FTJ, Entry 142: Doggy Tails and Turtle Heads

The time here at Carrabelle has flown, with all the hubbub and exciting doin's here at the RV park. 

First, we are very proud to say that Buddy won the "best-dressed dog" contest, paws down. I think the competition could have been a bit stiffer, but whatever.

I call this winning ensemble the "organ grinder monkey" look, complete with tail.
(Beau called it a gaudy pimp look.)

Before I embellished the hat....

The cute competition. But really. You knew who had to win, didn't you?

Second, we had the corned beef and cabbage dinner redux at Ruth and Carl's place. The excitement never stops, people! Lots of laughs, and great food, again.

Beau seems to have a lot of fun wherever he goes. He's a cute old coot.

Kay (in the yellow) with our hosts, Ruth and Carl. Nice antennae -- maybe we should call her "Kaytee-bug'?

Kenny, standing at right, always carries extra beer in a special fanny pack. Just can't be without the brew, I guess. He is a very funny fellow.

Kay and Carl, looking pretty darned cozy together. (They are married to other people, but hey, let's not start any talk, folks.)

Bad News, But Good Friends

A moment of silence.... We have received unfortunate news on the Boo (our Malibu). On the way to Crawfordville, a town about 40 minutes away, the Boo started acting up. We hoped for the best on the long return drive, but the hiccuping continued. We somehow made it back to Carrabelle, and the Boo limped into the local auto shop.  And then we received the grim news: The transmission was shot. And we had nearly made it to 90,000 miles!

Now we are without a car for at least four days and may have to extend our stay beyond April 2nd here. Crossing our fingers for a fix by Monday, folks. AND THERE GOES THE BUDGET. A cool two grand or so that we had not anticipated spending. Ouch! We really have no choice, though. (Looks like I will be applying for that WalMart "greeter" position sooner than planned.)

The Boo has been a great car up to now. In fact, the mechanic raved about the Malibu's long life and overall dependability. Oh yeah, sure, mister mechanic, it is super swell -- OTHER THAN THE  #$!&;#$$%%!!  TRANSMISSION IMPLOSION! Jeesh.

Anyway, enough of that.

Carl and Ruth, taking pity on the two poor pitiful seniors without wheels, kindly offered to be our tour guides for the day on Thursday, first showing us one of the local hot spots, the Dwarf Cypress preserve in Tate's Hell State Forest. Quick explanation: There was a guy named Tate who hunted in these woods and got bitten by a snake, and somehow crawled to civilization before dying. His last words were "I have just been in Hell." This is Beau's explanation of the moniker for the place. Apocryphal story? Don't know. Don't care.

The Dwarf Cypress Boardwalk allows you to view one of the largest groves of these trees anywhere in the United States. Many of these "Bonsai" cypress trees are more than 300 years old, and most do not grow more than 6 feet tall -- no one knows why, though. They are genetically the same as normal sized cypresses. It could be the soil, which is low on nutrients, or the fact that the area historically had been flooded much of the year. A fascinating mystery here on The Forgotten Coast.

In the middle of nowhere on our way to the cypress forest...not a sign of any life anywhere...

...other than the apiaries scattered along the road. One source of the famous Tupelo honey they sell in this area. (Beau thought apiaries had apes in them-- stoopit!)

The boardwalk leading to the Dwarf Cypress area.

Some water lilies in bloom.

In front of the Dwarf Cypress forest.

Very cool! Then it was on to the Apalachicola National Estuarine Research Reserve. The reserve was established to educate the public and help protect the various habitats of the Apalachicola River and Bay system.

It is also yet another example of how well Florida executes these public spaces/educational centers. It is a beautiful place, showcasing the local flora and fauna, and helping adults and schoolchildren understand the local area and its importance. 

For instance, we learned that the Apalachicola Bay area is one of the most productive natural systems on the continent, incorporating habitats "ranging from upland pine and bottom-land hardwood forests to marshes and oyster beds to protective barrier islands." And because fresh water and salt water meet in the bay, Apalachicola is an estuary where organisms from both the river and the gulf feed and reproduce. Like good ol'  Long Island Sound back home.

Cool, huh?

Ruth at the Estuarine Research Reserve, pretending to be an oyster-woman.

Carl studies a display.

A lovely turtle whose name I unfortunately forgot.

I think this might be a Florida softshell turtle. At any rate, it has an impressive neck, yes?

It was so nice of Carl and Ruth to drive us around and show us these unique points of interest in the Carrabelle area. We loved it. 

Another great day! Thanks, guys. Oh -- and we capped off the excursions with this sighting of a bald eagle. What a thrill.

A little fuzzy, but there he is in all his glory.

Tanks, Panky

FTJ, Entry 141: The Latest from Carrabelle

We have had a great string of sunny days, and more action than usual.

