The Cool Kids

 Out to Eat With “The Cool Kids”

 

My husband, Mike, and I attended the same high school. We graduated the same year. We knew many of the same people. 

Some of our fellow students were “cool kids.” Some of the “cool kids” were friends of mine, though I never was what I would call “cool.” 

Mike says he wasn’t one of the cool kids either. 

 

Not being one of the “cool kids” didn’t matter to us. Though the two of us never dated each other in school or even traveled much in the same social circles back then, we were both people who pretty much accepted ourselves for who we were. We were alike in that way.

 

Then, this past April, we married.  I’ll put a link in at the bottom of this post about our wedding.

 

We bought a house and moved to Inverness. Our house is on the Tsala Apopka Chain of Lakes. We are loving it! 

 

ü The view is beautiful.

ü  I’m learning to really fish. (Not just throw a line in the water with a worm on the other end.)

ü  There is an unequaled peacefulness about this place.

ü  It is fun to pick out furniture and make this our home.

 

Those are only a few reasons we wake up each morning feeling blessed beyond measure.

 

Recently, Mike suggested we go out for lunch. It had been a rough week. My car had to spend over a week in the shop. Life without wheels is tough. Sure, I drove the truck to the store, but I was still frustrated without my own little car. There were computer issues as well. That is never a good thing. My sleep was off, so I was tired.

 

When Mike suggested we go out for lunch, my spirits lifted. A mid-week date? Now that’s fun. 

He gave me two choices. Both were great venues, but one was one I’d only heard of, never tried. The other, Lollygaggers, is a favorite of ours, but we had just been there after church on Sunday.

 

I chose the new one. It’s called The Cove. It isn’t far from our house.

 

The Cove is a great restaurant with a comfortable atmosphere and delicious food. I was excited to try it. Mike had been there one other time right after we bought the house, but before our wedding. I was still in Ohio. 

 

We climbed into the boat and took off. The sun was shining. The breeze was blowing. 

As we skimmed across the water to the restaurant, I turned to Mike and said, “I don’t know about you, but I feel like one of the “cool kids.”

 

We slowed down to pull into the waterway leading to the restaurant. Actually, there are two water routes. One is for airboats and one for powerboats. You can get to the waterfront venue by car as well, but where’s the fun in that? 

 

Our "Road" to the Cove Restaurant

We “parked” the boat, tying it to a cypress root and hiked the shady path to the restaurant. The atmosphere was fun and the food delicious. 

We Were Early, So Parking Wasn't a Problem

I can’t think of anything better than a lunch date at “The Cove” via a boat ride.

 

It took us less than ten minutes or so to get there…and only some fifty years or so become the “cool kids.” 

But the wait was worth it.

Yep, that's the restaurant
peeking through the Cypress Trees

Here's that link I promised about our wedding: CLICK HERE There are a few pictures from the event at the end of that post.

 

 

It's Called Fishin'

 It’s Called Fishin’

 

My first memory of fishing was with my grandpa and grandma in a pond on their farm. I was seven years old. I remember the cane pole and line with a worm on the end. I remember the little red and white bobber I watched patiently until it ducked under and I jerked the pole to catch my first fish.

 

I didn’t really fish again until my family moved to Florida. My mom and dad both loved to fish the lake where we lived in a little town called Lutz.  On occasion, especially if we had friends or family visiting from the north, we joined a charter boat out of Tarpon Springs to go deep sea fishing. That was fun, but I was a teenager by then and found the boat ride, sun, and tan Greek boys about my age more entertaining than dropping a line in the water. 

 

My late husband, Tom, liked to fish but he enjoyed water skiing more. I tried my hand at fishing a few times at his family’s lake house using a Zebco reel and a rod Tom gave me. I never felt as if I were a true fisherman… uh…fisherwoman…whatever..., though I liked the water and the sunshine.

 

In April of this year, I married an honest to goodness fisherman. Mike has fished all over Florida. He won tournaments with big prizes, like money and boats. He considered trying the professional tour, but it’s a hard life with no guarantees. Still, the man knows fishing.

 

Mike and I bought a home on a beautiful Florida lake. Actually, he toured it while I was still living in Ohio. We made the offer and bought it. (If you missed the post how we bought the house without me there, I’ll post a link to “Sight Unseen” at the end of this one.)

 

Our home is on a big…make that… BIG lake. After the offer was accepted, Mike took a boat to the public ramp and toured the lake. He called me and sounded like a kid at Christmas. 

 

“Becky, this lake is beautiful!” He told me about the areas he explored and how he ate lunch at a restaurant on the lake “only seven minutes from our house by boat…idling!”

 

I knew he was happy and that made me happy. I envisioned every cove and tree, bridge and boat ramp as he described his journey over the phone. A couple of hours later, Mike called me back from his house in Lutz with exciting news. The rods and reels he ordered for me had arrived! 

