What I Learned

Any day you learn something is a good day. Let me tell you, I've had a banner week. I've learned (discovered may be a better word) several things.

1. I discovered that three layers of mascara might look good, but is probably ill-advised. If you do put that much on, make sure you get every bit of it off before you go to bed. 
2. Talking about something as benign as the pros and cons of bifocals is enough to raise my blood pressure. A political discussion would probably kill me. 
3. Women are held to a higher standard than men.
4. Some people are not able to connect the dots, even when the dots are numbered. 

The Caribbean Circle

I didn't realize until the cruise was almost over that the itinerary had a name - The Caribbean Circle Cruise. So named because it starts at Fort Lauderdale and heads southeast toward St. Thomas and progresses down toward the southernmost Caribbean island of Trinidad. From there it heads northwest toward Curacao and ultimately back to Fort Lauderdale - a big circle.

We stopped in St. Thomas, St. Maarten, St. Kitts, Martinique, Barbados, Trinidad, Curacao and Aruba. Some places we'd been to before but most were new to us. Of course we didn't do much in most of the ports other than walk around the town a bit. We only had "activities" planned in a few ports - a Range Rover tour in St. Kitts, a beach day in Barbados, and a sunset sail in Aruba. And there were days when one or both of us didn't feel up to moving so it was good not to have too many obligations.

So I asked myself if we had a favorite island. I thought St. Kitts was more ruggedly beautiful but it could be because we got out of town and went up into the hills. We also talked about going to Aruba for a vacation (not just a cruise port visit) - but we've done that before. (We liked it but never went back because it was challenging to get there from Texas. It will be easier from Florida.) I also liked Curacao. It seemed a lot like Aruba - very clean. But I've determined that you can't tell much about a place by walking around for a few hours. If/when we go back, I'd like to see a bit more of the countryside.

Here are a few pictures of the islands.

St. Thomas

St. Maarten

St. Kitts

Martinique

Barbados

Curacao

Aruba

Muddling Along

We've been back from our cruise now for two weeks and I haven't written one word. Probably because we got home and I still had remnants of a cold, and a broken toe, and then it was Thanksgiving and then it was time to put the fall decorations away and get out the Christmas decorations.

But let's talk about the cruise. Mark started getting sick in St. Thomas and by the time we got to Martinique he was too sick to get off the ship. It was bad enough to see the ship's doctor. (There's a hefty fee associated with that, so you don't do it lightly.) Of course, he shared it with me so we muddled along the other days until we got to Trinidad where neither of us felt well enough to get off the boat. But that was the one port that came with warnings not to venture outside of the main tourist area and to be constantly on your guard - so if we had to miss a port, that seems the best one to miss.

I say we muddled along because I caught my foot trying to settle into my beach chair on Barbados and broke my toe - the same toe I dropped a shredder on a month or so ago. I was not going to let that ruin my beach day. I figured the salt water would make the bleeding stop (and it did). I just pretended to be asleep when the beach vendors came by. They're selling everything from ice cold beer to jewelry and beach cover-ups and I didn't want to buy anything. When we got back on the ship, I decided I needed to see the doctor because even though I'd been fighting off getting Mark's cold, I was losing that fight. He also took a look at my ailing toe and told me it was most likely broken. The only way to confirm it was to do an X-ray. I asked if it made any difference in the treatment options. (It didn't so there didn't seem to be any reason to go to the expense of the X-ray.)

And now we've been back for two weeks and I've seen my doctor here to get more antibiotics in hope of finally getting rid of the cold. My toe is still broken. It's healing and I may mention it to the orthopedic doctor this afternoon when I see him, not because I think he can or should do anything about it, but because I re-injured my wrist at the same time I broke my toe.

Barbie and the Bible

Mattel introduced Barbie in 1959. I was nine years old and I wanted one. I still wanted one when I was ten.

In my family, you received gifts on your birthday and Christmas. So when I didn't get a Barbie for my November birthday, I was sure I'd get it for Christmas. That was pretty much the only childhood Christmas that I remember being disappointed. No Barbie doll.

But then came the big opportunity. The youth group leaders at church announced a contest. A competition with a prize. And the prize was "anything you wanted that didn't cost over $15". The leaders gave the example of a new bike. Back in 1960 a Barbie doll cost about $3. This was going to be so easy. All you had to do was show up, memorize Bible verses and be faster at looking up Bible verses than the other kids. This was going to be so easy. I don't remember whether the contest was going to last 6 weeks or 8 weeks. It didn't matter. At the end of the competition, I'd be getting the Barbie doll!

