All posts in category People that I Meet

The Masters (Part 2 of 2)

Now that we had our share of shopping and lunch, it was time for the leaders to tee off. We left our chairs and headed to the third hole. It was a rather long walk, and we were surprised to find no chairs available. That’s why Bob and I now have chairs of our own. We arrived in time to see Rory and Bryson DeChambeau. They walked right past us in their pursuit of a green jacket.

As soon as the leaders were finished, we scrambled over to hole #6 to catch that action. Now we’re toting chairs, of course, but we always had a seat and the crowds were growing.

One of the most exciting things about the tournament was the roar of the crowd, which you could hear all over the course whenever anyone made an amazing shot. There also was the moan of the crowd whenever an easy shot was missed, but this was nowhere near as loud as the roar. It was exciting and I have to tell you I’m glad I didn’t have a cell phone to try to capture this. It couldn’t have done it justice.

At long last, we went back to the Azalea hole to locate our other set of chairs. We made ourselves comfortable waiting for the leaders. We were not disappointed as it was a noteworthy hole, even if in a negative sense. Rory got a rare double bogie on that hole – unlucky 13, I guess. Bob explained that that never happens. It’s almost as rare as a hole in one – almost.

I had quite the golf coaching staff at this point. The gentleman to my left had binoculars and was relaying the play by play. To the left of him was a man who was attending his 57th Augusta National. Then between Bob and me a man about our age showed up. There were no empty chairs, so Bob offered one of our folded ones. That’s how we met Barry.

I know much more about Barry than you might think, and I’ll spare you the details of his life (which we were not spared). Barry was traveling solo and was very happy to find friends. He thought the alliteration of our three names was cool, and I have to admit I like alliteration and at this point that might have encouraged Barry a little too much. Barry showed me his chemo burn scars which were hidden under his long sleeves on this warm day and asked me if that grossed me out. He said he needed to stay out of the sun, which made our shaded location ideal. He talked a lot. I didn’t think you were supposed to talk that much at a golf tournament, but I guess since we were on the fairway we weren’t disturbing any golfers. I started leaning into binoculars guy to help me pay attention to the golf, but Barry was leaning in to us.

At some point, unbeknownst to me, Bob offered to give Barry a lift back to his car, which was at a shuttle area. Bob told him we were leaving after the leaders finished this hole and Barry was all good with going with us. By now he had noticed that I had a cane and Bob told him I had knee issues. Now Barry took on the job of making sure I was safe and carried the other two chairs. I looked at my sweet husband and reminded him that we weren’t going straight to the car as we needed to stop at the golf shop. Barry was good with that, too. He stuck with us through it all, even followed Bob into the men’s room (hopefully not too close).

Barry has slowed down since the chemotherapy and liked my slower pace just fine. He was especially grateful for the handicap golf cart which sliced some time off our walk back to the car. Barry piled into the backseat like one of our kids and oozed with gratitude. He gave us his card, in case we ever get to Chicago. He told us he wished we could get together later for dinner and cards, and he told us he loved us. Honestly, I didn’t know what to do with that. By now it was six o’clock, and I was running on empty, so we gently parted ways and went back to our VRBO to rest.

Highlights from The Masters:

Seeing Rory.

Seeing Scottie Scheffler, of whom I am a fan since he was wrongly arrested on his drive into a tournament last year. I loved the way he handled that.

Talking with people along the way.

Eating Georgia peach ice cream sandwiches.

The grounds – a golf course plopped into a southern garden or maybe vice versa.

Seeing men waiting in long lines to use the restroom.

Watching my husband enjoy this day – that was the best of all.

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by Bonnie Anderson on April 29, 2025  •  Permalink
Posted in Current Events, People that I Meet, Stuff I Go Through
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on April 29, 2025

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2025/04/29/the-masters-part-2-of-2/

89th Masters at Augusta National

It doesn’t get more southern than Augusta, Georgia, in the Spring. Everything is blooming, especially the azaleas; but we didn’t go there to take in the beauty of the blooms. We went for the Masters.

Last Christmas, our son Jesse surprised us with this opportunity. He had secured a pair of tickets to this coveted event. Jesse planned out the four-day tournament, which six of us would attend in daily shifts. Sunday was Bob’s and my day. I honestly felt like I was taking somebody’s spot as I don’t play golf and only watch when Bob’s watching and I happen to walk into the room when it sounds like somebody made an amazing shot or Bob pauses it because I just have to see this!

Nevertheless, Jesse wanted me to go with his dad, and I’m glad I did. This is tradition at its finest, and I love traditions. It was such fun to accompany Bob as he took in the course and watched his favorite golfers do their thing.

Getting into the event was an event in itself. We arrived mid-morning as the leaders wouldn’t tee off until after lunch. Since I am currently experiencing knee issues, we sought a handicap parking spot, but they were all full. I guess handicaps at the Augusta National are not a thing. So, we walked in, me with cane in hand in case my knee wanted to do its thing. Having that cane saved us about a ten-minute portion of the walk, as it was advertising that a ride would be lovely. We hopped on a waiting golf cart to shorten our walk.

This gave us a brief time to rest before we got to the course itself. It took about twenty minutes to get inside the gate, including the obligatory search of the bags to ensure we didn’t bring in any contraband. Contraband would include cell phones or cameras. They are strictly verboten. We knew that going in, so it was not an issue, but I wondered what life would be like without a phone all day long. Would it really count that we were at the Masters if we didn’t capture it on camera and post it on social media? Yes. It counts.

First order of business was to get in the switchback line to go into the golf store. This was another twenty minute wait, but I was happy to do it because you gotta have swag. It really wasn’t swag in the truest sense of the word though, because we all didn’t get some things. They sell out and nothing is free, of course. The big deal of the day was the Masters gnome. They stock the tournament gift shop with these fresh each morning, but when they’re gone, they are gone. These sell for about $50, but you can pick one up today on Ebay for upwards of $400.

