What I did on my Florida vacation

So, we are back from Florida. As always with vacations, it was too short but well worth it. The pic above was looking out our “backyard” from the deck and into the inland waterway that flows behind Bradenton Beach. As I wrote last post, the Bradenton/Anna Marie Island area is such a quiet, unspoiled part of Florida. Little cottages (a few mansions) and lots of mom-and-pop shops, restaurants, and bars. No neon clubs or highrise resorts. It’s Florida of the 1940s. Oh, and they have the old timers to prove it. We both decided that if we moved down there, we would definitely be the hot, new, young couple in town.

We both decided that next time, we’d stay longer and take in more of the local activities. We’ll rent a kayak and go looking for manatees. We’ll perhaps go on a fishing or dolphin watching charter. We’ll explore more. But with me only there for three days, it was really a time to kick back, read a book on the deck, go for a walk or two along the beach, and just chill. Mission accomplished.

Our cottage was perfect. The deck was big enough to have both sunny spots and shady retreats. Belle the Dog decided that she could totally be a Florida dog. I tried to warn her of the thick, hot, humid air of summer, which would not work well with a fur coat, but she wasn’t having any of it. I also told her that if she wanted to be a true dog of the South, she needed to lie around under the porch.

Oh, and see those trees? Those green things are called leaves. They’re awesome.

Our tiny cottage was sandwiched between two much larger houses. One (the one on the left) was definitely a mansion. Of course, ours had no dock of any kind, so we had to trespass on the dock of the mansion while they were gone to get this shot. Yes, I was a man without pier. (I’m here all week. Try the haddock!) And while the inland waterway doesn’t have the beach and waves of the other side (which was only three blocks away), it had amazing water birds that really put on a show. Pelicans dive-bombing for dinner. Herons and egrets perching on docks. Ibises running around after God knows what. It was great.

This was an egret that I named Mike. Every time I went to the beach, Mike was there in virtually the same spot. Once, he just stood by a couple of fisherman, waiting for them to throw him a little something. He’d let you get within about 5 feet of him before he’d nervously scoot away.

Something about the sunsets there just makes you get out the camera. Every time. Same thing. It’s like you’ve never ever seen one of these things in your life. And when you go down to the beach to take them in, others come, too. Then, after that blood-red sphere sinks beneath the horizon, many will stand and give the whole show a good golf clap. It’s hilarious.

I told Mrs. Carpetbagger that we were just there to try out retired life. Turns out, it fits pretty good. She took to it immediately and is having a hard time readjusting to reality. We’d fit in well with 4:30 dinners, Tuesday night Bingo, and driving while barely being able to see over your dashboard.

While at a breakfast joint one morning, the garbage men came in looking for the owner of a Cadillac Escalade that was blocking the dumpster. They called twice and this old coot yelled that he was coming. I turned and there he was, dressed in white t-shirt with the Navy insignia, white shorts, black socks, and dark shoes. He was shuffling for all he was worth. I would have sworn that it was actually Tim Conway playing his old man character, but this was for real. And he’s out there driving his Cadillac SUV. Frightening.

For my birthday, we stayed in and made use of the grill to fire up some delicious shrimp and asparagus. We added some wine, white rice, and a jar of gumbo we saw at one of the local stores. Delish! Then, we sat out on the deck with a perfect breeze and the night sky full of stars. What a painless way to turn 50! We went out most other nights for some awesome seafood dinners and the local color.

On Sunday, on our way out of town, we stopped by Pirate City, the team’s spring training camp. Unfortunately, the players were having physicals and getting promotional photos taken. Mrs. Carpetbagger decided to charm the guard at the gate, Curtis. When not working for the Pirates, he moonlights as a python hunter. He’s licensed and everything. How do you get a python hunting license? Well, I’m guessing there are classes and tests and stuff, or maybe they just throw you out there and if you come back, you get a license. As a boy, he went to rattlesnake handling camp. First, of course, they’d milk the rattlesnakes, which, he said, gives you about 20 venom-free minutes to handle them. He showed Mrs. Carpetbagger the scars on his hands from where he’d been bitten dozens of times. Yeah, this was a camp for children! Ah, the South.

Of course, there was also no shortage of touristy shops. Some with hats that come with a full head of hair. Yeah, this could definitely be my future.

All in all, I’m back… but not really. Somewhere in my mind, I’m still sitting down there on my deck with a book, a beer, and my dog, taking a picture of yet another damn sunset.