Out of the Fishbowl. Into the Fishing Harbour.
Sarasota can sometimes feel a bit confining. It's almost as if the general populace is saying "why go anywhere else, we have all that life needs here".
My friend Ashley L moved here from Virginia a few years ago to take care of her parents. They live in a gated community where nothing (apart from the squabbles which sometimes break out in deed restricted communities) ever happens.
So she and I decided to break out of our respective fish bowls by taking a trip to Cortez, FL.
Cortez is the only fishing port on this part of the Gulf of Mexico. It's a wee bit scruffy, as ports are wont to be, but there is a good buzz in the air. I've been there a couple of times. This was Ashley's first visit. We had (as the English might say) "a jolly good time".
The out side tables were arranged in a fine social distancing pattern. Every single client was be-masked until it came time to eat.
But duh oh duh I couldn't find my mask after we had eaten. I rummaged through every pocket. How could I have lost it?
I hadn't. Ashley pointed out where it had been all the way through lunch.
DUH AGAIN!
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