“I never drink anything stronger than gin before breakfast.”

.
Yesterday I trotted off to the Westin Hotel here in Tampa to have breakfast with friends, Gaby and her lovely daughter Brenda. Gaby is from Mexico but lives here in Tampa, while Brenda is visiting from Martinique. She heads back to Paris where she normally resides next year. How very exotic. Just being around someone who lives in Paris brings back all the happy memories of being there.

The View

Brenda, Matthias, Gaby

Brenda's son was with us, what a cutie he is. All the ladies were swooning over him. Just wait until he grows up and speaks with a French accent!

Brekky, average for what it cost

The Westin was such a let down. Last time we went to the Marriot on Harbour Island and it was magnificent. This hotel was more than a tad...blah. No buffet even. The outrage.

While on the subject of food, which my blog seems to gravitate towards an awful lot, A British food store was visited today. They had lots of goodies, even Vegemite. I'm still hankering for an Aussie style sausage which cannot be found over here. Some pasties were bought at exhorbitant cost and a Shepherd's pie.

Pasties

If only there were Fergusson Plarre stores in Tampa. How happy a Boston bun would make me right now.
.

Title quote, W.C Fields

The Cane Toad invasion grows in strengh, they are going to take over Tampa!

.
High Drama here in Tampa. The cane toads have discovered the food I put out for the feral cats and are eating it all. Not only are my precious feral kitties being robbed of their dinner, the hideous toads are growing fatter and bigger from their stolen fare.

I don't mind the Opossums having some, am quite happy when Dame Judi Dench the racoon pops over for a spot of tucker on the front porch. They are all God's creatures, great and small as James Herriot would say. One must make clear though, that the hand of friendship does not extend to the evil cane toad

.My evening was spent out the front chasing the bigger one and three smaller ones away from the kitty food with a broom, looking like a lunatic. I wacked one pretty hard, managed to squish another. It's a really awful business, but I simply will not allow them to make Robert Mugabe go hungry, or his urchin mate, Danny Quinn.

Die Cane Toads, DIE!
.

Waterworld

.

We had heavy rains all day in Tampa today, causing the street in front of my house to flood.

The ditch next the house was overflowing. In Florida that can mean aligators, hope none show up and eat my cats, but some of those bothersome neighbourhood kids won't be missed. By me at least.

Ditch next to my house.

Crazy ADD boy from up the street was frolicking in the dirty water despite being yelled at and called home. No one came out to get him though, amazing. He was running around unfettered in the street diving into the water on the road and in the ditch, what a filthy little urchin. Some kids just need to be medicated!

My neighbour and his kids on the ATV, they can't be seen behind the wall of water. That's ADD boy in front.


The house can now go on the market as waterfront property, literally. The neighbours were carousing up and down the street on their ATV, what a lot of fun, I need to get one of those.

The Colonel making a splash!

Sabrina the Wunderdog.

.

I've never met an animal I didn't like - Andy Warhol.

The past few days the Colonel and I have been dog sitting a lovely black lab, Sabrina the Wunderdog. The owners were called away suddenly to a funeral in Atlanta.

Sabrina had spent some time at a kennel recently and it was not a happy event. She didn't eat and almost ran over her owner in her desperation to get out of the canine stalag. Taking her back was a sorry option. I am really happy we could help out with her accomodations. She was spoiled rotten at Palazzo Chichi, such as a dignified lady of ripe old age deserves.
.

Apart from being the most gorgeous and loveable dog, Sabrina is a certified cat hater. My poor cats have been terrorised and traumatised to the edge of reason. The seemingly docile animal turns into a vicious beast upon hearing the pitty patter of dainty, or not so dainty kitty feet. I had to throw myself around Sabrina's neck to save my beloved Runty from being pounced upon and turned into a feline appetizer.

Romeo is quite the pork chop express, to add to his misfortunes, he is a ginger. Life has been tough for the poor little tacker. Him ever having the speed to run past and squeeze his rotund butt through the kitty door in less time than it takes a hunting dog to swallow him whole, is doubtful. It was only by Sabrina's good graces that he was able to squeeze his portly ginger self out before she took a chomp.

