Dear Reader: Yes, my last post was on April 23rd. It is now June 24th. I won’t give into the temptation to say, “I don’t know where the time went!” I know exactly where it went. My grandchildren were visiting from Germany for three months, and my husband and I relocated from a rental apartment in Sausalito to a house in San Francisco that we have owned for years.
Fortunately, I am not without a travel tale and its requisite quest! Read on.
For those three months, I was fully focused on family and packing. Then family and unpacking. The stress was palpable. When the kids were here I didn’t see how we could get a house that had been a rental for thirty years fixed before we moved in. We were good landlords and the house was in good shape, but tenants leave holes on walls and do things like paint the bathroom tiles chartreuse when you’re not looking.
The day my son-in-law was going to help me paint a room or two, the baby came down with a fever of 105°F. He was a very sick little boy and needed to be held all day. He was listless for four days before he perked up. He tested negative for Covid, but a body rash let us know he had Roseola. Concern for the baby kept us all on tenterhooks for the duration. He made a full recovery in time to fly home to Germany, at which time I took advantage of the empty house to at least paint the bedrooms.
We have now completed the move, and are about 95% unpacked. I cleared enough space to vacuum the entirety of my office floor today - a major feat. Not a box in sight! I’m feeling relieved that we may have a cheery looking house quicker than I thought.
Six days after we moved, dear friends arrived for a three day visit from New York. We planned on their visit last January long before we learned we’d be moving to the city. By the time they arrived, I managed to create pathways between boxes through each room to every other room.
Our friends contributed tremendously with unpacking and making meals. After five days, the four of us abandoned the remaining unpacked boxes to fly to Sarasota, Florida for a long anticipated reunion with John’s college classmates.
My quest for the Florida trip was simple: to swim every day, preferably in the Gulf, and to see real, live pink flamingos. Since this was the first trip I had ever been on within the U.S. without renting a car, I knew this quest would be subject to the needs of our friends with cars. Luckily, my quest was mostly fulfilled. I sank my toes into the fine, white sand and waded out in the warm, shallow Gulf water which was never deeper than two feet, but deep enough to swim comfortably. On the days we couldn’t get to the beach, we made use of a lovely salt water pool.
On the morning of our last day in Florida, we went to the Sarasota Jungle Gardens. The Gardens feature a flock of flamboyant pink flamingos. Some of the exhibits at the Gardens were hokey, but the flamingoes did not disappoint. They strut their pinkness and come up to leer at you from one side of their head. They have no fear of humans and eat pellets, right out of your hand. Flamingos are beautiful, prehistoric looking and ridiculous in such a distinctly pink way. Plus, in writing this post, I learned that plural “flamingos” do not have an “e” as in tomatoes or potatoes.
Dear reader, I vow to resume posting at least every two weeks, share adventures on Instagram, and catch up on my restaurant reviews for Google. Now that I have my Passion Planner to help me focus and keep me motivated, I should be more consistent. I know that if I’m not true to my own goals, what can I be true to? Well, plenty actually, but my true hope is to encourage you, through my writing, to travel.
What have you been up to for the last couple of months?
If you’ve read any of my other posts, is there any topic you’d like for me to write more about? Let me know!
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