 

I didn’t even know he ordered fishing equipment for me. It was an unexpected gift. He bought a Zebco reel with a rod and a spinner reel as well. He bought the Zebco because he knew I had used one before. He wanted me to have success with my casting. The spinner is there when I’m ready.

 

We’ve now enjoyed several evenings standing on the dock casting a line in the water. I’m okay at casting, but I have yet to hook a fish. Mike catches a little bass nearly every time we try. He makes it look easy. He throws them back. I would, too…If I ever managed to catch one. 

 

One of Mike's First Catches Off Our Dock

I’m learning though. I’m learning there is much more to fishing than catching fish.  I’m learning to be patient. Fishing is learning to relax and enjoy the peacefulness of the evening sun on the water.

 

I told Mike what I was learning. He just grinned and said, “Yep, it’s called fishin'. It’s not called catching.”

I didn't catch it,
but Mike let me
reel this little guy in...:)

Here is the link to "Sight Unseen." And yes, we did buy the house without me seeing it in person.

 

 

 

One Teaspoon At A Time

One Teaspoon at a Time

Ever play the game “telephone” or “gossip” where one person whispers a sentence to another person next to him or her and it goes around a circle? In the end, the sentence is generally distorted. It’s fun to see how the words or meaning change. This post may be a bit like that game.

 

My father told me a story once about a conversation between Churchill and Stalin. That was long before the internet. I can’t find any reference to it at all. But the story has guided me through many daunting tasks in life. So, in the spirit of trying to pass on a bit of good advice, I’m sharing it here.

 

As the story goes, Churchill and Stalin met. They were walking by a pool of water left from a fountain. Stalin purportedly challenged the Prime Minister of England by saying, “You are such a small country. How do you propose to win such a big war?”

 

Churchill sat down by the pool and pulled out a teaspoon. (I guess tea drinkers carry their own spoons…uh…back to the story… )

 

Anyway, Churchill pulled out the teaspoon, dipped it in the pool, and poured the water on the ground. He looked up at Stalin and said “One teaspoon at a time.”

 

I’ve leaned into that story often. 

 

Getting through college? One semester at a time. Sometimes one assignment at a time…or simply one lecture.

 

Raising a family? One moment at a time. One school year. One crisis at a time.

 

Writing a book? Same thing. One word at a time. Writing for me starts with a simple idea. The idea is captured in a single sentence. Soon, I’m crafting characters to carry out the notion I’ve set forth. They, like real people, run into obstacles and I have to bail them out…one paragraph at a time.

 

You get the idea. Whether it is planting a garden, building a dollhouse …no, make that three dollhouses …for my granddaughters, crocheting an afghan, or writing a novel, life is a step-by-step, moment-by-moment process.

Inspire me...and others. Share your own "one teaspoon at a time experience." We'll let Winston keep his. 

Plodding Along at a Gallop

Plodding Along at a Gallop 

It is Tuesday evening. It has been a busy week. I should be going to bed, but here I sit trying to create a blog post. For tomorrow. Yes, I said tomorrow. It’s not that I don’t have plenty to write about. As I said, it has been a busy week.

 

This is the first week since the wedding I have been back in Ohio to see my family here. I arrived a week ago and Mike joined me on Friday.

It has been a good week.

 

We were able to time our visit so that we could celebrate my grandson’s graduation with family and friends. 

We took the opportunity to go to my youngest daughter’s house and see the progress she and her husband have made on their remodeling (read: rebuilding) project. 

We enjoyed a “pizza night” with my mom.

We saw a few friends at our Ohio church.

 

Connecting with our Ohio family and friends is good, but we had work to do as well. 

 

Now that we have a home in Florida, we knew there were a few items we needed to bring from the Ohio house to our new house on the lake. It has been a week to sort and pack and rethink our needs. 

 

I had to go to the bank and a few other places to change my name. Officially.

 

Mike was busy, too. He fixed the riding lawn mower and cut the tall grass. Even that small project involved a trip to a couple of stores for parts. We had some other maintenance projects to address, so our few days in Ohio have been packed with activity.

 

Isn’t it the way of life? If we are moving forward, we are in a constant state of change. It can be tiring or invigorating, depending on your viewpoint.

 

As I type this, I am looking forward to a sound night of sleep before we begin our trek back to Florida, yet, I am energized. 

 

We are not plodding along in life waiting for whatever happens next. We are taking steps forward. Like my grandson, Spencer, we have “graduated” from one phase of life experiences and are taking on new challenges as we build a life together.

The year ahead is filled with promise. 

What will the rest of 2023 bring? I don't know, but each day I pray for the challenges to become positive experiences. How about you? 

