One Year in Florida Today!

Yes, today is one year since landing in Florida. 

The night before we arrived in Plant City, our final destination, we stopped in Pensacola. After dragging all of our bags and valuable items from the van into our hotel room, and securing Dodger in his pen, we walked across the street to a Cracker Barrel. We were so exhausted and hungry. Our waitress was super friendly and sweet. At the end of our meal she made conversation with us and asked us where we were traveling. 

My husband, laughing, told her we just moved to Florida. "OH, from where?" she asked excitedly. And Gil, not wanting to spoil her excitement, sheepishly eked out, "California." 

Recognizing his shame, she quietly leaned in and replied, "You're on the run; I get it." Then she welcomed us to freedom. 

This month has seen a lot of changes. Yesterday I had to turn in the key to the rental house, and I felt a little sad about saying goodbye to the place that was such a blessing to us. It truly was God's timing that we ended up there, and now that part of our lives was over. 

Last weekend we helped move our oldest son into his new house in Port Charlotte, Florida. He had been renting a place in Venice, which was up in March; and again, in God's timing, found a house that was right for him and took the opportunity. Again, I felt a little sad about his moving further away, but mom's have to let these things go. 

On a fun note: Governor DeSantis is having a rally at my son's work today, and he gets to hear him speak. 

And finally, I'm disappointed in myself for not stopping to enjoy what is before me. One thing I loved about my life in California was that it was pretty easy. We hiked a lot and I stopped to enjoy the dry brush and sporadic wild flowers, the dead trees and rocks. Occasionally there was a trickle of a stream. I admired the peace of nature, even if it was brown and the same everywhere. It was still peaceful. 

But now, now that I am surrounded by ABUNDANT LIVING NATURE EVERYWHERE, I haven't taken time to soak it in as I should. I practically live in Jurassic Park. The sounds of exotic birds are everywhere, and everything is super size. Sadly, I have not taken pictures of all that is around me, and mostly because I haven't stopped to admire it. But I'm working on it. 

Thus, I do not have much to share. But this is what I have: 

My husband and the kids are building a chicken coop. 

There are frogs everywhere. I must check my rain boots in the morning before I put them on just to make sure I don't squish anyone. 

This beautiful creature was on my car. 

Oh, this cracks me up. There are many of these things on power lines above, and I don't know what they are; but they remind me of the covid virus emoji. 

Here is what it looks like most mornings from my front porch: 

And here is the chicken coop painted: 

I am mostly doing gardening for therapeutic reasons (see, I'm not alone), but in the end I hope to produce food. This is a blueberry bush:

Jalapenos: 

I live in the strawberry capital of the United States. I should be able to grow strawberries: 

Squash:

Oranges:

A variety of veggie seedlings. I need to move those into larger pots now:

My garden for now, but we hope to expand this if the experiment works:

My herbs:

And another way to grow from seed:

So we've been here a year. Would any of us return to California? No. No way! Especially not the High Desert. I am grateful that God answered our prayers -- multiply prayers -- to remove us, our kids, and to let me be here to care for my dad.

Granted, it has been tough on the soul. I miss my church family and my church and the kids miss their friends. I also miss my granddaughter. And I miss the dry weather in California. Getting used to the smell of mildew is trying. I don't miss the daily wind in the desert. It is calm here. If you see a breeze, you think: Oh, it's windy today. 

The winter, being the last season to experience, so far is the best. We wear shorts and tank tops most days. Sometimes you need a sweatshirt, but not past 11AM. We had one day of 30 degree weather on Christmas night. Brrr. We actually put the heat on. But I'm not looking forward to the wild weather again, in spring, summer, and early fall. I do not like it. 

Living in rural America is awesome. People practice self-sufficiency by nature. It's common sense. No one is waiting for government to do something for them; in fact, the least governmental intrusion the better. And while everyone has no trespassing signs on their property, these are the friendliest, most inviting neighbors we've every met. We've only been here 2.5 months in our new house, and we have been introduced to five neighbors. One only owns the lot next door, and yet he still came over to speak to me. 

Here in rural Florida, property owners burn their own yard waste in unattended huge bonfires. That would never happen in California. Not only because of the wind and dry conditions, but the government would never trust humans to do it safely. Only vagrants are permitted to light fires. Property owners? Not so much. 

And my husband and I are blown away by the efficiency of government, when necessary. Everything thus far has been quick and simple. Frankly, California is a mess. I am so sorry, but I do not think there is any hope for that mess. Such a waste. If Florida adopts the policies of the West, it will all be lost. 

I hope to take more pictures of my experience of this beautiful place. Hope to. And if my son adds any pictures of the rally with Governor DeSantis, I will share here, too.