To gambol and gamble

Dunedin,FL – There is never any shortage of things to do! This past weekend there was an art festival in downtown Dunedin, so Val and I pedaled into town with John and Fawn to have a look. We took the Pinellas Trail, a wonderful bike path built in part along old railway lines, that now provides dozens of miles of bicycle and walking trails in a huge loop.

It was past three o’clock when we parked our bikes and started walking – to me, it seemed quite late for an arts and crafts fair, and I half expected to see many booths closed up for the day – but everything was in full swing, with lots of visitors and a long line of tented booths stretching along the city’s central park. It was wonderful to see all the different wares, from fine art to kitschy knick-knacks! Some booths were devoted to a single product, such as hundreds of beautifully decorated hairbands, while others offered a wider range, such as poster art, jewelry, cloth items (including sleeves for your ceiling fan blades – huh??) and gorgeous photographs framed for hanging. One booth had children’s clothing hand decorated with charming 3-D fairy-tale figures or superheroes.

A guitarist was strumming away with his hat out for donations, and the smell of popcorn wafted out from one of the food stands. Fawn found some darling garden ornaments for a friend back home, and Val and John bought leather pouches to hang from their belt loops or bike seats. As we pedaled back, we paused at the Legion along the path, where a live band was entertaining crowds of people at their outdoor café. It was the President’s Day long weekend, so people were in a holiday mood.

We are always in a holiday mood, and hardly noticed the date! It continued to feel like the weekend when, on Tuesday at lunchtime, folks on John and Fawn’s street in the park hosted a Kentucky Derby event. The ends of the street were closed off so they could set up lawn chairs and tables, and for days leading up to the event, the women were working up fancy hats and figuring out wardrobe choices so they could arrive in style – and did they ever! Fascinators, wide-brimmed straw hats and tons of feathers and ribbons fluttered in the warm breeze as they all gathered. The men folk also wore various head gear, but somewhat more subdued. One fellow dressed up in a white lab coat, rubber boots, stethoscope and gloves – the horse vet, of course!

The entertainment of the day, after we had sampled a generous and delicious array of salads, barbeque and desserts, was a horse-racing game played on a peg board with little plastic jockeys on horseback that moved forward along the peg holes. It involved a deck of cards, dice and a plastic pot of quarters, dimes and nickels for bets, and lots of cheering and clapping as the “race” progressed. A good time was had by all!

Tonight, we are dining Italian-style. The clubhouse is decked out with checkered tablecloths and wine bottles with candles stuck in them, and we will be served a lasagna dinner, salads and dessert. It will be in air-conditioned coolness, and I expect we will have some kind of Italian soundtrack while we enjoy our meal. Good thing we have a whole week to go before weighing in at Weight Watchers again!

My neighbours and other animals

Dunedin, FL – Last Saturday, John and Fawn’s neighbours threw a brunch party for everyone on the street, to which we were also invited. Lawn chairs and tables were set out on people’s front lawns and on the street, and everybody brought a little something to round out the French toast, bacon and sausages that were the main part of the meal. A gorgeous spread of fruit salads, homemade cinnamon buns, golden baked eggs and real maple syrup from Canada – John and Fawn’s contribution – tickled our taste buds as we lined up to load our plates.

When most of us had eaten, the fun began. At one end of the street, they’d set up a game of cornhole (we’d call it bean toss – aiming bean bags at a board with a hole in it), and at the other was a giant Jenga game, with stacked wooden blocks that stood about four feet high. People took turns trying to extract a block from lower parts of the structure and placing it on top without making the whole thing tumble down. Great rounds of applause greeted every successful placement. It was lots of fun!

The RV park is home to several hundred residents of all ages – but mostly retired folks like us – and a considerable number of dogs and cats who keep their owners in reasonable shape on daily walks. When Anna visited John and Fawn one evening, she brought her furry companion, who fell completely head-over-heels in love with Val. Who wouldn’t, when gentle hands were so willing to provide a tummy rub?

There are other creatures who call the park home as well. One is a lonely egret, with long legs, sleek white feathers and a long pointed beak, which has adopted a plastic bird of the same species as its best friend. The plastic egret bobs back and forth on its pedestal, planted next to its owner’s trailer, and the real bird stands nearby in rapt admiration. It’s quite a sight!

The other day we caught sight of a healthy-sized box turtle by the roadside. When I got closer to snap a picture, it waddled away and then stopped. Slowly, its feet and head retracted into its deep green shell and it waited until I left it in peace!

