AAA and Great Clips

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Yesterday a freeway fire on Atlanta I85 made us nervous about Sunday, the first day of our drive back to Minnesota. After much discussion, we decided that it would be wise to change our route and go through Alabama rather than Georgia. We know from experience that Atlanta's ability to withstand any challenge to traffic volumes is, at the best, tenuous. A simple fender bender once Sunday afternoon a few years ago set us back at least an hour.

We dropped into AAA in St. Petersburg to discuss our proposed route. It was not our home AAA in Roseville, where the service is earnest but sometimes lacking. Agent Gail Walker is first rate: both knowledgeable and personable. She understood that Bob likes to support the GPS with a paper map. Gail printed and bound a TripTik on the spot and explained every page before sending us on our way with advice and AAA books for Alabama and Illinois. While we were at AAA, we even saw luggage that would meet our needs. AAA is really good resource for us in the St. Pete area.

After six weeks away from home, we both looked a little raggy around the face. We ducked into the Great Clips shop around the corner and had our hair trimmed. I feel so much better without the mop of curly hair on my head, most of it matted after a day in the wind.

We completed our errands at Publix and now it's time for a little dip in the pool.

Salt Rock Grill

IntraCoastal Waterway from the deck at Salt Rock Grill

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Linda and Gerard have a genius for good restaurants, and Salt Rock Grill. Linda had me at the promise of "dolphins swimming by the deck", and while the dolphins didn't make an appearance, the meal destination was an excellent choice.

We arrived some time before 4:00 p.m. and I felt somewhat alarmed by the sight of seniors milling about the lobby. Linda and Gerard had not yet arrived, so I got a pager, though I wondered if all of these hungry AARP types would ever get seated. I needn't have worried.

Soon after 4:00 o'clock, the herds were ushered in and we got our pager call soon after. We were seated in the far corner of the outside deck, where the only concern was a huge standalone fan blowing noisily across our table. I was almost surprised when the server agreed to turn it off, since it was a warm evening and there wasn't much natural air movement.

Turned out fine. Our dinner companions arrived soon, and we all ordered drinks: not-so-good red wine for Linda and me, a mojito for Gerard, and a highball scotch and soda for Bob. He usually has a lowball so the drink might have been a little too watered down for his taste.

Our meals were good -- seafood for three of us, filet mignon kabob for Bob. $14.90 each, including a scoop of ice cream for dessert. Best: the comfortable deck on the IntraCoastal Waterway, a great place to visit without having to shout or even raise one's voice. People walked along the boardwalk and the occasional large boat sailed by on a comfortably warm March evening.

It was our last visit with our friends and I felt a little nostalgic as we took our leave. I'm looking forward to next year already.

The End is Near

Sunset Beach

Hanging at Shells

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We've been enjoying our last week of summer -- till June or so. The weather has been gorgeous: low 80s, tolerable humidity. We spent several hours at the beach on Tuesday and again today. This afternoon, I threw caution to the wind after my first dip in the cool Gulf waters and didn't re-apply sunscreen, which I wear every day of the year. I'm a little red now, as I sit on the deck after a cool shower.

On Monday afternoon, we went back to O'Maddy's for a beer and an appetizer. Bob thinks the Plummer's Perfect Buffalo Wings were the best he ever tasted. On Tuesday, we had dinner at Leverock's (fish tacos for me, salmon for Bob; both good, not great).

Yesterday, we strolled on the boardwalk at Sunset Beach and stopped at Shells for happy hour. It was early, so we brought home an appetizer (peel & eat shrimp) and main course (shrimp 'n' scallop pasta). We had a late dinner on the deck, along with a bottle of wine, and then moved to the front deck overlooking Gulf Boulevard -- always good entertainment for people who like cars. Today, we're looking forward to a last meal with Linda and Gerard at Salt Rock Grill.

It's been a perfect week: doesn't get much better than this.

Time Warp

Cath, Lise, Karen, Linda

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I had been looking forward to a lunch organized by Linda O. for four of us Temiscaming alumnae. We met yesterday at Farmtable Kitchen, located on the second floor of Locale Market in St. Petersburg.