Jesse was able to secure a gnome one morning, but on our day Bob and I were not willing to get up earlier than necessary to get a gnome that we’d have to carry back to the car because it’s too big to lug around the course. We were concerned that my knee would decide it was finished before Bob was finished, so I opted out of trying to get a gnome. Yes, I opted out. It was a rare moment of common sense winning the battle to get a collectible to display in our garden or sell on Ebay. Who am I kidding? I’d never sell it.

By the time we entered the gift shop, there was talk that gnomes might be found in the back corner, but alas, that was a rumor. The upside – we didn’t have to trek back to the car. And when I say we, you know I mean Bob. We did purchase can cozies (a collectible that is manageable and lightweight), ball markers, mugs, and hats. I think it is required to spend a minimum amount of money at the shop. I’m sure the Masters folks work that into their budget. They’d have to because the food is so cheap.

Everything is permanent at Augusta National. That includes the grandstands, scoreboards, concession stands, bathrooms, and phone banks. Everything. And you cannot see any of these things from the actual course. There’s nothing to distract the golfers. Plus, nobody is asking them for a selfie along their way. People are watching the tournament through their eyes not their camera lens. It is so well thought-out.

Bob and I placed our official Masters chairs along the fairway of the 13th hole, also known as the Azalea hole. It is aptly named as I’ve never seen such a beautiful display. I plopped down for a rest while Bob explored the course. This is another brilliant thing about the Masters. They sell camp chairs emblazoned with their emblem. (We didn’t have to buy chairs, because Jesse had already done that.) When you want to get up and wander, you just leave your chair (make sure you mark it as yours) and go sit in someone else’s chair. Of course, there are grandstands, but all the holes are lined with green camp chairs, so seating is easily accessible, at least during the first half of the day. If the original owner returns, you get up and move along. At the end of the day, you take your chair home with you. The Masters encourages you to purchase a chair, set it up, and take it down, all for the low price of $35. They actually get the patrons (not fans or customers) to pay up and do the labor. That’s brilliant.

Bob returned from touring the course and we set out to get some food. The concessions and restrooms were in the same area. I should add that this was the first time I had seen lines to the men’s room triple the lines to the ladies’ room. Retribution! 

The phone banks were interesting. I think most people were using them so they could call someone and have Augusta National show up on the caller ID. I didn’t think of that, but then again, I only know two phone numbers and Bob’s is one of them.

Lunchtime was simple – egg salad and pimento cheese sandwiches with Georgia peach ice cream sandwiches for dessert. These are the must-haves if you want to immerse yourself in everything Augusta National, and they’re cheap. While I don’t really understand the appeal of a pimento cheese sandwich, I did try it and found it to be worth every penny of the $1.50 we spent. I did a little research and discovered that the pimento cheese sandwich debuted in 1947, and it cost a quarter. That is the humble beginning of this Augusta National craze. I prefer the egg salad, which is also a bargain at a buck fifty. The peach ice cream sandwich, that’s a tradition I can get behind.

This is Part 1 of 2. Part 2 will offer a look at the people we met during the tournament.

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by Bonnie Anderson on April 28, 2025  •  Permalink
Posted in Current Events, Family, People that I Meet
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on April 28, 2025

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2025/04/28/89th-masters-at-augusta-national/

A Day of Romance?

Valentine’s Day. These are words that challenge me. Bob and I don’t make a big deal over the day, but we do recognize it. You don’t stay happily married for almost 50 years by ignoring the day designated especially for romantic love.

Most years we try to pull away to have time for ourselves. That’s challenging. A lot of married folks our age can simply stay home and celebrate together, but we do not live alone, so that can be awkward. I don’t like to go to crowded restaurants on that day either. We go out to dinner frequently, so it’s not that unique, though I love to go out to dinner, so it’s not a bad choice. Any excuse not to cook it great by me.

This year we decided to go to one of our favorite places – the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive. This is my birding happy place. The views are expanses of blue and shades of green, which are enhanced by the lovely sounds of birdsong. The drive can take as little as two hours, but it usually takes us closer to three as we stop and take a walk along Lake Apopka and pull over at multiple places to pause and bird watch. It’s relaxing. At least it usually is.

For Valentine’s Day we packed a picnic lunch before we headed to the drive. We had never done that before, so we thought it would be special. We also made reservations for a movie later that night. Captain America: Brave New World would not qualify as a rom/com, but we enjoy the franchise, so why not! Because we didn’t know how long we’d be on the drive, we decided to wing it when it came to dinner. We knew restaurants would be packed, so we’d just let it play out.

The opening road on the drive this time of year is always packed with alligators, ducks, coots, and gallinules. Lake Apopka is a prime migratory spot, so we knew we’d have lots to see. I have a trusty bird guide to help identify the ducks. There are so many species! Every year I say I’m going to brush up on my duck knowledge, but by the end of migration season, I’m still weak as a duckling in my identification skills. It was a good thing I have a birding guide. It would have been an even better thing if I had taken it off the dining room table and put it in the car.

The drive in was lovely. We even spotted a couple of Wilson’s Snipes with their extremely long bill, so if you want to trick someone into going on a snipe hunt, this is not the place.

At the end of the road, we walked along the lake trying to spot alligators. We hadn’t seen a single one all the way in and that is strange. I reminded myself that they don’t take them in at night as I pictured Florida cowboys herding them into pens. Nope, that isn’t the way it works. Finally, I spotted a big daddy lurking by the shore with another gator swimming in the current passing him by.

We returned to our car and encountered a road closure that forced all the vehicles to take the same road – the road along the lakeshore, our least favorite way to go. That is when the tides turned. You don’t see as much on that part of the drive, and there is only one pull-out to bird watch. We were out for a relaxing day, so we figured this was a mere bump in the dirt road. We didn’t care. Until we did.