Now that the weather has finally warmed up a bit, the frogs have been giving us a nightly concert. When night falls, a trilling chorus begins, and hardly ever lets up! In the daytime, we often catch sight of tiny, nimble geckoes that dart out of sight the minute you get too close.

Of course, we know about the rattlesnakes that inhabit the area, so whenever we bike over to John and Fawn’s after dark, we make sure to light our way with a flashlight. One encounter was more than enough!

Author, author!

Dunedin,FL – “Wouldn’t it be neat,” I said one evening last November, “if we could meet Michael Connelly in person when we’re down in Florida?” Val had read more than a dozen of Connelly’s police thrillers by this time and could hardly put them down.

This former newspaper reporter from Los Angeles had penned a whole series of novels starring Hieronymus Bosch – a.k.a. Harry – a seasoned LAPD detective with a knack for solving murder cases. The author’s bio indicated that Michael Connelly was currently a resident of Tampa, FL – just a short drive from where we would be staying.

Our interest increased once we got to Florida and began watching the Amazon TV series “Bosch” with John and Fawn. Val was very pleased to see how well they depicted the events in Connelly’s novels – but that was not by chance: Connelly was one of the show’s executive producers, and he himself chose Titus Welliver for the title role.

We mentioned our interest in meeting Connelly to John and Fawn one evening, and moments later Fawn, staring at her cellphone, murmured “oh my goodness!” – she had googled Connelly’s name and up popped a notice of a free meet-the-author and book signing event in Tampa in early February!

Val and I immediately sent in our names to reserve a spot; only a limited number could be admitted. We noted the venue, a restaurant/bookstore called the Oxford Exchange, and a few days before, drove in to Tampa to find it and scout out places to park. Our excitement was contagious: John and Fawn said they’d like to come too, but there were no more spaces.

Never mind, we said. We would try our luck. The long-awaited day arrived, and around three o’clock (for a 7 pm event) the four of us were on our way. We arrived 45 minutes later. Inside the white-brick building we found an optician, a bookstore, a coffee shop, a home décor section and a sit-down restaurant. We enjoyed our meal, while servers set up chairs for the evening’s event.

By the time we finished, a lineup had formed outside. Then it was time for guests to find seats – after organizers checked their list of names. Moments before the event started, we saw John and Fawn filing in – a cancellation had opened up a couple of spots!

For the next hour, Michael Connelly talked about his novels, his characters, the TV series, his future plans and much more to a rapt audience. He answered questions for a while longer, and then moved to the small table where he would sign books. In the lineup, Val kept his newly-purchased copy of The Last Show tucked under his arm.

Soon, Val was conversing with the man himself, thanking him for his great books and mentioning his own police career. “To Val Zanin, who knows about Harry and Renee”, Connelly scrawled above his signature, naming protagonists in two of his book series.

As I write this, Val is seated in the La-Z-Boy chair, engrossed in his newest Michael Connelly novel.

Stayin' alive

Dunedin, FL – On Monday mornings here at the RV park, everyone gets together for a singalong, led by our amateur band (which produces a pretty good sound!), morning coffee, and announcements for the coming week. There’s no shortage of things to participate in! – and for every level of involvement, from marathon peak form to standing-in-the-wings observation.

It’s great to have such a variety of choices. It’s also sobering to know, from those morning announcements, that some residents who used to be doing all sorts of things in the park have suffered health setbacks, and in a couple of recent cases, passed away. As members of an aging cohort, we know our time is not infinite, and doing what we can to make the rest of our lives the best of our lives is a very good idea.

Which is why, since we got here three weeks ago, I’ve been exploring various offerings – all of which are free of charge – at the clubhouse. I’ve been line dancing on Thursday afternoons, and yesterday I had my first exposure to yoga! I had to purchase a yoga mat for the class, which I found last week at Walmart for a reasonable price – and it even coordinated with the colours of my running shoes. Bonus.

Never mind that the running shoes were not worn for the class; at least I looked good arriving with them on my feet and the mat tucked under my arm. Our virtual teacher was projected onto a screen on the wall, so she never saw my rudimentary attempts to keep from falling over when, down on hands and knees, we had to extend our right leg up and back and counterbalance with our left arm up and forward.