Linda, Karen and I were in the same class in high school; Lise is a few years younger. Linda and Karen have maintained their close friendship over the decades and I've loved a renewed friendship with Linda and her husband, from shared meals in Florida and hometown reunions in Gatineau. Lise and I are kindred spirits with many interests in common, shared on Facebook and occasional face-to-face meetings.

Yesterday's special treat was visiting with Karen, whom I haven't seen since I walked out of De La Salle High School 50 years ago. I was very fond of Karen's dad, Canadian ski champion Ole Bakkelund, who taught many of us young skiers the basics and coached the older ones for competition, especially in jumping. I found some old clippings here.

The four of us talked non-stop for several hours yesterday and marveled at the strong connections forged during those long ago years of childhood and adolescence. Anyone who grew up during the 50s and 60s in Temiscaming, a Canadian International Paper Company "company town", probably has memories that revolve mostly around outdoor activities like hockey, skating at the arena, swimming at the waterfront, skiing -- and many other sports, mostly financed through profits from the company-owned beer store.

Tantalizing but not explored, touched on briefly at the very end of our time together: we had all heard vague allusions to swinging in Temiscaming in the years before any of us were born. We knew a few names; Karen and I remembered our mothers opening up a little, but not enough to embarrass the living or speak ill of the dead.

We all have memories of one another's extended families and the many "characters" in our community: that's what small towns are like. When I left home at 17, I vowed I would never again live in a place where everyone knew where I was going the instant I turned one way or another coming out of my front door. It's ironic that so many years later, I remember with fondness the very situations I longed to escape.

Gerard, Neil and Bob talked happily about sports, politics and business at the end of the table. We all enjoyed a really good meal and promised to do it again.

Our visit was a highlight of this Florida vacation.

John's Pass Boat Ride

Pelicans in a tree

Photos.

Egrets

We usually go for at least one boat ride each visit and yesterday seemed like a good day. Sunny but not too hot. Breezy but not knock-you-off-your-feet windy. I left my jacket in the vehicle -- not quite a first for me, but I don't usually go on the water without a windbreaker. Gettin' wild and crazy, I guess.

I wasn't particularly careful about picking a boat. Hubbard's Marina looked good enough to me and we got to John's Pass just in time to buy tickets for a 90-minute ride, total $37 with the senior discount.

We saw dolphins almost as soon as we got out of the boardwalk area. There were at least five, but I really couldn't get a good photo so I gave up and simply enjoyed the ride. Almost every picture I took was really bad, mostly because large expanses of water made for boring photos. Others have done a better job with photos and videos than I: see Hubbard Marina FB page.

The major, magnificent exception was the Audubon island near John's Pass. The trees were full of egrets and herons of every kind and size and lots of pelicans. The pelicans seemed to keep to themselves. All the birds seemed very content but they really looked odd perched so high, when I'm used to seeing them on the beach or in the shallows. The narrator said there are even more birds at the end of the day, when they roost for the night.

They looked like decorations in a Christmas tree. It was the most extraordinary bird sighting I've ever experienced. I felt the way I did when I first saw sea lions on the rocky islands near Monterey Bay in California.

Gulfport Marina and Clam Bayou

Osprey chicks high in a nest

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Last March we drove all over Gulfport one hot afternoon , looking for Clam Bayou Nature Park (Where in the Heck is Clam Bayou?). I couldn't find it on the GPS (maybe cause it seems to have various names including or xcluding the words "shell", "park", "preserve" etc.), so we settled on viewing it from behind a fence across the water.

Yesterday we tried again, and got there -- not difficult at all, really, and close to the Gulfport Pier that we enjoy so much. I was happy to find the Gulfport Marina right next to the park. The pelicans were lounging around on the water's edge and one couple set out for a late afternoon sail, while a green-shirted guy rowed out to a sailboat anchored in the bay.

We went for a little walk through the park, crunching the shells on the path. A young fisherman and his girlfriend were throwing a net out for bait on one of the docks jutting out from the shore. They told us a dolphin had been jumping "a few minutes ago", but it didn't show up for us. Instead, we watched a great blue heron fish in the shallow water.

