I spent last Saturday at the Tropical Heatwave festival in Ybor City and have been wanting to share the experience. I hadn’t even heard of the festival until a couple weeks ago, but my new favorite blues partner recommended it and, happily, a friend who’s attended Tropical Heatwave for over 20 years had some extra tickets available (Thanks Charlie!).

We arrived a little late, but still with plenty of time to exhaust ourselves dancing. Though there were few swing-danceable shows, blues dancing is pretty versatile and works for rock, funk, blues and hip-hop tunes, so we started at the Cuban Club, dancing to Beebs and Her Moneymakers (GREAT funk/hip-hop group). There wasn’t much room to work with, but we danced each song until we needed a water break and breather on the balcony.

After Beebs left the stage, we took a minute to do a shoot with Batman:

 then moved downstairs to check out Lipbone Redding and the Lipbone Orchestra (folk/blues/soul) while waiting on the next band – Rocket 88 (rockabilly) – to set up.

Rocket 88 was a great show, but too fast to dance to. The Lipbone show, however, was a favorite for the night. It was perfect music for bluesing, the venue had a great dance floor and it wasn’t too crowded. Plus, we received some unique compliments I won’t soon forget.

Following those shows, we wandered around a while in search of food and other bands, then took a shortcut through the Scientology Tampa HQ campus, ending up at the New World Brewery where we found Greenland is Melting (punk/folk/bluegrass). I could have listened to them all night, but there was nowhere to dance! We even tried wandering back out to the sidewalk to find a better surface, but when that didn’t quite work, we moved on.

We stopped for more eats at the Stone Soup Company, then backtracked to the Ritz where we visited their Sideroom to see the Infinite Groove Orchestra, while waiting for the main act to start. Though the Sideroom was carpeted, there was plenty of room to dance (as long as you stayed behind the group of dancing hippies) and we thoroughly enjoyed bluesin’ to the work of their talented musicians (esp. the sax and upright bass players). Even picked up some pics of Batman:

Switching to the main room, we claimed a spot up front, just to the right of the stage, by the speakers and security guards. I had never hear of JC Brooks and the Uptown Sound (soul from Chicago), but they put on a fantastic, energetic, funky show and I’ll be seeking them out again soon.

Infinite thanks to Will for all the WONDERFUL dancing. Looking forward to attending the festival again next year!

Karl, who owns and flies the plane, gave us a rundown on emergency procedures before setting up to take off:

I may have been in a private aircraft as a child, but this is the first time I remember flying in a small plane, and it’s definitely the first time Batman has flown in one:

We cruised somewhere up around 7500ft, through some beautiful, if bumpy clouds.

After a nice landing in the Conch Republic:

We checked in at our cabin:

We walked around the island, looking for places to dance.

We got a good suggestion from a local bartender and followed up on it after a dip in the motel’s pool:

That evening at The Steel Horse, as it turned out, was devoted to line dancing. Trust me when I say the line dancing crowd is a serious one. For two or three HOURS they did a different, unique line dance for EVERY song. That’s a LOT of memorization! We picked up on a few (and could have done the Boot Scoot Boogie blindfolded), but some were waaaaaay too complex. We managed to swing dance to a few, out of the way of the line dancers, but we were thankful when the live band came on and the line dancers cleared out. (Apparently, they are easily spooked by non-line-danceable songs.)

The band (someone “and the Damn Band”) performed a great collection of bluesy classic rock songs and made every effort to play our requests (as we were the only dancers left).

We hit some other clubs to see what was out there. The band at Margaritaville was awesome, but we barely caught the last few songs of their final set. Other than that, the music was mostly Top 40 pop – which we still danced to, but didn’t enjoy quite as much.

We turned in in the early morning hours, woke to a nice breakfast buffet with fresh coffee then packed up to return home:

After a short drive to the airport and a short wait while Karl prepped the plane, we loaded up and enjoyed the beautiful flight home:

Here’s hoping we get to do this trip again soon!

