Here Kitty Kitty…

This winter we have been offered a different path. Instead of returning Otwon we have joined the Naples Marco Island KOA in SW Florida.

It has been 25+ years since I have lived in a coastal Florida town not to mention a town surrounded by a nature preserve. There are a few things I remember but would rather not encounter... like alligators, no see-m’s, and rattlesnakes. Then there are a few I am not accustom to… armadillos, bobcats, and panthers.

Really! Cats! Big Ones! I was a little freaked out. I had traded hawks and bears of Maine for gators and cats!

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Florida… and to my sunshine native sisters like Lucy, Barb, and Dixie: I have not turned into a whining Yankee, I promise. Cross my heart! But Panthers and Bobcats? Really? I have dogs. Little dogs!

I had been forewarned by a few co-workers to be careful at night and not to let my dogs out by themselves. OK, this freaked me out a little more. Then, I realized I was getting my information from snowbirds… I would generalize and call them all Yankees but one couple is from Georgia (say no more about them Dawgs; lol) and another in from Carolina. Both would cut off my head if I called them a Yankees. So I suppose there is a difference between the “South” and “South Florida”. I needed the 411 from a local… a year round resident.

They are easy to spot. They are the ones in flip flops and a rugged tan. They informed me that although indeed there were critters to be concerned about… they had never seen the “cats” here at the KOA. And the rest was common sense Florida… which fortunately we have.

We have been here a week now and so far have only seen a raccoon or two… or three… or ten. I figure if there are coons around then the gators must not be. And the biggest issue we have is with the” no see-um’s” Help! Does anyone have remedy?

PS. Secretly I am hoping for a glimpse of a “Cat”. But that may have to wait for a trip to the Glades.

Until then… Peace, Luv, and Dreams of Cats, Here kitty, kitty…

Me and Dr. Seuss Recall the Season

I took a summer hiatus from blogging. I’m not sure why… part of me said that this was a travel blog and we have transitioned from traveling to lifestyle. But then again, we are still kind of wondering about the country. So this blog is a catch-up blog of sorts.

We had a great summer... more often than not captured in a digital pictorial format so I am going with that and will try to use my words sparingly.

One flower two flower red flower white flower

Pink flower, blue flower old flower… new

What would my blog be without just a few

~

One sign two sign old sign bold sign

Some tell you where to go; some tell you what to know

From there to here, from here to there, interesting signs everywhere.

~

One friend two friends; straight friend gay friend

Some have two feet and some have four

My peeps, my family, my country and more

~

Where do they come from?

I cannot say.

But most have come a long, long way

~

The summer came, the summer went

A New England welcome to all was sent

So come to see us where ever we are

Where ever we are, near or far

~

Still not sure of what to think?

Then check out the pictures by following the link

http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=Tjzsr7vy-NSFNdE_E_K-V&_=1

You might be a Lezbakistanian

The other day we watched the comedy special called “Blue Collar something and something…” with Jeff Foxworthy, Larry the Cable guy, and a couple of others. Some of it was prepubescent male humor that we didn’t laugh at but some of it was darn right lyao… anyway… subconsciously it must have rubbed off on us. Because… we were driving down the highway in our RV and we saw this sign at a Golden Corral. All it said was catering available. And I instantly blurt out. If Golden Coral catered your last wedding, you might be a redneck!

Well,… that is all it takes for me to get thinking… I knew right then and there that it was a blog waiting to happen. Not the redneck part though… the “you might be” part. So for those of you that were hoping to hear about how pretty the dogwood were in South Carolina or how the morning dew glistened on the 1st Tee, will just have to wait for another blog.

This blog is call “You might be a Lezbakistanian. “ Yes dear friends, Lezbakistanian, not just lesbians. Lesbian is too general, too undefined. Lesbakistan is a country Pedro likes to call “our people”. It is loosely defined as the womyn we know… and friends of the womyn we know… and some relatives, and some neighbors, while others might be more comfortable with the term honorary Lezbakistanian. I could try to define or describe us more but I will let the blog do it for me.