The real prize of the day was an osprey nest (high on a telephone-like pole, well into the park. I took a couple of pictures, hoping that my zoom would catch what my eye couldn't see. I didn't realize until yesterday evening that a pair adult ospreys were caring for two chicks. The little creatures look prehistoric and demanding. It's not easy being an osprey parent.

We ended the afternoon with a beer at Manatees on the Bay. Facebook page, no website. Vince the bartender is professional and friendly. The patrons were noisy but they were having a good time, as were we.

Mazzaro's Italian Market

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Scenes of Italy on the outside walls

We've been hearing about Mazzaro's for several years, but we didn't actually get the name and location right until yesterday. I thought it was some kind of tourist attraction (which it is), but I was happy to discover it is also a real Italian market. The smells remind me of Montreal's famous Jean-Talon Market and the little Italian storefront markets I used to visit in the north end when I lived in Montreal.

Mazzaro's is well stocked

We were directed to the market next door. What a place! It 's stocked with meat, cheese, seafood, dried and prepared pasta, Italian biscuits, crackers and desserts, and wines from all over. We settled on a pasta dish, cooked jumbo shrimp, sea scallops, and garlic bread. We sautéed the scallops, reheated the pasta in the microwave (not too satisfactory - I used the "dinner plate" function and the pasta was overdone), and oven warmed the bread. Tonight we have no shrimp left, but there is enough of everything else for another good meal.
We parked in the lot closest to the gift shop, packed full of somewhat gaudy Italian imports, kitchen ware, and various items one finds all over the country in similar shops. The place smelled of too many candle scents, reminiscent for me of Cracker Barrel Country Store and a long ago battle with a 10-year-old who refused to eat in the restaurant.


Now I know why Mazzaro's is a required stop in St. Petersburg.

Skyway Bridge

Skyway Bridge from the fishing pier

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I've written about the Skyway Bridge before. The weather was a little cooler this year, and there weren't very many fishermen/women on the pier. Bob saw a couple of dolphins fishing  but I missed them. Not much fishing action either. After missing an amberjack, one volatile fisherman swore loudly using many creative and entertaining versions of the f-word. We laughed, but I was glad we didn't have kids with us.

The bird in the middle is a big squawker

Beside our vehicle, an older guy was fishing for bait. He attracted a couple of egrets but did not share his catch with the birds. He kept to himself, despite Bob's attempts to catch his eye and engage in conversation.

As always, the bridge was lovely and gold. The birds on the other side of the pier fished in the shallow water. More perfect spring weather.

Spring

Sunset on March 20

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I always think of March 21 as the first day of spring, but apparently it was yesterday, March 20. Suddenly -- and this is probably my imagination -- sunset seems much later. This evening it's at 7:42 p.m.., 17 minutes later that it is at home on this day.

Yesterday was a transition day, partly spent lounging around the pool with Sonia and Jim. They left the condo shortly after 3:00 p.m. and the space suddenly seemed quiet and very empty. We had a lovely visit, with lots of interesting conversation and good meals.

This morning Boca Ciega Bay and the Gulf of Mexico are both calm and spring break traffic seems very light. It's 69F shortly after 11 a.m. We won't hit 80F until later in the week.

Corey Avenue Sunday Market

Fresh Florida fruit

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and I went to the Corey Avenue Sunday Market yesterday morning. We were fairly early so the street was still cool and the wonderful Florida produce was fresh and colorful. Street vendors are similar everywhere, but here the jewelry is a little different and fabrics are bright and airy. Felt a little like South Beach, with somewhat less of a Latin feel.

Brian Neale

I was tempted to get Bob some nut (peanut, cashew, almond) butter but it was very sweet and too expensive ($18 for a 16-oz jar) to buy on a whim. He's very fussy about his peanut butter and I've never really figured out what makes peanut butter good (texture? sweetness? taste? all of these?). So I didn't buy it.

Best for me: the entertainment. There's a sameness in street entertainment that I often find tedious, so I was pleasantly surprised at Brian Neale's voice, guitar, repertoire and simple sound system. I think I'll download some of his music.

Pool Therapy

When the pool is full, I become a floater like everyone else

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On Sunday, I did my lap swimming early, as I'm both selfish about my pool time and unwilling to disturb the "soakers and chatters" -- pretty much all pool users. Swimming is great for the mind and not bad for the body either.