The speed limit along the drive is about 10 mph. It’s a bumpy, dirt road, and it’s made for watching wildlife from your vehicle, so that’s about right. The car leading the pack along the lakeshore that day must have been new or totally self-absorbed or possibly fascinated by the lack of wildlife that day (it was the worst day for bird watching we have ever experienced there) or maybe cruel and sadistic. I don’t know, but I do know that he drove 2-3 mph the entire way. By halfway down this long, boring road, there were at least 25 vehicles behind him, each with a driver ready to strangle somebody. When we approached the pull-out, I was hopeful that he would do just that and let us pass. Nope.

I should point out that there is no passing. On one side of the road is a drop-off to a canal and swamp area. The other side is Lake Apopka. It was brutal, and I think at one point a turtle passed us by. As we approached the sharp right turn of the road, there was another opportunity for this driver to pull over and let our growing line of cars pass. Nope again.

By now the car behind us was getting antsy. He pulled up close to our rear bumper on the driver’s side, signaling that he wanted to pass. He kept on us like a heron after a snake. Then he decided to honk his horn. I know he was desperate. We all were! But seriously! We were at least ten cars from the beginning of the line. Perhaps he wanted to start a procession of honking to alert the driver at the start.

At long last we reached the picnic area. Once again there were few birds to be seen, but we could tell they had been there by the splattering of bird poop on the tables. Ambiance at its best for a bird watcher? Uh, no, but we made do. From our perch on the poopified picnic table, we had the opportunity to people watch as another long parade of cars was inching along the road towards us at a snail’s pace. One oblivious driver got out of his truck, not 15 feet from the parking area, to view a baby gator. This blocked the entire road full of unhappy birders. As another man got out of his truck to approach the clueless gator gawker, Bob and I decided to skedaddle and get ahead of whatever wildlife was about to be on display. (Reminder: It’s illegal to feed alligators, especially to feed them people.)

At the end of the drive, we discovered that we would have plenty of time to go to a relaxing dinner before the movie, except we didn’t have reservations. We got in the car around 5:00 to get a jump on the Valentine crowd, but we made the mistake of choosing Longhorn Steak House, which is a favorite of the over sixty crowd, so they were packed. Five in the evening is regular dinnertime for them, so down the road we went.

I called Miller’s Ale House and they said it was only a ten minute wait and we should come ahead, no need to leave our name. When we got there, it was a twenty minute wait and the receptionist said we should have called ahead and left our name. We looked at each other and shrugged it off. Twenty minutes wasn’t going to be a problem. That is until it turned into 45 minutes, and we still had names ahead of us. Captain American was getting closer and closer, but we really needed Doctor Who or some other time traveler to help us achieve our plan.

Well, Chipotle had no line at all. Go figure! We weren’t too disappointed because we do eat out often, but it was kind of amusing that the place where we could enjoy a meal alone together was fast food. The rest of the world was waiting at Miller’s Ale House and Longhorn.

Buying tickets to go to the movies is so great now. You don’t have to wait in line or worry about your seat selection. You can get that empty seat buffer between you and the next group. It’s easily done on your smartphone. We settled in with plenty of time.

Minutes before the show started, a young man with a big tray full of food plopped down right beside me in our buffer zone. I should mention that the theater was only about a third full. I thought maybe he was joining the group to his right, but no, he was there to watch the movie with me.

It didn’t take but a minute to surmise that this young man with the welcoming smile and friendly manner had some special needs and that he was a huge Marvel fan. He was so excited that when the movie began, he clapped and informed me that Captain America is not Steve Rogers anymore, but it’s now Sam Wilson who was the Falcon. He didn’t want me to miss a thing. He chatted right up to the start of the movie, and I wondered if he was going to disturb anyone, but he kept his voice low while informing me of who was who each time a new character appeared. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I was familiar with the storylines. It was a privilege to watch the movie with this fellow, and I have to say a highlight of a very weird Valentine’s Day. Of course, Bob was there, but my new friend kept his voice low enough that even Bob was unaware of his comments. I’m glad he chose the buffer seat next to me.

Hope your Valentine’s Day was memorable, too.

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by Bonnie Anderson on March 20, 2025  •  Permalink
Posted in Birding, Florida Living, Holidays, marriage, People that I Meet
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on March 20, 2025

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2025/03/20/a-day-of-romance/

Bonnie and Kim Go to Yosemite (Part 2 of 2)

Part of the fun of being in a national park is the people you meet. I think being surrounded by all that beauty and feeling small in the enormity of creation brings out the best in people.

During our 3.5 days in Yosemite, we met an adorable family from Germany. Actually, I met so many Germans that I wondered who was left over there. This particular family captured my heart as they consisted of parents approaching my age and four sons who appeared to be in their twenties.

The young men were having a blast climbing on everything. They had beautiful walking sticks which were scavenged from the forest floor. I noticed one of the guys with his slung over his shoulder. When I questioned his unusual way of using a walking stick on this mostly uphill trail, he began using it in normal fashion and said that it was much more helpful that way. This began a conversation that continued on and off as we hiked the 1.9 miles of Washburn Trail toward Mariposa Grove.

Washburn Trail is purported to be a moderate hike. It is mostly uphill and this Florida girl knew she was no longer at sea level. The elevation was 7500 feet, which made it more necessary than usual to take a break to breathe. The German family was also taking breaks (I’m sure for the sake of the parents). This enabled our ongoing conversation.

As we were admiring their walking sticks, one fellow offered proudly that his brother was the finder of walking sticks. After hesitating for effect, he added, and wasps. His outstretched hand revealed the swelling resultant from encountering the wasps. Kim offered first aid, which was declined. She said she was sure she would be in tears with that kind of swelling.

The young man’s response was simple, “We don’t cry in Germany.” And then they all climbed up a big bolder and posed for pictures for their mama. How I missed my own sons as I watched this sweet group.

We also met the Simon Says guy. Steve Max is a professional Simon Says caller who has frequented pre-game shows of teams including the Orlando Magic. He was camera shy, but I googled him and discovered he is as real as bigfoot Half Dome.

