Florida – Page 2 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

02-13 to 02-18-2014 Five Days in Fort De Soto

Current Location: Fort De Soto Campground 67 degrees F and sunny

The front door is wide open to the dappled sun coming through the trees here in our campground. It feels very much like some kind of tropical jungle, with lots of palms and thick vegetation surrounding the campsites. The temperatures are cool but the sun is absolutely brilliant.

My muscles feel like jelly in that good way that happens when they are getting properly used. Mo is reading and napping in the back of the rig while I process photos and try to condense our days into something readable. Mark Johnson, over at the Box Canyon Blog, is lately one of my favorite writers. Last night he wrote about how so many of us, RV bloggers specifically, talk about all the wonders of this lifestyle and none of the downside. Problem is, I can’t at the moment find a downside. I think it might be like labor…when it is over, you forget. Especially when the sun is shining.

Because of the mix-up in our original reservation, we had to move after our first night here, and tomorrow will have to move again to another campsite. It isn’t a big problem, though, and we like the new spot we are moving to as much as the first one. This site, 147, is huge and is one of the few pull through’s in this part of the park. Even though it is also private, it is so big that it feels a bit like a road and we are just plopped down in the middle of it. Still, the shade on this warmish sunny afternoon is lovely.

Fort De Soto is actually a Pinellas County Park, south of St Petersburg. It consists of five offshore keys, or islands, lying to the city’s south-southwest: Madelaine Key, St. Jean Key, St. Christopher Key, Bonne Fortune Key and the main island, Mullet Key. All are connected by either bridge or causeway to each other. The island group is accessible by a toll road from the mainland. Water everywhere! Many of the campsites are waterfront, and half the park is dog friendly. Campsites become available six months before your intended booking date, and when I attempted to book our sites, I had a bit of difficulty getting one, much less a waterfront site. I keep forgetting about little things like holiday weekends.

It is a truly beautiful park, with gorgeous white sand beaches, calm bayous for kayaking, mangrove swamps and sea oats on sugar sand. The campground is thick with palms and life oaks that hang over the roadways, with warning signs saying to watch for low hanging branches, yet I have seen many very large rigs parked in the private, spacious campsites. It is a bit spendy. I keep forgetting what we paid for this park, maybe on purpose…maybe because it was prepaid six months ago. With taxes and such, I think it was a bit over $40 per night, probably will qualify as our spendiest camp for the entire three months.

It is worth every single penny. As I said, water everywhere, even a large off leash dog beach and a huge doggie park with a cooling wash station for hot summer days or getting out the salt water after doggie swims.

A paved bicycle trail runs the entire length of the key from end to end and past the campground with workout stations placed here and there and an occasional sign naming trees or plants in the area.

The park is named for Fort De Soto, located at the point where Mullet Key intercepts the channel into Tampa Bay. It was first surveyed in 1849 and Union troops were stationed here during the Civil War to aid in the blockade of Tampa Bay. It wasn’t until the Spanish-American war however, that the fort was built. It operated as a strategic defense from 1898 to 1910 and was decommissioned after that time.There are a few cannon and some ramparts to view at the site of the fort, but the most interesting exhibit are one bunker with old photos of the history of the fort and old maps of the surrounding keys.

I don’t think many people come here to see the fort, however. This place is all about the water, with a large boat launch area to the north, and countless spots where a kayak can launch. On one of the blustery days when we explored North Beach, we saw kite surfers doing their thing on the wild water. The winds were over 10 mph and watching those guys fly across the water was almost as impressive as watching them fall. Neither of us could figure out how someone would go about learning this crazy sport.

Wildlife is everywhere, the small variety, especially raccoons. They are so dang cute, and of course they raid the garbage cans and campsites. Signs everywhere proclaim, don’t feed the wildlife!. And the birds! There are birds everywhere, especially shore and water birds. Mo keeps saying…oh another egret? How many photos of egrets and herons can you take? Egrets here seem a bit like robins in the north country in springtime.

We have so enjoyed our time here. With good weather most of the time and several days to enjoy it, we have biked the trail, walked the beaches, kayaked the bayous and taken Abby to the dog beach. I do not remember when we did what at all, everything is running together. I think that is how it is supposed to be when relaxing at a great camp, right?