Most of my swimming is upper body these days, due to a "chair injury" when we were in Cocoa Beach. It was one one of those recliners with a manual lever to recline the chair. To get out, I needed to whack my thighs against the seat to put it back into position. After a week of whacking, I ended up with what I self-diagnosed as a right side gluteus maximus injury. In the beginning, pain and muscle spasms extended all the way down to my ankle. Fortunately, the hot tub helps and so does restricting my leg movement in the water. I hate to swim that way but it has helped the sore butt.

I was better today and used my legs more. Sure makes for an easier swim.

Good Weather Saturday

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After a cold week, Saturday morning looked promising. Fairly warm, early on, and bright Florida sun. We got an early start and were at John's Pass by 11:00 a.m. We've been there many times, and have always seen dolphins -- but not yesterday. The area was actually quite empty, and most activities (boat rides, jet ski rentals, fishing ...) were available.

We walked through the main tourist area, up the ramp to the famous boardwalk. We had lunch at Bubba Gump's and left the area soon after. I like the shade but by the time lunch was over, I was freezing cold and was happy to bask in the sun for a few minutes.

Kites on the beach

We walked a little on the Sunset Beach boardwalk and went to 4:00 p.m. mass at St. John Vianney. I think the ADD must have kicked in because the homily seemed interminable. Couldn't wait to get out of there.

We had dinner at reliable Leverock's. My salmon was good but I think I preferred last week's mahi-mahi tacos. Drinks were good all round.

Best: kites on the beach at Treasure Island.

St. Patrick's Day in Gulfport

Pedal Pub on the Water

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In recent years, we've usually been in Florida for St. Patrick's Day. The weather is often sweltering -- which seems plain wrong when the choices should be "hat or headband, winter jacket with or without liner, scarf or not, gloves or mittens, sunglasses or transitions ...".

Yesterday dawned quite chilly and I decided that I needed my light Vikings jacket (long ago freebie from Sports Illustrated. Bob opted for a polo with a green tee under it; Sonia wore a jacket and Jim compromised with long sleeves. By mid-afternoon, I shoved the jacket in my purse and wondered if I had worn enough sunscreen.

Jet Pack Guy

The celebration in Gulfport seemed more subdued than parties we've witnessed in recent years. The entertainment was more Neil Young and James Taylor than traditional Irish, but the music was well played with a decent (but not great) sound system. We had the corned beef and cabbage at O'Maddy's (OK if you like that kind of thing, but not as good as the one I make for Bob and Chris most years).

My attitude is curmudgeonly: I detest big hats and gaudy plastic jewelry, along with dyed hair and spray painted beards. Green beer seems disgusting and I've never had one. I did enjoy a Guinness at Manatees on the Bay (FB page here; no website).

Best: the company (Bob, Sonia, Jim); people watching, especially the skilled athlete marketing the jet pack experience.

Children of the Light

We've been going to mass on lenten Wednesday mornings. It's the weekly St. John Vianney School mass, and I used to love hearing the children's choir on those days, directed by a really good teacher. This program seems to have disappeared, at least temporarily, and I miss the music , except this weeek. On Wednesday, Fr. Eugene O'Reilly, the Canadian Redemptorist preaching the parish mission, taught the kids a song, Children of the Light, that is fairly well-known among those who follow Catholic schools and modern liturgical music.

It's a little "bubbly-gummy", but catchy. Fr. O'Reilly is a good teacher and pitted boys against girls in a strategy that actually got even middle-school boys to sing. I do like the simple lyrics.

Quick Trip

The trip home went well. Even though I didn't sleep much, I woke up quite refreshed and had no waiting time at my University of MInnesota clinic. I picked up held mail at the post office on West 7th Street, sorted through it, and got to the bank.

Bob's daughter Sonia left me fruit and yogurt, all very welcome since I had nothing in the house except beer, booze, wine and Girl Scout cookies. She had also turned up the thermostat: I'd underestimated how cold the air would feel and it was great to walk into a warm house.