We never saw any bears on this trip, but there were signs everywhere to warn of their presence. I spoke to another group of German women who asked if I had seen any bears and I admitted I had not. At least not since I was home in Florida where they do frequent my backyard. This blew their minds as they confessed to knowledge of alligators in Florida but not bears. I shared my backyard video and from the looks on their faces I am sure that they will never come to Florida for fear of our wildlife. I assured them that Interstate 4 is far more dangerous than any animal they might encounter.

My backyard visitor here in the Orlando suburbs.

In Mariposa Grove we met a three-generation Amish family who were camping just outside the park in BLM (Bureau of Land Management) territory. I was unaware of this cost-free option, but when they informed of us the rigors of BLM camping, I could see why I never came across it on a google search. There are no electrical hook-ups, no showers, no potties – just land. This group told us of bringing in their own water and latrine system. Every one of the children had their hair done nicely and they were dressed so cute. They were super polite and friendly. The only thing that gave away the lack of easy access to water was their dirty feet. Makes sense. Dirty feet mean lots of outdoor fun.

Another thing of note to be found in Yosemite is the plague. I don’t think it is of Biblical proportion, but there are signs warning people to stay away from wildlife – especially cute wildlife like chipmunks and ground squirrels, whose fleas can carry the disease. Just one more reason to give animals a wide berth.

One of the strangest things which I encountered in the park and something I think my grandchildren would struggle to identify, even with a smart phone, was in the Glacier Point area. This was a relic of the twentieth century. Conjecture would say it’s there because of poor internet availability. At least you could dial 911, though that may need to be made clearer for coming generations.

By this point of the trip, I was half crazed with trying to identify landmarks, birds, and trees with my iPhone. I so wanted it to get things right. My phone did not offer any explanation as to what this was. It did not even say it was Half Dome, which was a pleasant surprise.

Along the lines of “Take nothing but pictures and leave nothing but footprints,” I had to wonder who was trying to abscond with the heavy picnic tables scattered throughout the park. Is this kind of deterrent really necessary?

One thing we did take that I’ll share with you as long as you promise not to report us, is rocks. Full disclosure, there may have been a few pinecones, too. I think they have enough and more seem to be falling all the time, but Kim is obsessed with rocks and that rubbed off on me. As I was flying this trip, I did not have the luxury of collecting a lot of rocks, but while we were down at the edge of a stream, I found the prettiest little rock with pink and blue through it. I showed it to Kim and said there must be a be another one around here somewhere. Maybe it chipped off a bigger rock. The excitement was building for this one-of-a-kind rock. Then, as I rubbed it with my fingers to get dirt off, it became rubbery and I realized I had found a piece of chewed up gum.

I did not bring this sappy pinecone home.

How can I sum up my Yosemite experience? In one word – WOW! Kim and I kept coming back to this simple word as all adjectives had been used and overused to describe the beauty around us. I will share some of my favorite pictures with you and when you think, WOW, remember that a picture can only capture a small portion of how majestic and beautiful this park truly is.

Also, a big thank you to my sweet husband for making it possible for me to join my friend in his favorite park. If he ever has the opportunity to visit Yellowstone without me, I’ll have to remember how gracious he was.

If you’d like to read about Kim’s adventure, she is on Instagram #following_helen

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by Bonnie Anderson on November 8, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Animals, Friendship, National Parks, People that I Meet, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on November 8, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/11/08/bonnie-and-kim-go-to-yosemite-part-2-of-2/

Fun at the Polling Place 

Why is the place which we vote called the polling place? There are so many polls being taken to see who has the edge before we vote. That makes calling the voting place a polling place confusing to me. According to Webster’s Dictionary, a poll can either be the process by which we vote or a head. Score a point for the confusing versatility of the English language. If I had overseen the compilation of a dictionary, I would not have touched that assignment with a ten-foot poll, I mean pole. Essentially, the origins of the word polling place came from getting a head count for an election.

Now that we’ve learned something, it’s time to go to the polling place and vote. Although it is not on the ballot, fun has my vote. Smiling at people and joking with them while thanking them for serving at the polling place also has my vote. You can learn a lot about a person by how they respond to a joke.

Scene:

It’s early voting time, and Bob and I approach the polling place, a former Party City which now welcomes all parties, Democrats, Republicans, and Independents alike, into their location. Two people wait to greet us and direct us into the building. Before entering, we need to deposit my mom’s and sister’s mail-in ballots in the monitored collection box. They are examined for signatures, and Bob and I are given the once-over in what I assume is their effort to see if we are padding the ballot box.

One of the workers is a man close to our age. He’s jovial and hands us Just Voted stickers to take home. The other worker is a woman who seems friendly enough. I am a little out of step here, so I affix a sticker onto my shirt, proclaiming to all that I just voted. Only I didn’t.

That was questioned at the table which we stopped at once inside the building. I was helped by a woman around my age. (I guess we have more time on our hands than a lot of people.) She looked at my sticker and said inquisitively, “You voted?”

“Oh, no,” I responded and went on to explain to her that I guess my sister wasn’t getting a sticker after all. The records verified that I indeed had not yet voted.

She then made a comment to the tune of Florida isn’t like California. Immediately she looked embarrassed, but I assured her that a little joke at the expense of one of our united fifty was okay with me, especially if it was California. Her guffaw was safe with me. She seemed relieved.

I know this is a serious election. They all are. Have you noticed that almost every presidential election people say is the most important one of our lives and the state of the republic hangs in balance? I guess I’ve voted a few times now, because that line has gotten old, even if it is true.

I do believe it is an important election, mainly because the sides are so starkly opposite each other, and I fear a truly united United States is impossible. I do believe that we can try harder not to hate each other though, especially since it may be that half the country is going to be disappointed and sad (hopefully not angry) next week.

But I digress. After painstakingly filling in all the bubbles, I proceeded to the last usher in my journey. She tells me to place one ballot at a time of our two-page ballots into the machine. After I do, she hands me a sticker and looks confused.

