I enjoy walking, but my husband is a certified, hard-core bicyclist. He wanted to hit 1000 miles by January 1st, so yesterday he pedaled off while I went for a hike. In North Village, he ran into some friends and invited them over for a soak.
Meanwhile, I was strolling around East Village, soaking up the last of the late afternoon sunshine. Unfortunately, my walk was somewhat marred by an annoying blast of air pollution. No, I don't mean the conventional, smoggy kind; as I passed a block of condo buildings, I heard a loud voice, apparently holding a phone conversation, with every other word being f*ck. I swear the speaker was trying to see just how many times he could use the f-word in one sentence. I don't know if he didn't realize how far the breeze can carry a voice or if he just didn't care. Or perhaps he knew full well what he was doing and enjoyed the potential for shocking passersby. It's not so bad for me, as an adult, but I cringing at the thought of the families with small children who were also out enjoying the perfect weather.
I'd like to believe that verbal air pollution is isolated, but alas, it appears to be becoming more pervasive. At the end of my walk, as I headed down Old Blush, a passel of cyclists whizzed by. They were using the f-word even more liberally than the previous potty mouth. The sad thing was, the group was made up of both adults and children, and it was the grown-ups who were swearing up a loud blue streak. What a wonderful example for their kids.
Oh well, even a few flying f*cks were not enough to spoil my mood. Basking in the balmy weather, realizing that it was my first New Year as a resident of Celebration, Florida, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment.
Back at home, my husband whipped up dinner while I checked the supply of snacks and Publix wine in anticipation of our friends' visit. They showed up around 9 p.m., and we poured a round of drinks and headed outside for a hot, soothing soak. The air had turned a bit chillier now that the sun had headed off west, but it was still fairly comfortable. It didn't matter anyway, since we'd soon be soaking in 99 degree water.
When we purchased our hot tub, we bought one of the largest models so there would be plenty of room for company. As the six of us piled in, I was glad that we had gotten a party-sized model. The water level rose quite high, but there was plenty of room for everyone to ensconce themselves in therapy seats. Our tub features six seats with various jet configurations, plus a seventh "cool-down seat" that sits up higher. Since each seat offers a different type of therapy (anything from back to shoulders to calves and even hands and feet), we switched off periodically so everyone could experience the fully variety of aquatic massages.
We had a great time soaking and chatting amidst the swirl of mist colored by the rainbow lights. Finally, the number of bodys overwhelmed the thermostat, and the temperature sneaked up from 99 to 102. We all crouched or sat on the edges of the tub to cool off before adjourning to the house. There, we watched South Park's "Woodland Critter Christmas" (perhaps the most warped Christmas special ever created...between a porcupine giving birth to the anti-Christ, lion cubs learning to perform abortions on Christmas Eve, and Santa Claus graphically blowing out the brains of cute little squirrels, bears, and bunny rabbits, it's not for the faint of heart). After a few equally warped episodes of "Robot Chicken" (an indescribable series of Claymation shorts from Cartoon Network's "Adult Swim"), we finally called it a night.
On Monday, Day Two of the New Year, I continued my resolve to exercise daily. Usually, I go out walking in the evening, but the weather was so perfect that it drew me out in the morning. I hiked downtown to Barnie's and rewarded myself with an iced Coffee Cooler before heading back to East Village.
Since there was no mail delivery, and many offices were cold, Monday still felt a bit like a holiday. But by Tuesday, I'll have to concede that the holiday weekend is officially over. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted, and I've got another holiday coming up soon: Our one-year anniversary of moving to Celebration full-time. I'm not sure how we'll celebrate yet, although driving Canyonero through an ice rink might be appropriate in memory of navigating the vicious Atlanta ice storm. I'm sure I'll think of something exciting by the time the big day rolls around.
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