I have learned over the years that wherever one travels, so too do social expectations and norms. Life is what you make it within these parameters. Some good, some bad, some ugly. It is these chapters that make our stories complete. With that, I introduce you to my latest adventure, “Beer  30”. I prefer to coin this social gathering “Beverage 30” as to tame it’s suggested theme. First, a brief history lesson. How did Beer 30 begin?

In late summer of 2004, Hurricane Charley hit the Gulf side of Florida with a vengeance. Death, devastation, and billions of dollars in damages prevailed. My condo complex had not been spared. Missing windows, roofs and the like were long lost. Owners Babs and Rusty headed up a plan to repair and recover from Charley’s wrath. Saving time, red tape and money, it was accepted that condo association members would come together and complete the necessary reparations.

Throughout the fall, cooperative work teams began in the early morning hours and ended by late afternoon. Many of the women provided support with meals and beverage. Rusty informed his team of workers to report daily to the pool by 3:30 p.m. to share progress and any problems encountered. Rusty provided a case of beer and there you have it. “Beer/Beverage 30” was born!

Today, a Happy Hour of sorts commences daily at poolside. Old friends and new gather for a dose of world events, war stories, family woes and blessings, giggles and of course, beverage. A lovely assortment of Snowbirds come together from the Midwest, East Coast, and Canada. Libations are a must, alcoholic or non, along with a snack or two.

I have spent two seasons with this pack of misfits, comrades, war heroes, and dear friends. The usuals include Babs and Rusty, Maxine and JW, Pippa and Hans, Sandy and Rick, Marcia and Skip and let’s not forget dear friends Kay, Janie and their loving spouses, Tim and Lon. I would be amiss if I did not let in the one and only, Speedo SteveO and his lovely, Miss Sophia. Jokes are shared, secrets revealed and accomplishments celebrated. Two subjects are off limits, religion and politics.

Including myself, there are a few loyal singles that add to the liveliness of clean gossip and banter. Bird, a retired fireman, Debra, a llama farmer, Jungle Jimmer who manages a forest of plants surrounding his condo, and last but not least, our most senior sage for advice, Mr. George. All in all, good times are had and memories made.  We are a family of sorts. Love is alive and well.

Just this season, Babs was surprised by a celebration of her 80+ birthday.  Mr. George celebrated 90+ years of life with his personally designed party. He included a select choice of snacks, Chocolate Vodka and Jagermeister sippers. He continues to celebrate his birthday monthly as, “one never knows.”

Sandy and her loyal guitar provided singalongs. Rusty added random one liner tunes for added entertainment.  Maxine and JW held the gatherings in style with their southern charm, occasional wit and vast knowledge of boating.

Lastly, Beverage 30 was often entertained by the stylish tans and fashions of Speedo SteveO and Miss Sophia. Use your imagination with SteveO’s usual pool attire and I need not say more. Sporting his well-oiled tan and 80+ years, he and Sophia communed with the sun and water as the Beverage 30 gang carried on. In addition, they unknowingly contributed to Beverage 30’s light commentary.

I have learned much from my experiences of Beverage 30. Happy stories of love, marriages, grandchildren, and health victories to name a few. On a more serious note, tales of medical treatments, ailments, and yes, death have tainted the happiness of this family. But this is life in its finest. The good, the bad, and yes, the ugly.

Meeting so many new people have added immensely to my friendship base. I am truly at home here and feel loved. I share a giggle or two and have provided many a “Lucy” moments for their entertainment. Rarely a dull moment, Beer/Beverage 30 will long continue after I am gone. It must. It’s tradition and family!

Lessons Learned

Our lives may change, but family and friends seldom do. The last few years of my life have been renewed in so many ways. Long time friends Kaye and Janie have given me just that. New friends with my Snowbird family and their unending love and acceptance.

Live your life today and enjoy those moments.  All that we have saved for can be gone in a flash. Good health for one. Spend that hard earned dollar. Vacation. Laugh. Love. Become that Snowbird. Enjoy!

Thanks for reading!

Good Calamity.  I have lived this oxymoron since early childhood. Today’s piece is just that. Grab that favorite beverage, a few snacks, your dog, or cozy cover up and enjoy a serving of good calamity. Mid summer, on the farm, sibling fun and of course, Momma at the helm.  Circa, 1960ish.

Early rising of sun and summer were in full swing. The usual breakfast of oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar satisfied our tummies. Momma had inside work and quickly sent us out to begin chores and move on to adventurous fun.  Feed and water the 200+ chicks, slop the pigs, and fill the water tank for our small herd of cattle. Simple enough as our imaginations continued to invent the day.