And at the end of the competition, which I won, all I had to do was tell the group leaders what I wanted. In my excitement, I told my mother that I won the contest and that I would be getting the Barbie doll.

And the following day, the excitement was over. My mother told me that I didn't want a Barbie doll. My dad had decided that I wanted a Schofield Reference Bible. What??? I didn't even know what that was and besides I had a Bible - a pretty white one with my name engraved on the front that I got from my Grandma. I didn't need another one. I had no Barbie dolls. None. Nada. I didn't want a reference Bible. I wanted a Barbie doll. There may have been 10 year olds who wanted reference Bibles. I was not one of them.

I know I cried. I was being coerced into saying I wanted something I didn't want and I wasn't going to get the thing that I did want and that I'd worked hard to get. I probably pitched a fit. And I knew my mom didn't really care if I asked for the Barbie doll, but my dad considered it an embarrassment that his child should ask for something as mundane as a doll. But my dad almost always communicated with me through my mother and in the end, Mom negotiated the deal. I would tell the youth group leaders that I wanted a Schofield Reference Bible and my mother would buy the Barbie and an over-the-top Barbie outfit (which cost way more than the actual doll.)

I still have both the Bible and the Barbie, although neither is in "mint" condition.

10-4 Good Buddy

Friday, October 4th. Let me tell you about my day.

I had a list of things to do:
Drop my car off at the Chrysler dealership
Stop by a post office to send priority mail
Get a doll stand for a teddy bear
Go to the doctor's office to see a nurse practitioner
Stop by the grocery store to pick up a few items
Go to the farmers market for fresh fruits and vegetables

First on the list - taking my PT Cruiser in for service. The tail light keeps going out. When I bought that vehicle, I bought an extended warranty - lifetime. Chrysler is supposed to fix anything that goes wrong with that car except for the power train (issue covered in previous blog) and all I pay is a $100 deductible. That was working fine until that little jerk at the dealership in Sherman, Texas told me it was a power train issue when it wasn't and I paid $1200 for the repair which I was unable to recover from Chrysler. So I switched to a dealership in Frisco, Texas and they were wonderful. But then we moved to Florida. Let me say that I'm not a fan of this dealership. I told him when I took it in a month ago that it wasn't the tail light but he insisted that it was. So for the past month I've been stopped by friendly neighbors who want to let me know that my tail light is out. I hope they will fix it this time. But they don't really want to work on the car, so they took it on Friday morning and let me know that they wouldn't be getting around to it until Monday. By the time I left that dealership, they weren't going to get to it until Tuesday. And this dealership annoys me because they keep referring to "the warranty company". The "warranty company" is Chrysler. You are a Chrysler dealership. Stop referring to it like it's somebody else who has nothing to do with you.

Meanwhile, I need to get the car registered in Florida. When we were back in Texas last week I went to the DMV to request a duplicate title. I'm pretty sure it's in a box somewhere in my house but I thought it would probably be easier to get a copy than figure out which box. I went in there, filled out the form and waited for my number to be called. The young lady said I needed a release for the lien. I told her the car had been paid off for seven years. No liens on the car. And she told me that the release on the lien had never been filed with the state. She gave me a phone number to call to get another release since I suspect it's in a box in my house, but I'll never find it. Bottom line - I could not get the title. With no way to prove I own the car, I can't register it in Florida. 

I called the number for TD Autofinance and the young lady promised to send another release form. I fully expected it to be in the mail when I got back to Florida. It wasn't. I ended up ordering it online and getting it expedited at a cost of about $50. But I was able to take that with me on Friday so I could overnight it to TX DMV and hopefully, I'll get the title in a week or two so I can register the car in Florida.

The appointment with the nurse practitioner wasn't til 11 am. So I went off to the post office to get the application for a duplicate title in the mail. By that time Michael's was open so I stopped in long enough to find out that they didn't have what I wanted. Now my options are find a Hobby Lobby or order one online.

Next up is the medical practice. My appointment was in Davenport. I've been suffering with an ear infection for weeks. We still don't have a primary care doctor in Florida. Except for Mark's hematologist, we have no doctors here. Mark tried to make an appointment for me several weeks ago with a nearby practice and I'm not sure what happened because usually all they want is your Medicare supplement policy. But for some reason they insisted that I have my Medicare card. Mark was going through my purse looking for this stuff because I was in pain. Long story short - he didn't know what he was looking for and even though the woman said she would give me some time to find it, when I called back to say I had it, that woman was gone and there was a guy who said there were no appointments. Period. No appointments. Not in Poinciana. Not in Davenport. I was fairly put out with that and I didn't want to call them again this time, but given that I left a message with the other local practice and they didn't call me back, I felt I didn't have many options. The other doctor had a two-star rating. Who wants that? So I made the appointment with the first practice's Davenport office because I had to take the car to Davenport, so it wouldn't be so far out of the way.