.

Runty, Tiger, (Runty's mum) and Romeo. All clearly built for comfort, not speed.

In this humid, disgusting Florida heat I have been constantly traipsing the neighbourhood with Sabrina, keeping her busy and not too bored. It sounds like I want a medal for walking a dog, but all things considered, that is not such a preposterous idea. I must add that I have loved being out walking a dog again, I find it so agreeable to have a canine companion.

.

Apart from the obvious weather issues, there are few footpaths here which make walking one's dog a less than simple task. Tampa is a city, it's not the middle of the country, it's built up and yet there are mostly no pavements. I have to walk on the road, ever vigilant for cars and the carcass's of flattened cane toads. It's too hot to wear runners so I wear my faithful birkenstocks and they do little to keep wet parts of squashed toad from seeping between one's toes!

When cars do approach I have to walk up onto the grass and avoid the cane toads, get my feet wet, receive multiple mozzie bites as this place is swarming with them and so on. Surely my long suffering reader, you get the picture.

.

I spent a year living in Werribee. Yes I hear you gasp, the S*&t farm town, bogan epicentre of the known universe, and guess what? There were footpaths everywhere. Will some one please explain to a bewildered Countess why there is a lack of cement for those of us who would like to 'pound the pavement'? Why those ferals in Werribee, too drunk to walk in a straight line, need perfect pavement when decent folk from respectable families must walk all over the front lawns of others just to give the dog's legs a stretch, is beyond me.

.

We don't even have many, if any drains here, which may be good as I have been warned to keep the dog away from them. Why? I so innocently asked, 'Because Aligators come up from them and get the dogs'. Charming! Just another quaint little detail about my adopted land that makes me quiver with joy at my decision to move here.

While there are no drains, there are ditches. They run along next to the houses, fill up with water which may contain the odd aligator, but mostly serve as breeding grounds for mozzies. I believe that the mosquito is the state bird of Florida, or it should be. They are everywhere and I can't walk outside these days without getting covered in nasty, itchy bites. I hate it.

Ditch, such as the one running alongside my house, A perfect mosquito breeding place.

The first night Miss Brina was here I made up the spare bed and slept with her so she wouldn't be too disturbed and lonely away from her family. Last night I couldn't face the idea of getting back into the now dog fur infested sheets, so I turned the radio on to keep her company and gave her loads of cat toys to play with, or to use to pick up the scents she could hunt them down with the next day. She behaved with such ladylike aplomb, nary a whimper from her all night. Sabrina is a true Southern Belle.

Today there seems to be some kind of uneasy truce between dog and cats, so the Countess can cut back on the valium! A couple of times today small furry figures darted past. I thought a bloodbath would ensue only to see her staring but not even growling. What a champ.


Sabrina goes home tomorrow and I will miss her and her soft as velvet, midnight black fur. My cat's however will be really very happy to see the back of her tail.

Sabrina's diet while visiting consisted of a small portion of her own food, larger portion of cat food eaten surreptiously, Arby's popcorn chicken and a little bit of salami. She is on a diet but visiting here was kind of like being at a resort and no one loses weight while on holiday, well unless they get malaria, or the dengue or something like that.

Goodbye Sabrina, I will miss you.


.

Surprising Getaway.

Last night the Colonel surprised me with a trip to a resort. May is military appreciation month and the Sirata resort in St Petes Beach gave away free rooms for active military personal.

St Pete's beach is gorgeous, very much like Surfer's Paradise in Queensland. It's only about 40 minutes from our house but what a surprising adventure to go off to a resort for the night. I couldn't refuse. .

Stunning views from our rooms.

We had a lovely time, drove around the area looking at the beautiful homes and down to one of my favourite hotels, The Don Cesar. That place is purported to be haunted, but it is just beautiful.

We sometimes go there and sit in the bar and have drinks while listening to the grand piano being played. The restaurant is excellent but for one thing, those clowns won't serve me desert because I stupidly told them I was alergic to nuts. It turns out that the chef flat out refuses to give me desert just in case. They will only serve me ice-cream and I don't even like that. I can get icecream at any old shop, why go to a fancy restaurant for that?