I spent a couple of hours at MSP before my flight. I had lunch (delicious vegan black bean soup) at the French Meadow Bakery along with a Jack Daniels & diet coke. My seat companions were both very tall, with large frames, so the ride down felt a little cramped but the wind got us into TPA shortly after 8:00 p.m., ahead of schedule, so early that we had to wait for jetway placement. We were home by about 9:30.

Total time, door-to-door: 27 hours.

Intersections

See Bad Saturday in Paradise.

I've always been fascinated by Six Degrees of Separation and similar theories about coincidences, parallels and intersections. I never expected to really know what happened in the parasailing fatality last Saturday. I wonder what the chances were that I would sit beside an eyewitness on Monday night's flight to Minnesota?

We drove to Tampa International in a rainstorm so heavy that we couldn't see the water driving across the Howard Frankland Bridge. I breezed through security with a TSA pre-check boarding pass and got to the gate about two hours before the scheduled departure time. Because of storms all over the east coast, many flights were delayed so seating was limited in almost every boarding area.

By the time our plane left the gate, we were already an hour behind schedule. I was tired and so were my seatmates, a young mom and her precocious almost-8-year-old daughter. Their lively conversation entertained and distracted me, so I didn't even think about the long Tuesday ahead.

Even though it was getting late, I decided to have a drink and persuaded my neighbor to have one too. We started talking. Despite the difference in our ages, KP and I were very compatible and each of us managed to tell a condensed version of her life story.

I learned that KP been on the beach last Saturday morning when the parasail operator drowned. Her friend, KK, a Minnesota nurse, rushed to the assistance of the unconscious "Captain Tom", Thomas Howell of Gulfport. KK slipped and cut her leg on the exposed propeller; she was the second person I saw in one of the ambulances on Saturday, with an injury that required 25 stitches. The 16-year-old parasailer was not injured.

Because of the fatal outcome, I'd decided not to publish my pictures of the events following the incident, photographed from the our balcony several hundreds away. However, under the circumstances, I was happy to share them with KP. Because of her, I'll always feel connected to Captain Tom and the courageous KK.

Minnesota Bound

Every eight weeks, Ito to M-Health (University of Minnesota) to receive an infusion of Entyvio, a treatment for Crohn's Disease. I had hoped that I would be able to get the treatment here in the Tampa-St. Pete area, but the stars didn't align My doctor insists on the importance of staying within the 8-week interval, so I wasn't inclined to tempt fate by waiting until my return to Minnesota three weeks from now.

I booked a $128 Spirit Airlines round-trip leaving tonight, returning tomorrow evening. I'll be in Minnesota for about 16 hours: long enough to get some sleep, spend a couple of hours at the U, get the mail, and go to the bank. Other duties may come up during the course of the day.

The weather in Minnesota has turned wintry, but so far my flight looks like a "go" and I shouldn't have any trouble getting around the city when I'm home. Bob will drop me off and pick me up, so I don't have to worry about ground transportation to and from Tampa International.

Today is cool and cloudy, so I don't feel too regretful leaving Florida., but I suppose 18F will feel like a shock at midnight.

Bad Saturday in Paradise

It was a bad Saturday morning for a couple of families.

Emergency response seemed prompt and professional

When we were getting out of the pool Saturday morning we heard emergency vehicles arriving in the parking lot at TradeWinds across the street. We could see action on the beach -- uniformed fire, police and EMT personnel hovered around two areas on either side of a red SUV on the beach.

We couldn't really determine what had happened, and the Pinellas County website simply described the call as "medical", but it looked as though one of the parasail boats could have been involved. Every time I see parasailers floating in the sky, I worry about "something bad" happening: bad landing on a boat getting tangled in ropes, hard fall into the water ... the list is endless. I know of several injuries or near injuries, and since this activity doesn't seem to be very well regulated anywhere, I tend to assume the worst will happen. This time it did.

We watched for about 20 minutes, until two ambulances left the parking lot, sirens blaring. Today a man at the pool told us someone had drowned in the Gulf yesterday morning. The news story indicates that the operator of a parasail boat had fallen in the water as a result of a medical emergency. He wasn't wearing a lifejacket and he drowned. I suspect that yesterday's two ambulances were transporting the parasailer (alive and sitting up when I saw her) and the operator, whom I didn't see.

