12 Oakdale

We were 23 miles from dropping Peg at her cruise ship in Port Canaveral, when the truck’s “low fuel” indicator came on. We had 20 miles of gas left, on 528, in the middle of nowhere. Grant had forgotten to fill up when he went grocery shopping, and I didn’t think to check the gauge before we left.  Usually I cherish this last unbuilt area of Central Florida. Now, not so much. Fortunately, with Google Map’s help, Peg found a set of gas stations just one exit south of the 528 and I95 intersection. We rolled into the BP with 3 miles to spare. Who needs cardio exercises when we can just scare our hearts into racing? All good. We’d given ourselves plenty of time to have lunch at Grills before she left on her bluegrass cruise to the Bahamas. Grant and my trip back to Windermere was less eventful, and I certainly will be sure the truck is fueled up before we pick her up on Friday. Saturday I volunteered at our ToW Tree Board’s annual tree giveaway, stationed where we actually load the tre...

I got up at 6:00, later than normal, since I’d stayed up to midnight watching the Florida vs FSU football game, where the teams traded scores back and forth, until the last seconds when UF couldn’t make their  touchdown to tie the game into overtime. Final score: FSU 45, UF 38.  Following my routine, I went pee, then used my headlamp on red to check the scale. 163 lbs, meh. Walking back to bed in the dark, I stepped on something cold and wet. I had done this several months ago, when Gracie had encouraged a Cuban tree frog into the bedroom. *  Both times, it was right under my arch, so no damage other than to my heart. I turned on my lamp, again to red, and tried to locate the dang thing. Gracie helped by playing with the light like laser tag. Not finding it, I turned the light to white, and there it lay, not moving. Because it was a piece of chicken skin. I threw it in the toilet. When he got up, Grant admitted he’d given the cats a treat, but he swore he put it in their...