We have arrived in the land of Princesses and pink & purple surroundings. It is a blessing that we had a neutral resting few days in Texas since leaving “grandson territory” and arriving in “princess territory”. What a difference a few days make. It wasn’t that many days ago that we were surrounded by balls of every shape and color, dinosaur  and SpongeBob or Spiderman stuffed toys Where the plates on the table were pictures of Batman, Robin or Incredible Hulk. Stepping on Kung Fu Warriors figurines were common. Having to pretend we were hiding from  Capt Hook was the only way we could come out of our room. We barely escaped the pretend volcano erupting before loading up the 3 grandsons in the car only to need to move a Scoobie Do lunch box before we could climb into the minivan. Ah…how precious.

Now arriving in Princess territory is a whole new experience. Pink, pink, pink….everywhere. We loaded pink plastic plates this morning with pancakes because “we were eating with Princess Elsa and everyone has to eat on princess plates”. The movie Sophia that also stars Elsa and Ariel is mow playing while I am sitting beside a “real little princess, dressed in all pink, writing this. We were blessed at breakfast to be eating with a princess that wouldn’t eat until her tierra was placed on her head and her milk was poured into her pink star cup. We have gone from being entertained by 3 boys tumbling on the floor, yelling at each other that “it’s my turn to jump on dad” to a sweet princess just wanting us to watch her cook on her make believe stove for all the dolls, which are, of course, dressed in pink.

Randy is now thanking me, which I knew he would, for making him learn “Where is Thumbkin” so he is able to sing along with Princess Elsa. I told him he could thank me by letting us stop at the Outlet Mall when we leave Orlando.
After this pink week, we feel we are ready to welcome our new granddaughter who will arrive in July. Next segment of our travel Randy agreed to learn Little Bunny Foo Foo. We’ve got this grandparenting down pat!

We are traveling to Florida to see our daughter, Christi, Tim and Kenley. When Randy and I looked at the map, we noticed that the road would take us right by Monroe, Lousiana, home of Duck Dynasty. Immediately, I got excited. To think that we might actually see Ms. Kay or Willie just made me happy, happy, happy. Randy was game. As we neared Monroe, several happenings while driving down the road, let us know that we were getting close.  Randy told me to hurry and get off the phone and take a take a picture of the jeep quickly coming alongside us. I got the camera ready and here it came. All you could see was a pair of naked feet sticking out the window. Click. We go about 5 miles down the road, still trying to forget the feet sticking out the window when we look up and see a baby seat roped to the top of a minivan. The wind and rain was tearing at the baby seat and it looked like it was about to fly off the top of their car. The ropes holding it were being stretched to the breaking point. Click. Hopefully the couple remembered to take the baby out before strapping it to the top. But then, if it was hooked to the top of the van, what was the baby sitting in?  Not wanting to look like a tourist, we had purchased a Willie bobble head, back in Monroe, which we now proudly displayed on the dash of our car. We felt like this might help us fit in as we continued to drive deeper and deeper into the south of our great USA. As we crossed over the Mississippi border, we stopped at a Micky D’s for a rest stop and get drinks. Randy ordered his coffee without incident and I ordered an iced tea. I love the south, home of the best iced tea in the world; I always order half sweet & half unsweet. The young man behind the counter ask me if I wanted creamer and sugar with my tea. I looked at him and thought maybe he misunderstood me. I once again repeated my order, “a glass of iced tea with extra ice, please”. He once again ask me if I wanted cream and sugar. Maybe he didn’t understand that I had said, “iced”, so I repeated it again. He then informed me that he knew my order and that some “folks” drank cream and sugar in their iced tea. It was then that I remembered where we were. As we crossed over into Dixie Land, we discovered that we needed gas. We find a station. Randy gets out of the car to fill “er” up. After about 1 minute, he quickly gets back in the car and tells me to hurry and drive away. The car that had pulled in had windows missing but had a Rebel flag that had been stapled over them. That same car was blowing out so much smoke and exhaust that Randy couldn’t breathe. The fumes filled our car so badly that we had to drive for 15 minutes with the windows down, when someone pulled up beside us to let us know that in Randy’s haste, he had jumped back in the car without replacing the gas cap. We have quickly learned that life really is lived much slower in the south. As we continued to drive down the highway, we saw houses that were on huge lots, but for some reason, the family car had chosen to park right outside the front door. We wondered why, with all he land that surrounded their home, would they need to park right in front of the front door on the lawn. That question will haunt us for weeks. At breakfast at the hotel, we walked in a little cocky. We felt good about ourselves. We had even taken time to iron our suitcase wrinkled clothes before coming down. Everyone there was wearing sweats (that didn’t match) or wife beater shirts. We quickly began talking very loudly about our bobble head so we wouldn’t appear to be outsiders. We got our toast and sat down to eat. I told Randy that the people apparently weren’t use to seeing folks dressed like we were (of course I wore my pearl earrings to spiffy up my new “Si is my role model” T-shirt) because they certainly gave us the one over as we came into the room. We finished our breakfast and checked out. It was at this point that Randy discovered that his pants were not zipped up. We knew why we had been looked at and I guess we fit in with the “southern” folks a little more than we thought. We are now in Florida and am hurrying off to the store. We forgot our Ben Gay to rub on so we fit in with all the retirees. It’s going to take a lot more that our bobble head to fit in down here. Just in case you are wanting to partake of some great southern iced tea I thought I would post one:

3 large tea bags
6 cups water
2 cups sugar
Bring water to a boil. Remove from heat and add the tea bags. Cover and allow to steep for about 30 minutes. Add sugar and stir until dissolved. Pour over glasses of ice.

We are in Corpus Christi, TX visiting my mom and enjoying the different restaurants that I frequented until moving to Dallas back in 1995. One of those amazing places that I hit within 24 hours of arriving is Kiko’s Mexican food. They have truly the best enchiladas in the world and the best fried mushrooms with chile con queso EVER. We just left Kiko’s where mother enjoyed a plate of deep fried faitas. Seriously, if you are even in Corpus, you must go.
While there, I glanced over to a table that was facing us and saw a friend of mine that I had not seen in 20 years. It was so nice to see her and found out that she follows chocolatecastles. Trish, it was great to see you. This morning Randy and I went to close up mother’s safety deposit box at the bank. After hearing this week about a man winning 10 mil from a scratch off lotto ticket and another family finding gold coins buried in their back year, worth now, millions, I got excited thinking, “what if there are insurance policies or precious coins in the box worth millions?” On the way to the bank, I began to mentally plan the beautiful house where Randy and I would spend half of the year in Italy, while returning to New York City, where we would spend the other half of the year, looking out over Central Park. Oh, the possibilities of our future were just running rampant through my head, the baby blue Bently convertible that would be parked in front of our 5th Ave apartment, which would take me to my all day spa appointment. We arrive at the bank. My dreams were quickly shattered when upon opening the safety deposit box that my parents have had since 1979. The only items inside were a penny, a loose dime and a few papers which included a refund check for 9 cents from Woolworth’s and a little receipt showing that my parents had paid off their house back in 1966 for $3,065. That was it. Oh, a couple of $2 bills. $35.00 a year is what we have been paying to keep that box. But, because we didn’t know where the key was to it, I just couldn’t not pay it in case my parents had some hidden treasure that they were keeping as a surprise for their only child.
Oh how quickly my Italy plans went. We can’t even buy a Starbucks frappachino with the $2 bill, penny and dime.
Think I will go drown my sorry at Snoopy’s with a basket of friend shrimp tonight. Looking out over the water while munching on shrimp will help me forget Italy and the Bently. If not, there is a Baskin Robbins close by.
Surely chocolate peanut butter ice cream will help me get over the disappointment of not finding valuables in that precious little lock box that we have paid….let’s see, 35 years times $35/month equals $1,225 dollars. That would have almost bought one ticket to Italy. Half a dream so close.