Feeling sad on this lovely Florida Sunday.

Grand Prix Racing in the Streets

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St. Petersburg street is blocked off for pre-race events

We always like checking out pre-race activities before the St. Petersburg Grand Prix. When we were having lunch, we could hear the unmistakable sound of engines several blocks away so we went to investigate.

Yesterday's event wasn't on the event schedule so it must have been some kind of trial. The cars were NASCAR vehicles, not the open-wheel Indycars that will race on Sunday. We watched for awhile from behind a fence protected by tires on the ground. Sure enough one drive spun out not far from us. I should have been more informed about what I was watching but I enjoyed it anyway.

Lunch at The Canopy

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We'd each had a plateful before I thought to snap this shot

Last winter, Bob noticed people milling about on a rooftop and wondered whether they were having lunch in a rooftop restaurant. I didn't pay much attention at the time and had, in fact, totally forgotten what had apparently been on his mind for almost a year.

Yesterday he was determined to find the place and sure enough, people seemed to be overlooking the street from the roof near out parking spot on Beach Drive. The hostess at the sidewalk restaurant pointed to the elevator and told us to take to the top floor, where the menu would b the same as, or similar to, the one downstairs.

And that's how we ended up at The Canopy. We sat on a comfortable couch under a canopy, where we had a good view of beautiful Tampa Bay. Our server, Alison, was pleasant and prompt with our drink order: when I asked my usual question about dark beers, she actually knew the answer and brought me an off-menu choice -- and I wish I could remember the name because it was delicioius.

Rather than have lunch, we chose the cheese and charcuterie plate: smoked gouda, bleu cheese, Wisconsin cheese curds, freshly sliced prosciutto, Genoa salami, sliced toasted almonds. A basket of thin chips was the perfect accompaniment and we got through every wonderful bite of food.

The people watching is great and we did our usual analysis of the family dynamics of a group near us. The Canopy would be  a good venue for a special celebration; the specialty cocktails looked yummy and the overall ambience is relaxed but very professional.

Lunch with Friends and High School Memories

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One of my favorite Florida traditions is lunch with Linda and Gerard, who live in Ottawa and winter in St. Petersburg.

Linda and Cath at BJ's

Linda and I went to school together in our hometown of Temiscaming,  Québec. As we enjoyed our excellent  meal at BJ's in Pinellas Park, my pleasant conversation with Linda triggered a long ago memory of our tenth grade class at De La Salle High School.

We had a teacher who hid bottles of booze in the toilet tank in the small bathroom next to our homeroom. By mid-afternoon most days, Mr. D. was very drunk and we didn't learn much math or anything else. We were a rowdy bunch and he kept us in stitches with stories and pontification, especially when he got off on a rant, which was quite often. Once a Jesuit, he was fond of philosophical arguments like how many angels on a pinhead. He had a devotion to St. Joseph Cupertino, patron saint of idiots, and St. Simeon Stylites, who spent many years on some kind of pole. One wild afternoon, Mr. D. declared that the Orient was in the west, and that day I knew we were really doomed if we hoped to pass out of Grade 10 math.

Mr. D. was fired in January after a hospitalization that followed a drunken parade through our town in his pajamas. By then, our class had fallen hopelessly behind in the subjects that counted, and we never really did catch up, in spite of the efforts of teachers at Temiscaming High School who had us foisted on them mid-year.

Linda and I had a classmate, Maureen Brophy, whose dad took of us on, with the goal of bringing us up to speed in algebra and geometry.  I smile as I think of us around the Brophys' kitchen table: Maureen, Karen, Linda and I, all at different levels with varying degrees of interest in the subject matter -- quite a challenge for anyone, but Mr. Brophy was undaunted and persistent.

He was an engineer with lots of patience and a flair for teaching. He tutored us two or three nights a week after work, going  back several months in the curriculum and tackling current homework. By the end of the school year, we had pretty much caught up and were ready to go on to the next grade.

Yesterday's lunch with Linda renewed my connection to that little group of teenage girls and the cheerful dad who got us through tenth grade math half a century ago.