All the spacious restrooms are an open design with round buildings and open drains around the inside edge. Interesting and functional. At each restroom there is a washer and dryer for a buck each outside on the breezeway. There are also a great number of garbage cans, almost a pair for every few sites, and it seems they are emptied quite often. There is a boat launch, and a small camp store. Getting back to town for any kind of shopping requires a bit of driving and two bridge tolls of less than a dollar each, so it is better to come here with all that is needed for your stay.

What I do remember is early yesterday morning, rising before sunrise to get over to Pass a Grille Beach south of St Pete Beach for my little ceremony for Bel. I had promised her I would take her to the beach, so after almost a year since her passing, I finally was able to keep that promise. Bel was honored with a setting full moon over the gulf as the sun rose in the east over the bay.

Pass a Grille is a tiny treasure, a peninsula less than a mile wide south along the gulf with a long lovely beach. Unlike much of the Florida coastline, here the houses are less than two stories and are on the other side of the road from the beach walk and access to the beach is completely public. Much of the town is on the National Historic Register. No dogs again, but that wasn’t a problem for us on this early morning since we left Abby back at the MoHo to keep Jeremy company.

Afterward, Mo and I decided that a good breakfast was in order and driving north past the gorgeous Don Cesar Hotel toward St Pete Beach, we found a funky little place called the Toasted Monkey. With friendly down home waitresses in shorts, mimosa’s on the breakfast menu, and several menu items with gravy, we had a great breakfast. One shared plate was plenty for the two of us. We even got a touch of TV. I think there were at least a dozen in the restaurant and we could see 4 or so from our table. Maybe it was a sports bar. We did get to see the US hocky team playing Russia and were glad to hear that they won.

We then tried to find somewhere to buy our traditional Sees chocolates, with the official Sees website stating that a kiosk was available in St Petersburg. Suddenly we were in Florida hell, the Florida that all the westerners cite when they say they would never come to Florida because it is too full of people and traffic. It was nasty. I kept thinking about how awful it would be to actually live here.

I found the Sees at Dillards, my favorite department store, but I wasn’t in the least bit of a mood for shopping and got out of there fast…in time to get back on a busy road and try to find our way across a busy town back to our idyllic little island campground. Whew!

More excitement came on Saturday as we waited for the month’s mail to arrive USPS Express. With a guaranteed Saturday delivery, we were a bit anxious when nothing had arrived at the campground by 4 pm. Finally the desk help, and old southern boy, said, “Well, I don’t think anyone went to get the mail today.” Seems as though the mail is delivered in a box on the other side of the bridge and the post office refuses to come out to the island. (Sure wish they had told us that when they insisted we should have our mail sent directly to the campground!)

The help decided they could make the 15 minute run to the Post Office to pick up mail after all, and after another half an hour I returned to the office to find that the expected packet of mail did NOT come with the Saturday delivery. UhOh. There is a lot of stuff in that packet, including a big refund check for our Michelin tires and all our income tax papers. Sheesh. With the holiday I was in a panic thinking we would have to figure out a way to wait around until Tuesday afternoon for the mail to be delivered.

Home to the rig to check the tracking number which said the packet was out for delivery on Saturday at 10 AM. ??? I went back up to the office, where the old southern boy sheepishly held up our packet saying, “I guess someone delivered it this morning and it was on the desk. No one thought to look on the desk”. Ok Then. All is well that ends well and we got our mail. I am glad we only have to do this one more time on this trip and hopefully the mid March mail delivery will be without incident.

I used the crock pot again to make some carnitas beef and as it was cooking, instead of those wonderful smells wafting through the MoHo we kept thinking, “What IS that smell?!” I had purchased a carnitas spicy sauce slow cooking packet at Whole Foods, one of my few luxury purchases. After several hours it was so bad that I had to put the crock pot outside and turn on the fan. I can’t even give the meat to the animals because it is too spicy. I have no idea what the weird flavor in that sauce was, but I hope I never encounter it again.

See, Mark Johnson? All isn’t perfect in the RV world.