When I got there, they wanted my medicare card, my insurance card, and my ID. I was good on everything except the ID. I'd had to scan a copy of it to send in with the lost title application and it was still on the scanner. Now, in Texas the receptionist would have said "That's okay sweetie, you just fax it or email it over to me when you get home." But this ain't Texas. "If you don't have ID, no one will see you." All I had was a business card with my picture on it. Not good enough. So I went back out to the truck where Mark was waiting, because their waiting room was full. I told him I would not be seen and why. He was upset. He was going to go speak with the supervisor.

I waited in the truck but decided that there was really no point in us wasting anymore time with them. I went in and told him we should just go and not waste anymore time. Probably just in time, because when he wanted to speak to the receptionist's supervisor she threatened to call the police. Seems a bit extreme to me. We'd read the online reviews for several practices in the area and they were all the same, the doctors were great but the front office staff were all rude and horrible. We just hadn't believed that it was really as bad as everyone said. But it is. And life's too short for that kind of BS. I've since learned that if you want people who act professionally you need to go to downtown Kissimmee, Celebration or Orlando. Poinciana (which is actually closest to us) has rude and unprofessional staff. So I got him out of there before the receptionist called the police - which he was encouraging her to do. But I was a bit upset because I've been struggling with this ear infection for weeks and nobody anywhere else in the world would have treated someone the way that practice treated me.

Next up - get food. We were going to go back to the Publix in Poinciana and then to the farmer's market in our community. We were driving through a rural area on the way back home. It's a US Highway - not some obscure backroad. But there were three people on bicycles. One of them was trying to carry an umbrella (it wasn't raining) and he dropped it. He stopped, which forced one of the other riders (who had a cart attached to the back of his bicycle) to pull directly in front of us. I mean directly. We'd slowed down when we saw them pedaling down the road, but when he swerved in front of us Mark slammed on the brakes and we somehow managed to avoid hitting anyone. Bicycle versus F250. It wouldn't have gone well. We stopped and rolled the window down and to be truthful, I can't remember exactly what we said to them. It is possible that the word idiot may have been used - it was certainly appropriate. Who other than an idiot pulls out in front of an F250 traveling at 55 MPH? We did have to brake extremely hard - everything in the back seat was on the floor - glad I hadn't been to the grocery store to buy eggs yet.

But instead of apologizing for pulling out in front of a moving vehicle on a US highway - not some rinky-dink side street - the guy with the umbrella started yelling at us to "get on down the road and mind your own business" and "don't call my son an idiot". Keep in mind, his son is now firing up a cigarette on the side of the highway, which is what I suppose you do if you've just had a near death experience. And it did look like near death from where I was sitting.

Got my groceries from the store and from the farmer's market and went home to deal with "stuff".

Part of the "stuff"  I was trying to deal with is getting a Florida auto insurance policy. Be cause it's something else I'll need to register the vehicle.This is where I started getting depressed. I'd always carried comprehensive coverage on my car. I never did any comparison shopping - my car insurance and homeowner's insurance were all bundled together and I never really questioned what I was paying for anything. But now that I have to make changes, it's all coming under closer scrutiny. I needed to drop the Ford Ranger off our policy since we sold it a few months ago. And I needed to change the house from our principal dwelling to a rental, which drops it considerably but since I don't have a tenant yet, it puts it back up to almost as much (maybe more) as when we lived there, even though there's no furniture in it. It doesn't make a great deal of sense to me. I suppose in some neighborhoods a vacant house would pose a greater risk to the insurance company, but I really don't see that in this case. But I digress, back to the car insurance. They asked if I'd had any accidents in the last 5 years. No. None. But when they got my driver's license number it turns out that the report showed an "at fault" accident in January of 2018. So I was racking my brain trying to figure out how I'd had an accident that I didn't even remember.

Turns out that when the RV fell off the hitch while we were parked and crushed the truck's tailgate, they decided to make that an "at fault" accident. And they decided to make it my fault, I guess because I was the one who called it in, even though no one was driving at the time of the accident. Something else to fight about. (Sigh.) But back to my state of depression. The price I was given for 6 months coverage seemed exorbitant, granted it went from $100 to $150 per month when they decided I'd had an accident, but that still seemed really high. I still need to look and see what I've been paying although comparing Texas rates to Florida rates is probably like comparing jalapenos and oranges.

