Part of this trip was introducing a new traveler to our favorite Disney haunts. That would be five-month old Lena Elizabeth, the lovely recent addition to the family of daughter Cathy and son-in-law Matt. Here's the chronically happy Lena packaged for just about anything from a theme park visit to a moon shot. Kids come with more (and better) stuff these days.
But before we take this ride through recent memories, and document Lena's first encounter with The Mouse, let's reflect on the whole idea of "vacation". My Merriam-Webster first defines vacation as "a respite or a time of respite from something". Thanks, Noah. Helpful.
I guess that definition can work for normal people. People with jobs and a responsibility for being useful. But as a retiree, I take a slightly different view. I feel my whole life is now a respite. So my working definition of "vacation" is that time when I am away from home but have taken enough stuff with me so that I can sustain the cushy existence to which I have become accustomed.
Luckily, I have found that this can be accomplished with a little planning and a mid-sized or larger cross-over vehicle. Also, a pleasant, multi-talented and accommodating
So let's get this party started. Nancy and I arose on March 8th, a Friday, loaded up the Traverse with slightly more than we would ever need, and pulled out of the drive. On board we had a few extra items to ease the travel burden of those that would be flying down to meet us later in the month.
Our Day 1 plan was to roll, pitch and yaw our way down the washboard that is I-75 between Detroit and Toledo. Then, after tiptoeing through Buckeye speed traps, enjoy some fond memories as we buzzed the western border of Cincinnati (the place we first met).
From there, we would meander through bluegrass country and the western foothills of the Appalachians to a most stylish B&B in Spencer, Tennessee. That would be the home of our good friends Jan and Miguel. You might remember this secluded venue from an earlier trip (shot taken one morning as we attempted an early getaway; something about an unpaid bar bill).
Our Day 1 plan came off without a hitch. We had a delightful evening with our mountain retreat hosts. They got us liquored up, gave us a tour of the latest improvements to their private paradise (including a new guest room in process) and then stuffed us full of excellent cuisine. The usual. We were a little too lubed that night to drag out the camera, but here's a shot of us with these great friends from the last time we enjoyed their hospitality. They still look just like this.
Our Day 2 plan also worked out well. That was a descent from the mountains into Chattanooga followed by a sprint through Georgia to our second favorite state.
We arrived safe and sound at my mother's place in Zephyrhills in time for a delayed happy hour and a late supper. And, our last couple of nights in my grandmother's old bed. More on that shortly.
We hung out with Mom on Sunday and Monday, did a little shopping and cruised around in her new Terrain. Here's a shot of Mom with her new ride. No flies on Dolores.
On Tuesday, Nancy and I headed south to the Fort Myers area for a lunch with some old IRS friends. Here's a shot of this little reunion crowd.
From left to right is Debbie Schmidt of Fort Lauderdale and her husband Buddy, yours truly with bride Nancy, and Paul Bischoff who winters in Ft. Myers with his better half Connie. The Bischoffs' northern home is in Minnesota.
We had a great time catching up. Paul and I are long since retired. Debbie is still fighting what we refer to as the "tax wars". But most of the discussion was about our kids, current activities and future fun. Need to do more of that sort of thing.
After lunch Nancy and I continued on to South Seas Resort on Captiva Island for a couple of nights with our friends the Dyles and the Wyatts. We spent our island time sitting in the sun, dipping in the pool, eating, drinking, and in the evening watching a movie or two. We also worked in a round of golf on the resort executive course.
True, we do this sort of thing on a pretty regular basis. But equally true is that it never gets old. Here's a timeless shot of the active members of what we call the Burk-Dyatt Vacation Club. That would be left to right moi, Robyn, Jim, Nancy, David and Mary.
On Thursday, Day 7 of the trip, we returned to Mom's for what became the great bed caper. Remember a little earlier when I mentioned my grandmother's old bed? It was a full double that was installed in my parents' second bedroom almost 20 years ago after serving for a number of years in my grandmother's home. In other words, it was tired.
In recent years we had added a memory foam topper to give this ancient warrior a little more life. But the bottom line is that its claim to comfort had rung hollow for a very long time. I made an idle comment along these lines within earshot of my mother during my last visit in January, and noted that it might be time for an upgrade. She took that suggestion to heart.
A couple of weeks after we returned home from the January trip, my mother announced during our daily call that we should plan to spend some time on our next visit shopping for a new bed for the guest room. Turns out she meant it.