Following chores, several of us made a trek across the corn field in search of the big one. Water buckets in hand we headed to the county ditch in search of fish, turtles and the like. Frankie had his handmade fishing pole complete with baling twine “fish line “ and hook fashioned from a large diaper pin. His live bait of worms would come from under rocks planted along the ditch banks. Our dreams were full as we shared high hopes of fresh fish or turtle soup for dinner!

It took little time to realize that minnows, slugs and blood suckers were all that inhabited this lakeless experience. Frankie’s pole and hook came in handy, however, as he used them to unlatch blood suckers from our feet and ankles. Dragging our empty containers, we sauntered home barefoot, muddy, and hungry.  Oblivious to our luckless adventure, Claudia picked several bouquets of dandelions for Momma.

After a quick lunch, Frankie hatched a new plan. As Zen and Ang finished up the dishes, Frankie anxiously added, “Hey, let’s go up in the hay loft and swing across the barn. Daddy uses that hay sling and rope for movin the hay, it will be perfect!  The pulleys will send us across the barn real fast! We’ll be a circus!” Good sports and followers, Suzi Q. and I joined in the crazy excitement.

I do not recall any fear or trepidation in climbing the built-in, creaking wall ladders to the top of the barn. We swiped gobs of cobwebs and paid no mind to multi-sized, multi-colored spiders. Dust and bird feathers lay thick as we organized ropes and the old, dangling, rusted pullies.  

Zen took the first move as she courageously hugged the sling. Frankie and I pulled the opposite end of the rope. The ill-used pulley did its job. “JUMP NOW!”, Frankie yelled. Screaming with delight, Zen made the maiden voyage, landing in the hay piled below. We took turns riding and pulling as giggles and screams echoed throughout the empty barn. Before long, we were sweaty, covered in dust, and ready for rinsing off with the garden hose.

Good, creative, calamity was a daily ritual for us crazy eights. Danger seldom entered our minds. As long as we were outside with no bickering, tattling, or injuries, Momma was inside at peace.

Occupied with our daily exploring of unknowns, I often recall Momma quietly writing at the kitchen table. Journaling perhaps? Letters to far away relatives? In actuality she was compiling her recipes from memory. Later, these recipes were shared with family and our church for a community cookbook.

I don’t recall any organized recipes in her kitchen, only large mixing bowls, various baking tins, and 25 to 50 pound bags of flour and sugar. No measuring devices, but a large coffee cup and spoons from the silverware drawer served her well.  Breads, cakes and her many comfort meals were created and presented in flavorful and attractive fashion. “From scratch,” she would confidently state.

As a result, Momma submitted countless recipes to the church.  Our all time favorite was a simple Yellow Cake. It was a staple dessert served with the likes of chocolate pudding, lemon sauce, or fresh strawberries.

I chose to share this most unique creation.  Make certain not to ignore her specific directions. Bon Appetit if you must!

Yellow Cake

2 ½ cups flour

1 ⅔ cup sugar

¾ cup milk

⅔ cup shortening

1 teaspoon salt

3 ½ teaspoons baking powder

½ cup milk plus

1 teaspoon vanilla

3 eggs

Sift flour, sugar and salt together. Stop and pull sand burrs from Suzi’s foot and shut the refrigerator door. Add shortening and cream well. Take squirt gun away from Frankie, answer the telephone. Wrong number again. Tell Zen and Ang to get out of that mud puddle! Get Mikey out of his crib, change his diaper and wash your hands. Add beaten eggs, pick shells out of the batter. Answer the phone again. No, Francie cannot go to Debbie’s. Back to the cake. Again, unhook screen door for Frankie to go you know where. Take Ang’s finger out of cake batter, take mixing spoon from Zen and proceed. Give Mikey a cracker to quiet him. Find a vase for Claudia’s dandelions, take June bug out of Francie’s curly locks and tell Claudia to get Mikey out of the bathroom. Pour batter into  a pan and send it out for the pigs. Buy a cake mix. It’s much easier!

There you have it my friends! Momma at her finest, using a little humor while making the best of every day. I so admired her common sense and ability to make our home and farm run like a fine-tuned machine. Life was not perfect or predictable, however, it was always, always an adventure! Good calamity for sure!

Lessons Learned

There’s no love like that of siblings.  Yes there were spats and rivalries, however, love and camaraderie were much stronger.

Farming was hard work, but we always had time to smile and laugh.  Easily said, easily practiced.

Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.  Theodore Roosevelt said it best and that we did!

As always, thanks for reading!

My first winter in the sunny south included sunning, long walks, beaches, wine/whine hours, and meeting new people. Joining long-time friends, Kaye and Janey made certain I was always included.  We often shared giggles and sips as we leisurely browned, ate, and exercised. Great comrades and memories. An additional activity had piqued my interest. Quilt Guild.

