Month: March 2026

Maxine and I spent part of today in Tampa before we had to check in for our flight home. We first headed to the river walk. It was just okay: pretty, but devoid of culture.

It didn’t take long before we hightailed it to Ybor City, which was founded in the 1880s by cigar manufacturers and immigrants from Cuba, Spain, and Italy. We stopped here last year at the end of spring break and ate at the historic Columbia restaurant but didn’t have time to explore.

It wasn’t long before we heard Irish music floating between Cuban-influenced brick buildings with iron balconies. The James Joyce Irish Pub was hopping (it’s St. Patty’s Day, after all). They let us in once Maxine had two black xes drawn on her hands with sharpie. We shared a long table with green-clad revelers as I drank my beer and Maxine her Shirley Temple. We vowed we wouldn’t be caught without proper attire next St. Patty’s Day.

After we left the bar and stepped back out into the crisp sunny day, we soon came upon Ybor’s free-roaming chickens. Based on their lack of caution around people, I surmised not everyone adhered to the signs advising people not to feed the chickens.

We didn’t have anything to offer beyond our flattery; they are quite beautiful. I think the signs should read, “Please admire the chickens.”

and I do not stay the same age.

Maxine and I are staying at my husband’s parents’ home in Sarasota for our beach getaway while they are on a repositioning cruise.

Chris first brought me here on our first vacation together back in 2001, two years before we were married. I remember being entranced by the palm trees along the driveway, the pool beckoning as the centerpiece of the house that wraps around three sides of the lanai, and the elegant Japanese dining room furniture they had shipped here when his dad was stationed on Okinawa in the late ‘80s.

Over time, as their three children married and had kids of their own, the oriental rugs became perpetually littered with Legos, wicker breakfast table chairs were pushed aside to make room for a high chair, and the once-pristine pool deck sprouted a fence that ran around the pool.

Our visits here became less frequent as the kids got older and accumulated more obligations at home and his parents began traveling more in their retirement. The frequency with which we came here peaked in the years around 2010, so most of my associations with Sarasota involve taking the kids to tropical playgrounds, going for a run between their nap times, visiting the aquarium so they could crowd around the touch tanks, and keeping them away away from freshwater ponds and creeks.

It’s much more leisurely these days. I have to apply only my own sunblock. Maxine can feed herself her own veggies. I am not in danger of stepping on a stray Lego with bare feet. I am not worried about being judged for letting my baby sleep with me or being inflexible about their nap schedules (this could be its own post, but that’s for another time).

But…I wouldn’t turn down a day with those little ones, wiping their sticky hands and wrestling them to the ground to reapply sunblock in the blazing sun. Then I’d be more than happy to return to watching the sun go down as I sit next to my daughter who has become a young woman and a dear confidant.

Our 6:00 PM flight finally took off at 10 PM last night because of a concerning chemical smell that was believed to be coming from the air traffic controller headquarters, which affected all the airports in the DC area and Richmond. I guess we can count ourselves lucky we got out at all. That put us in Tampa after midnight, and then we had an hour drive to Sarasota.

*Airport bonus: a large group of middle schoolers were on our same flight, so I could enjoy their antics during the long delay without being in charge of them. A mini-vacation?

After not really sleeping much at all, Maxine and I didn’t hesitate to rouse ourselves by 8:30 this morning to hurry up and relax. Let the unwinding begin.

Well, it’s the middle of March, and I’m an extremely tardy, unofficial nonparticipant in Slice of Life.

I’ve barely taken a breath since our week of snow back at the end of January. I feel I’ve been checking some of the boxes on a behavior survey we sometimes get as teachers.

1. Have I appeared to be “driven by a motor” lately? Yes.
2. How often do I fidget or squirm with my hands or feet when I have to sit down for a long time? Very often. Right now, for instance, the only reason I’m not fidgeting or squirming is because I’m writing this. Maxine and I were booked on a 6:00 PM flight to Sarasota for a little mother-daughter beach vacation for the first part of her spring break. Out flight has been delayed to an 8:30 departure.
3. When you’re in a conversation, how often do you find yourself finishing the sentences of the people you are talking to, before they can finish them themselves? I’m trying desperately not to. I just have so much to do, and I know what they’re trying to say.
4. How often do you have difficulty waiting your turn in situations when turn taking is required? Does excessive foot-tapping count?

Thankfully, I can honestly answer “rarely” or “never” to the other questions, so maybe I don’t have ADHD, but boy, do I need to chill. I’m counting on sand, sun, salt water, and my daughter to help me reset.