We're going where?

The following day, I exited the bathroom to find my brother standing outside the door.

Rusty: "Get dressed. We're going to Universal Studios."

I reacted like a Floridian hearing the news in the middle of August. It came out in a shriek that pierced his ears and drifted down the hallway for everyone to hear.

Me: "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" 

My brother did not accept this response. He shoved me into my room and instructed me to get dressed and be ready in thirty minutes. I whined the entire time, reminding him of last night's promise. It did no good. Susan wanted to relive her Universal experience as a child, and Rusty was all about pleasing the wife. 

Rusty: "I'm buying. Get in the car."

When my children saw the SnapChat of the above picture, Darcy immediately texted her sister. Together, they speculated who or what had invaded my body.

MOM IS AT UNIVERSAL STUDIOS???

Yes, I was--under protest. 

I am a park person, preferably in chilly weather, and at Disney World, where they pick you up in the parking lot and shuttle you to the entrance. I had half my daily step count just walking from our car to the Universal ticket booth!

But this trip was about spending time with my brother, and this year is about opening myself to new things, so I begrudgingly enjoyed the day. 

We walked from one end of Universal to the other. It's been years since I was there, so when we tried to find the Harry Potter world, I had only a vague idea that we had to find a secret entrance. I also reluctantly allowed myself to be photographed. 

The lines were tolerable, the adventures fun, and we shared a butterbeer. By the time dusk fell, we were all happy to find a restaurant to sit our butts in a chair and eat. That was not, however, the end. After dinner, my brother made us walk some more, and by the time we finally got back to our car, I was sure tomorrow would be the day I couldn't walk. 

Rusty: "It doesn't matter. Tomorrow, we relax."

Uh huh.

Orlando with my bro

The PGA merchandising show comes to Orlando every January. My brother, a PGA professional, attends most of them. Last year, he and his family came to Florida, and when I suggested that my family come too, he declined. It hurt. My kids were hurt. My husband was pissed. And I was resigned. Been there, done that. 

This year, he had a change of heart and invited me to stay and attend the show. While his kids weren't coming, his wife was, and she and I made plans for her to help up my step count for my 2024 resolutions.

They came for a week. I went for a few days, arriving in time to head out with them for dinner. 

We were up bright and early the next day for the merchandising show. I'm unsure what I expected, but it wasn't what I got. While I knew the Orlando Convention Center was big (I'd been to the NRA convention when I bought tickets to see Toby Keith perform), I didn't realize it was ACRES of land. This thing went for MILES with rows upon rows, each labeled to work with the PGA app. He scheduled appointments with vendors while we ate breakfast and had coffee in a little food court area. Then we were off, and Susan made good on the increase in the step count. I was lucky I was still mobile the next day.

We went down almost every row. Each row had several vendors, all related to golf in some way. If I didn't know anything about the sport, I certainly did after today. My brother chatted with salesmen and women, exchanged business cards, got his badge scanned multiple times, and asked a million questions. Watching him do his thing was cool, and I might have been a bit proud. We should've run a country club together. I bet we would've been a success.

I chatted up some salespeople, but my main focus was scoring free loot. I got tons of pens, but I also snagged some men's socks (my husband loves them), hair ties, and odd things like beads I'll never wear. Still, a convention isn't a convention without coming home with free crap. Plus, I love pens! It became a game of how many pens I could get and how stealthy I could be in claiming them. My brother was impressed.

Lunch was at another food court, sitting at tables with strangers. Susan and I wandered when my brother had his meetings. The last one was in an interactive area, but we chose not to participate because our legs were shaking from so much walking.

Unfortunately, this was at the end of the convention center, which meant we had to walk back to the entrance. Then, we had to walk miles away to the car. I had over 15,000 steps. That is double what I try to get daily, and something I have NEVER done since owning an Apple watch. I had to use the massage gun on my feet that night in our Wyndham.

