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Riding with a Treadmill? No Fishing! Fighting What? A Lap Warmer; Pole Dancing?

It’s been a busy weekend. On Saturday, we helped out Suzanne’s Lovely Mom Ruthie in transporting a treadmill to a lady who needed one. While skeptical that it would fit into the trunk of our little CR-V, Suzanne assured me that it would fit perfectly… and yes, she was right… again.

On Sunday, the National Weather Service forecast rain all day, so I decided to forego my long-planned fishing expedition to Homosassa, which had been carefully planned to remove several large sea trout and a couple of even larger redfish from the coastal Florida fish population. We decided to drive to Clearwater in any case to have our motor coach’s cracked windshield repaired by a highly recommended shop.

But before we left, we went for a bike ride in the now warm and sunny morning (thank you, Weather Service meteorologists). While riding, we saw one of the greatest college tee shirts of all time. Steve Greenberg was wearing a shirt from a school in Mississippi where his daughter had taught for a semester… Delta State, home of the Fighting Okras… Who dat? Yep, the Fighting Okras… One of the toughest, meanest vegetables around.

On the trip down, I decided that Suzanne needed some extra time driving The Bus while I rested. Rudy wanted to come up into my lap, so we dozed while the girls drove… Gretchen wasn’t a big help, because her legs are too short to reach the pedals. Here is Rudy, relaxing in the lap of luxury… (A quick disclaimer:  Gretchen stayed out of the driver’s seat, and this photo was taken while stopped at a red light).

I thought I would be generous and give Suzanne a night off from galley duty.
As we drove through Clearwater, looking for a fish restaurant, My Lovely Bride said, “Oh, no, that isn’t a restaurant, it’s a gentlemen’s club’.”
I replied, “Well, I am a Gentleman!”
My Lovely Bride asked somewhat indignantly, “And what am I supposed to do while you are at the gentlemen’s club watching the pole dancers?”
To which I replied, “Um… Knit?”

SMACK, SMACK!!!! (Gee, that probably wasn’t one of my better answers, was it?)

While driving around town, we saw one guy riding home on a bike with his dinner balanced precariously on the handlebars. A case of Budweiser isn’t the most nutritious of meals, but he appeared to be happy….

We looked into a campground for one night, but it seems that “Snowbird Pricing” has been firmly established for the winter; one night at the local KOA runs $85… No Way! The city doesn’t allow you to stay in Wal-Mart parking lots here, so I had a stroke of genius, and called the auto body shop owner and asked if we could spend Sunday evening in his parking lot. “Of course!”, he said… so here we are, in a light industrial park, spending the night for free, and no “Early Reveille” in the morning to drive to his shop. Sometimes I astonish myself with my cleverness!

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