Florida Cold For Nomads

It seems so negative to call it "The Curse of the Astral Nomads" and it's always so hard to distinguish coincidence from the cold hard facts of scientific measurement but cold weather seems to track our wanderings like white on rice, (cf. our recent trip to San Diego). Well, late February and early March, when you're living in New Jersey, the winter starts to wear on the spirit, given the grey barren cold gist of it all. As a precursor to spring, the Nomads like to head down to Florida to visit our good friends Clark and Stacy. Here's the plan: flying down Friday, flying back Monday. Here's the weather in Eustis: Thursday 75F, Friday 59F, Saturday 56F, Sunday 57F, Monday 55F, Tuesday 75F. No need to mention the wind Friday through Monday. Curse? You be the judge. In the words of Swiper: Aw Man!

Islands in the Jet Stream. Pretty from the air but

the Northwest wind is the enemy. Blame Canada!

We were pretty hungry from the flight so Clark brought us to a great

BBQ place in Winter Park: Harry & Larry's. Awesome BBQ. So good

that Astral Wendy didn't even stop for a photo. We did find our 

namesake street, though.

Chillin' with my man Dylan. He was home for break

from his Golf Management studies at FGCU.

He can strike a golf ball so well that Clark

and I just cry like little babies. Seriously, he's

close to scratch and I'm usually just in awe.

Clark and Stacey live on Lake Johanna.

Despite the chill, we hung on the dock for morning

cigarettes and coffee.

The view back to the house.

Oh, yes, there is a bird.

Just for something to do, we hit the Leesburg Arts Festival.

Not bad, although cold and windy. Leesburg has some history,

like an Opera House from 1889. Who woulda thunk?

Here's Astral Wendy and Stacey pretending to be hags. As if.

Indeed.

When there's peeps, there's Model A's

On the way back from the Art's festival, we passed the local regional 

airport where they had a small exhibition of some vintage WWII aircraft, 

including a B-17, a Liberator, and a P-51. They were all still flight

worthy but we didn't stick around to watch or get aboard. A 30

minute flight on the the B-17 was $475.00. Yikes! More than my

round trip from Newark to Florida. Plus, the plane looked like it

might have seen better days, And tight inside. Clark and I crawled

through and almost got stuck in spots. 

The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State, 

And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze. 

Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life, 

I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters. 

When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose. 

Clark and Dylan hanging with the Mustang.

Side of the Liberator. 

For lunch on Sunday, we headed over to Tavares to check out this new 

Canjun restaurant Tasso. The link goes to Stacy's review, which pretty well sums it up. 

Great food, service so inept it was pretty much a comedy routine. The food

was really good though.

Hanging outside of Tasso.

Inside of Tasso. Industrial chic.

Ah, the fabulous Jambalaya!

Hello Mr. Allnut. Hello Mrs. Allnut.

On the way back from Tasso, along Lake Dora, we spotted a bald

eagle and these two sandhill cranes gettin' all jiggy with it.

Huh? Funny things are everywhere!

At Newark, there was pigeon that just flew in from Chicago,