.

We sat at the Rum Runners bar next to the pool in the evening watching the sunset. I wanted a cappucino, they don't have that, then I ordered a white coffee, ummm what the heck is that? I keep forgetting that certain words and phrases here are not used, just like at dinner when I tried to order a Sarsparilla forgetting that here it's called 'Root Beer'. I think Root beer sounds like something saucy so I hate saying it. I went on to ask for milk for coffee, oh no none of that. I had to use those creamer things, and I have to say, they are complete and utter crap and my coffee tasted like dirty water that someone had washed their sports socks in. Needless to say, it ended up in the bin.

Thanks for the free getaway Sirata!

Big Birds Revenge

.Blackadder, 1st series.

My hair woes continue. Why oh why is it impossible to find a decent hairdresser in Tampa?

I finally gave up on my guy at Saks 5th Ave. I had not been happy with him for a long time but he used Loreal colour, very rare here, and he managed to keep my hair from being yellow. My natural colour is fairly mousey but it throws out so much gold, having my hair bleached and turning a buttery yellow is my worst hair problem.

He did however manage to bleach the living daylights out of my hair, to the point where it was breaking off and leaving me with a couple of centimetre long fringe, as well as centimetre long sides. The resulting haircut is what I called Blackadders revenge.

.

A haircut Blackadder would be proud of.

To make things worse, I went in and asked him to colour my hair a little darker so as to avoid more damage. His inexplicable solution was to use a non bleach lift on the roots. What the??? This resulted in a very bright coppery brown line around my head. No attempt was made to blend the new colour in with the old, there was a bright copper band surrounded by very white hair. UGLY.

I decided I had suffered enough and found a new hairdresser who also uses Loreal. I have just come home and my hair is yellow. Canary yellow. My new colour is called Big Bird's Revenge, it's neon. I cannot believe my bad luck with hairdressers since moving here. I am not sure if the yellow is the result of trying to bleach that copper band or not. I understand if the copper band is making things difficult, but if the roots are yellow too then I am in trouble. I may even have to go back to the guy at Saks because at least I was able to get a decent colour, most of the time anyway.

Not so Mellow Yellow.

I was really happy with my hair colour in Australia, since I have been here my hair has done nothing but make me miserable. Oh America......why.....why....

God Save the Queen, and all her fabulous frocks.

.

I am a great fan of Royalty, especially the British Monarchs. All the pomp and pageantry, the crown jewels, the stately palaces, The Queen and her tireless dedication to her Kingdom.

The frocks and tiara's are always a sumptuous visual feast. No one captured the glamour better than the late and contraversial, Princess of Wales.

Today I attended an exhibition in Tampa that displayed several of the dresses and outfits worn by Diana. A collector here had purchased them at auction, not long before Diana's untimely death. There was also an extensive collection of memorabilia, including hand written notes by the Princess.

.

During the Royal visit Downunder I had the good fortune to be looked at and waved to by Diana. As the car carrying Charles, Di and baby William approach, other traffic was stopped. My mother had to pull our car over while they passed. I vividly remember Diana waving at us, we were the only car pulled over on that quiet backstreet.

While I applaud Diana's being down to earth and her charity work, I think the whole People's Princess moniker gets a little bit cheesy. She deserves great praise for her work in charity and with AIDS patients, yet as a Royal she left a lot to be desired. Perhaps she was just a product of the modern age with it's obsession on the individual, the 'What about Me' factor. Queen Elizabeth is an outstanding example of service, having dedicated her entire life to her somewhat fickle subjects.

A piece of the Royal Wedding cake.

The whole divorce thing was unsavoury, the cries for attention by revealing private matters regarding the royal marriage, and even her own love affairs, to the press was distasteful. Diana was from the Spencer family, a very old lineage, heirs to Althorp mannor with the most magnificent Library this side of ancient Alexandria. As a Spencer, Diana was a true blue blood and in this writer's opinion, should have known what the Royalty caper is all about. 'Suck it up buttercup' is the advice I would have given her.

The woman who almost bought down the Monarchy did have some lovely frocks, even if she were a bit of a dizzy cow.