• If you know how Pedro got her name… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• If you have ever worn a feather boa golfing… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• If you can name all three queens... you might be...
• If you have seen a certain County Commissioner in drag… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• If you are a Z-Ho… you are a Lezbakistanian.
• If you played dirty Santa and the top “prize” of the night is a tie between a Home Depot gift card and Ms Claus T-back panties… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• Hell… If you earned a toaster oven in Orlando “before the new millennium”… you might be a Lezbakistanian.

I could go on but I am sure some of you may have your own to share. Please feel free to add them to the comment section below or send them to me for future blog consideration.

Peace, Luv, and Marshmella Biscuitte w/2 tt’s,

barbie

A Circuitous Path through Georgia

On our way to the land of lobster… albeit a circuitous path… the destination for the summer season is Bar Harbor again this year. But the path in which many travel vicariously seems to be the one less traveled... or at least some of it.

The first stop Jekyll Island. This is a familiar stop and one well traveled… at least for us. It is our stop in which we “get fixin’, to get ready, to go.” Translation to Yankee: it is the place we go to get our minds and our rig back on the road. And of course do a little golfing. This year was no exception and we also got to witness Heather’s maiden solo voyage with her camper with Grandma in tow for moral support. You go girl! For those that have not been to JI, it is one of Georgia’s best kept secrets to get away from the crowds with ample options of fun or just chilling. It really is all good.

From there, we decided to head up into the GA hills and try another state park. We heard tell of a number of parks that have golf courses called “state resort parks” and we went off to find one. Hard Labor Park east of Atlanta and south of Athens is where we ended up. It is pretty spectacular.

Rv people notes: Water and Electric the sites are beautiful, level, and easy to get in. There are some pull thrus for those that need them but the better sites are deeper into the park and are back-in’s. Dump available. Good showers and bathrooms.

The rest of the notes: Cell service, Wi-Fi, and TV are a few miles up the road in a quaint town of Madison. The café / diner have a wonderful breakfast and is well worth venturing out to one morning. There are lakes throughout the park, 26 miles of hiking and equestrian trails. I was also surprised to find that there were campsites with the horse stables. Very cool.

The golf on the other hand is promising. The golf pro promised us birdies. We saw plenty… just not on our scorecard. For those of us used to the flat lands of Florida, the hills were challenging but great fun. We play two balls off and on the entire 18 because during the week it was not busy. And the azaleas and dogwoods blooming fulfilled the nature lover in me.

As for the name, Hard Labor State Park. My imagination conjured up visions of chain gangs and a voice in my head is saying “what we have here is a failure to communicate”… both would be my imagination at work. The truth is that it got its name by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s when they built a variety of parks in Georgia and it was the place where they hewn the trees which was “hard labor”.

So while the name is not enticing the beauty of the park is… and we’ll be back.

Peace Love and Georgia, barbie

march, marCH, MARCH!!!

At first I wasn’t sure how to feel about this Equality March in DC. I’ve done quite of few protests for various causes including Gay Rights, Women’s Rights, Lesbian Rights, Reproductive Rights, AIDS/HIV Health, blah, blah, blah… I’ve gotten a little apathetic, a little cynical, a little out of shape. My Marching muscles (both physical and mental) needed a boot camp or at least a pep rally.

Walking through DuPont Circle district on Saturday was it. Not because we walked for about a gazillion miles nor because the streets were strewn with rainbow flags or because my gaydar was beeping non-stop. The shot in my arm was that is was none of this. The shot in the arm was the normalness of the scene. The streets were filled with tourist, window shoppers, and friends laughing at cafe tables. You had to look closer to see that it was a predominantly gay crowd. This is what normal life looks like for all of us, gay or straight. We have come so far…

The next day at the March it was very much the same. Oh there were signs, and chants, and cheers for all the colorful queers… but for the most part gone were the Drag Queens, gone were Chap clad boy toys, and the radical spike dykes beating drums from previous Marches. We didn’t need those to get noticed. We are not just a fringe community with a few that feel brave enough to show our faces… we are mainstream! We are your neighbors, your bank teller, your grocer’, your pharmacist, and postal workers, all marching without the fear. We are the baby boomer survivors refusing to give up struggle… and we are the students that have picked up the torch and assumed the struggle.

One neo-nuclear family mom pushing a stroller said to me that she was marching in hopes that “her daughter would not inherit the struggle.”

The signs over head say it many ways but the message was singular. EQUALITY… EQUALITY… EQUALITY…!