Tomorrow the forecast is for even warmer temperatures, clear skies and no wind. That calls for another kayak, another walk on the dog beach, another bike ride and hopefully something tasty for supper. Tonight it will be tasty cheese quesadillas, with lots of jalapenos and no meat.

01-07 to 01-09-2014 From Emerald to Forgotten

Current:Manatee Springs State Park, Sunny with predicted high temp 70 F

The Emerald Coast of Northwestern Florida has many wonders. The sand is probably the whitest I have seen anywhere and the emerald to turquoise colored waters rival anything I have seen in the Caribbean. It also has high rises, and traffic, and requires some skill to manage with a dog. The cool (can you say cold?) temperatures were not a surprise. Southern Florida is warm in winter. I spent enough time in Ocala to know that winter frosty days are not unusual in Northern Florida. And the “dry season” isn’t always that dry.

Still, unless you want to barrel through the state on interstates, the Emerald Coast through Pensacola, Destin, and toward Panama City is the best way to get to another secret of Florida, The Forgotten Coast. We decided to skip 30A and stayed a bit north to travel highway 98 toward Panama City.

A great resource for dog owners is a website called BringFido.com, with listings of dog friendly resources all around the country. In a state famous for No Dog beaches, with that trusty little website I found a surprise. With the exception of St Joe Peninsula State Park (our destination) most of the beaches in Gulf County are dog friendly! Amazing!

The warm sunshine was glorious when we parked the rig at the Pier at Panama City Beach, in a huge empty parking lot next to Margueritaville. There is a small area west of the pier for a few hundred feet that is not only dog friendly, but no leash required. Abby got a dose of playing in the water and we got another dose of pure white sand, this time accompanied by bright sun and balmy breezes. Almost warm enough to take off the jackets!

Still in the morning hours when we arrived, the touristy town with beach shopping and bright colors was fairly quiet, traffic was minimal, and people were scattered. Looking around, I could only imagine what this place might be like just a little bit later in the season. Spring Break is approaching in another couple of weeks and I don’t think I would want to be here then.

After our relaxed respite on the beach, we continued east along the coast toward Panama City, a town that seemed a bit worn for wear. Best find for us was a rig friendly car wash, where we managed to get the salt and sand washed off the MoHo and the Tracker before heading for another salty, sandy beach camp.

Early afternoon arrival at St Joseph Peninsula State Park was perfect. When making all the crazy reservations I worked on last summer, I decided to skip this park, but last week thought better of it and added two nights using ReserveAmerica. Most of the Florida State Parks that I have reserved seem to use this system. On arrival, we were glad to have a reservation since even in early afternoon the park was nearly full.

Ahhh….now this is why I wanted to come to Florida. No high rises, no traffic, slow roads and quiet beaches, bays filled with birds and calm water. Sunshine. Sunrises and Sunsets on the beach.

Our first afternoon and evening were simple, with walks on the boardwalk and through the campgrounds with Abby, and beach walks for me. No dogs on the beaches here, but there are several trails around that do allow dogs on leashes.

Saturday morning we decided the weather was perfect for a bay kayak, and drove around to explore the peninsula a bit before deciding where to launch. The campgrounds are about half way down the long, narrow curve of Cape San Blas, with the northern end of the cape protected as a wildlife preserve. With a simple free pass obtained at the entry station, we were allowed to drive into the reserve. Thinking that the road (showing up on google maps) went all the way to the end, we were surprised to discover that the road was gated, and it was a 6.5 mile walk to the northern tip of the reserve.

Instead, we parked at the beach access parking lot, and with cool temperatures, clouds, and shade, decided to let Abby wait in the car while we walked across the dunes to see the beach. At 12 years old, Abby seems to finally get the idea that we will return, and we didn’t see any evidence of frantic dog after our 45 minute walk. Even a short walk on the beach with the two of us was nice, since sometimes in places like this we need to take turns. I tend to be more the beach walker and Mo will walk Abby on the roads and trails around the campground.

Mid-afternoon, the sun was out in full force and we decided to launch from the Bay Picnic area. What appeared to be a muddy launching beach turned out to be firm sand with no drop off and a few inches of water. It was probably the easiest launch ever for us!