First, Beau and I went out to Bald Point State Park and Alligator Point. Not much there except additional beautiful beaches and some beach houses, many of which looked unrented/uninhabited. This whole area is REALLY quite undeveloped.

Alligator Point

We had a picnic at Bald Point State Park.

The next day or so, someone (I think it was Kay) from the RV park organized a group luncheon down at a local restaurant, where the oysters are $4.99 a dozen. Twelve of us went and had a terrific time, as usual.

From left, Ron, Kay, Carl, Bev, Bob (?), Ina Jane, Kenny, Ardee, Ruth, Carl, me, Beau--oh, and of course, Buddy.

Outside the restaurant, Beau was intrigued by an old Harley Davidson motorbike.

We also took a drive out to St. George Island State Park. Not much out there, folks.

A Visit from Old Friends

The best news of the week: We were very excited this past Monday when our old friends Jack and Allison arrived here for a visit. We had not seen them since October, and we are having a wonderful time beaching it and hanging out together. We will be sad to see them go on Saturday morning!

What better after a long drive than a Bud and a Painkiller? They drove all the way up here from Hutchinson Island in south Florida. So great to see them!

On Carrabelle Beach.

Allison adjusting her i-pad under a towel.

What can I say?

Buddy took a shine to Jack!

On the flats at Carrabelle Beach. At low tide, the eastern end of the beach becomes an exposed sandbar.

We're gonna need a bigger boat. Outside the Tin Shed shop during our visit to Apalachicola.

If you look closely, you will see a white cup holder insert flying in the air right alongside the totem pole in the background. Every time Jack sat on this "boat bench," the cup holder would be expelled from its hole in the deck and fly like a small rocket into the air. Very funny.

At the Blue Parrot on St. George Island.

Same place, different faces!

Jack and Beau had a "steak dinner" bet on the Super Bowl -- Jack's Pats lost, of course, so he paid up his bet at the Crooked River Grill restaurant. Thanks, guys! Dinner was great.

Jack's dessert.

Of course, one of the highlights of the Condlins' visit was the RV park's Burger Bash on Friday. Beau made his "rustic" coleslaw. Activities Empress Ruth and her team did a great job -- again.

And another thing....

Hmmm. what else is going on? Oh -- a BIG disappointment. Alas, we will have to leave the area before we can go to the 12th annual Worm Gruntin' Festival in nearby Sopchoppy. Now THAT would have been a great blog topic.

Tanks, Panky

You can't make this stuff up

FTJ, Entry 140: Sure and Begorrah, Them's a Lot of Spuds

It is 8 pm, and I am in a food coma. I am SO stuffed with corned beef and cabbage and carrots and potatoes and soda bread and cake. I was in such an eating frenzy the green plastic beads on the table were staring to look appealing. And gads, now I am paying for it. (Perhaps the Romans, with their alleged vomitoriums -- or would that be vomitoria?-- were onto something.)  

Anyway, the St. Patrick's Day dinner here at the RV resort, put on by Ruth and Kay and their husbands, Carl and Ron, was amazing. Great, great job. And such a bargain at $5 a person.

But one little thing: You have perhaps heard of the Irish potato famine? Well, we had the opposite problem. The potatoes somehow reproduced in the kitchen, to the point where I wondered if this was a St. Paddy's Day version of The Day of the Triffids -- you know, the sci-fi novel about highly reproductive plants taking over the world (that was also the basis of an infamous "Star Trek" episode)? 

It was.... The Night of the Taters. People kept eating them, and yet their numbers never diminished. In fact, they multiplied several times when we weren't looking. I think I saw a few moving furtively toward one another in the chafing dish, actually.

Okay, enough silliness. It was a wonderful event, made possible by a lot of hard work in a very hot kitchen. THANKS SO MUCH Ruth, Carl, Kay, and Ron.

Some photos commemorating the event:

The community room looked great before the hordes descended.

A wonderful shot of Ruth and Beau.

Kudos to the chefs! They worked so hard--and it paid off.

Ron and Kay prep the cabbage. When I asked Kay to go easy on my cabbage portion, she just looked at me and deadpanned, "Farts?" Well, I never! What nerve!  (But how did she know?)

Sound the dinner bell!  (Have you ever seen senior citizens at an all-you-can-eat buffet? It ain't pretty, folks.)

Beau liked Kirk's shirt.

I think this woman was suffering from glycoalkaloid poisoning, brought on by overindulging in potatoes during the tubers' annual St. Patrick's Day reproductive frenzies. No, really! It can happen. Look it up.  

Park manager Cheryl made the "pot of gold" cake. Yummy.

Thanks again, Ruth and Carl. (I was trying to gain that last 10 pounds, and I think your dinner did the trick.)

So, yet another great evening. And guess what? We got to take home some leftovers. And guess what they were? Yup...spuds.

Where's the Pepto? I bet I dream about The Attack of the Killer Potatoes tonight.

Tanks, Panky