Kaye and Janey were long time guild members and expert quilters. Their beautiful, creative works were nothing but blue ribbon quality. “Seriously Francie, go with us to one of the meetings. You’ll be hooked.” championed Janey. “ We have fun and quilting gives us a purpose and great way to collaborate. Please consider this Friday. The coffee and pastries are yummy too!”

Hmmmmm, coffee and treats? Easily persuaded, I was energized to meet others of like mind and spirit. After all, I did sew. Both daughters received handmade quilts I had stitched and guild was beginning to appeal to me. I agreed to attend one meeting to determine my interest.

Attending the weekly meetings began as delightfully fun. Treats, meeting new friends, sharing trade secrets, and lots of happy, joyous gals. I was eagerly accepted into the fold of stitchers. Joining for a minimal fee, I received the book of bylaws and officially received my permanent name tag. What a fun addition to senior/southern activities.

It did not take long before I wasn’t feeling the groove of guild. These women were extreme in their seriousness of the craft. Each week provided them time to share their current projects. Their works were phenomenal, creative, and one-of-a-kind. I would never come close to their artistry or skill. Before long, designing, sewing, and quilting vocabulary took a backseat to coffee and sweets.

“ Francie, you seem to be losing interest, is that right?” inquired Kaye. “Maybe if you sign on for the Mystery Trip with us, you’ll change your mind.” She was right. I so wanted to like this guild, however, the stitching bug just would not bite.

“Kaye, you have always been my guide and loyal friend. Thanks for sensing my need for more from the guild. I’d like to join you and Janey for the trip.” Signing on, I felt a renewed hope in comradie and kinship.

The following Monday the rented bus arrived.  My mind was filled with excitement as I boarded for the day of mystery.  I imagined and thought. Where were we going on this adventure? An out of town play or concert? Possibly a new lunch spot followed by a museum? Maybe a trip to the local casino for some fun. Oh boy! Sweet Kaye slid in next to me as we shared giggles.

The bus filled, all were accounted for, and the wheels began to roll. Thirty-five giddy, anxious women shared my excitement. No words spoken to hint our destination.  “So Kaye, do you have any idea where we are going? ”

“Oh the usual stops and then lunch,  a few more shops, then home around six tonight.  There will likely be a few contests and raffles along the way. You’ll love it!”

“ A shopping trip? That does sound fun. Are there some big malls nearby?” I asked.

“Not so much Francie. There are so many small quilt shops in the area.  We will probably stop at maybe five or so. Can’t wait to see what kind of deals they will offer us to add to my stash.”  She seemed anxious as she peered about the highway. “I’m trying to figure out where we are stopping first.”

“Quilt shops?  That’s where we’re going today? To look at fabrics?  All five stops? And what’s this stash you mentioned?”  I tried to keep my excitement level close to hers but failed miserably. “Kaye, you’re kidding me, right?” I didn’t know what to think.

“No, Francie, I’m not kidding. This is what the mystery trip is all about. We will stop at two or three shops, have lunch and then check a few more places before we head home. Stash is fabric we buy that we like. There may be a project in mind, there may not. Really, it’s fun to collect. Did you have something else in mind?”

“Ahhh, ah, I wasn’t sure what shops we would go. I had no idea, really”, I fibbed.  Quietly I pondered how I would show excitement for these stops. I had no intent on purchasing any patterns, fabric, or like items. I was not a “collector” of anything, especially stash!

Entering the first two shops was over the top,  Eye-catching. beautiful, hand-crafted quilts adorned the walls. Women were scattered about with intricate works as they stitched on monstrous, complicated machines. I was wowed by their compassion and talent. Not interested in purchasing, I oohed and aahed appropriately. I captured stunning works on my phone. I finished my shopping by spending twenty minutes next door at a coffee shop.

All in all, the mystery trip was everything I didn’t imagine! Shop after shop offered  appealing deals, original quilts of many colors and styles, fabrics beyond imagination, and fun for all. My friends in the stitching world had purchased yards and yards of colorful prints, patterns and the like. I was impressed by the immensity of it all, however, my love for quilting did not change.

Though I have little expertise to become a master quilter, Kaye and Janey continue to create and encourage me. I have completed the required lap quilt for a local disadvantaged individual.  The coffee, pastries and fellowship continue to satisfy me. God bless Kaye, Janey, and all the members of the guild. Completed quilts of your many stashes await in Heaven!