Kayaking the bay was perfect, with glassy water much of the time, and now and then a slight breeze bringing up a few gorgeous ripples reflecting on the sandy bottom. After a mile or so, we passed the rental cabins in the preserve, and the sand dunes and scrub forest were empty of anything but birds and an occasional hiker. (Judy, this photo is for you! Abby rides in front of Mo and her life jacket is orange, so that is why you may not see her in the photos all the time, but she is there.)

The water was never more than a few feet deep, and several times we saw huge conch shells. At first, thinking it was a great find, I tried to pick the heavy shell up with my paddle. Even with two of us trying to get to the shell, we couldn’t get it up. A bit later, I found another one and managed to pick it up, only to discover a very disgruntled black critter inside. We saw several more, and figured out that it wasn’t worth trying to get one because they were probably all inhabited.

Cape San Blas curves back around St Joseph Bay to the north and east, with the tip of the cape very close to the mainland. We wanted a simple kayak, not a marathon, so we spent about two hours on the water and traveled only halfway toward the end of the cape before turning back.

After supper, I decided to take another walk over the boardwalk to the beach to catch the sunset. I think about half the campground population was out there, many of them with a drink in their hands and their beach chairs, ready to toast the sunset. The previous night had been beautiful as well, but with some clouds and cool winds there hadn’t been nearly as many people.

The night skies were dark and brilliant with stars after the quarter moon went down. There were cardinals and mockingbirds everywhere, egrets and herons in the pond behind our site, pelicans and stilts on the beach, and even a bald eagle just east of the campground. This is the Florida I wanted, the Florida I imagined when I said to Mo, “Let’s spend a winter in Florida!”. I think the sunny day kayaking on St Joseph Bay may have won her over.

There are many many photos in my google photo albums, and in the interest of bandwidth I have only put a few of them here. If you have the time, check them out here

02-06-2014 Cold Rainy Day in Destin

Current temperature 36 F Partly clear and the high to day up to a balmy 53!

I guess 53F is a lot better than 43F which was the high temperature here yesterday. With rain. No sun, not a speck of sunshine. We are leaving today and heading east toward St Joe Peninsula State Park….I think we need to follow the rain. Weatherunderground says that by Sunday the rainy weather will have passed this part of the Emerald Coast with sunshine predicted in Destin and clouds and rain for points farther east.

I guess this is the most frustrating part of traveling with reservations, we just don’t have a lot of flexibility to follow the weather. The whole plan would fall like a stack of dominoes if we decided to try to go somewhere warm and sunny right now. The other problem, of course, is that there isn’t much warm and sunny in this half of the country and we would have to go a couple of thousand miles west. And by the time we got there, Winter Storm Orion might be doing some damage as well even out west.

Right now, Oregon is experiencing some severe winter weather on the west side of the mountains, and I am quite happy to be down here, relatively warm, not shoveling snow and slipping on icy roads. I will not complain one bit more about the cold weather here in Florida. I also know that if I could just get a little bit father south the predictions are for highs in the 80’s at Marathon Key. I need a Star Trek transporter to get us there before some weird weather thing turns it all cold again.

With Florida beaches off limits to dogs, we took Abby to the Four Paws doggy day care for our day on the beach. I would say that was a fairly loosely run business, but we saw where Abby was to spend the day, and it seemed clean enough. There was no outdoor space, but the owner said he walked the dogs every two hours or so. The hours are a bit limited and we had to return by 4PM to pick her up.

On a side note, I would highly recommend reading ALL the reviews for boarding facilities. A kennel recommended by the desk staff at the campground had some rather scary reviews. The kennel owner is threatening to sue the reviewers for slander, but a local vet confirmed that a small dog died from injuries sustained at the facility by a larger dog. If there are terrible reviews and then a bunch of glowing reviews with a later date, pay attention, those later reviews are probably fake.

We started our dog free morning with pastries and coffee at “The Donut Hole”, recommended by several bloggers and a recent commenter on our blog. Thanks, that was a good choice. The coffee was strong, the pastries superb, and the restaurant gave us a place to prepare for venturing out into the cold rain.

I wanted most of all to see Grayton Beach State Park, and had no problem paying the $5. entry fee to explore the campground, check out the dune lakes, and the famous white sands of the beach. Even with the gloomy skies, the pastel turquoise colors of the water and the pure white sands were wonderful.

