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

FTJ, Entry 138: Parade Pics, as Promised

For the millions (HAHAHA) awaiting photos of the Camp Gordon Johnston parade, I am posting as promised. I KNOW you are anxious to see them.... ;-)

We lucked out with the weather: It was breezy, but bright and sunny and 75 degrees. The streets of the bustling metropolis of Carrabelle were lined with happy parade-loving people. 

We lined up on the street behind Main Street and waited for the cue.

Lining up for the start.

Ruth and Carl did a great job putting this all together. Beau helped a bit as well. Too bad the banner emphasizes Budweiser rather than Carrabelle Beach RV Resort.

 

LOVED the Carrabelle Riverfront Festival pirate ship float -- Pirates of the Carrabellean. Check out the cannons and the laundry basket crow's nest. Wonderful!

Great costumes, too.

This parrot did a cute trick where you shoot it and say "bang" and it plays dead. Hysterical.

And here is the Crooked River Lighthouse. For those who have not heard of the lighthouse, it was built in 1895 and for 117 years has stood as a beacon to guide ships, fishermen, and oyster men through the treacherous pass between Dog and St. George Islands. (I don't think this little replica is as old, though.)

And we are off.

We rode the float and tossed beads to the supportive onlookers on the street. A few ladies lifted their shirts for beads. More than a few men did, too. Bead whores come in both sexes, apparently.

Beau and I sat on the other side of the float. See him in the hat?

After the parade, we had a tour of the New Orleans, a landing craft anchored in Carrabelle before heading to Kuwait.

Waiting to board the New Orleans.

This young man served in Afghanistan, I believe. I know he said he had experienced 23 IED attacks. We thanked all these brave soldiers for their service.

After the tour, we enjoyed the free spaghetti and meatball lunch provided by the town, and departed for home. Beau and I rode behind Dan and the golfcart just in case of a mishap on the way back.

Wasn't this an incredibly exciting day?

Tanks, Panky

FTJ, Entry 136: The Forgotten Coast? Fuhgeddaboudit.

Well, based on the past 25 days, during which we got maybe four decent warm sunny ones, we won't be back to the Forgotten Coast. It has been cold, cloudy, rainy, or foggy most of this month, and we are sick of it. We can only hope that when our friends Jack and Allison visit next month, this dismal dreariness will have passed. Right now, it looks like cold and cloudy and rainy and crappy will prevail for at least the next week, maybe longer. Yuck.

Fortunately, we attended a party here at the park and got to meet some very nice people. As a result, Beau is keeping busy helping build a float for the upcoming Camp Gordon Johnston parade, which is the highlight of the celebratory Camp Gordon Johnston weekend. The weekend honors veterans, and in particular, the amphibian soldiers who trained here (some on the beach right across from us) for the Normandy invasion. Sponsored by the local WWII museum, festivities include a reunion of veterans, a parade, and a free lunch for anyone who wants to come. 

Beau may ride on the float with the other veterans. In that I have had a rotten upper respiratory infection (I get sick every time we visit here -- another reason not to come back), I have been out of the loop on the plans.

We have only been able to go to the beach once. Haven't even bothered to go to the beautiful beach at St. George Island -- too cold and crummy.

Some photos of the good and the bad  follow.

First, the good:

Our ONE nice beach day.

I have been in long pants and sweatshirts since this photo was taken.

At first, Beau thought there was a small shark in the water -- but he actually saw a fin from this stingray, floating along in a few inches of water, right off the shore.

Took this shot of a magnificent Great Blue Heron at a place called Indian Pass,
about 40 minutes or so from us.

This guy was maybe 20 feet from a fisherman, waiting for scraps.

On one cloudy day (what else is new?) we took a trip out to Cape San Blas, considered one of the best -- if not THE best -- beaches in the country, but we were not particularly impressed. A few homes along the sand, and not much else out there. Too remote for us.

In general, Cape San Blas has the same look as the Outer Banks.

It also has its own weirdness.

On another non-rainy, yet cool day, we went out to lunch in Apalachicola, at a nice little cafe called Tamara's.

Now the bad:

Our typical weather of late.

 

And this is a GOOD day (not raining).

Considering we have another month here, we are REALLY hoping to see the sun soon. And it's frigging cold. Harrumph.

Tanks, Panky

P.S. Another disappointment for Beau: His favorite BBQ place here, the one he raved about the entire year we traveled on our bucket list trip, has gone downhill. But it's about the only game in town, so we keep giving it another chance. Beau may just end up in the kitchen talking/consulting with/complaining to the chef, ya never know.

FTJ Entry 135: Carrabelle Beach: Been Here, Done That

The second time around on the "Forgotten Coast" is a bit warmer compared to 2011, but after a few days of lovely weather we are now in a cold, cloudy period. Crap.

Five days in (and despite the current gloom), we continue to enjoy this place, with its deserted crescent beach and nearby idyllic island of St. George -- and of course, oyster heaven in Apalachicola, just down the road.

Sunrise over Carrabelle Beach.

 

We just got our Connecticut license plates for the new motorcoach, so we are all set at last. The Dutch Star is looking good, don't you think?

This photo and the ones below pretty much typify the kinds of crowds we find on the beach here. Even on the sunny days, you don't encounter too many folks.

Boo on the clouds! Fortunately, the sun is going to reappear tomorrow.

Speaking of oyster heaven, Beau just had his first dozen raw oysters ($6.99) of the year in downtown Apalachicola and said they were wonderful -- among the best of any he had eaten. The price can't be beat, either.

Apalachicola has a colorful history, and some correspondingly colorful characters, such as shopowner John Lee (below), who was a newspaper editor and played a small role in a John Hurt movie filmed in the town. Apparently, John L. and John H. are good friends (and drinking buddies). He says he and John also got actor Sam Waterston's son drunk when the kid came of age. Seemed proud of that achievement.

John Lee (related, of course, to General Robert E.  Lee) is a very funny fellow, with many (tall?) tales to tell, full of great details about the history of the Apalachicola area. He also sells locally harvested Tupelo honey, some of the finest you can buy.

John Lee in his curiosity shop.

A movie scene featuring a younger John Lee (with mustache) arresting John Hurt, far right. John plays this film in his shop -- one of his presumably many 15 minutes of fame.

 

John Hurt's bloody shirt from the movie.

I must say we meet some interesting people during our travels.

Oh -- there was also this guy, whose 1930 Model A Ford broke down on the road right in front of our rig. Very nice antique car. Plus, I loved his dog.

Our Sendoff from Ft. Myers Beach

I tend to go in reverse chronological order in these blogs. Below, a few photos from the party our Gulf Waters friends threw for us the day before we left Fort Myers Beach (February 1). We were SO sad to leave them all and come north. Plus the weather in Fort Myers Beach was perfection.

With party hosts and all around great people (featured in a previous blog), Joan and Ed Buck from the Cape. Miss you guys!

Two terrific new gal pals and Gulf Water neighbors, Jackie and Dawne.

They love having parties at Gulf Waters Motorcoach Resort. What a super bunch of people.

On the way up north to the Panhandle we stayed one night at a campground in the boonies of Homosassa, FL.
Yikes. Not for us -- WAY too much like "camping."

Wishing everyone good health, good weather, and safe travels.

Whoops -- almost forgot:  HOW 'BOUT THOSE GIANTS??!!!!  What a great Superbowl.

The GIANTS RULE! (Sorry, Pats fans.)

Tanks, Panky