When You Snooze . . .

grocery

My honey wanted to buy groceries tonight.  The stores will be too crowded tomorrow, ” he said. “We might not want to go out.”

So, I looked through all the cabinets to see what was needed and made a grocery list. I wouldn’t dare let him go buy groceries without a list. No need to put down any junk food. He will get that anyhow.”

“It isn’t junk food,” he said. “It’s snacks.” Usually we end up with more “snacks” than food when he goes to the store. He buys the large bags of potato chips and cleans out the store’s ice cream case. I have to shop just to be sure we get some real food.

I think that maybe he has “stock-up panic.” But, who cares? He is the one that is going to fight the crowds buying bread and milk.

“If you think of anything else, just call me,” he said as he stepped out the door.

I was cooking supper and getting ready to enjoy a quiet evening at home when I noticed there were no pickles in the fridge. Well, he said to call if I needed anything.

“I’m not even to the store yet!”

Are pickles junk food? Maybe that’s why I forgot to put them on the list. Or maybe I was just too busy with supper.

Later on, I began to wonder where honey was. Surely he can’t be buying that many snacks. It’s nearly 8:00 p.m. Maybe I should call and check on him. Do we need anything else? After all, I don’t want him to know that I’m calling just to check up on him.

He likes to shop. I hate it. If I am buying clothes or something pretty, that’s one thing. But, groceries just don’t excite me. Usually, I’m in and out just as fast as the wheels will roll on the buggy without me getting a speeding ticket or running over a little old lady.

Finally, I gave in and called. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m just now at the frozen foods.”

“What’s taking so long? I was actually getting concerned.

“I’m having a hard time. I can’t find stuff. What kind of frozen French fries do you want? “

“What kind? Who cares! Any kind!”

“Do you want an eight-pound bag?” He must be planning on having French fries with every meal.

“No, just a small size will be enough.”

Thank goodness, I called. He is getting stuff that won’t even fit into the refrigerator. He didn’t understand the list. He stayed on the phone walking up and down the aisles. It’s funny how the store is always sold out of everything when he goes alone.

I thought he was going to hurry. At this rate, he will be there all night. I should have gone with him. I don’t have to spend two hours checking out the snacks when I go.

I finally fell asleep on the sofa watching TV, thinking I would help put groceries away when he got home. When I woke up, he was home in his chair, the weatherman was on TV, and the groceries were put away.

“Did you find everything?” I yawned.

“Everything except the pickles,” he replied.

I felt a little guilty for not helping. “That’s all right,” he said, “It wasn’t that hard.”

He had managed to sneak all the junk food by me and put it away, of course. For some weird reason I have a feeling he may have planned it that way all along.

Copyright 2005-2020 Sheila Moss
Revised

 

Posted in Food, Humor, Shopping | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Little Boy Lost

dollywood_park_map

When I the grandkids found out that I had been to Disney World — without them — well, what could I do except try to make it up to them?

So that’s how the weekend at Dollywood — with grandchildren — came about.

I’m too old for that. If I wanted to go to amusement parks, I should have stayed young. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option on the menu.

It wouldn’t be so bad if I could keep up with people. But somehow my honey seems to keep getting himself lost. Of course, to hear him tell it, it’s everyone else that is lost. He knows exactly where he is.

He reminds of a time when my kids were small and my son got lost at an amusement park. We all got on a ride, and when we looked around to count noses, my son was missing.

A lost child is a parent’s worse nightmare. I imagined all sorts of terrible things, but there was no way to get off the ride and search until it was over. We found him at the “lost children” center, eating an ice cream cone.

Ever since then I’ve been nervous about being separated from people in a crowd. My kids are the ones with tags pinned to their shirts with their name, address, and phone number on them, just in case.

Now I have to worry about losing my honey, who is a grown man. Thank goodness for cell phones so we can call each other if we become separated.

At Universal Studios in Florida, we were all walking along together when honey stopped to take a picture. The logical thing would be for him to continue walking down the street until he caught up with everyone.

He didn’t.

When we realized he was not with us, we stopped and waited. We tried to call his cell phone, but his battery was dead. Well, he’s a grown man. Surely he would realize that he was lost, find a phone somewhere and call us.