But then I started thinking about the car. It's an 11 year old car. Other than the tail light problem that the dealership is supposed to fix, it's in perfect condition. I've maintained it and fixed anything that ever went wrong. I've been happy with it. But the sad fact is that if someone hit me and totalled it, I'd probably collect about $1000 on it. Which makes me wonder why on earth I'd pay out $1000 per year to insure it. I guess I didn't realize how little it's worth because we had a 1994 Ford Ranger that was mechanically sound but it needed a new paint job and the interior upholstery was shot. We sold that for $800 which is about what Kelly Blue Book says I can get on a trade for my PT Cruiser. Doesn't seem right that a 25 year old vehicle that needs a lot of TLC would be worth the same as an 11 year old vehicle that doesn't. But things don't always make sense and right now, we need to figure out whether we want to trade the PT cruiser in, or trade-in the F250. Or buy a new car and sell them both outright. Or just keep the PT cruiser and rent a car for long trips- although long trips may be a thing of the past. After this last trip, flying is looking more attractive - but I know I'll change my mind about that the next time I get on a domestic flight. There are numerous possibilities and I need to decide on one.

No wonder I haven't had time for a pedicure.

It's Not Vegas

We're not much into gambling. I used to like to play a hand or two of blackjack when in Vegas, but that was years ago and now it's all changed. Everything is electronic - you've got to have a player card. I don't think you can just walk past and drop a nickel in a slot anymore. So I no longer know how to lose money in a casino.

But that's okay. We stay at casinos when we travel because the price of a room is typically lower than in a similar hotel without a casino. At least in places like Louisiana and Mississippi. It's because all the losers are subsidizing the rooms.

But Mississippi and Louisiana are not like Vegas. They have those rules about the casinos being on the water, so there's no "strip". You can't easily wander off to another casino if you're not feeling lucky where you are.

Earlier this year we stayed at the Ameristar in Vicksburg. We stayed there one night. All we could stand. We weren't gambling and of the four restaurants they're supposed to have, only one was open - the bakery/deli. We went for a drink at the bar before dinner and it was essentially empty except for one other couple. The bartender got the order wrong and then she disappeared. Someone else came in to correct it and when he left, we were on our own. No one came back. So we went to the restaurant. The restaurant did have nice views of the river. We were seated in the VIP area which was nice because we're not VIPs. But our waitress treated us like we were, which was reflected in her tip. But still there was nothing much to eat there besides fried food. If we hadn't wanted to see the Civil War sites, we would have packed up and left in the morning.

But instead we moved down the river to Margaritaville. Like no other Margaritaville I've ever visited. This one had given up on being a casino and had become a giant video arcade targeted at kids. I had no idea about that when we booked online. The place was crawling with kids, not toddlers under the control of parents, but teenagers, on school trips with minimal chaperones. Only one restaurant, again with mostly fried foods but we were in walking distance of some places with stunning river views and nice food. And thankfully, we were only there for one night.

We also stayed at the Eldorado in Shreveport/Bossier earlier this year. All of their dining venues were open and we chose the steak house. Excellent food and service. So on our drive back from Texas this time, we noticed that the Isle of Capri in Lake Charles was owned and/or managed by the same group that owns Eldorado. Unfortunately there were no similarities.

For some reason, I was unable to book online. I called to make the reservation and was told that the only vacancy was in the Inn, which is across the parking lot from the Casino/Hotel. That was fine. Since it was a Saturday night, I asked if I needed dinner reservations. The young lady on the phone said it was recommended since it was Saturday night and the hotel was almost booked out. I wanted the steakhouse restaurant. She transferred me and I waited on the line. And waited. And waited. I'm in the car as a passenger, I'm not doing anything else so I waited some more. Fifteen minutes I waited. I decided that they must have connected me to the wrong number, so I called back to try again. After another 15 minutes, I gave up. We would just go check with the restaurant when we arrived.

We arrived in our Ford F250 towing a U-Haul trailer. I went to check us in while Mark went to park. He was able to park - I think he got the last available space that was big enough to accommodate our vehicle. The check-in didn't go quite as smoothly.

"I'm sorry. We don't have any non-smoking rooms available right now. Would you like a smoking room or would you rather wait?"

What did she just say? I booked a non-smoking room. Check-out time was 11 am. Check-in time was 4 pm. I'd booked at 3 pm. How did they not have a room available?