Thursday morning, those two were up early for breakfast at the outside cafe at our resort. They tagged my phone, but I opted to chill in the unit and have coffee. I was on a deadline for an anthology my writing group, The Write Spice, is putting out next month. I had a vague notion of my story but did not have the damn thing written. 

My time was short-lived. These two returned to the room, and we were off. We hit the pool. We took a hike around the resort. Later, we went for an early dinner, and before we retired for the night, I asked what the plan was for the next day.

Rusty: "Nothing. We're chilling here."

I asked again to make sure, and getting the same response, I wrote long into the night.

Ah, you know how I like to foreshadow...

Hurricane Idalia 2023

Hurricanes have been a no-no topic around my niece since childhood. Her fear of weather developed around six or seven years old, and since they visited Florida in the summer, we steered clear of the trigger word. 

That has stayed the same since she entered adulthood--until this visit. 

Hurricane Idalia's path was coming straight for us, and in anticipation of that, our airport was closed on the day my family was to fly home. No way to hide that.

My niece had not brought her work computer, had many wedding photos to edit, and the news was nothing but doom and gloom. We did our best to assure her, and when no one in our neighborhood began boarding, she resigned herself to the fact this was happening. Oh well.

The family likened the hurricane panic to the brutal snowstorms they get in northern Indiana. We bought some snacks and ensured we had plenty of water, but we continued with tourist activities. There isn't much else to do until the day it strikes.

And it didn't happen.

We received wind and rain in our immediate area, but nothing like the flooding they got farther north and south of us. The poor Fox Mercantile got hit hard. Their Instagram reported flooding in all the rooms, but they'd prepared and saved the merchandise. Tarpon Springs, where Darcy and Gabby had been two days before the hurricane, also got hit with the street and shops flooding. Our local beach took a hit with the wind, and the storm surge and high tide wiped away the beach access walkways and stairs.  

Susan and I walked the beach the day after, photographing the sea creatures we'd have never seen had it not been for Idalia. 

Then, we enjoyed the three extra days they got in Florida.

Summer visitors

My SIL and my niece arrived Wednesday for a week. When Susan is here, she has a list. She wants to hit her favorite restaurants, has to see the beach and the sunset at least once, and must have her picture taken with any palm trees. 

She got three in the first full day. 

This time, my niece had a list. She loves exploring coffee shops, and she loves foxes, and she'd found this place in Cortez that had both. So, on Friday, we took a road trip.

The weather was lovely, and the drive was under two hours long. The Fox Mercantile was super cute. Upon entrance is the shop. It sells homewares, local jewelry, and other accessories, usually with a fox theme. A small coffee/tea area with small snacks is at the back of the shop, and there is an outdoor area with native plants and trees for a tropical oasis vibe, scented by fragrant jasmine vines. 

We sat out there with our coffee. The owner was friendly, and Gabs got some nice stuff.

From there, we ventured downtown and had breakfast, and heading home, we stopped in downtown St. Petersburg, where we wandered and had tea at another little coffee shop Gabs wanted to visit. 

It was a lovely day, and for us, something new.

Sanibel 2018 - Day 2

Susan was up early. The woman doesn't sleep much after beating cancer, so once I joined her for coffee on the balcony, she woke up her sister--no sleeping in on this vacation. We did the breakfast buffet, sitting outside overlooking the pool, and then I insisted we bike ride so that I could get in my exercise. They agreed, and the nice girls running the equipment shack gave us a map to the lighthouse, a 3.6-mile bike ride. That almost put off Susan because that would be a round trip of seven miles, but I convinced her we wouldn't have to go the whole way if we thought it too much.

The weather was beautiful. It was only about 71 degrees, and we had a nice breeze and the sun the entire trip. I went first because my legs were the longest, and after a shaky start, I got into a nice rhythm. I've ridden enough with my biker husband, and so as I passed other bikers and walkers, I said, "Bike left" as I rode around them. I also used a lot of energy, saying good morning to everyone coming toward me from the opposite direction. Everyone was out either biking or hiking, so I bet I said that over a hundred times. It got exhausting. At one point, I wondered aloud if it were still morning and a walker assured me it was.