Lesson Learned

Quilting is more than stitching. My idea of a “mystery trip” and that of the guild were not similar by any means. I certainly felt like a buffoon questioning terms as, “fat quarters”,“jelly rolls” and “layer cakes.” These ladies took me under their stitching wings to educate and welcome me. God Bless them all!

Friends are the siblings God never gave us.  (Mencius). Thank you over and over Miss Kaye and Janey. We’ve been friends since 8th grade and still going strong. Love you to quilt pieces!

As always, thanks for reading!

In a previous entry I shared the humorous side of my early online dating experiences.  Whether I was the norm or not, these events have helped reconsider my need for a social/forever/travel (fill in the blank) partner. For now, the plan is to continue this online hoopla until my six month agreement expires.

In the meantime, I am enjoying my second season in the sunny south as a “snowbird”. To acclimate, I have chosen to volunteer in a few areas of interest. Suitable time frames and countless opportunities to  meet others, I hope to develop new friendships. Lighthearted, positive and new. Ca Sera Sera.

My church of worship had planned a holiday dinner for the community. A wonderful outreach and great way to share my volunteer efforts. The day arrived and I was given 2 festive tables to serve dinner with all the fixings.  Another person would assist me. He was a gentleman by the name of Les.

“So nice to meet you my lady. Are you new here?  I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Les and well ah, I’m a single man.”

Equipped with a smile, I carelessly replied, “Well, well yes, I am new here and golly, I’m single too! My name is Francine.” We shook hands and exchanged mutual smiles.

“Single and new you say? After serving today, can I entertain you for a glass of red wine? It’s my afternoon ‘tea’”. Les chuckled and provided a slight wink.

Ever so naive, I quipped, “Well now that’s a possibility. Let me think about it.”

Jeeez! Where had I left my brain? Is there a shoe in my mouth?  I’m here to volunteer and serve. Lord, get me out of this mess I’ve started.

We immediately busied ourselves with the many hungry guests. Prayers of thanks were heard at a number of tables as the room quietly filled. What a blessed feeling I had in helping to provide for someone else’s needs.

A slight tap to my back introduced me to another face. “Hi there, John here. I’m working the two tables next to you. I see Les is your partner. You gotta watch him, he’s very single and always hittin on women.” John was an average build, kind eyed man apparently looking out for me. “Just thought you should know,”  he smiled.

“Hello John, I’m Francine and I attend church here. Les is my partner, and I just met him today. He said he attends here too. Thanks for the heads up regarding his friendliness.”  Hmmm, lots of friendly men here. Maybe I need to quit making eye contact and smiling so much.

“Ah Francine, we have a meal coming after we’re done serving today. Would you like to join me at a table? I’ll be your buffer if Les gets pushy.” John was smooth moving and I simply chuckled.

“John, that would be nice, thank you for asking.” I nodded and returned to my tables and guests.

Upon taking guest orders, Les and I made our way to the kitchen to pick up meals. Small talk while we waited. Dinner was in full swing. Just as I turned from the kitchen with my tray loaded with plates, I was stopped by gentleman number three.

“Whoa, looks like you could use some help. I’m Randy and let me take one of those plates from you.” he smiled.

“Thanks Randy, but I think I’ve got this. It’s not heavy.” I assured him.

“No, here, let me help. I see by your tag that you are Francine, right? Are you a member here, you don’t look familiar?”

Oh boy, now what? Was I wearing some invisible sign saying, ‘Talk to me, I’m new and I’m single?” This situation had never occurred to me before. I could not help but giggle inside.

The day of giving began to wane. Randy continued to assist each time I loaded up my tray with meals. We chatted between runs as I learned he was actively involved with the church and welcomed my presence. He was happily married and a pleasure to meet. A new friend. The real deal.

As guests finished their meal, all volunteers settled for dinner and fellowship. I joined John and four others. Les was among them. We blessed our meal and joined in small talk. As we ended our day, Les exited with no mention of our afternoon tea. Blunder on my part averted. Thank you God!

Before I could get up to leave, John leaned in and whispered, “I just lost my wife recently and it’s hard to meet women. I get lonely, but I don’t think I’m ready for this dating thing. Would you ever like to just go out for a coffee sometime?” His eyes had a sadness to them as I patted his arm.

“That would be nice John. As friends. Yes, that would be nice. I’ll see you in church on Sunday.”

Lessons Learned

To make a friend, you must first be a friend. It has always been easy for me to talk to others and make friends. I smile often, establish eye contact and make others comfortable. These gentlemen were doing the same. They were the real deal.

Embrace calm and just breathe.  I so often have to remind myself that I am no longer a teenager. It seems that too much imagination and giddiness surround me! But then again, I wouldn’t be Francine!

Thanks for reading!