" I don't want a smoking room. I guess we'll wait. How long a wait are we talking about?"

"It shouldn't be very long."

"Are we talking about minutes or hours?"

"Minutes."

"Okay that's fine."

"I'll text you when it's ready."

I went off to find Mark and get our bags inside to wait. Fortunately, the room became available just about the same time we sat down in the lobby to wait. Once we got our bags upstairs, we went across the parking lot to the restaurant. There were three young ladies at the front of the restaurant. I assume they were the hostesses. I asked if we needed a reservation.

"We don't take reservations."

"You should let the people who answer the phones know that. I spent 30 minutes waiting for someone to answer the phone so I could make a reservation because the person who took the hotel reservation said I needed one."

" Our phone is disconnected."

" Well, that certainly explains why no one answered. But seriously, you need to have a talk with those people who make the hotel reservations, because it seems they don't know."

They stood there looking at us like our hair was on fire when Mark pointed out that the disconnect between reservations for the hotel and reservations for the restaurant made everyone look stupid. I really don't think they cared. They told us it would be a 30 minute wait and we said we'd wait in the bar.

Here's where it got bizarre. We walked in to the bar area and the seats at the bar were marked with "reserved" signs. So in this place you could reserve a seat at the bar but not a table. First time I'd ever encountered that. I'm still stunned by it.

We did get a table in about 30 minutes, as promised. My food was okay, Mark's food was delicious (he says). The service was absolutely fine. And we found the other patrons both in the restaurant and the bar area to be extremely friendly and sociable.

So, it's not Vegas, but sometimes you get a bargain. Even though the prices are higher on weekends, it's still cheaper than a Holiday Inn.

A Place for Everything

My kitchen in Texas wasn't as big as the one I have now, but the cabinets were designed to maximize the space. Every corner cabinet had a lazy susan. All of the lower cabinets had pull out drawers on the top and bottom. We'd installed racks for the pots and pans and dividers so cutting boards and cookie sheets could stand on end. In this house, all the lower pull out drawers are on the top shelf. Seems to me that it's more practical to have the pull outs on the lower shelf - that's the one that's harder to reach. Instead of a nice, neat and organized drawer, those lower shelves consisted of what one friend described as 'search and rescue' storage. When we first moved in we put things away just to get them out of the way. It was just inefficient. I had glasses in several different places. Same with coffee mugs. We have since reorganized to make it more efficient and I actually think that we'll be able to skip adding the pull out drawers to the lower shelves. The cabinets in our new space aren't as deep as they were in the old space, but there are more of them. Plus there is a separate pantry - something I didn't have at the house in Texas. I thought it would be fabulous because it had so many shelves. But I need a ladder to get to the stuff on the tip top. I'd hoped to store seldom used appliances up there, but turns out it is actually stuffed with food from the bottom to the top.

Back in Texas I had a diva closet. It was the size of a small room and everything was in easy reach. The ceiling was only 7' high so there was only one shelf on top of each clothes rack and I didn't need a ladder to get anything off the shelves. I had two cube units to store handbags - no crowding and easy to see and reach. Now I have a closet that I guesstimate to be about 7' x 7' but it has 12 foot ceilings. The wire racks and shelves go up three tiers. I have it stuffed but I can't actually reach any of it. Because the movers forgot to bring my shoe rack, all my shoes are on the floor of the closet. I can barely open the door. I keep thinking I'll have to get California Closets to come in and sort it out. It may be beyond my capabilities. I'm also thinking that it's possible I don't need six pairs of black pants. Mark's closet is much the same, but to a somewhat lesser degree. (He doesn't have as many shoes as I do.)

Downstairs in Texas I had two guest rooms. One with a closet 4' deep and 14' long. The other with a built in wardrobe about two feet deep and six feet long plus another closet that was about two feet deep and six feet wide. Now I only have one guest room and the closet is approximately two feet deep and six feet long. Even with the extra four feet of ceiling height it's just not as much space.

Even if I assume that the storage space in the utility room and linen closets is equivalent, I've still got to find a place for all that displaced stuff from the guest room closets. Plus the Texas house had three built-in display/book shelves. All of that stuff is currently crammed into a curio cabinet and a bookcase that is too small for the space it's in.

It appears that we traded closet and storage space for extra living space. It's okay. I really like this house, but I am challenged trying to find a place for everything. I still have 23 boxes to unpack. Six of them are labeled books. I might as well wait until I find a suitably large bookcase.

I just read this to Mark and he is laughing. I don't know why...