 

 

 

Home is Where the Lake Is

Home is Where the Lake Is

You, my readers, may remember a post in early April called “Sight Unseen.” In it I shared the story of how Mike, prior to our wedding, found a house for us on a lake in Florida. I was living in Ohio. Still, we put it under contract without me seeing it. If you missed that one, I’ll share the link at the end of this post. 

 

I have now seen the house.

 

Not only that, Mike and I have moved in…into a dream.

Note… Not a nightmare. A dream.

 

Not that it’s fancy.

Not that it’s a mansion.

It is “Just Right.” 

 

Okay, maybe that sounds a bit like Goldilocks, but the truth is the truth. This place is perfect for us.

 

We moved in slowly. One piece at a time. The dining room set my new sister-in-law offered us looks as if it was made for the space. Some chairs she donated to the cause appear as if they were designed for the small square table Mike already had. We put it in the breakfast nook. We bought new bedroom furniture along with a couple of sofas and televisions and moved in. 

 

We’re still learning about the house. Although we were initially told our lake is called Henderson, we have since learned we are situated on Lake Tsala Apopka. It is one in a chain of lakes called the Tsala Apopka Chain. After church on Sunday, we took a boat ride through several of the lakes, including Henderson. It is all unbelievably beautiful. I literally giggled and grinned the entire time. 

 

As I write, I am sitting outside, watching Mike cut the grass.

Calling this
"My Office with a View."

 

But it isn’t about the house or the furniture or the lake or even the view. 

 

It’s about that settled feeling you experience when you know you are “home.” 

That feeling of rest opposed to restlessness.

That breathing of fresh air sprinkled with sunshine.

 

Home is where you find peace in a world filled with pressure and tension, and chaos. It is…or always should be…that safe haven you crave when everyone else seems to be going crazy.

 

And for me? Home is sitting outside, looking out over the lake, and writing my blog. The American flag near our dock sways with the lakeside wind.  The Spanish moss, hanging from tree branches canopying the lawn, moves like delicate gray lace in the gentle breeze. 

Spanish Moss in the Magnolias

 

Mike is still mowing. (Probably because he likes driving his new lawn tractor.)

 

Anyone can buy a house. A house is brick and mortar. 

 

A home is created when it is furnished with love and peacefulness… and a little Spanish moss swaying in the magnolia trees by the lake. 

 

Well, a guy can only mow so much....
Right?

 

To read how Mike bought the house without me first seeing it, CLICK HERE

 

 

The Pickup Truck

 The Pickup Truck

My husband, Mike, drives a big pickup truck. For me, it’s a climb to get into the front seat. The make and model?  A Ford F-250 4X4 (whatever that means…) and it’s a diesel. 

 

That truck can apparently haul anything we need to haul. It is a great vehicle.

 

The truck was a blessing the time Mike came to see me in Ohio and it snowed. Mike was born and raised in Florida where he has never had to drive in snow. Still, I climbed in the truck beside him and buckled up without a thought that this could be a challenge for a Florida boy. It wasn’t. He drove through the white stuff falling down and accumulating all around us without the least concern. 

 

Later, when I asked why it didn’t bother him, he said if the snow started to get deep he’d just put it in “4-wheel drive high” (whatever that means…) and it could handle it.

 

After our wedding in April, we left Ohio in that truck and headed for Florida. We stayed a couple of days at Mike’s house before we hitched up the boat and headed to Islamorada in the Keys for our honeymoon. 

 

Islamorada is small. The truck is big.

 

Still, even when I wasn’t sure we would be able to find a parking place at a restaurant or shop, Mike easily maneuvered the vehicle into a space. I continue to marvel at his driving skill.

 

Once we were back in Tampa, Mike offered to let me drive his truck. I declined.

I was nervous. 

 

I know men can be protective of their trucks. 

 

Then one day, I needed to pick something up from the store. There is a Target department store about a half-mile away from Mike’s house. Mike was busy.

 

“Take the truck,” he told me.

“But what if something happens to it?”

“It’s a truck,” he said.

 

I know a half mile on a country road doesn’t seem like much, but that’s a mile round trip with a stop sign and cross traffic with which to contend. 

 

Okay, I admit, there usually isn’t much cross traffic at that one intersection in the middle of the morning, but it doesn’t mean that on the one day I drive the pick-up there wouldn’t be a parade going through or a covey of bicyclists or even, worse yet, someone waiting to turn onto my road while I’m being all nice and waiting patiently. They will try to squeeze to pass me sitting in that big truck. I could see it all play out in my mind.

 

The possibilities for failure seemed endless. 

 

I breathed deep and girded myself for the journey. The truck is tall and wide and big. The drive turned out to be a piece of cake. I made it to Target and back without incident. (Of course I parked in the emptiest part of the lot and occupied two spaces…but parking is another story for another time.)