And if a picture is worth a thousand words… here are a whole bunch for you. click here for my slideshow or click here for individual photos

Peace, Luv, and Equality for All, barbie

Drive By Fall

Fall arrives early in New England. As we readied for our departure from Mt Desert Isle, fall showed up. It’s like the curtain went up for the third act and the scenery change was a shock. It should not have been… if the soggy first act “Spring”had not been foreboding enough, then surely the every so brief appearance of Summer in the second should have been all the warning we needed. But not us, our oblivion we complete as we were too swept up with the story to notice the back drop. So here we are, with (for now) the best seat in the house/country and the pictures to prove it… albeit from the rig and its balcony view.

Enjoy.

PS. The encore of pictures is Portland, Maine which we found to be an amusing town as well as the home of Longfellow.

Peace, Luv, and Crimson Colors, barbie

Photo link: http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=jmoofKTU3eXcxVQhPr9H8&_=1

Exploring more of Acadia: Schoodic Point

Schoodic Point is part of the Acadia National Park… probably 10 min’s by boat 40 min’s by car. I’ve have pretty much ignored it thus far. There has definitely been enough to keep my attention here on the “mainland” of Acadia.

Which is what I heard a Ranger call it… which makes no sense since the “mainland” is an island where the bulk of the donated Acadia lands are concentrated. The remainder of what is not the “mainland of Acadia” or the islands of Acadia is actually on the mainland… primarily on Schoodic peninsula and a few islands dotted off the coast. Confusing I know.. anyway…

My bro-in-law gave me a book, (which until now) I had forgotten about. Now I am curious to unwrap some of the history that makes the Schoodic peninsula unique. Of course the day we tooled down the Schoodic – The National Scenic Byway, it was pretty much fogged in. I am beginning to think that the fog is a plot... a master Mainer plot to limit the tourist from the outer reaches, thus keeping it protected and safe. The misty Sheppard herds the masses back to Bar Harbor where they are fed lobster rolls and sold Down east trinkets and t- shirts. Only the persistent traveler (and those with days to wait) are rewarded for their patience with glimpses of her coastline. Today was now our day.

But I am not one to be deterred… I find other things to look at. What ended up catching my attention were a few old edifices and some mid-century signage. Route 1 from Hancock, Sullivan and all the various Gouldsboro kept my attention… making mental notes of places to stop for photos on the return trip. Prior to entering the official Acadia Park, we passed thru the town of Winter Harbor. Once a hob-knobby spot now a well worn working harbor and front porch artisans. Our intention was to stop for lunch as either Chase’s or the Fisherman’s Inn (both recommended by a local) but the fried fare was not what we were looking for and mostly what they were serving.

We moved on to the one-way park loop of Schoodic. It was serene and peaceful although limited in the scenic scope as I mentioned earlier, we enjoyed it none the less. We also found a small primitive campground that is limited to single overnights that would be a tenter’s paradise. Each of the 10 sites has a well banked campfire pit overlooking the bay, no electricity. The parking, fresh water, and the flushing commodes are far enough away to keep it quiet.

The remainder of the loop road ribbons its way the length of the coast with a watery view popping out of the mist occasionally… very occasionally. We found ourselves heading back up the other side of the peninsula and Prospect Harbor. Once again limited for desirable food options, we pressed onward to Route 1 for the return trip. Lucky for us, one of the mental notes Ruth had made was a Mexican Restaurant in a log cabin on Rt 1.

(It is interesting to observe that Ruth’s mental notes almost always encompass food or golf while mine often focus on architecture and wildlife… all in all, a find complement to one another I would think… although hers are much handier)

Happily we found it and it was called “The Mexican Restaurant” (go figure) run by an Honduran woman. The food was excellent and had a few Central America influences for those that are a bit adventurous such as: Honduran Tamale with fish and peas in banana leaves and Hurachita a rice based drink that was pleasant but a bit too sweet. In the end our main entrée was a quesadilla of chicken and cheese accompanied by beans and rice… all very yummy!

The remainder of our outing was filled with retracing our steps to capture previously noted photo opts golf course called Bonnie Blink. All in all a good day.

Photos:http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=PLUtcUJodOv2KyD0oOgdA&_=1

Peace, Luv, and New England Tamales,  barbie