He didn’t.

Since the place was closing down for the day, we decided to go to the gate and wait. We wondered if there was a place for lost grownups to go. Surely he would know not to leave the park without us.

He didn’t.

He waited for us outside the gate. Finally, he saw us inside. “Where did you guys go?” he asked.

So, you can imagine my panic when we walked into the park at Dollywood and honey disappeared the moment we were inside the gate. Surely, after the Universal Studios incident, he remembered to charge his phone this time.

He didn’t.

When he eventually found us again, we made emergency plans to meet at the fountain if we became separated. We spent a lot of time at the fountain.

I don’t know why it is that he can’t seem to remember to charge his phone and can’t seem to stay with the rest of the group. Maybe he hopes that someone will find him and give him an ice cream cone.

I’ve had other people tell me stories of becoming separated from children in department stores or crowds. Usually, it is one problem child that seems to have a knack for getting away from them.

Did I mention the time honey jumped on the transit subway at the airport just as the door slammed, leaving me standing on the platform? I didn’t think so. I try to forget that little fiasco.

All I know is that the next time we go anywhere with large crowds, my honey will be the one wearing the name tag with his name, address, and my cell phone number on it.

Copyright 2008 Sheila Moss
Posted in Entertainment, Humor, Travel | Tagged , , , , , , | 6 Comments

What Good Is Life

susan

I said goodbye to a former supervisor, the kind of goodbye you say when you’ve known someone for a very long time that is leaving your life, possibly never to return again. I hadn’t really thought about how she had influenced my life until now.

Although I’ve worked for her a number of different times through the years in one capacity of another, I couldn’t think of a single anecdote to tell on the spur of the moment at her going away party. Now that it’s too late, I can think of a dozen.

She is someone who always has a good attitude and a sense of humor about life. I attribute one of my most frequently quoted sayings to her. Once when she was rebuked by the “powers that be” for being overly enthusiastic, she replied, “What good is life if you can’t have fun?”

She probably doesn’t even remember that she said it, but I do and it had a profound affect on my life. Whenever anyone criticizes my sense of humor or wonders why I write silliness instead of engaging in more worthwhile endeavors, I remember her words.

Although we traveled in different directions, somehow our paths seemed to cross through the years. I remember the first time I ever laid eyes on her. She was in the office of my then current boss, scattering papers left and right looking for something.

“Who is she?” I asked one of my co-workers. We finally found out that she knew the my boss well and they had even written a book together. I guess she never knew how close I was to calling the security guard to throw her out that day.

Eventually she transferred and came to the office where I worked, the folks at her old office gave her the telephone receiver to bring with her, saying she was going to miss it too much to leave it behind. She talked a lot. The receiver hung on the wall of her new office like a trophy for a long time.

I remember that she once wrote a memo to the Director of Budget asking for something or another that she thought was needed. She addressed it to “Queen of the Purse Strings.” The reference was squashed somewhere in the approval process. I don’t know if the Queen would have found it funny or not, but the Director of Budget was forever privately known as Queen of the Purse Strings after that.

When her supervisor, left for a different job, we had a little party with cake and punch. She was asked to say a few words about what a good boss he was and so on. After saying the expected things about how much he would be missed, she couldn’t resist adding that he would be most remembered for forgetting to give breaks in his meetings, which were so long that participants should be issued catheters.

She played Christmas music on a keyboard for our office Christmas parties, but was also a respected professional in her field. She was self-assured and we always knew that she could do whatever she needed to do and could handle any situation that came up and do it well.

I guess she was what some people might call a “character.” She received a better offer from a company on the other side of the state and decided to move. It was an opportunity too good to refuse. We miss her, but our loss is someone else’s gain.

Probably she influenced my philosophy of life as much as anyone ever has. I wish I could have thought of all this stuff to say before she left. Why is it that your mind goes blank and you can’t think of a single funny story when you need one?

I know she will be a dedicated professional but also continue spreading smiles and laughter wherever she goes because she always does. And as she always says, “What good is life if you can’t have fun?”