 

“I am woman. Hear me roar!” I said to myself as I pulled back into our driveway.

 

I lived on that small victory for a long time, but knew my resolve had dwindled when it became apparent I needed to drive to the new home we purchased.

 

Alone.

 

We were expecting a furniture delivery at the very time Mike and his son, Shawn, would be at Mike’s house loading a small trailer with some of our things to bring to our new residence. 

 

Our new house is NOT around the corner. Our new house is not a half-mile away. 

 

Our new place, the one we are calling “home,” is close to sixty miles from our current place. The old highway I had to travel is US Highway 41. The road makes its way through a few small towns as you drive north. The day before the drive, Mike pointed out places where the speed limit changes, roads merge, and the some of the confusing parts of the drive. To top it off, there is at least one major stretch of the road under major construction.

 

Me? I listened carefully and prayed intensely.

 

The next morning, after another heavy dose of prayer for God’s protection, I readied myself for the journey. 

 

“Are you sure about this?” I asked. “What if something happens to the truck?”

“It’s a truck,” he answered. “You’ll be fine.” 

 

Good answer. 

 

I hopped in the truck and headed off.  Well…I didn’t exactly hop…though I am getting better at climbing in on a single bound. The timing was good. I made my way into the next county and the next. The small towns, lane changes, and construction moved from in front of me into my rearview mirror. 

 

The big surprise? That came when I realized I was no longer checking the side mirrors every few minutes to make sure I was in my lane. I was passing other cars when I needed to pass and never got in anyone else’s way. Nobody honked or shook a fist at me.

 

I felt as if I “belonged” in that F250 4X4… whatever that means.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lake Rules

 Lake Rules

 

Mike and I recently purchased a house. It is our first home together. It’s pretty exciting. It's on a huge lake. Some of my readers may remember the post where I shared that we purchased the house without me seeing it. (If you missed that one, click HERE.) 

 

It’s true. The final walk through before signing our names on the bottom line was the first time I saw the house in person. Inside, that is. 

We did manage to do a “drive by” when we came to Florida after the wedding and were able to sneak a peak in the backyard on another day. Shhh…not sure we were supposed to do that but the owner had moved out so we took a chance.

View From the Water

 

I saw the actual inside of the house the day before closing. As of this writing, we have not yet moved in…but we’re heading in that direction. I’ll likely share some photos or stories from the lake house at that point.

 

For this week's post I wanted to share some observations about our new residence and our very connected life.

 

We married and returned to Florida a couple of weeks before my birthday. We did the drive by a couple of days after the wedding and just a few days before leaving for our honeymoon on Islamorada in the Florida Keys.

 

Knowing how excited I was about this new chapter of our lives, on my birthday, my sister-in-law gave me a wood wall hanging for our new home. Each slat spells out a specific “rule” for the lake.

 

Rule #1 Go Barefoot

            I’ve got this one. Barefoot is my go-to both inside and out.

 

Rule#2 Read a Book

            Not a bad idea. I love to read though perhaps I should be directing more attention to writing one! Nah…we’re talking about dangling those bare feet off the dock with a sweet book to read under the spring sun. I’m in.

 

Rule #3 Jump Off the Dock

            Hmm…I may wait for summer for this one. But I’m sure to swim in the lake. It is clear and beautiful. While on our inspection tour, Mike spotted a fourteen or fifteen inch bass lazily making its way through the water at the end of the dock. I’m sure that ol’ fish will share his swimming hole with us.

 

Rule #4 Catch Fireflies

            Been there. Done that. But I know of eight grandchildren…or at least six of the  eight grands who might still be interested in seeing how many fireflies they can catch.

 

Rule #5 Watch the Sunset

            This one should be spectacular! The back of our house faces west. I can hardly wait.

Our first piece of "art" for the house.
Thank you, Karen.

 

Rule #6 Go Fishing

            I’m looking forward to this one. Several weeks before our wedding, Mike sent me a picture of the rods and reels he ordered for me. It’s been a while since I fished, but I’ll be alongside one of the best fishermen I know…my husband. (He actually fished several state tournaments and could have decided to make that his life’s work had he wanted to do so.)

 

Rule #7 Build a Bonfire

            Easy-Peasy. Especially since we have some brush and wood to clear up in the backyard. But a bonfire isn’t just about clearing the land. It’s about gathering in the evening after a satisfying day on the water, roasting marshmallows and sharing stories.

 

Rule #8 Make Memories

            This one is my favorite. This new phase of my life…this unexpected turn to share a life with this incredible man…is in itself a treasure. Breathing the evening air by the water, waking up to the sound of the birds, playing and working side-by-side at our new home…what else could you want? 

 

Make memories? Absolutely. Memories are the treasure chest of a life well lived