Car Wash

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Bob likes a clean car. The first year we were married, I was introduced to the ritual of the manual car wash. There was a lot of snow that winter, and at least once a week we headed out to the car wash next door to McDonalds in the West Seventh neighborhood of St. Paul. The instructions were detailed and onerous, from how to kick ice out from under the car to window washing methodology. Bob used a real sponge in those days, and I threw it at him when he got too picky about my work. "Do it yourself", I yelled.

My skills have improved since then and I have assisted in the washing of many a vehicle. Bob has been unhappy for about a week, as the Traverse got progressively more dusty and, yes, dirty. Today we went to a car wash on Pasadena Boulevard, a few miles from our resort. Bob had me wash while he sprayed with a high pressure wand. At one point, he got a little wild and I was soon quite wet. My glasses were fogged up and I couldn't see a thing.

My temper must have mellowed in the thirty-four years I've been washing cars with him. I simply laughed and cleaned my glasses. Our Chevy is by far the cleanest vehicle in the parking lot.

Rite of Election

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In the Catholic Church, people who are preparing to enter the Church often do so at the Easter Vigil , when they receive the Easter sacraments: baptism, first communion, and confirmation. Those previously baptized make a profession of faith and celebrate first communion and confirmation.

The first big formal step in the process of becoming Catholic at the Easter Vigil is the "rite of election". This ceremony is usually celebrated at the Cathedral of the diocese on the First Sunday of Lent, during which catechumens (an old name restored to general usage by Vatican II) declare their desire for baptism. Previously baptized Christians indicate their desire for full communion with the Catholic Church.

I'm always amazed at the number of people enrolled in RCIA classes wherever we travel. St. Pete Beach is no exception, and yesterday we witnessed the "sending" of this year's RCIA class to the "rite of election" at St. Jude Cathedral in St. Petersburg. The ceremony was simple. The catechumens were accompanied by their godparents or sponsors and they received a simple cross around their necks. The congregation applauded. Everyone smiled. I wondered whether the mixed group of future Catholics would find what they are looking for in the Catholic Church.

The diocesan Office of Communications published photos right away. The ceremony looks like a mix of formality, with the bishop in full regalia, and informality, with some participants in jeans. I guess the Catholic Church is flexible enough for plenty of diversity. I sure hope so.

Sea Critters Fix

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Saturday was sunny but extremely windy and we didn't stay long at Land's End on Pass-a-Grille Beach. The construction project begun last year continues: some of the signs indicate underground energy but it seems like an overhaul of sewers as well. The entire area is so dusty and slow to navigate that we've stayed away most days. However, work was suspended for the weekend and the dust had settled temporarily.

We had a late lunch at Sea Critters, where the black beans and rice were as good as I remembered, but the salmon was a little dry -- better reheated the next day. The outside tables were filled to capacity so we ate inside, with a good view of Boca Ciega Bay.

Bob ordered a couple of Sea Critters' famous happy hour margaritas and I had two glasses of sangria -- one too many because I felt a little drunk for the rest of the day.

Manatee Mating Herd

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A few years ago when we were here, manatee mating lasted several frantic days. This week, I saw what seemed to be a single animal in the water but by yesterday, several others had arrived.

Yesterday afternoon, several manatees were frolicking out beyond the dock and I took some pictures, mostly from our sixth floor balcony. Mating seems to be a group activity among manatees; I think there were three of them yesterday.

I tried to be discreet: they deserve a little privacy. There is something very endearing about a manatee with its flipper around a companion, and it's always good to know that a beloved marine mammal is reproducing as it should.

Sunny Day under "The Big Chill"

Sun and sand

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The "cold front" arrived yesterday morning. I must be a little snow: I felt quite self satisfied, knowing that my gloves are available "in case of need". Of course, the cold front is warm by Minnesota standards and, though it's still chilly,  I am sitting on the  balcony waiting for full sunrise. No gloves required.

We had a tasty lunch of somewhat greasy grouper nuggets -- a shared appetizer -- at Caddy's on the Beach at Treasure Island. After lunch, I walked on the boardwalk near Sunset Beach, a little swiftly because Bob was waiting for me at the fishing dock, and I knew there weren't many people to talk to, so boredom would be setting in and he'd want to be moving on.