Just at that moment, when I decline the sticker, anonymous California joker comes over to explain and join me in some more banter. I tell them both that my sister won’t be getting a sticker this year. You must be present to win. California girl and I laugh and high five. The other woman smiles politely.

As we leave, we pass the first two poll workers. I tell them that I’ll see them tomorrow when we can do this all over again. The man chuckles. The woman tells me that I’ll be going to jail.

My conclusion – there are two kinds of people in this world, and I have no idea if they are Democrats or Republicans, but I like the ones who laugh at my jokes.

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by Bonnie Anderson on November 1, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Current Events, People that I Meet, Stuff I Go Through
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on November 1, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/11/01/fun-at-the-polling-place/

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Go O’s! My family are lifelong Oriole fans, and my mother is the leader of the pack. I have fond and confusing memories from when I was a kid back in the sixties. I would knock on her bedroom door late at night and find her listening to the ballgame on the radio in the dark while wearing her glasses. She said it helped her to focus, and you do what you do to keep your eye on the ball when it’s dark and you can only hear the game.

A few weeks ago, Bob and I ventured to my home state of Maryland for my fiftieth high school reunion. It was held in Annapolis, just down the road from where I was born and close enough to Camden Yards in downtown Baltimore for us to stay over a few days and catch a game.

I was super excited. Bob and I had on matching orange Oriole shirts, and I donned my thirty-year-old Oriole earrings and a brand-new, flowered Oriole ballcap. We had front-row seats down from the third baseline near the foul pole – a great view of our favorite left fielder, Colton Cowser. Unfortunately, he didn’t start that day.

That was the least of the disappointments for us that drizzly Tuesday night in Baltimore, but there was a silver lining on all those rain clouds and all that was required to take advantage of it was showing up at the stadium two hours early and waiting in a light rain to take advantage of the first ever Oriole’s Yard Sale. Usually, you have to pay for things at a Yard Sale, but this one promised free overstock giveaways. That was right up my alley and totally worth a long wait in the rain.

We made friends with people in line who were season ticket holders, and they showed us the ropes, including how to sneak a cowbell into the stadium. They were our escorts to the “sale.”

The cowbell was a gift from my sister Linda to Bob and was in honor of Colton Cowser. When Cowser comes to the plate, the entire stadium moos (not to be confused with boos). People come dressed like a milkman and there are cow prints dotted throughout the stadium. Linda gave Bob a cow-print hat, too. It was a shame that Colton didn’t start. He was one of many not in the starting line-up due to injury or manager’s decision.

The Oriole mascot showed up in the stands behind us. Note the cow headgear.

But back to our SWAG. Our arms were overflowing with 6 t-shirts, 2 ball caps, 2 mini tote bags, 2 water bottles, 2 Oriole Hawaiian shirts, 2 ski caps, and 0 bobbleheads (You can’t have everything!)

After standing in line for quite a while to receive our SWAG, a nice young man escorted us to our seats and even used a chamois to wipe them off for us, but our hands were so full and everything was so wet, we could not put anything down. Bob managed the loot while I hightailed it to the Fanatic Store to buy a tote bag, which they did not have on supply, but they happily gave me a big shopping bag.

We crammed our stuff in the bag and were able to sit down and take in the enormity of the stadium. The distance from home plate to the outfield corners and the center field wall is much greater than it appears on television. The distance from our seats, which were protected by a net to keep us from being beaned by an errant outfield hit, was also greater than we figured it would be. Bob and I looked at each other and said, “We’ll never be able to see what’s going on from out here.” The one thing we could appreciate from our angle was how fast the pitches were. Amazing.

Our original plan was to eat at Boog’s BBQ. Boog Powell is the renowned Oriole first baseman of my childhood during the glory days of the Orioles. He was quite the power hitter, and I met him once at Boog’s BBQ 17 years ago. I don’t think he remembers. The garage sale took too much time, so we opted for chicken nuggets, a cold hotdog, fries and drinks. This was one of the most expensive meals of our trip, but we were at a ball game!

Two years ago, the Orioles showed signs of being a good team again. It had been a long rebuilding time. Then came last year. They were exciting from the get-go, and we followed them all the way to the playoffs. Shortstop Gunnar Henderson was named rookie of the year. I was proud to wear my Oriole shirts in public again. In prior years whenever I wore Oriole garb, I was greeted with shaking of heads and maybe next year. It was rough.

This year they started off with a bang, which led to a fizzle after the mid-season All Star game in July, which I blame partially on ESPN giving Gunnar Henderson custom-made shoes with a Lego motif. Gunnar’s game fell apart like an imitation Lego tower. Poor Gunnar. (I hate you ESPN.) Thankfully, we had such a big lead in our division that it was enough to keep us in the playoffs even if we didn’t win the division. (As I type this, our season is over much too quickly. Maybe next year!)

Going to a ballpark is a different experience from watching a game on TV. While television is preferred if you want to see everything, have a bathroom handy, not pay $12 for a hot dog, or not walk through the streets of Baltimore at night on your way back to the hotel, there’s nothing like the roar of the crowd and the sound of the organ to put you in the mood for a game, plus they showed us o TV.

Where else but at an Oriole game would everyone stand and actually sing the National Anthem. I mean everyone. I loved it. At the part of the song that goes “O, say does that star-spangled,” everyone yells “O.” It’s Oriole tradition. It’s fun. It’s America at its silliest and finest. I love it and I’m glad we went, regardless of the 10-0 loss. Maybe I’ll go again in another 17 years.

Bob and I, no worse for the wear, on Eutaw Street after the game.

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by Bonnie Anderson on October 16, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in People that I Meet, Sports, Stuff I Go Through
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on October 16, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/10/16/take-me-out-to-the-ballgame/

Sometimes I Could just Scream!

