That Frosty Time In Florida

 When I was young, the cold didn't bother me. Probably the most bone-chilling weather I'd  experienced was on a winter vacation in Florida. I only reluctantly agreed to the trip because, besides a toddler, we had a new baby, only 4 months old. But Dave then was still in his two-year-window of time and was getting restless for a change of scenery. George had invited him (us) to his winter home in Pinellas County, even providing housing during our trip. So we drove off, depositing daughter with my mother and infant son with his parents. 

When we arrived, Florida was experiencing bitter cold weather.  The orange groves were freezing, despite the heaters installed there. I don't recall any snow on the ground, but a heavy coating of frost. We arrived in the evening and headed for our accommodations, in a trailer park's unoccupied trailer. That was fine, but when the heat came on, the furnace started with a roar and then a series of rattles. I was already afraid something might happen that would leave our children orphans, so I insisted that Dave turn the furnace off, and he did so without argument; he had heard the groaning and grating  sounds as well.  It was cold but we survived.

  I had worn a lightweight winter jacket and next day on our  trip to Busch Gardens, I'd wished for a heavyweight parka, especially during the elevated ride around the park. Even the animals looked cold and lethargic, so I welcomed the arrival of evening. We were to meet for dinner with G. at a place designated by him. When we arrived there, to my surprise, he was seated with M., a former neighbor  and also  a source of transportation for myself and my sister during our college days. G. was a ladies' man, as they might have called it back in the day. No problem there.

  As it happened, the selection of the restaurant featured topless waitresses. That would not have been a problem either, only meant diverting my eyes when approached by servers. However, as luck would have it, our waitress, young and quite beautiful, had long red hair and bore a remarkable resemblance to my sister. I would have tried to ignore the likeness, but not G. who commented and guffawed all evening: "Looks like your sister., Does your sister work here? etc.etc."

 After several days, we drove toward home, stopping to pick up the baby in Kingston, who I imagined looked a little peeved at me, and then back to Valley Falls, where my mother told me M. , not yet 2 years old, had wondered if I was ever coming back to get her. 

Ah, the good old days.