Copyright 2007 Sheila Moss
Posted in Humor, Work Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Barbara and the Dishes

cups

Barbara was a lot of fun to be around, kind and generous, and a wonderful friend. But she hated to do dishes worse than anyone I’ve ever known, before or since. When we were young people, no one had a dishwasher. Dishwashers were a luxury. Dishes were washed by hand and dried or allowed to air-dry the old fashioned way.

Barbara and I worked in the same office. We both had husbands named David. The two Davids eventually met through us and we all became friends. We were young married couples and budgets were tight, so instead of other entertainment, we hung out together, drank coffee, played cards or watched TV, something that didn’t cost money. Every weekend either we were at their house or they were at ours.

Sometimes we grocery shopped together and that was the weekend entertainment. Barbara taught me a lot about cooking, and gave me recipes that I still have. We couldn’t afford to eat out. Carry-out Jack Salmon from Uncle Charlie’s was only two dollars then and we could only afford that once in a while.

My husband and I were living in a four room flat and Barbara and Dave had a small two-bedroom house that they were buying from her husband’s parents who had moved to better digs. It was pretty run down, but at least it was a house. We spent a lot of time day-dreaming about the homes we would like to have some day and looking at house plans and decorating magazines.

Barbara liked company, and we seemed to spend more time at their place than at ours. Sometimes we ate Sloppy Joe’s, which were made by browning a pound of hamburger and pouring a bottle of ketchup over it. We ate the meat on buns, or if we were out of buns, we ate it on plain sandwich bread. Other times we grilled hamburgers or hot dogs, which didn’t mess up as many dishes.

As I said, Barbara’s weakness was dirty dishes. There were a lot of them since they cooked and ate at home from necessity. A reasonable person would do dishes each day so they didn’t pile up. In Barbara’s case, she would rather do something else — anything else — rather than wash dishes. The sink was always full and usually the cabinet was piled high as well. As long as there were any clean dishes, or any paper plates, she didn’t see a need to do them.

Sometimes she would invite us over and dishes had not been done in a week. I often helped her catch up, but a few days later the situation would be the same. I convinced her to fill the sink up with water so they could soak and be easier to wash. They still waited until scum formed. Eventually, she would run out of cooking pots or have an attack of ambition, and resort herself to doing the task she hated.

I learned to accept dirty dishes as a part of Barbara that was not going to change. She didn’t mind housekeeping, vacuuming, dusting, polishing furniture, and she liked doing laundry, even ironing. I’m sure she was tired after working all day and cooking, as well as taking care of her small child, and that was part of it. But her aversion to doing dishes was still legendary.

Over time, our friendship eventually faded and we drifted apart, not for any particular reason, but just because interests change and people move on. I don’t know if she ever got that dream home or not. I hope she did. But more than anything, I hope she got a dishwasher and that it is stainless steel and heavy duty with a pot scrubbing cycle and lots of buttons to push.

Barbara was a great friend, but she hated to do dishes more than anyone I’ve ever known.

Copyright 2008 Sheila Moss
Posted in Friends, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Hello Spring

Buttercup

Spring is totally out of control. Why can’t we have proper seasons like we used to have? The seasons need to learn to behave and come and go when expected. Wasn’t it only a few weeks ago that it was snowing? Now, suddenly, and with no warning whatsoever, the pear trees are blooming and the kids are playing baseball.

I’m still wearing turtle-neck sweaters, for heaven sakes!

Winter came and went so fast that I hardly knew it was here. I know time flies when you are having fun, or at least that’s what I’ve heard, but I’m not having fun yet. Could someone please issue a memo to Mother Nature to slow things down a bit until I can get my act together?

Before the grass had a chance to turn green, the lawn folks were calling to come and fertilize the lawn. “It’s too early,” I told them. “Wait until time for dandelions.” They waited a week. With all that fertilizer on it, the grass is growing its silly roots off.

The lawn mowing guy has called me three times already “I see you fertilized the lawn,” he said. “Are you ready for me to start mowing?” I knew it — stupid fertilizer has it growing like its on steroids. But it’s still winter, I thought. “Just start whenever it looks ready,” I said. He came the same day.

The buttercups have been blooming for weeks, but buttercups never did have any sense. They will bloom in the snow if you don’t watch them. Then my pink hyacinth had to do its thing. No use talking to it. Hyacinths don’t listen worth a flip.