January started off active for Bob and me. He had been suffering with issues from pinched nerves in his neck for some time and finally succumbed to fusion surgery. It went well, and he was told to rest and no driving for six weeks. Several days after the surgery, he noticed one of the veins in his arm had become more pronounced than usual and was uncomfortable. We were off to get an ultrasound – doctor’s orders.

It was convenient for me to drop him off as I had a doctor’s appointment just a few miles away from the imaging center. (Such is life for the over 65 crowd.) It was even more convenient when, as I was talking to our doctor (who’s also our friend) at the end of my visit, his nurse received a call saying that Bob needed to go to the ER. That place on his arm was a blood clot. I was literally talking to the doctor when the call came in. I would be there in less than 10 minutes.

I don’t know much about blood clots except they can be serious and you don’t want one. I picked up Bob and we arrived at the ER in short order. The ER insisted on running their own ultrasound. I guess they don’t take just anybody’s word for anything. It was a busy evening at the ER, so after the imaging, Bob and I opted to get away from all the people coughing up their lungs and blowing noses like they had stock in Kleenex. We waited outside on a bench with a heated blanket provided by the kind nursing staff.

As we huddled under the blankets on this atypically chilly January evening, a young man walked by. I read his shirt and obeyed.

He looked at me when I screamed, “Ahhhh!” He seemed a little taken aback, but he kept walking.

Bob shook his head and very soon we were called in to get the official word. Yes, he had blood clots in his arm, but no they were not in a serious area and not life-threatening. We were sent home with instructions to use a heating pad on the area several times a day and they should resolve on their own, which they ultimately did.

As we walked through the parking lot to our car, that same young man with the scream shirt passed us. I greeted him. “Hey there. Do you know why I screamed when you walked by us earlier?”

“Not really. I just thought you were crazy,” he replied.

“You may not be far off,” I laughed. “I just read your shirt and did what I was told.”

He smiled and we went our separate ways until I almost immediately turned back to him as I felt that prompting that I should say something else. He was smoking when he walked past me. “You know you should really give those things up. They are so bad for you.”

He responded politely that he had tried in the past and it didn’t work.

“Do you know Jesus? Talk to God and ask him for the help to quit,” I said.

He told me that he had prayed in the past and that he would again. He thanked me and we went our separate ways.

I’m thankful for my impulsive response. I have no idea why I screamed when I read his shirt. That was even a bit much for me, but how else would I have had an opening to talk to a 20-something-year-old guy without screaming to get his attention first. I love how God gives us little opportunities in our life to speak to people and encourage them toward him. What funny openings have you had that gave you an opportunity to speak into someone’s life?

Just for fun. My grandkids said Bob looked like Darth Vader when he wore his neck brace. Bob chose his shirt to accent the positive and submitted to a photo. There is good in him.

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by Bonnie Anderson on August 13, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Faith, Family, People that I Meet, Stuff I Go Through
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on August 13, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/08/13/sometimes-i-could-just-scream/

An American in Scotland

While the guys were golfing in St Andrews, there was shopping to be done. If I were a fan of using alliteration in my writing, I would say that St Andrews is simply adorable, so consider it said. The University of St Andrews is at the heart of the town, and it was graduation time while we were there, which elevated the charming level.

The town was a hub of activity, but Dacia (my daughter-in-law) and I managed to find a cute spot for lunch. It’s a good thing we got seated before noon, because a line quickly formed as we ate our salads. Are you aware of the reputation of Scottish food?  I’ll just say that you don’t go there for the cuisine. One can only eat so much haggis, and for me that was very little. I felt obligated to try it – I was in Scotland, after all, but one bite was enough. Sheep internal organs mixed with fillers to disguise what you are eating was not for me. We decided to have salads with grilled chicken for a change.

When we finished eating we made sure to use the facilities (i.e. toilet) before leaving the restaurant. It can be challenging to find a toilet over there, and a lot of places want you to pay. Therefore, we tried never to miss an opportunity when it presented itself. And this one made quite the presentation.

Here in the states, we have lots of room, especially the further west you go. But in Europe, space is at a premium. That is why this toilet is nothing short of brilliant. The toilet stall itself was about twice the size of a phone booth, and when I sat down, I was greeted by my reflection in a mirror (from the shoulders up). On the lower section of the mirror were written the words, “You’re looking good!” It was efficient use of space and a reassuring statement. I could make sure I didn’t have spinach in my teeth; therefore, literally doing two things at once. When I stood up, I had only to turn around to wash my hands on the sink that was part of the top of the toilet tank. There was an air dryer to the right of it. The perfect marriage of efficiency and weirdness. I loved it.

We were ready to visit some shops and spy out the graduates as they walked down the street with beaming faces.

I loved watching the graduates in their caps and gowns and sometimes kilts. Not to be confused with not wearing pants or kilts, of course. Everyone was decent! It wasn’t like that famous Braveheart scene which we can all recall.

Speaking of that scene, I had the best time with a couple, probably near retirement age, who owned a sweet little shop in St Andrews. I found the people in Scotland very friendly but none more than this couple. At first, I didn’t recognize him as the owner. He looked like he was getting ready to stock a shelf as he had a box of goods in his hand. I turned a corner, and we ended up facing each other. I offered that he should go first as he was getting paid to be there and I was merely shopping.

“Oh, nay,” he said. “I don’t get paid to work here.”

“Then you must be the owner,” I replied as he made his way behind the counter.

As I put my purchases on the counter, I figured his wife was the lady sitting on a stool in the corner. She was smiling at me and listening to the conversation. This is where Braveheart comes in. There is much souvenir merchandise devoted to that famous mooning scene on the battlefront of the epic movie. I had seen it on aprons, mugs, and at that moment emblazoned on the stack of coasters that was sitting by the cash register. Men in kilts mooning aka Braveheart is quite an industry.

I picked up a coaster and said, “But you must make a fortune from the residuals from these!”

At this point his wife broke into laughter and he smiled that friendly Scottish smile that without a word acknowledged that what I said was true – he had a secret life as a kilt model. He thanked me for my business, and after a few more laughs and comments, we were on our way.