We walked as long as we could manage in the cold. Even with a yellow flag out, for moderate conditions, the breezes made the 43 degree temperatures bone chilling. Still, I had to put my feet in that crystalline water. The Gulf was doing that gentle Gulf thing that I love, with soft, little waves…can I even call them waves?….lapping the shore and the dark clouds reflecting in the still water. I kept imagining how incredible it would feel to have my kayak out there on the wilderness of silky turquoise water and gray sky in all directions.

From Grayton Beach, there are some tall Florida condominiums visible in the distance, but nothing invasive. The State Park itself is definitely a place to camp for us, with several sites with paths leading directly to the dune lake and plenty of privacy. The newer part of the campground has 50 amp hookups and larger sites, but they are unprotected and open. We liked the older part better, nice thing about having a 30 amp, 26 foot rig.

After freezing at the beach, we jumped back in the Tracker turning the heat on full blast to try to dry out my jeans. Even with the cuffs rolled up I managed to get all wet. Continuing east on 30A, we traveled the short mile and a half from the park to the little storybook town of Seaside, Florida. Years ago, watching the movie “The Truman Show”, I fell in love with this town, as did many other people. Looking it up, I learned it was a planned community, one of the first that used the new Urban Design concept of creating a living space that was pedestrian friendly, with common areas, concentrated housing of varying sizes and types, and the ability to work and play and live all without having to use a car.

I don’t think many people who work in Seaside actually live there, since many of the houses now go for millions. It was still very cold, and by the time we got to Seaside it was also raining. The lovely town square was in the midst of major reconstruction and not quite lovely at this time. One of the local food wagon vendors told us they had trouble with drainage and the square was being redesigned to handle runoff more efficiently. He said it would be gorgeous again by March.

I had Mo take the obligatory photo of me at the tiny post office and then we walked the square a bit.

A store with proclaimed cottage style was rather elegant. I kept picturing all that fancy elegant cottage stuff in our real cottage back in Oregon. Maybe not, but it was luscious to look at, with linen woven slipcovers, big bowls of coffee beans on distressed wood tables, and beautiful linen napkins at $20. a piece. Let’s see…dinner for six and $120. for napkins? I love luxury and good quality, but this was even more than I would do.

The famous Modica Market was a nice stop, with tall shelves of everything imaginable that required library style ladders to stock. Again, even with a small bin of organic produce, this wasn’t exactly your weekly grocery shopping spot. The Seaside Transit Authority tent was worth a double take, however, with bicycles instead of busses as the city transportation system.

Still raining, I convinced Mo to walk at least a couple of blocks through the residential areas, with their white picket fences and porches bigger than my house. Just a short way down the block, we found a public pathway, a truly amazing little treat, that led between back yards, much like an alley, but not for cars. The path led to the main road where we got back in the car, grateful again for warmth.

It seems that March is the beginning of “the season” in Seaside, and many of the charming little boutiques on the beach side of the town square were still closed. Lucky for me, Pickles was open, and I managed an order of fried pickles…something I never tried before but sounded like fun. They were. I can see that Seaside could be a great place to visit on a warm sunny day on a bicycle. With a great bike trail between the town and the state park to the west, the perfect combination of quiet kayaking, beautiful beach, and cute busy town accessible by bike is pretty darn inviting. But not today in the cold rain.

Traveling back 20 miles or so to Destin, we found a WalMart…a tiny version of most WalMarts, hoping for some shelf liner, some propane, and some TUMS. Eating out so much isn’t that good for my tummy. I needed to be armed for the last dog free adventure of the day, hot Irish coffee at McGuire’s Irish Pub back in Destin. I have seen photos of this place on so many blogs recently, and read about how great it is for so long that I decided it was worth a try.

We weren’t disappointed, and Mo finally got fish and chips the way she has been wanting it for a month now. None of that greasy, thick doughy breading, but a nice light crispy coating on flaky light fish. I tried the rueben egg roll appetizers and they were great! McGuire’s is also a small craft brewery, and when I asked if any of their beer was bottled, the head brewmaster came over to our table to have a long conversation about crafted beer. I gave the rest of my Irish coffee to Mo and ordered a Millennial. Excellent beer, not too hoppy, but rich and creamy. In Florida, they do sell growlers of tap beer, but a growler is a gallon! Hard to fit that in a motorhome fridge, so I passed. It would take me a long time to drink a gallon of beer!