I haven’t even raked the dead leaves that blew in during winter, much less thought about planting flowers. I’m certain that the garden centers couldn’t possibly have the spring plants out yet. I haven’t checked, of course, but they couldn’t do that to me.

Do you suppose I am going to have to do yard work? I see a few wild weeds starting to spring up and those green onions are a foot high. Oh, my aching back. How I hate green onions.

Maybe I won’t plant any flowers this year. I say that every year, though, and then I see the flats of flowers at Wal-Mart and can’t help myself. There is something in my brain that snaps in spring and makes me think I’m a farmer.

“Look, Mother Nature, can we make a deal? Turn back the clock a few weeks and I’ll try to be ready by then. You know what happens when you jump the gun. Jack Frost comes along and nips you in the bud, right where it hurts.”

If I were in charge of the seasons, I would put things on a schedule and not deviate from it. Flowers in March? Trees in bloom?

Not on my watch!

After I have done spring cleaning, put away winter clothes, called the termite folks out for an annual inspection, and checked out the garden shop, then I’ll consider inviting spring to come around. Flowers will bloom in May, and summer will arrive in June when it is supposed to, the way a civilized season ought to behave.

Now, that’s the way it would be if I were in charge.

But I’m not in charge. Spring is either drunk or losing its mind. The robins have been around so long they are growing beards and flowers are popping out of the ground in full bloom. You can’t reason with a wild-eyed season.

Anyhow, it’s time for my spring break now. If nobody else worries about nature acting frivolously, why should I? If spring comes before winter, baseball starts in December, the cow jumps over the moon and the dish runs away with the spoon, don’t call me. Take your complaints to Mother Nature.

Copyright 2008 Sheila Moss
Updated 2020
Posted in Humor, Plants/Gardening, Weather | Tagged , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Invisible Snow

snow

Wow, just look at all the snow! The city must be buried. I knew there would be snow. The weatherman said so, 1 to 2 inches, the biggest snowfall of the season so far. I knew that it would snow. The weatherman promised. But, it must be invisible. I can’t see any snow.

The kids are going wild with the anticipation of being out of school and running in and out of the house all day to make snowballs and snowmen. Most schools are closed, since the weatherman said the weather was definitely going to be bad. You’re not going to believe this, but I can’t see those snowmen either. Something must be wrong with my eyes.

The adults went wild yesterday too with the usual snow panic when the weatherman predicts a snowstorm. Everyone went to the grocery store to “stock up” for the big storm — everyone but me. I’ve really messed up. Don’t know how I’ll get though all those invisible snowdrifts to make it to the store today.

I went to work as usual today. Traffic was light due to the invisible ice on the roads. Most people must have stayed home to enjoy the invisible snow and eat the bread and milk they bought yesterday. If I can’t make it home tonight due to the invisible ice and snow, it will be my own fault. I can’t say I wasn’t warned.

The papers are predicting a second round of snow tonight. Second round? Then the first round must be out there — somewhere. The paper also invited people to send in pictures of the snow. Funny, when I take pictures, the snow doesn’t show up. Too bad. No one will believe how beautiful this invisible snow is without pictures.

Good thing the city was ready for the snow this time. They loaded the salt trucks and sprayed the streets with brine yesterday. The paper explained what brine is; apparently saltwater is a new thing around here. Brine prevents the snow from sticking until the snowplows can remove it. All I can say is those snowplows have done a fantastic job. I can’t see a flake of snow anywhere.

Someone said that weathermen get bored due to the lack of exciting weather events to predict. So when we have a really big storm front like this, they get a little carried away. Thank goodness they let us know about it ahead of time. It would be terrible to be buried in invisible snow and not even know it.

I haven’t heard how many inches of invisible snow we have out there. They seem to be strangely silent about it. You would think that after all the exciting predictions, school closings, panic shopping, missed worked, brined roads, loaded salt trucks and gassed-up snowplows that they could at least tell us how many inches of invisible snow we have.

I have to say one thing about the weathermen; they haven’t backed down an inch. By golly, they predicted snow and if it doesn’t come today then it’s going to come tomorrow. And by the time tomorrow gets here, they will have consulted their radar, weather satellites, barometers, thermometers, almanacs and witch doctors to come up with some explanation for all this invisible snow.

