampa airport, allowing for easy travel to and from our home. Overall, we are pleased with our soft landing.

Along comes Covid. And we’re living here in Florida with, let’s face it, a governor who is not the brightest science-based thinker. Masked up and wary of grocery stores, friends and family soldiered on. In the midst of this Dan landed a good job in Clearwater, one that played to his core strength of customer service and conflict resolution. I had left my full-time job of 3-years after a reorganization. After initially looking for work I decided the safest place was at home, so reading book after book became my new pastime. We also adopted a really beat-up rescue Doberman who needed full-time attention and love, so win-win.

The government ponied up the first stimulus which we put to good use. Same with the second, a beautiful new front door. When the third arrived we discussed options and decided to channel Dan’s grandparents Ray and Alma, who believed that money should be given away when the sender can appreciate the joy of the recipient. Checks were sent to both of our boys.

Our oldest son and his wife have contemplated some new furniture – decisions yet to be made. Our youngest sent me a thank-you note and said he and his roommates were looking forward to a “coke and strippers” party. I think he meant Coca-Cola and chicken strips.

Fast forward. I get a call, “Mom, thanks so much for the stimulus money! I bought some Dogecoin at .05 and now it’s over .40! I’ve made thousands of dollars!” And the only thought I had was purely a northern (and Midwest) response – GET OUT! Take the money and RUN. What are you thinking? We are not a gambling family! Just GET OUT!

Now, I’m not saying that Southerners take more risks, buy hey, Florida man. There are published books and articles that back me up on this. No one in our family has ever been injured after saying “hey y’all, watch this.” I didn’t check myself at the border, but now I’ll be checking my reactions and reporting back to all y’all.

Stay safe. Much love,

Paula