It is very nearly impossible to get a photo of the interior of McGuire’s, since the place is mainly lit with dim red lights. The walls and ceiling are covered with dollar bills, all signed and named by folks who have visited. They call it the million dollar ceiling. I remember a ceiling like this along Interstate 90 west of Missoula, Montana somewhere near St Regis, but for the life of me can’t remember the name of the place. Then there was the great little trailer coffee shop on the dirt road track the the Denali Highway in Alaska…covered in dollar bills with pies that were $36 each. That dollar bill ceiling thing isn’t all that uncommon.

When we picked up Abby, she seemed happy and unstressed, so I assume her day was OK. Ours was OK as well, in spite of the rain and cold, and as I fell asleep last night I kept remembering the color of the water, not how cold my hands and feet were while walking on the beach.

Women and Dirt

A dozen years ago, a great soil survey project leader and I had a joke. If a woman collected rocks at 3, refused to come inside out of the rain, and loved mud pies, she had the makings of a soil scientist. When I first traveled into the world of soil survey in the 70’s, women soil scientists were rare. Times have changed, and more than half of the young soil scientists in the field are now women.

I had the pleasure of working with one of these dirt loving young women when I managed my last project in the foothills of California. Of course, we insiders know that “dirt” and “soil” are two very different things, but sometimes insiders lovingly refer to our particular specialty as dirty. AKA, the bumper sticker that says “Do It In The Dirt” and other such silliness.

Alison came to me by way of Chicago, detailing to California to map soils when we were bringing people in from all over the country to help complete soil survey in areas as yet unmapped. Most of the eastern and central parts of the country have existing soil maps, but out west there are many areas with no certified soil information available. Alison came with enthusiasm and energy and brought a great work ethic to Sonora. Her nickname was “Scoopy”, since not one of us could dig a hole as fast as Alison, guys included! Of course, the fact that she has run 10 marathons (including the Boston Marathon twice) probably helps.

Why am I talking about Alison on the travel blog? Because visiting in Florida gives me a chance to spend a day hanging with a fellow soil scientist who has also become a good friend. Alison left Chicago and took a well deserved promotion to Florida and loves it. With a project office in Tavares, a beautiful new home in Eustis, near the charming town of Mt Dora, and a life filled with year round running routes, Alison is happy. Her husband Matt has settled in as well, teaching marimba and music from their home, although he does mourn the loss of easy access to university culture.

With 8 days available for Bel I didn’t feel badly about taking a day on my own to drive south for a visit. Once again the open space of the roads around Ocala amazed me. Traveling east on 40 and then turning south on 19 led me through the Ocala National Forest and miles of traffic free highway. I passed Juniper Springs and Alexander Springs, remembering stories from Karen and Al’s blog about their camping sites in this part of Florida and day dreaming once again of the time when I will be here with Mo and the MoHo and the kayaks.

It was wonderful seeing Alison, laughing about some of our shared soil survey stories, catching up on good inside gossip about fellow crew members and work in general as we walked around her favorite little sinkhole close to her home. The area has been fenced and protected and has a great trail around the ravine through some lovely habitats. Why we were walking enjoying the warm breezes, Alison came up with a line that I loved. “People say we don’t have mountains in Florida, but we do…they are just up in the sky.” She said that watching the huge cumulus clouds build in the afternoons always gives her the chance to look up and appreciate the scenery.

Matt joined us for a drive to Mt Dora for lunch at the little French restaurant with a lovely patio and live music. Mt Dora is a storybook town, with surprising hills surrounding several lovely lakes lined with beautiful homes. Just down the road from the main part of town is the lakefront and boardwalk giving us another wonderful walk through the woods with views of the water. I still am trying to take photos of “velvet air” to no avail. I think a real photo challenge is getting a picture that evokes that feeling. Still haven’t managed it, but I keep trying.