The goods on display for sale had me reminding myself that the month was June. Evidently they don’t have much summer in Scotland.

I wasn’t in Orlando anymore!

After returning home, my old friend, Diane, reminded me that I had put in some time wearing a kilt. I had completely forgotten my time as part of a Job’s Daughters (teenage girls’ part of Masonic organization) drill team. I had been the captain for a couple years, and I loved it. The captain barked out the commands and guided the team through maneuvers in competitions and also in a few parades. I’m including a picture here to end this post. Yep, we weren’t exactly holding to the letter of the Scottish kilt law, if there is such a thing, but we did have a good time.

15-year-old me on my knees in the front with my co-captain, Gayle, to my left. Diane on front row far right by our coach. I spent a lot of wonderful time with these girls. Sweet memories.

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by Bonnie Anderson on July 11, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Europe, People that I Meet, shopping, Stuff I Go Through, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on July 11, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/07/11/an-american-in-scotland/

Cold in Como

Our first day in Como was cold (by Florida standards for sure) and add to that a 25mph wind; and we decided to forego boating on beautiful Lake Como. Too choppy, too chilly! The best option for us was taking the funicular up the side of the steep hill to Brunate, a lovely Italian village.

The funicular was completed in 1894. Since spending time in Europe, that didn’t even seem old anymore. On exiting the funicular, we were treated to lovely views. My breath was taken away by the view of the Alps, but the surroundings we were standing in were lovely as well. This was Brunate.

Hotel in Brunate

The beautiful, blue sky was compensation for the cold temperatures, though I did check the shop for a beanie style hat to keep my ears warm. It was to no avail as it was supposed to be spring. This was not the first time that I had inquired as to the normalcy of the winter-like temperatures. And this was not the first time that I was told there is a saying in Italy – “April does what it wants!” No worries, I would be warm again when I got back to Florida.

There was a man making bracelets set up in an out-of-the-way booth. He told me the bracelets were made of Murano glass, which he described as “important” to Italy, particularly Venice. He also was selling lace doilies. These he described as important as well, especially since his mother made them. It’s a treat to chat with local people and hear them talk about their country. I love the way the Italians use the word “important” to describe things dear to their heritage.

The funicular only goes so far up the hill, but we hired a taxi/jeep to take us to the top. We figured we’d ride up and walk down, but after our ride along the steep, narrow streets, we thought better of it, a decision our knees would thank us for!

Once we got out of the jeep, there were stairs waiting for us to go to the lighthouse at the very top of the hill (note, for Floridians this is like mountain climbing).

Up, up, up we went, and we were rewarded with the best views of the Alps. Whatever breath hadn’t been taken away before, was surely gone as we feasted our eyes on the Swiss Alps.

All this fresh air and walking really stirs up an appetite. We had choices. Perhaps the Osteria Bar and Pizzeria, which was attached to a church or was that vice versa.

That was almost novel enough to have us eat there, but we opted for a place with a better view. We were glad we did. Our first course was bruschetta three ways. We order bruschetta often, both at home and abroad. This was the best we ever had. Our favorite had caramelized onions atop. Magnifica! We followed that with soup in keeping with our pursuit of warmth. Yum!

Back at sea level (or lake level), before we joined our friends for dinner and wine, I found a pop-up soccer souvenir stand and bought a beanie. My ears were grateful. Now I looked like a fan of the Italian national team. That works for me.

On Sunday some of us ventured out to church. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, because a service in a language I could not understand didn’t sound worthy of rising early. Let me tell you, though, you never know what you may experience, and this was worth it. Danny, who is also the founding pastor of our church and like our other traveling companions, a friend for over 40 years, wanted to check out the churches. We split again, with some sleeping in and some of us going to the 10:00 service at the Como Duomo, at least we went for the beginning of it. Listening to the pipe organ is amazing in any language.

The previous day during a walk we had found an Evangelical church. The service there began at 10:30, so we did some church hopping. This church was modest in stature. The people were friendly and several spoke English. We were greeted warmly and every person we met was excited to introduce us to the pastor. She is originally from Germany, but she speaks English well. So well, in fact, that she preached the service in Italian and English. We weren’t sure if that was for our benefit or not, but it was very moving that she would go to the trouble.

They handed out song booklets like what we had in the church we were going to back in the 1980s and 90s. It was a joy to see some of the old songs printed in English and Italian. The church was close to Presbyterian in doctrine, and their service that day was abbreviated as they had a meeting going on after the service, so we were there on the perfect day. Gloria a Dio!

It was an afternoon of meandering around Lake Como and imagining what it would be like if it weren’t so windy! We made the best of it and totally enjoyed being immersed in Como. Our hotel was situated in Piazza Camillo Benso Conte di Cavour (piazza translates to square). We happened upon a band finishing up a concert. They were playing Beat It by Michael Jackson.

There was lots of activity in the square as the band broke down the stage, including an alley of clowns that wandered onto the scene. (Yes, that’s what a group of clowns is called. That was new to me.)

Recorded music was being played in the background and we watched as folks boogied across the square while kids kicked a soccer ball around and Danny finally got McDonalds. After a while, you need a taste of home.

We were scheduled to leave Como and go to Switzerland the next morning via train. The itinerary was Como to Lugano to Lucerne. The hotel concierge informed us that we would likely have to deal with a scheduled train strike. They have them periodically, so to the Italians it’s part of life. But for us, this was alarming. We were told that we could possibly get out before it starts but we should have an alternative plan. Start and stop times of these is precise and they would last 24 hours or so. That was not information that comforted us.

We walked to a close-by train station (not the one we would depart from) and the attendant said that our train would not be affected. She even double-checked it with the main train station and told us we should be fine. Probably because of that pesky language barrier, we weren’t completely relieved. I’d say we were about 80 percent. Total relief wouldn’t happen until the next day when we hopefully boarded our train.