We know all the excuses: The cold front disintegrated just before it got here. It took a strange turn and went south of us. It went north and snowed just a few miles away from where we are. The barometric conditions were not right in the upper atmosphere. It snowed but vaporized before it hit ground. It’s due to global warming.

Of course, everyone knows the real explanation. Weathermen don’t look out the window to see what it’s doing outside. They are too busy studying their radar, charts and instruments and predicting invisible snow.

If I didn’t know that it was invisible, I’d swear that it didn’t snow at all.

Copyright 2007 Sheila Moss
Posted in Humor, Weather | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Dry as Arizona – Not

windshieldI feel as if I’ve been driving around in the rain all day — probably because I have. If I had gone in a straight line instead of loops and circles, I could have been to Arizona by now, where it’s dry.

It all started this morning when I got up and it was pouring down rain again. It seems to do a lot of that lately.

I usually ride to work with honey. “It’s raining,” he said, as if I hadn’t noticed. “Didn’t you hear what they said on TV? There are already two wrecks on the interstate. We need to leave early.”

Early? I am having a hard time getting ready late.

Anyhow, I rushed around and we left. It wasn’t until we were 5 miles down the road that I remembered I had forgotten something — my car.

“Take me back!” I forgot I needed to drive my own car. “I have to leave early today.”

“I’ll never get to work,” he grumbled. “Why don’t you just use my car and then come back and get me after work? It’s easier.”

“Easier for whom?” I wondered.

But, that’s what we did. Traffic was awful, as it usually is when it rains, and we didn’t want to return to GO and start over.

Only three hours later, it was time for me to leave work. I drove back home in the rain to pick up my daughter for her doctor’s appointment, which was 10 miles in the opposite direction.

I pick up my own car and it was out of gas, naturally. It must be a law that cars always need gas when it’s raining.

After the doctor, we had prescriptions to get filled, so I might as well shop for groceries while we are out, and I won’t have to do it later in the rain. (Instead, I will do it now in the rain.)

Thank goodness my garage door opener was working. I’ve been fighting with it all winter. It works when it feels like it, and that’s usually not when it is raining.

Thirty minutes at home, and it’s time to drive back to town to pick up honey. Now his car is out of gas, so I had to stop at the gas station again. Traffic is its usual miserable self, so it takes twice as long as it should to get to town.

On the way back home there was no use taking the interstate. I saw on my way into town that traffic coming out was a 25 mile long parking lot. So, we came home on back roads through the puddles.

What a miserable day. I’m too tired to cook. “Let’s go to a restaurant.” Did I mention that it was still raining?

Honey, who had been in his nice dry office all day, decided that we needed a few things from the grocery store while we were out. “Why didn’t you call me when you were there?” he asked.

I waited in the car while he went inside and watched people fight for parking places in the rain. Boy, if someone backs out and another car is waiting, a different car better not even think about pulling in that place.

Have you noticed how there are never any parking places near the front of the lot when it rains? But all those places are suddenly empty after you’ve already parked.

“I’m not filling up the gas tank tonight,” honey said. Good idea.

When I finally got home for the fifth time today, I decided I was not going anywhere else, regardless, not even Arizona where it’s dry. If Arizona needs me, it will have to come here.

Copyright 2008 Sheila Moss
Posted in Humor, Weather | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

My, What Big Teeth You Have

BluetoothLet’s get this straight right from the beginning, we are not talking about a tooth in someone’s mouth, we are talking about a Bluetooth in someone’s ear. If you think it sounds like some sort of deformity, you are probably right. However, it is mental deformity, not a physical one.

I’ve been seeing Bluetooth mobile headsets on people’s ears for a while. It seems that every one who thinks they are anyone has to have a Bluetooth.

What is a Bluetooth headset? It uses technology to communicate wirelessly with a cell phone. Actually, Bluetooth technology allows all sorts of electronic devices to communicate with each other wirelessly at close range, like digital cameras and hand held computers, kind of like baby Wi-Fi.

But I am referring here to people who communicate with their cell phone via their ear tooth, which used to look like a big blue fang. Bluetooth, however, was supposedly not named for the carnivorous looking headset, but after some Danish Viking named Bluetooth. Poor fellow.