When I arrived at the car, Bob was wiping blood off his arm. A frisky puppy had scratched him with his big claws and I immediately started worrying about rabies. I looked it up, and while transmission is possible, it's very unlikely. I didn't share this information, as he would immediately start foaming at the mouth. The dog scratch is healing so I'll just keep my fingers crossed on the rabies issue.

We had dinner ($10 per person for fish, fries, cole slaw, hush puppies, water or pop, and dessert) at our favorite vacation church, the  very welcoming parish of St. John Vianney. The weekly Lenten fish fry is a major fundraiser attended by people (mostly seniors) from all the  over country. We met couples from Delray Beach, Pennsylvania and Indianopolis in the short time we were there. The fried fish looked really good but I  had the baked fish meal, all prepared by The Friendly Fisherman in John's Pass. Wine is available for a "donation", and I should have tried a glass from one the bottles, all open on a makeshift bar so you know what you're getting.

We saw the very end of the sunset on the beach across the street.

Snowbirds

Photos.

We were asked twice yesterday if we were "northerners" (Winn-Dixie) or "snowbirds" (Walgreens). At Winn-Dixie, it was obvious that we were unfamiliar with the store, so I understood the question. I asked the cashier at Walgreens if our accents were the tip-off. "No", she said. "It's your purchases".

I was almost speechless: we bought liquid hand soap, disinfectant wipes, shampoo (one for Bob and one for me), AYR nasal gel, M7Ma -- a few other items I can't remember. Northern items, I guess.

Osprey Nest

Photos.

We looked for our osprey pair as soon as we arrived at the condo. We couldn't detect a nest in the tree across the bay and saw no birds, so we concluded the birds had relocated (or worse). We were wrong.

After an early afternoon outing to Gulfport for lunch, we sat out on the balcony for a cup of tea before a late day swim. And there she was, our large female perched on the nesting tree. Later on, we saw the male in the same spot. Sure enough, as the crows roosted in their nighttime trees all along the shore, they swarmed around the tree.

I wonder if there are eggs in the nest yet. The crows love to snack on the eggs and they're so clever, especially working as a pack, that I do a little hand wringing every time I see them swoop in the direction of the ospreys' tree. The phrase "murder of crows" always comes to mind for these smart, well trained assassins.

Same View ... Different Year

Boca Ciega Bay

Photos.

We checked in shortly between noon and 1:00 p.m. yesterday and we were handed our keys. "Wow", I thought, "this never happens". Well, it didn't happen. The apartment door was open and I quickly realized that the space hadn't yet been cleaned. The cleaning lady was eating a doughnut outside the next unit. She said she had dropped our cleaning job because an owner had arrived and that unit took priority. I can't see why, since we are paying customers and I had just put a big charge on our credit card. No matter. We dumped our things and went out for lunch and groceries.

I rather miss the beautiful apartment we had in Cocoa Beach, but this is fine too. Of course, I'm something of a fanatic and I find myself wanting to wash the dishes in the cupboard and clean everything with disinfectant, which I always do the first couple of days. I won't be able to resist refolding all the towels either ... and, as I re-read this paragraph, I wonder how crazy I really am. 

It's morning now and I'm waiting on the deck for sunrise. On the point to my right, I recognize the little terrier from previous years, out for an early morning walk in the fresh air with his young mistress. No osprey nest this year -- they must finally have realized that the crows would never leave their nest alone. I'm sure the crows will find some other birds to torture today: the head crow is shrieking loudly, calling his gang to morning meeting.

All is pretty good in my world.

New Day

Cocoa Beach to St. Pete Beach

Photos.

We'll soon say goodbye to Cocoa Beach. When we were last here in 2010, the weather was unseasonably cold, and I wore my fleece jacket many days. We stayed at the Hilton that year, and I was often the only person in the pool.

I remember passers-by looking at the cane I was still using after my knee replacement; I figured they were wondering how I would manage in the pool. No problem, though getting out of the water was a challenge the first time I tried it. I abandoned the cane on that trip, after regaining my confidence on non-icy terrain.

Our route today is mostly familiar on this already warm day.