A lot (not, Alot) has happened this year, including – in approximate order of occurrence - a foray into dance instruction, a trip to Texas involving a disagreement with a roping horse, a new apartment for me, new roses at Jim’s, a new record for Dad at Sebring (505 bike miles in 24 hrs!), lots of acupuncture, a robber swarm, a surprise dead raccoon, a giant spiritual-guide spider, a bed-side tree, a hidden possum and a new hive of bees, to name a few.

In addition to all of that, Jim and I have been working on the Mini and  FINALLY too it to our first Mini event – this year’s Spring Thing! Though we couldn’t make it for the whole weekend (really wanted to see the Funkana!) we dropped in Saturday afternoon and met some wonderful people … and their Minis:

The Roaming Gnome even showed up (Miniless though. He flew):

As dinnertime rolled around, in a fit of Mini-induced giggles, we followed all the little Coopers (and Mokes) to a nearby mall:

On a Saturday evening, the place was pretty crowded and while spots were hard to find, thankfully, the mall cops didn’t mind us double parking:

Jim also ordered some Doggles to protect those big, buggy Boston eyes:

but persuading Noki to wear those WHILE riding the trailer will take some more training and treats on our part.

The longest test ride has been about 20 miles, but Jim is working Noki up to the big miles and Noki couldn’t be more excited to be out on the open road, spending time with his dad:

]]> http://www.ifyouwerewondering.com/wordpress/2011/12/boston-tow/feed/ 2 http://www.ifyouwerewondering.com/wordpress/2011/09/bed-of-rose/ http://www.ifyouwerewondering.com/wordpress/2011/09/bed-of-rose/#comments Sat, 17 Sep 2011 14:48:56 +0000 admin http://www.ifyouwerewondering.com/wordpress/?p=1865 As part of a morning ritual, we walk out to check on the bees and plants every day. A couple mornings ago, Jim and I found this:

a tiny frog sleeping in one of the Knock-out blossoms.

We had no idea the swing dance scene was so big here in the Tampa area, but so far we know of five weekly dances and have frequented two of them.

Friday night isn’t normally a Swing night for us, but this past Friday was the 11th Anniversary of the Swing Time group based out of the Gulfport Casino.

Ma and I got dressed up for the occasion, cause we really just need an occasion to get dressed up, and headed off to Gulfport.

(As always, our dog did all she could to help)

On their website, Swing Time advertised a Jack and Jill Dance Contest as part of the night’s festivities:

But since neither Mom nor I knew what a Jack and Jill contest was, we bypassed the opportunity to sign up as we came in.

As always, we had a wonderful time dancing with our favorite regulars, then a few songs before the competition was to begin, Sam – the organizer and dance instructor – walked up to me with a slip of paper asking, “Are you signed up for the contest?” Me: “No.” Him: “You should be” (or at least that is what I heard in my head). Me: “Ok.”

He wrote “Katy” on the paper and took off.

When it came time for the contest, Sam notified everyone that too few men had signed up to allow partners for all the female contestants, and he warned that girls would be entered on a first-come-first-serve basis.

Getting nervous about dancing in front of everyone, I figured I had a guaranteed way out assuming that I was among the last to sign up. Sam called out the first 11 girls and had them draw a random guy partner out of a pail of names. He then announced they were down to the last male and hence the last couple for the contest and my mental fingers were crossed it would not include me.

There was a silent, implied drumroll then, “Katy, come on up!”

Whether frozen in fear or deep in premonition, I didn’t move for a moment. As luck would have it, there was another Katy (or perhaps a Katie) in the line of girls (not that surprising a situation, really) who immediately stepped forward to claim the spot. Phew! I was saved by the ubiquity of Katys! (or Katies?)

Ready to turn and head back to my seat with a smile, I heard, “This one is for Katy P.” It took me a second, but then I thought, “Aw, crap. I’m Katy P.”

I stepped up to the pail and drew the remaining name. I couldn’t read the handwriting, but I saw the last male contestant standing alone and marveled at my luck. I had never met him, but had been watching him and his wife – an obviously close and talented pair – dance together all night long.

