Captain's Log Stardate 2012.6.7
It's been nearly a year since my last blog post so I kinda felt like I should start this one with some sort of significant log-in. Not a Trekkie fan? How about this.
Bless me Father for I have sinned, it has been 10 months since my last . . . blog post.
While I'm not a Catholic, I survived 12 years of Catholic school so I think that gives me a pass on mocking the confessional.
Speaking of confessions, I have to confess I have missed my blog. But I've also had major writer's block. That's because 10 months ago my whole world changed and it's been hard to find my voice. Namely, my cast of characters changed. Beloved moved on to greener pastures. The Big Kids have all left the nest. It's just Mini-Me and me, Florida Native Mom, left to wander around this big house. But as Mini-Me said when all this change went down "Mom, it's like a new adventure."
Thus the Star Trek reference.
I would say I'm now boldly going where I've never gone before. But truth is, I've been divorced and a single mom before. So it's kind of like being stuck in a time warp and not in a Rocky Horror Picture Show kind of way.
But now I'm ready to come back to the blogosphere and be my same old wisecracking, sassy self. So here goes.
Florida is home to some weird people. Maybe THE home to weird people (myself included). After living here 40plus years, I thought I'd seen everything. Turns out "thought I'd seen it all" is not a phrase you can ever use in Florida. A few weeks ago, I saw a man riding a moped. Not a scooter or a motorcycle, but a 70s era moped. Big deal, right? Only he had a huge cage strapped to the back with his Macaw in it. A man and his Macaw on a moped. At least I hope it was his bird and he hadn't just swiped it! The bird wasn't crying "Help!" so it was probably all on the up and up.
Wish I had a picture to share but I was just too flabbergasted to react quickly enough, and despite the fact that it was an old moped, that guy sure did move! Leaving me without an opportunity to stop and get a shot.
I would have loved to know where they were going . . .