Bluetooth innovators didn’t care how they look with that fang hanging on their ear. Now, however, Bluetooth technology is more likely to take the form of tiny earbuds. It used to be that we only had to worry about people doing things with one hand while holding a cell phone glued to their ear. Now we have to worry about the sanity of people talking on a cell phone with both hands free.

Bluetoothers claim they are being safe because they can have their hands free while driving. Of course, that doesn’t mean they have their mind free. They still are paying attention to what’s in their ear and not to what’s in front of their eyes. Besides, if they are interested only in safety, while are they on elevators with these monstrosities?

If you think cell phone users are annoying, you must find Bluetoothers infuriating. They carry on conversations while ignoring you as if you are not there. I remember when people walking around talking to themselves were considered mentally ill.

Am I supposed to ignore this jabbering person as if they are not talking? Doesn’t this make me look as crazy as they are? Or am I suppose to politely listen, without being a part of the conversation? It probably doesn’t matter as the Bluetoother is in la-la land anyhow.

Some people can’t seem to do anything without talking to someone else about it. The other day I was in a store shopping. Another shopper carried on a constant conversation with someone unseen via Bluetooth.

“I’m shopping for clothes,” she said. “I found something that I sort of like.” She describes it and asks the other person’s opinion. And as soon as she hung up, the phone rang again. “I’m shopping for clothes,” she said.

Of course, people who have to talk on the phone all the time have been a major pain to the rest of us ever since telephones became portable. Bluetooth communication is a status symbol. So, why am I not impressed? It doesn’t show me anyone’s importance at all, only that they have nothing worthwhile to occupy their time except excessive chatter.

The best way to turn them off is to look at the Bluetoother intently and make it obvious that you are clinging to every word. They want you to “hear,” but not to “listen.” Invariable, they whisper, “I’ll call you back later.”

I’m really concerned about people walking around talking to themselves. How do we know if it’s the Bluetooth syndrome or if they need to be on Prozac? Personally, I intend to be extra careful around these Bluetoothers. What if that Bluetooth can bite?

Copyright 2008 Sheila Moss

 

NOTE: I usually get some negative comments about this article from Bluetooth users who have various reasons for using the device. It’s okay. I have tough skin so if you want to disagree, go for it. We all have our opinions, and sometimes I just have to rant about mine.

Posted in Humor, Technology | Tagged , , , , , , | 8 Comments

More about Disney World

orangetreeDriving in snow was not one of our planned activities, but while driving from Nashville to Orlando in January, it snowed on us in Atlanta. We thought we were going away from winter weather, not into it. The snow seemed to be trying to follow us south.

The door frame on the rental car was lower than I am used to and I kept bumping my head when I would get in or out. Disney World is billed as “The Place Where Dreams Come True,” but I hadn’t intended to knock myself in the head to find out.

There are a lot of orange trees in Central Florida. I thought they only grew in orange groves where they are planted, but apparently they grow wild too — either that or the birds planted a lot of seeds. I had the same idea about palm trees, but they are native too, or at least some species are.

People keep asking me if I took my grandchildren to Disney World. It may seem a bit strange for adults to go to Disney World without children, but there actually are a lot of things for adults to do. In fact, both Disney and Universal have areas with night clubs that are geared towards adults instead of kids.

We wanted to get caricatures drawn while at Universal. My sister and brother-in-law didn’t want one, so they decided they would wait in Pat O’Brien’s, one of the clubs. After the pictures were finished, we joined them. It was a fun place and I would say more but better to just say what happens in Pat O’Brien’s stays at Pat O’Brien’s.

The bill for souvenirs turned out to be a pretty good chuck of change. They sell these cute Disney character pins from kiosks all over the place. They encourage you to collect them; one or two isn’t enough. All the rides end in a giftshop. That’s why I bought so many pins and key chains — at least that’s my story anyhow.

At one point, I decided to get a frozen margarita from one of the kiosks at Epcot and had to pay $9 for it. While I was drinking it, everyone decided to go on one of the few rides that were tame enough for me to ride. No food was allowed on the ride, so everyone ended up standing around waiting for me to finish drinking it. No way was I throwing away a $9 drink! Later we decided to eat Mexican fast food. Never eat Mexican fast food after drinking a margarita as fast as you can and riding a thrill ride.