Given a couple minutes to warm up with our newly drawn dance partners, Vinnie took me through different steps and turns and a bit of  Charleston to get a feel for my ability. Next, everyone was lined up and had a thirty-second turn to impress the judges.

Had I the choice, I would have gone first to get it over with, but as we had been paired last, we had the final slot. Mostly we clapped along with the beat and cheered on the other contestants, but while one couple was dancing, Vinnie leaned over and asked, “Do you know how to walk out together?” making a circular sweeping motion with his foot. I’d done something like that before, so shrugged and said yes, but immediately tripped over his foot when he tested it out. He clarified the move with a demonstration, then we practiced it – all the in span of about ten seconds.

When our turn finally came around, my heart was almost beating hard enough to drown out the worries about tripping in front of everyone, but Vinnie led me out on the floor smoothly and we took off. I messed up a couple of times, but thankfully he had told me that your footwork didn’t need to be perfect as long as you were showy, and we were showy!

I have no idea what we looked like or exactly what we did – it’s all a blur for me – but I do remember lots of Charleston kicks and the lack of me falling or tripping, so here’s to Vinnie!

They announced the results would follow shortly then cranked up another song, open for all dancers. I danced that one and sat the next one out, then they announced third place, and the runners up – the pair of whom won free passes to future swing nights. Then for the $100 cash prize, they announced the winners:  ”Katy and Vinnie!”

Wait, what?

I looked up from the plastic cup of water I had been sipping and saw some eyes looking back at me, so I headed out the floor to meet up with Vinnie and accept our $50 each.

Apparently the next round of drinks will be on me…

So, when on a visit to a nearby nursery a little over a year ago, upon spying a 1′-tall turkey fig tree for sale, I shelled out the $6 and headed home a very happy, very excited camper.  While Florida isn’t the BEST place to grow figs, they supposedly can survive and thrive here once established, but they would probably take a few years of growing before bearing any fruit.

When it came to putting the plant in the ground, unfortunately, the lot where I live has old oak trees in each of its four corners which pretty much block out any consistent sunshine. So I carefully zipped the tree up in a daypack and scootered it on my back the sixty miles out to my boyfriends house in the Lakeland countryside.  We planted the little tree and, over the course of a year, watched it grow, die and grow again.

Around the beginning of this month, we had to have a new well drilled and since the well company’s equipment would have crushed the little sprout, we transplanted the still-petite tree to the other side of the house then watched it closely over the next few days.  When it didn’t wilt or die, we pretty much left it alone to do its miraculous, natural thing.

Then, yesterday, while mowing, my boyfriend noticed this:

Our first fig!!!  Hooray!  I can’t begin to convey how excited I am about our fruit tree bearing fruit!  We planted it and it grew! Who knew!

There is a second little one on the way (see small, round, blurry dot in center of image below):

and while it might not be a good idea to let these ripen on such a young plant (they might leach more nutrient than the plant has to offer), we’re going to wait and see how things go.  So keep your fingers crossed for our spry tree and its little fresh figs!

We spent the next several days in Bumpass and the surrounding areas trying to explore all our options on getting the Mini back to Florida since we expected the problem was one that local mechanics wouldn’t be able to fix. We thought about renting a truck or a trailer or both.We looking into having someone else tow it down. My uncle even offered his car for us to drive to Florida to get Jim’s truck, which we’d then use to tow my uncle’s car back to Bumpass and the Mini home. But the my mom offered to drive Jim’s truck up to us, so we shipped a key to her over the weekend and went to buy a hitch and ball to fit Jim’s truck.

After an interesting day spent dealing with the various Uhaul dealers of Richmond, we finally procured all we needed for the hitch, and we were able to reserve a rental 2-wheel car dolly.

Mom arrived late Monday night/early Tuesday morning (she is a true road warrior), then after a short night’s sleep, Jim installed the hitch and we went to pickup the car dolly.

The Uhaul guy had sold us a wiring kit that wasn’t an obvious install, so we took it back with us and he took time to help us with it. The installation ended up involving removing the taillights, opening wiring bundles and splicing wires, and it turned out especially great that he was there for the process because it turned out that he had sold us what appeared to be a defective unit. He tried another then concluded that his computer had listed the wrong wiring product for Jim’s truck. He picked out another type of wiring package and it worked fine, but the whole process took over an hour.