The day after we had arrived back in Zephyrhills (that was the previous Sunday) we went shopping. Before we finished we (read Mom) had purchased a new queen mattress and platform (formally referred to as a boxed spring) as well as a suitable headboard.
That meant that on Friday the 15th, Day 8 of the trip, we had to rise early, dismantle and remove the old bed, and assemble the new headboard and frame in anticipation of the happy delivery. Well it wasn't quite that easy.
As is our way, we were as frugal as we could be in this adventure. After price-shopping and obtaining a good deal on the mattress and platform, we thought we could save a little more money by first looking for a headboard at one of the local habitat/thrift stores. After all, it's very "Florida" to appreciate and celebrate the "golden" years. Even for furniture.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should fess up here that one of my favorite pastimes is to cruise thrift shops and second hand stores for what I would describe as hidden treasures. Stuff that for some reason a previous owner had cast aside while still in its prime.
Okay, maybe just a little past its prime. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say "to the trained eye, still possessing a measure of useful life - at a bargain price". You get the idea. At least it gets me out of the house for a little exercise. It beats mall walking.
Anyway, suffice it to say we found a formerly owned headboard that would meet our needs. So with a little move planning and a modicum of groaning, we worried the new queen-sized headboard down the narrow hall of my mother's home, around the corner and into place.
Then with a handful of right-sized bolts, washers and nuts procured from my father's shed, which contains a lifetime supply of such odds and ends, I was able to properly attach the headboard to the new bed frame. Here's a shot of me in my usual work position, completing my final task in this endeavor.
A couple of hours later, two highly-trained and physically fit women (think roller-derby queens) arrived in a big truck with our new bed. I did provide a couple pointers to these ladies on how to navigate the narrow hallway and the 90 degree turn, having sorted that out with the removal of the old bed. But they did the heavy lifting. And voila! The new bed was a reality. Here's a shot of our delightful and much appreciated new resting place at Mom's, complete with new bedding procured for the occasion.
Having now field tested this welcome addition to the family for a few nights, I can say with confidence that the project was a huge success.
On Saturday the 16th, I awoke thinking that there was only one task remaining on my Zephyrhills to-do list. That was to procure a noodle floatie for grandson Ian. But before I could quaff my second cup of coffee, Mom had come up with another problem. She needed a new chair.
Now my mother's history with living room chairs is long and filled with disappointment. She goes through them fairly quickly. Some turned out to be too big. Others too small. Some didn't wear very well, and others just seem to lose their appeal. The important thing to note is that when Mom says she needs a new chair, she means now.
Okay. I know the drill. There is one particular furniture store that my mother has used over the years. And despite the failure of past chair purchases from this store, it is still held in high esteem. Go figure.
So before lunch we headed out to Dade City for more shopping. I will save the details of this outing for a future post on my mother's many chair adventures. But I would like to report that a new chair was procured, carefully loaded into the Terrain, brought home and installed in my mother's living room before mid-afternoon. Again, no flies on the proprietor of 3420 Carnation Lane.
To consummate this quick but successful transition, the old chair had to be disposed of. Unlike several past displaced chairs, there was no place else in my mother's house to put it nor was there a relative (child, grandchild) in need of an extra chair. That meant an opportunity for me to visit one of my favorite places.
Those of you who are regular readers of this blog will remember some past posts in which I describe the joy of removing unwanted articles from one's life by tossing them over a concrete ledge into the gaping maw of a monster dumpster 15' below. Escorting Mom's discarded lounger to its doom was just as much fun as I remembered. (For a full exploration of heady times at the Pasco County Solid Waste Facility, see my Jan-Feb 2015 post).
As I came down emotionally from my chair disposal high, I remembered about the noodle. Grandson Ian would be needing such a device to navigate the pool at Disney. And I was just the guy to perform this task. For those of you not familiar with my history and prowess with noodles, I offer this documentary evidence.
In this shot from 2012 I am demonstrating for my other grandson Cyrus the inverted-chest-clutch position. Note that Cyrus at this point was still in the upright-death-grip training mode. He has since progressed nicely.
To complete this assignment we went off to Walmart where I snagged these beauties - one for the new noodler and one for the lucky dad, or grandpa, depending on the duty roster.
With my Zephyrhills chores complete, Nancy and I packed up for the next day's drive over to Disney to meet up with the Kuhlmans. And that's where we will pickup the story in my next post.
Till then.
Grosse Pointe Charles
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