Mt Dora was quite busy on this Sunday afternoon, with many people shopping the cute shops and stores. The Christmas music was piped outside with strains of “White Christmas” serenading the 80 degree balmy weather. Floridians really get into the Christmas thing, and the decorations are everywhere. Must be all those retired New Englander’s missing their homeland, but not enough to actually go back and weather the awful winters. I found a perfect Christmas flag that has eluded me, a sturdy applique two sided flag with good colors. Even an internet search didn’t yield anything I wanted. I will hang it in the snow at Rocky Point and remember this warm, delightful afternoon in Mt Dora.

Bel is doing well, medications are current, her health has improved a bit with the help of “Heart of Florida” in Ocala, and I had a chance to meet her neighbors and exchange contact information. Bel’s laptop is running well and she is getting used to using the mouse and Windows 7. She now knows how to get online, either in her back yard with a local internet from an agreeable neighbor, or a couple of miles away at Wendy’s.

By the way, Wendy’s is a really great connection spot, none of that interface stuff that happens at McDonalds, and a really fast connection. I have learned to search out a Wendy’s when I need to get online and don’t want any hassles. Wish I had a connection that fast at home!

I talk to Mo every day, and home has been uneventful. The night temps are in the teens with daytime highs in the low 40’s at best. I have enjoyed the break, the warmth, the sunshine, but I am ready to get back home to my real life. Time to haul wood, hug the dog and the cat, hang the flag, have cable TV and an internet connection again, and work in my home office in my pajamas.

Florida Velvet

Florida Velvet Air, at least that is how it feels to me. This morning I somehow slept in until 8:30 and when I woke the breezes were billowing puffy whites around a blue bird sky and the air felt like velvet on my skin. The prediction for today is in the 70’s. Bel and I ambled (yes I amble a lot with Bel) downtown to visit the Ocala Farmers Market in the historic town square. Just last night, we visited the same square to walk around the downtown streets for the First Friday Art Walk of Ocala.

So much seems to have changed around here in the last ten years or so that I have been visiting, but so much also remains the same. Fort King Street is still beautiful, lined with stately old Southern homes embraced by gnarled oak arms that cover entire city lots.

The square this morning was vibrant with color and happy people enjoying the sunlight and fresh food. I love seeing the painted horses from the Horse Fever event a few years ago. I think one of them actually auctioned for 80,000 bucks that went to the art council here.

Yesterday afternoon we slipped to the west side of town searching for a rib truck. Fabulous sweet sticky ribs, dripping with juice, served with yellow rice and green beans full of bacon fat. We sat on the picnic table in the parking lot and slurped up the amazing stuff watching lots of local folks dropping in to pick up supper in huge to-go bags.

I didn’t have the camera with me, sadly, because as we left the parking lot and tried to keep off the main route, I managed to slide into a part of Ocala people don’t talk about much.

In spite of all the years that have intervened, in spite of the fact that Ocala used to have a black mayor, this part of town could have come directly from the pre-sixties. My time warp again. Women on porches looking worn and sad, young men looking angry and sullen, tiny black ladies the color of ink walking slowly with carts and old sweaters. I know we have segregated neighborhoods out west, I have traveled in them in most cities, but there is something very different in the south, something residual, and it was disturbing. Poverty is disturbing wherever you find it, I guess.

After the market, this morning we dropped into a couple of downtown shops, Ocala Traditions, with gorgeous displays of fine china, sterling, and crystal set up on beautiful tables, and the Paddock, a large, wonderful store dedicated entirely to horses, hounds, racing, and fox hunting. Ocala is still the horse capital of the world (they insist it rivals Kentucky) and this shop catered directly to the genteel owners of the beautiful horse farms that surround the area. Those at least that haven’t been converted to gated communities with million dollar homes. After all, John Travolta hangs out here and lives just north in Anthony in a community that lets him land his jumbolair jet. I guess the difference between all this genteel southern stuff and that neighborhood we were in yesterday is still in the back of my mind.

As the afternoon slides by, the sun is still warm, I have downloaded all the photos and will eventually get down to Wendy’s to catch up on email and blogs and such. The time warp is definitely back again…I have no idea what time it actually is right now…maybe I’ll go for a walk.