Anyhow, we attached the car dolly and returned to Bumpass to find the Mini didn’t have enough clearance to ride long distances on the dolly safely.

Sooooooo…

We packed everything up, loaded the Mini, said our goodbyes to our awesome host family and returned to the Uhaul store to try to switch out the dolly for a full trailer.

Luckily they had one on the lot that was not yet reserved, and the dance of trading that out for the dolly wasn’t too painful. After some time of attaching the trailer and getting the Mini loaded and secured, we grabbed snacks from the 7-11 next door and got underway sometime after noon or one.

A day of driving landed us just outside of Savannah where we slept soundly for the night then got a good early start the next morning for the final hours of our trip.

We took the Mimi to DJ Minis place north of Tampa. After describing the problems, he suspected the CV joint, so we left the car with him, took Mom to her van, dropped the trailer at the assigned location, grabbed a bite to eat and finally headed home!

Day 13. Lucky thirteen…

We woke at 3:45 hoping to get an EARLY start before Long Island’s morning rush hour. The Mini was packed and ready to go by 4. It started up fine and we sat, giving it some time to warm up. The past few days had been surprisingly sweltering for Floridians in New York, however the forecast for the day predicted some relief – good news for travelling without a/c – and the chilly morning made that prediction all the more promising.

After several minutes of sitting together, quietly in the morning’s darkness, we decided we should get going. Jim put it in gear to back out of my brother’s driveway, gave it some gas and the Mini died. And wouldn’t start again.

We went through the checklist until we found the carbs weren’t getting any fuel, then focused on that problem with little luck. One of us talked the other into taking a break until there was more light to work by and I went back to bed for more sleep while Jim researched the problem. When I woke, he was working on the fuel pump, trying to resolve a vapor lock issue.

Erick and I visited while Jim got the car running again, then we said our goodbyes and Jim and I got on the road leaving Long Island a little before 10.

Traffic wasn’t as bad as we anticipated and we made good time to the Verrazano Narrows Bridge to Staten Island. But while getting in line to pay tolls, we mistakenly entered one for the access road rather than one that would route us onto the interstate. This turned out for the best as we missed a huge mess of traffic and got to see (and sniff) local parts of Staten up close.

We made it to I-95 without much trouble, enjoyed our quick progress along the Turnpike and had only one other detour while trying to avoid a tunnel toll in Baltimore, which again resulted in a nice, close-up tour of downtown Baltimore.

We began to hit traffic just north of DC (as I’m sure everyone does). I navigated as best I could to help avoid some of it, but did little to get us out of it before rush hour started. Still, we moved along pretty well and didn’t come to stand-still traffic until south of DC near Dale City.

Sitting in the stop-and-go traffic was bad for us, but worse for the car. The engine started making noise whenever Jim tried give it gas while in gear and there was no exit in sight (though the access road was literally right next to us, blocked only by a k rail barrier).

Jim pulled over on the big shoulder, checked the car and determined this wasn’t anything that could be fixed road-side, so we called the insurance to have a tow truck pick us up. Unfortunately, he didn’t arrive until about an hour and a half after his ETA. Oh, well.

He gingerly loaded up the Mini and drove us all the way to my aunt’s house in Bumpass, VA (surely you remember that town by now), fifty-some-odd miles past what insurance would cover, but it was worth it! We were so thankful to be among welcoming family members rather than stuck in the city on the side of the interstate.

We rolled in around 9:30, *moments* before my aunt’s family pulled into the driveway from their long evening at VBS. (Our conversation with the tow truck driver was, “It should be right around here some where. This one? No. Maybe that one. No. Oh! That one where the van is pulling in!”) So all of us were there to watch the unloading of the car and my littlest cousin even got to steer the Mini while the rest of us pushed it into what is becoming its reserved parking spot at their house.

We were thankful to shower and sleep soundly that night, grateful to have a comforting place to work out our new troubles. I couldn’t ask for better family.