Okay . . . I'm finally a Floridian

I'm nearing the end of my first year as a Florida resident. The move from NW Ohio seemed as drastic as relocating to a foreign country. Every season in Tampa brought curiosities, frustrations, and wonders.

Summer greeted me with unusual heat. This was no problem since I always worshiped every day of June through August, wishing I could somehow bottle those easy, relaxed days to reopen them when numb during weeks below freezing. I'm passionate about cycling and 90 degree weather only required a second water bottle and extra sunscreen. Although accustomed to stopping for water only when my legs needed a rest, after about ten miles, it took just one bout of dehydration to remember to break much earlier. From hours biking and at the beach my hair bleached to the light color from my childhood – no argument about being blonder.


However, considering from May through October you'd almost die without air conditioning here, I still cannot understand why windows are merely single-paned in Florida – hardly energy efficient. However, my first real annoyance came with some invisible little monsters the natives call no-see-ums, which I'm fairly certain I haven't spelled correctly. As a biology major I'd like to know what their true identity is, so anyone who knows, please tell me. The bites from those critters itched beyond comparison to those from any northern mosquito. Lucky me, I learned my body was ultra sensitive to their toxins. So, I spent many weeks armed with DEET to repel, not deer ticks carrying Lyme disease, but to ward off the wee indectible beasties.

Autumn . . . hmm . . . did it happen? I thought it was still summer when a mid-October trip back to Ohio startled me with pumpkins, Indian corn, and shops scented with cinnamon. After a few days seeing the gray gloom of winter settling over fields of browning corn stalks I wanted my turquoise sky again.

Winter reared an ugly head this past year – extra cold, the coldest on record in nearly eighty years. Again, I dreamed of double-paned windows. Actually, this was my second winter here, since I paid my mother an extended visit the previous winter to help get her settled into a new home. Who could blame me for escaping Toledo ice, snow, sleet, slop? But this winter meant covering plants against frost. My vine, pictured a couple posts down, tolerated it well, probably enjoying its chance to dress up and play ghost.

Spring . . . ah, spring . . . it's paradise. I found that is a commonly held belief. The first warm day I went mall shopping, realizing I didn't have enough summer clothes. To my horror, a late February afternoon, which in Ohio would have been deserted with people hunkered down at home, proved a shopping day from hell. Cars were even parked in creative lawn spots, all others being taken. Mental note – NO SHOPPING ON WEEKENDS IN FEB./MARCH.

I do love the beach. And I love to write at the beach, where this post was drafted. With my legs sprawled out in the lapping surf as I sit in a beach chair, I'm easily inspired to create sensual tales. With your toes wiggling in talcum-powder sand what else could you write? My forthcoming book, Tears on a Tranquil Lake, sprang to life and was largely written while there. It's easy to understand why I wrote about the life and loves of a mermaid, falling for and deciding who to trust, the merman who turned her or a smooth-talking pirate captain. Look for this to be released on February 1st next year from MuseItHot publishing and enjoy the beach along with me!