At our condo we were lured into a timeshare presentation by promises of free food and discounted tickets. It isn’t worth the aggravation, folks. I would give them food and cheap tickets to avoid sitting through it. Talk about high pressure sales tactics. After it was over, the ticket guy had two price lists, one for the suckers and one for the people that remembered what they were promised before the presentation.

Nobody we met there was a native of Florida. I suppose that it was because we were in the places where tourists go, places that natives avoid. My honey was obsessed with looking for people from Pennsylvania since he used to live there. It seems that there are a lot of people from Pennsylvania who move to Florida to get away from the cold weather.

We were tired and overslept the morning we were supposed to leave. Fortunately, I had packed the night before. After dragging all the suitcases and bags of souvenirs on the elevator and downstairs to the car, we realized too late that the place had luggage carts. Oh, well.

Orlando was a lot of fun and I’m ready to do it again —  after I rest for about 10 years.

Copyright 2008 Sheila Moss
Posted in Humor, Travel | Tagged , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Winter Vacation at Disney

photo of castle during daytime

Photo by Craig Adderley on Pexels.com

We were welcomed to Florida by torrential rain, thunder and lightning, tornado warnings and timeshare salesmen. We were warned about the poisonous snakes,
but nobody mentioned the deadly bite of the timeshare salesman, common to central Florida.

Florida likes tourists who bring dollars to their economy. Tourists are building them a new highway system for central Florida. They stopped us every 500 feet, not to thank us, but to collect another toll.

We were visiting Orlando, home of Mouseland USA and the Disney princess makeover. Signs warned us not to feed the birds as they might become aggressive. However, the birds were not nearly as aggressive as the flocks of screaming kids dressed as their favorite Disney fairy tale princess, complete with gowns, jeweled tiaras, and glitter in their hair extensions.

In order to further enrich their economy, we decided to visit a Disney Theme Park. We chose Disney Animal Kingdom, which is part zoo, part amusement, and part
hang-out for teenagers. There are an extraordinary number of foreign tourists at Disney World. They all wear identical warm-up suits and follow a guide with a tall flag. More languages are spoken there than at the U.N.

Since we didn’t like Disney Animal World much, we decided to visit Disney Epcot later in the week. Notice how everything in Orlando starts with the word “Disney?” At Disney Epcot, everyone rode the rides except me. I held my aching back and all the cameras and purses while everyone else had fun.

The highlight of the day was when I got my picture made with Mickey Mouse himself. My sister had a picture made with the Chip & Dale chipmunks – not to be confused with the Chippendale dancers.

After visiting two parks, we were getting in the spirit and decided to visit yet another park that I had not seen before, Universal Studio. The main similarity of the parks was that all the rides ended in gift shops. I expected to see Bugs Bunny, Porky Pig and Daffy Duck, but apparently they are not Universal property. Instead I saw Hulk, Spiderman, and the Cat in the Hat.

At some point while walking down Hollywood Boulevard, we realized that my man was missing. After we looked everywhere, he finally turned up at the front entrance. I suppose it could be worse — we could have lost him in Jurassic Park among the dinosaurs.

Probably it sounds as if all we did is visit theme parks; however, we did other things as well, such as shop for over-priced souvenirs. Put Disney or Mickey Mouse on anything and the price is automatically doubled. No wonder it is called the Magic Kingdom. We could have gone to a real magic show, but since we had already made my man disappear once, we decided to pass on it.

My sister knew about a State Park where you were supposed to be able to see manatee, aquatic animals something like walrus or seals, except they are vegetarian and like warm waters. We went on a boat tour to see them. We saw a lot of exotic birds, turtles, alligators and some grey streaks in the water that were supposed
to be manatee.

On the way to the State Park, we had stopped at a combination grocery store and gift shop. Everything is part gift shop and part something else. There are fast food gift shops, gas station gift shops, theater gift shops, and just plain gift shops.

Anyhow, that was my Florida vacation. As the cartoon bubble said at Universal Theme park, “I need a vacation from my vacation.”

Copyright 2008 Sheila Moss
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