The following morning, we arrived at the Como S. Giovanni Railway Station, and it appeared our trip would not be cancelled. Nearly every other trip was canceled due to the strike. We were thankful as we set out on the next chapter.

Switzerland, here we come!

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by Bonnie Anderson on May 27, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Europe, Faith, Friendship, People that I Meet, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on May 27, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/05/27/cold-in-como/

My Life on the Rocks

I have a new obsession, I mean hobby. I stumbled upon it at the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive, my favorite local birding area, with over 367 species noted. In addition, it is chocked full of alligators. Otters, raccoons, and the occasional bobcat family reside in the area. And, rocks can be found there!

This may be surprising to you as by now you likely know that I live in Central Florida. We are not known for our rocks down here. Sand, rain, hurricanes, mosquitoes, construction on I-4 – yes. Rocks – not so much. Be that as it may, there is no denying that I collect rocks, and my favorite place to find them is the North Shore of Lake Apopka.

I’m not talking about your everyday, run-of-the-mill rocks. I also don’t care if they are igneous, sedimentary, or metamorphic, which are the three rock classifications that I may or may not have had to verify on google. I have two classifications for my rocks. Painted and not painted. For me to collect one, it must have something pretty or fun painted on it. I will also accept the occasional chunk of concrete, seashell, or wood if it’s painted.

I’m not sure exactly when the rock hiding craze started, but I know it’s in full swing. Over a year ago, as I was scrolling the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive Facebook page, I learned of a few generous painters who would leave “Easter eggs” out there for people to find. This was going to be better than my childhood collection of bottle caps. Plus, I wouldn’t have to hide it under my bed to avoid ridicule from my siblings.

I love going to the drive and looking at the birds, especially in the winter during migration times and in the spring during nesting season. I’ve also seen river otters and marsh rabbits. Bobcats are there, too; but you couldn’t prove it by me. Summer is full of alligators (my highest one-day count is 113) and what I believe should be the Florida state bird – the Common Gallinule. They are everywhere – much more common than the Northern Mockingbird.

So even though I told myself and anyone who might ask me that I was finished going to the drive until it cools down, I was compelled to go. Because there are rocks, and they are pretty. Plus, it gives me a rush to find them, which is probably because I have no talent in that arena. I can’t draw a straight line with a ruler.

It took me a long time to find my first. I was lamenting about my lack of success to my friend, Debi. Debi is one of those people who wins contests. She offered that I could have one of hers – a magnanimous gesture which would take the fun out of it for someone as competitive as I am. And, of course, Debi had found several. Her keen eye did not surprise me, but I declined her generous offer. I must find one all by myself – like a big girl.

Last February, I found one. It was beautiful, even though it was not a depiction of nature. It was a taco. Still, I like tacos and I was thrilled to find a rock of my very own. I put my taco rock on the shelf for all to see. What an accomplishment! I was happy.

Happiness sure is fleeting. It didn’t take long for me to realize that having one lone taco rock was a lot like eating one taco, or worse yet, Chinese food; you get hungry again fast. You must have more.

Since Facebook has a page designated to the Drive, I learned about a lady named Liz who paints the coolest rocks. I marveled that people would use their talents to bless people they likely would never meet, so my fascination grew and grew. Soon rock painters/hiders were springing up on the Facebook page displaying the rocks they would be hiding. I started trying to figure out the best times to go to the drive and add to my taco rock. But my goal was to find a Liz rock.

Over the summer weeks, not every time I went but often, I found a rock or two while on the drive. (In case you’re wondering, you can get out of your car. There are pull-outs and other trails and areas to observe nature and there is signage to identify the local flora and fauna.) I have rock art by several local birding/painting enthusiasts.

I wished I could paint a rock and leave it for someone to find. My friend, Peggy, even suggested that I could. I thought Peggy knew me better! But I did want to leave something for someone – to give back a little. The only thing I have created besides my four children, who clearly wouldn’t stand for being left out on the shores of Lake Apopka, is my children’s book, ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE MAGIC. Florida is more than a little humid with chances of extreme downpours, so it was foolish to leave a book out there. I had to create a plan.

I carried a couple of my books in the car with me, but in the summer months, I barely encountered any other people much less children. Then one day I saw on Facebook that my favorite artist, Liz, was meeting another artist, Lee, at a particular time and spot on the drive. Game on!

Bob and I, along with my sister, headed out to hopefully intercept that meeting. I had three of my books with me. Everything seemed against us getting to that meeting on time. The drive-through at McDonald’s was particularly slow and I’ll admit it – I complained. I was anxious. I was ridiculous. My sweet sister mentioned that maybe the delay would work for us in God’s timing. She was right.

We pulled in just in time to find Liz and Lee. Bob slowed the car down to about 8 mph and I jumped out before Lee could leave. I was so excited to meet him and when I gave him a book, he gave me and my sister magnets that he had made from his extraordinary photographs. How fun!

Meanwhile, Bob and my sister were talking to Liz. I was so happy to meet her; and I gave her a book as well, thanking her for how giving she is and for the fun that she and others have added to an already wonderful drive. She was so sweet and then she did the unimaginable – she gave my sister and me a rock each. Well, mine was a bluebird painted on a wooden egg. I love it. My goal of having a Liz creation was met and then some!

“The bluebird carries the sky on his back.” Henry David Thoreau

Farther down the road, we met a lady named Patty, who, you guessed it, also paints rocks. I was glad I brought three books.

These two are among my favorites which were found by people who were doing the drive with me. The alligator is the rock Liz gave to my sister.

This is a sample of my collection.

I have rehidden a few and might do a few more. I hear of people re-hiding them to spread out the blessing. I told Bob that I was so happy to have a Liz rock. If I find another one, well then, I’ll have two! Sharing only goes so far!

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by Bonnie Anderson on September 30, 2021  •  Permalink
Posted in Always Look for the Magic, Art, Birding, Florida Living, People that I Meet
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on September 30, 2021

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2021/09/30/my-life-on-the-rocks/

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