As is typical of springtime everywhere, we have the temperature fluctuations on a daily basis. The mornings start out cool, and for the most part the temperatures climb a good 20 degrees during the day. The key, of course, is at what temperature the day begins. Yesterday was a beautiful day with temperatures in the high 70s while today the best we can hope for is the low 60s. Tomorrow is supposed to be even cooler, but this still beats the teens and 20s that our loved ones are dealing with in Wisconsin.
Yesterday after working even more on the walls in the laundry room, I persuaded Rick to go for a bike ride with me. A bike ride... on February 28. To our Wisconsin minds, that is surreal. The day, as mentioned before, was in the 70s, and the sun was shining. After pumping up tires and getting on the shoes and helmets, we were off. The neighborhood streets were almost deserted, so the ride to the trail .6 miles from our house went well. We were surprised to see the number of people walking or biking on the trail, and since we headed south, we were further surprised with the number of people milling about the downtown area at 2:00 in the afternoon. Oh, yeah, that's right. We are not the only retired people in Dunedin. We went as far south as the sign to the library, and we actually contemplated riding over a block and visiting it. Unfortunately, we did not have any way of locking the bikes up while we went inside, and we were not about to leave the trikes unattended, so we turned around and headed for home. We now know that round-trip to the library is about 6 miles. In the future, if that is our destination, we'll figure out how to take locks along.
We made one short stop at Weaver Park on the way home, perhaps staying a bit too long because we encountered school traffic by the time we arrived home. However, the experience was worth it because it felt so good to ride again. The endorphins were flowing from the fresh air, the sunshine, and the exercise. As the late John Denver would have said, "Faaaaar out!"
Another indication of springtime is the amount of tender vegetable plants and flowers available at places like Lowe's or Home Depot. Apparently if one wants a garden in Florida, one visits the big box stores for most plants. The few nurseries we have found carry bushes and trees, but most people just buy plants and flowers at a big box store. (However, my sister-in-law Chris found a great little pineapple plant at the local Ace Hardware store. Go figure!)
Although our yard is barren of most plants and trees (check back in about three years), we are treated to springtime each day by just looking next door. Michelle has three five-foot azalea bushes on the north side of her house (facing us), and those bushes are in full bloom. In the morning, through the frosted glass of our bathroom windows, I can see this explosion of pink.
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| One of three pink azaleas that greet our eyes each morning. |
The azaleas are gorgeous, as is the bougainvillea this time of year. Someday, I hope to have both in our backyard along with several hibiscus and other varieties of plants and flowers. The tricky part is that to keep something alive down here, the plants have to be "established" and that generally takes a year of several-times-a-week watering. That lack of having the ability to water when we are in Wisconsin is what prevented us from planting a tree in January. Water inside the house is always a problem, but lack of water outside of the house also can become a headache.
A final indication of springtime, at least to our Wisconsin minds, is seeing rummage sales. A couple of weeks ago, our neighbor across the street, Missy, had a sale. This morning when we got up, we saw that Pat, our neighbor to the north, was setting up a sale. I went over mid-morning and talked to her a bit. I was hoping that she might have something that I could use as a table in the Florida room for when I eventually move the Ikea chairs there, but she did not have anything that would work. I mentioned that I was trying to keep the house clutter free, and the only thing that I needed to get rid of was the black TV table that we originally bought two years ago. She told me to bring it over and she would try to sell it. Since we only paid $19.00 for it, I put a price tag of $10.00 on it. An hour or so later, she was knocking on the door with two $5.00 bills in her hand. Yippee! One more thing out of the house, and a little extra money in the wallet.
We gave Pat of tour of the house. She was amazed at the changes she saw, especially with how open, bright, and airy the house was. I think we are going to have to have a party and invite all of the neighbors over. They must think we still live in the dirty, cramped, heavily-draped dungeon that Gladys was when they last saw her at the estate sale. She's bright and cheery now, and we are no longer embarrassed to show her off.
On a sad note, today the news headline is that a man was swallowed by the earth when a sinkhole formed under his bedroom. He disappeared down a sinkhole that opened under his house, and it appears that he is buried somewhere in that 20 foot deep hole. The constantly shifting sand and ground water make sinkholes a possibility anywhere in Florida, and that is a reality that everyone who lives here must know. Like tornadoes in Kansas or snow in Minnesota, certain areas are prone to certain dangers. Our house seems safe and solid, but we know that Pinellas County is ranked #5 of the 10 counties in Florida most prone to sinkholes. I think I'll go live with Steve and Chris. Before they bought their house, it was endangered by a sinkhole, so the former owners pumped yards and yards of concrete under it. At least I know that there house is on solid ground... or is that cement?
Before I conclude, I'll share with you what I put up with on a daily basis. Rick and I were out shopping yesterday, and we passed a group of stores that shared a sign in front. One of the stores sells specialty shoes, so the sign said "Diabetic shoes."
"Hmm. 'Diabetic shoes.' Do you suppose they take insulin?" I joked.
"I don't know," Rick replied. "Maybe they use the pump."
"Could be..." I mused.
"Yeah," Rick said, "that's why they're called 'pumps'."
You can groan now at the terrible pun. I know that I did. See what I have to put up with?
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