Who thought we'd be staring at the walls this long? If you're batty as Francesca and me, its time to take a walk. The fresh air, exercise, and Yard Game #5 will do you good.
As is our habit, we have strewn a collection of "why are we hanging on to this?"
stuff in our front yard.
If you look very closely you can probably find them all!
There's a sign to tell you our battered gnomes aren't on the list (but one of them is next to
to the teapot my wife made 50 year ago (no, we can't get rid of that unless you promise to give it a good home).
You've seen everything on Netflix so come over, after six, when the temperature starts sinking below ninety. We'll be happy to see you.
From a distance, of course.
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There is something that doesn't love a drone. It's everyone but the person flying it.
I got my first taste at a Miami dinner party years ago. Looking up at an irritating noise I saw a small, blinking, aircraft. It hovered 'neath the trees looking down at us. By the time I found a rock the drone had fled.
I understand the thrill one has virtually zooming over treetops. The problem is you are often invading someone's private space. A bigger problem is figuring out how to knock them out of the sky. When I hear a drone destruction story it makes my heart glad.
Last fall, my son and I drove over to St. Augustine for lunch. Afterwards Ian and I visited the Spanish fort that's guarded the harbor since 1656. We chatted with a volunteer, a man who loves masquerading as an ancient soldier a sword on his hip.
Six months later we had neighbors over for dinner and the subject turned to the irksome, robotic mosquitoes. A friend of theirs spends his winters "guarding the fort" in a colorful pink coat.
One afternoon he noticed a drone buzzing overhead. The damn thing wasn't satisfied with
a top shot of the fort and the tourists inside. The offending insect plunged down to eye-level in the central courtyard, just eight-feet from the guard.
It was easy for him draw his sword. He had a duty -pretend or not- to protect the fort and everyone in it. Lunging at it caused the tiny spinning propellers to hit hardened steel. An explosion of plastic fell to the ground to applause from surrounding tourists.
I would have cheered too and given the man a medal.
A moment later the drone's angry operator was in the guard's face demanding compensation. After a few minutes of abuse the fort's manager stepped in. In uniform with a real gun on his hip, he ordered Drone Man to clean his mess and pay a $250 fine.
A sign clearly states as you enter Castillo de San Marcos, "No drones allowed".
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Who thought we'd be staring at the walls this long? If you're batty as Francesca and me, its time to take a walk. The fresh air, exercise, and Yard Game #5 will do you good.
There's a sign to tell you our battered gnomes aren't on the list (but one of them is next to