And she never saw me grab Fawn’s hand, next to me, when we wobbled stork-style on one leg with our arms outstretched. And she didn’t hear my vertebrae crackle when I pointed my chin to the ceiling and made a vain attempt to grab my heels behind me as I knelt on my mat. I didn’t mind that my fellow yoga participants could see all that, because none of us could call ourselves experts. But, whether limited by arthritis, excess pounds or lack of practice, we were all there doing what we could. Stayin’ alive.

The least appealing part of the class for me was the part when we laid face down on the mat. My lovely pink-and-grey Walmart special was so fresh out of its wrapping that it gave off great fumes of whatever chemicals went into its rubbery components. Note to self: before next class, hang it out in the sun and breeze for several hours to off-gas! Whew!

It felt good to have tried something new, and to have given my body a good – but gentle – workout of stretches and positions that addressed all my muscles and limbs. My daily fast-walking has always been a good habit for cardio, but this was a worthwhile addition.

This morning, when I popped in to the club house on an errand, I saw another onscreen teacher guiding a class of residents stepping and kicking to a lively Mexican sound track. Looked like a lot of fun! I checked the weekly calendar to see what it was: Zumba. Hmmm… maybe next Tuesday I’ll be giving that a whirl too.

Car 54 Where Are You?

Dunedin,FL – That refrain, in a whining monotone, is triggered every Monday night in the Dunedin RV Park main hall, where dozens of residents assemble for a weekly chance to win at Bingo. Chanting the name of that old police TV drama happens every time the caller announces “G 54. G five four.”

When I stayed at this park a few years back, I got my first introduction to Bingo – unless you count the little cardboard Trav-L Bingo games our parents handed out on road trips to keep us kids occupied. Looking out the car window, whenever we spotted a dump truck, an ice cream stand, or any other thing pictured on our cards, we’d cross it off with great excitement, trying to fill the card before anyone else.

Bingo in the park clubhouse was a whole new world. Great hordes of people filed in, equipped with colourful little tote bags that carried daubers, pens, water bottles, table mats, lucky charms and noisemakers. Before sitting down at the tables, they had to line up to buy their game cards, shuffling along and chatting with their fellow gamers.

When everyone was settled, the caller took position at the microphone at the front desk, with a large screen behind him, displaying all the possible numbers and letters that would be called. To one side was a chart showing what exactly counts as a win: it’s not only five numbers in a vertical or horizontal straight row; diagonals count, as well as four outer corners, or four inner corners around the free square at the centre. Six ways to win!

Then there are the lucky numbers. Each week, three numbers are posted, and if your Bingo includes one of them, you get an extra 20 dollars. And to build suspense right to the end, there’s a jackpot for the last game – last Monday it was $250 – if a player achieves a Bingo before the 58th number is called.

Now, if you are a regular Bingo player, this story might be like a rocket scientist hearing someone describe how to fold a paper airplane. But it was all new to me my first time! And there was a lot to learn! It takes concentration and self-control to see your game sheets fill up (you can play six sheets at a time), and to flinch every time the new number is called and see that it isn’t the one you need, and to smile resignedly when someone else hollers “Bingo!” before you do.

But it’s fun to hear other players chime in with their silly noises – like “RMM! RMM!” when O 66 is called, or a tweety bird for I 22. Fawn and I have train whistles on a lanyard around our necks, and when the caller intones “B 9. B nine” we toot the whistles for Engine Number Nine! Someone else has a little device that says, in a Chipmunk's voice, “B 12, Bingo! B 12, Bingo!” Like I said, it’s an entire new world if you’ve never played.

The best part, though, is when you win! It hasn’t happened for me yet this year, but during my last stay I won $60, with which I bought myself a lovely bracelet with red stones at Macy’s. I wear it at least once a week. Who knows, maybe I'll snag the jackpot this year. I’ll keep whistling till then.

The serpent and the seashore

Dunedin,FL – “Snake!”, cried Fawn, as we approached the entry gate of Honeymoon Island State Park last Friday, a short drive from the RV park. From the back seat of the car, Val and I lurched forward to catch a glimpse, but could see nothing. “It’s a great big snake!”, she repeated, and we looked all the harder, but all we saw was the asphalt road leading up to the kiosk ahead.

John was able to make a U-turn just before we joined the lineup of cars, and head back toward the spot where Fawn had called out. Finally, we saw it: a magnificent, undulating diamond-back rattlesnake, slowly slithering from the warm asphalt toward the grass. We were spellbound! I quickly passed my phone to Val to snap a photo, but by the time he did so, the grass and the snake melded into one medley of greens, browns and tans, rendering the creature almost invisible.

