Doesn't this cloud look like Krusty the Clown? Or for our older blog followers, Bozo? It's...it's...AMAZING!!! But Paul says what the hell have I been drinking or smoking? He says he doesn't see anything of the sort. After six weeks on the road you get white line fever and hallucinations set in. Next thing you know, we'll be taking part in the big tea-bagger rally on April 15. By the way (and this is Paul talking), the good thing about the big tea bag anniversary is that there shouldn't be any waiting in line at WalMart because all the WalMartians will be taking to the streets. But we digress...

The farthest south we went in Florida was
Tampa where we stayed at the same resort we stayed at last year called "Bay Bayou". A quite nice place where we rented a bike and gave Daisy a good run. She's put on about 27 extra pounds on this latest cross-country venture so now we're trying to run it off her. Of course everybody thought it was cruel of Paul to make Daisy pull him around the park when the one who really needs the exercise is Paul. He's put on close to 100 pounds.

Here before you (below) and can you ever get enough of it, the all-new for 2010 2285 Lance travel trailer with side slider and its now legendary tow vehicle, all of which are gloriously positioned under the most God-awful pollen-laden tree in America. It dropped sap and pollen and half the people in the park including the two of us were wheezing and sneezing.

And did we mention bugs? Mosquitoes and those tiny biting no-see-ums. Three or four times a week, usually in the evening when you're outside eating, the clown comes out of the clouds and runs around the park with a bug-spraying machine. You cover your drink and your food. The smoke clears, the bugs come out of hiding and you're right back where you started. And the clown goes back to the clouds.

That's one of the great things about the southwest: very few insectos. Of course, the ones we do have (like scorpions) will kill you if you step on them but at least they don't fly.

Our friends Willie and Gail who live across the bay in St. Pete condescended to visit us at Bay Bayou. However, they refused to take part in the nude volleyball or shuffleboard activities. So we sat fully clothed, totally out of place, on the pad next to the all new 2285, etc. with Daisy close by.

She was nude, by the way.

Remember the live chicken that the roadside produce vendor on Dauphin Island gave us? Well, we felt it needed company so we bought another live chicken along the way. But then we decided to eat both of them here at Bay Bayou. Boy, did Click and Cluck put up a squawk. They were mighty tasty.

Following our pet chicken dinner with Willie and Gail, the next day we were invited to their place. Passing through the city of Clearwater I screamed "Costco sighting!!!". I went apoplectic, grabbed the steering wheel but Paul calmed me down and continued on. Remember, I haven't had a Costco fix since Memphis. And Costco may have added another 100 new items that may have come and gone by the time we find another one. Not sure when that might be.

Before processing our chickens, we forced them to lay a dozen eggs, some olives and pickles which Gail magically turned into the most delicious deviled egg platter ever.

Goodness, that woman can cook and entertain. A feat of a feast: pork ribs, green beans with bacon, cole slaw, corn and Texas toast.

This is Lance Corporal Wendell Creager, his beautiful wife and par-excellence chef Gail, accompanied by former Commandant of the Marine Corps, Paul Ryan.

But enough about Willie and Gail. Here we are back at our naturist resort, Bay Bayou, and our neighbors' cute little mutt Phoebe.

And these folks traveling with Phoebe are from the beautiful Finger Lakes region of New York--

David and Paula. We're sitting outside the all-new for 2010 etc., etc., enjoying a bottle of laundry detergent.

David and Paula are very nice people as have been all of the people we've met along the way.

Only problem was David introduced me to his new bicycle. Liked it so much we went out and bought one just like it. You'll see that in a later blog. It's much too much for you to handle at this point since you don't get out that often.

SO DAMN IT. GET OFF YOUR DEAD BUTTS. GET YOURSELF A LITTLE RESCUE CRITTER--DOG, CHICKEN, CAT, I DON'T CARE--AND GET ON THE ROAD. LIKE THE OLD SONG SAYS, 'ENJOY YOURSELF. IT'S LATER THAN YOU THINK.' It really is. I'm not kidding.

Retirement and road travel are the two most underrated activities this great country has to offer. Forget all the right wing/left wing whackos. Turn off the TV, the radio. Better yet, throw the TV out the window. Stop texting. Start living. Put your troubles in the rear view mirror. Get out of the house and do something real.

Whew. That rant's over.

Next, it's about time for the big u-turn as we head for the barn back west to pick up our mail. Next stop as this trip rolls on: Tallahassee. Peace on ya.