Southern Legitimacy Statement:As the annual rush to Florida begins each year, there are many issues facing fun-loving retirees. Whether they own a beautiful home, rent a condominium, or camp for the winter, heading South can be a risky proposition. Leaving Michigan is exciting while anticipating seeing old friends or making new ones. We know that staying active is definitely a boost to our longevity but moving away for the season can present unexpected surprises. Some are positive and some not so much. Please travel along as my story reveals a not-so-pretty “Snow Birding” experience.
Newly Redecorated Villa
“There’s no way I can stay here for two months, Dave.” We hadn’t even gotten out of the car when the hippie lady charged out of the front door holding a broom and furniture polish in her hand. Her spiderweb-like tresses flowed from the faded bandana.
A gravelly voice growled, “Oh Hi, you must be Deb and Dave. Pleased to meet you. Could you just give me another half hour or so while I finish up in here? I want to be sure it’s all shined up for you! There’s a lovely park just down the road and the beach is beautiful this time of day. Thanks, nice to meet you both. Maybe you should give me a full hour just to be sure. I only have one key so I’ll leave the door unlocked and the key will be on the kitchen table”.
Dave avoided my glare as we backed out of the driveway. He was the one who had researched the ideal spot to winter in Florida. Englewood, it seemed was what came up while Googling “The Best Places to Winter on Florida’s Sun Coast”. It had to be pet-friendly and it seemed the price must’ve been the clincher for my sweetheart! Wishing for a paper bag to breathe into, I inhaled and exhaled, inhaled, exhaled . . . well you get the picture.
My love drove us to the beach that our landlord, Trixie, had recommended. I admit that it was a lovely spot, but I knew we had to go back to what had been advertised as a “Newly
Redecorated Villa”.
Dave waited for the color to return in my face before he finally spoke. “Honey, I showed you the pictures on the website and we both thought it looked cute. Remember how you thought it looked cute too? I think it’ll be fine and remember it has a washer and dryer. Not all seasonal rentals have that. I will admit, it did look way bigger in the pictures.”
Upon our return to the Villa, we gingerly entered and both laughed while we took in our surroundings. There were beads dangling in place of doors, proudly displayed incense burners, and fringed throw covers on most of the sagging furniture cushions.
After searching the tiny dwelling for a washer and dryer, we finally located it in the backyard. In bold letters it explained that we needed to be conscientious of removing our clothing promptly because these appliances were shared with the other half of this duplex. I asked Dave if he remembered that this joint had two units and he nodded his wary head. The same wary head adamantly shook when I asked if he thought the other side might be a little bit nicer.
Dave quietly coped even when we realized that there was no heat source in our unit. It turned out to be a record-breaking cold winter with space-heaters nearly unavailable to purchase. When we called Trixie with our dilemma she replied, “There is a space heater in the attached unit. They seem real nice, so just work out a schedule to share the little heater.” She chuckled and reminded Dave that there was a window air-conditioner in both units in case it ever warmed up.” His jaw dropped as he mumbled a goodbye.
Most mornings we’d argue about who was going to get out of bed first. “Deb, I did it yesterday and my feet are freezing. I think it’s your turn. Here, put on my coat and just hurry.”Our early-morning ritual entailed opening the oven door, turning it to four hundred degrees and switching on the coffee pot. There were a few times I could see my breath as I sped back to the cozy bed.
Whoever had accomplished this duty would be rewarded with hot coffee a few minutes later. We’d sip our coffee while huddled under the covers and didn’t venture out til we thought it’d warmed up. Some days when the sun shone, we could take off our coats while sitting in the bedazzled living room. During the last week of our stay we actually did get to use the awesome A/C unit that dangled from the kitchen window.
Sometimes my face reddens as I recall the Winter of Two Thousand and Ten. Occasionally, I can even laugh. Around the middle of our stay, two men in suits knocked at the door and handed us a document of foreclosure on the property. Sputtering our explanation, they told us that “likely” the residence wouldn’t be seized until after our rental agreement had expired. However, they couldn’t be sure. It would depend on how many others were ahead of Trixie’s in the court system. It was difficult to feel confident that “likely” we wouldn’t be evicted during the week that Dave’s sweet mom was scheduled to visit. I’m happy to say that we all survived her week long visit. We decided not to mention the whole messy foreclosure situation to her.
I would be amiss in not sharing the layout of the outhouse-sized bathroom that had been painted a textured dark brown from floor to ceiling. But get this . . . there was a ten-inch step that one had to maneuver in order to access the toilet. During Dave’s mom’s visit, we kept reminding her not to trip as she climbed up to use the facilities. She’d smiled sweetly and chirped, “I feel like a queen when I’m up there doing my business!” There was no longer a doubt where Dave had learned his tolerance to make do with whatever was sent his way.
At the risk of becoming mundane with the description of this “newly decorated Villa”, I will describe the reaction that my Aunt Karen had when she and Uncle Jack drove from Zephyrhills on a sunny day just to have lunch with us. We planned to go out but Aunt Karen wanted to check out my digs for the season. I gave her the two-minute tour, at which time she asked to use the bathroom. She seemed confused when I told her, “Be careful because that first step is a doozy.”
We went out for a nice lunch and as they prepared to drop us back at the villa, Aunt Karen turned to me and smiled. “In case I’ve never told you this, you are one durable woman, Debbie.” When I told her I wish they’d brought their things so they could spend the night they shook their heads really hard and sped away.
Dave and I actually stayed the entire two months we’d signed up and paid for, but I always refer to this as, “The Year We Stayed In The Slum.” There was an unspoken understanding that we would never again rent a place that I hadn’t seen in person.