This was not our first visit to Honeymoon Island; on previous visits, we had stopped in at the visitor centre to see displays about the plant and animal life in this seaside state park. We had also read about rattlesnakes, and seen warning signs along the pathways – but who really believes those things? It’s just the management avoiding liability, right?

Well, our sighting triggered a whole new level of respect for warning signs. The rattler was a good four or five feet long, and wore a clear diamond-shaped pattern along its length, culminating in the scalloped grey rattle that, prior to that moment, I’d only seen in cowboy westerns. And its complete disappearance, as soon as it hit the grass, underscored how easy it would be for an inattentive hiker to step on one by mistake.

Following that exciting encounter, we headed through the entry gate and on to the beach for an afternoon stroll. The flags at the pavilion cracked in the stiff wind, and we had to grab our hats a couple of times before they flew off, so it wasn’t exactly tempting to strip down and jump into the waves – although there were some folks who had waded in. But it was lovely to see the water, and to hunt for pretty shells among the heaps washed up by the tide. Seagulls screamed at us and sandpipers and plovers skittered across the hardened sand, looking for little sea creatures to munch on.

The island got its name back in the 1940s when, in a move to draw more visitors to the area, organizers set up tiny cottages for newlyweds. A contest, across the whole US, offered as its prize a free week-long honeymoon for selected lucky winners – and they came to discover the same unspoiled beach that we enjoyed all these years later, thanks to the protection offered by the state park system.

It was great to have a warm enough day, after many cool ones, for our visit. Today (Sunday) as I write this, a steady downpour is giving our little cottage a lakefront location: the massive puddle in the street out front. I look forward to the day I can wear some of the hot-weather stuff I packed! Not yet!

Everybody and their dog

Dunedin, FL— Clowns on stilts, Charlie Chaplin lookalikes, barbershop quartets and even a fully kilted bagpipe band were among the participants at last Saturday’s RV show at the Florida State Fairgrounds. Oh, plus more than a thousand homes-on-wheels which were the main attraction!

A forty minute drive from our RV park, the show was a three-day event touted to be the largest show of its kind in the USA. It must have taken days to get all the fifth wheels, trailers and motorhomes into position, parked nose to tail, in their appointed sections, to string miles of electrical wires to power them, and to lay out acres of carpeting to cover the wires. Potted plants and banners decorated the entrances to each RV company’s section, and eager sales people stood ready to deliver their spiels. Girls with flashing smiles handed out free tote bags to hold all the brochures people would be collecting – and to imprint their company’s name on the minds of passers-by.

John and Fawn and Val and I meandered through the grounds along with great throngs. I was surprised to see how many people had brought their dogs, until I remembered how fond RVers were of their pets in the many parks we’d stayed at in our travels. Why not bring Fido along? And what a huge variety there was: sleek greyhounds, sturdy boxers and a few tiny creatures being pushed along in their own doggie strollers! And dog owners are always eager to talk about their pets.

We were impervious to the unbelievable deals – today only! – because our RVing days are now behind us. But it was fascinating to see how many different models and sizes of units were out there, and the huge industry of accessories and related services that supports them. So, in addition to RVs, people were looking at furniture, name plates, lighting, and space-saving devices by the hundreds, as well as financing services and campgrounds near and far. There was also a booth selling elaborately decorated dog leashes by the hundreds – with eager buyers.

After tromping for some time, we stopped for a bite of lunch, lining up at a grilled chicken stand, where tender golden fingers sizzled over hot burners. Nice healthy food, we thought – but when I received our order (after waiting some time), it was heavily battered and fried in grease! Given the crush, we just shrugged and found a place to eat, where we peeled off the crust to enjoy the juicy meat inside. OK, I did crunch a bit of that tempting calorific stuff. At least we didn’t get the huge chicken piece dipped in batter, then Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes, and then deep fried. Yikes.

Kids with balloon animals, painted faces and sticky fingers from gooey treats passed by, and down the way we heard snatches of barbershop songs. Then in the distance came the skirl of bagpipes and a thumping drum, and the parade soon approached – a score of pipers with white spats and swinging kilts! Delightful!

Fawn announced that she’d surpassed 10,000 steps in all our tromping. My feet announced the same thing to me, wordlessly. We finally gave up waiting for the shuttle to take us to our car on the far side of the parking area and added a few dozen more steps. Still, a pleasant outing on our first warm day.

[Note to readers: We have no Wi-Fi in the park, so posting may be sporadic. We hope this will change!]