Her: "It's 10:45 a.m. You're still good."

I probably had gone a mile before I realized I had left the other two far behind. I had to pull over and wait for Susan and Gina to catch up and ask for directions, but Susan had left the map behind, so we decided to just wing it. I set off again and periodically pulled over to wait for them. We made it to the lighthouse, which turned out to be one of the top ten destinations on Sanibel. We parked the bikes and hiked around the lighthouse and the beach, chatting with people we met.

Sanibel is known for its shells. They are everywhere on the beach, but I kept making them put them back as they picked them up. I still have two containers of my mom's shells sitting on my front porch, and that's after we got rid of the other boxes she owned. I know they snuck some in their luggage, but I may or may not have tossed some back. 

We were wearing our matching shirts that said we were part of Susan's 50th crew, so we met many people who wanted to read our shirts. Gina and I always pointed to Susan as the oldest. She always let them know she wasn't 50 yet. People were so nice, wishing her a happy birthday and chatting with us. It was a great bike trip. It was so great I'm looking to move to Sanibel because I would be skinny if I lived here and biked everywhere.

I made it back to the resort before the others, so I circled the parking lot a couple of times. There was a gentleman worried about his convertible. He kept walking back to it as if someone was going to steal it. I passed him twice and then again as he finally decided to leave the car and walked two rows over toward the resort. He stopped abruptly.

Me: "Don't worry, I won't run you over. I've got the hang of it now. I just biked 7 miles."

He laughed and moved on. I circled the lot again until the girls arrived. 

We rode back to the return area, and as I came around the corner to the shack, the same man was standing there.

Him: "This woman tried to hit me in the parking lot!"

Me: "Please. I let you get away, but I think I may have dinged your car."

He stared at me and then threw back his head and laughed and laughed. People were so friendly on this island, I tell ya. I loved biking. I could have biked to the other end of the island, but my back was aching from sitting up straight for so long, so I didn't chance it. We changed into our suits and hiked to the beach, where our island boy, Omario, got us chairs and umbrellas. We also got a beverage from the tiki bar. It was 5 o'clock somewhere.

The weather was perfect. We had lunch, we sunbathed., and then we walked the beach. I got into the water. 

Later that evening, we drove to Captiva Island thirty minutes away, to take a sunset cruise. It was chilly, but we were prepared for that, and the crew had blankets aboard. The cruise was about an hour and a half. It wasn't anything great. We only saw one dolphin, and some man kept getting in our way during the setting of the sun, but it was fun nonetheless. We learned a little history of the islands and met a bunch of nice people.

We ate at a restaurant in Captiva with a waiter that apparently had a bug up his ass. We tried our best to woo him over to the good side, but either we had lost our charm, or he was just too far gone, or we pissed him off regarding something.

Me: "I'll have a Captain Morgan and a coke."

Kyle: "Beer or wine."

**

Me: "What do you recommend for dinner?"

Kyle: "Seafood or no seafood."

**

Me: "Which dessert do you recommend? Never mind, I know. Dessert or no dessert."

We gave him his 20 percent, but I think I'm going to need to mention his behavior on my Yelp review. Jeez, buddy. He was the only unfriendly person we encountered the entire trip, and that includes the guy we were sure was stalking us. Of course, stalkers are always friendly because, well, they are trying to get into your good graces. I learned that in the FBI. FYI.

We ended the night the same way we had the previous night--we played cards. Gina won this night. We contemplated rearranging the furniture as the maid had put back a chair and an ottoman we had moved. We thought it might be funny to set up a camera to see her reaction the next day if we put our mattresses on the dining room floor and the dining table in the living room. But it was too much work, and we hadn't had enough to drink. 50 years and over, you know.

Day 2 in the bag!