Near the RV park and tucked away on an out-of-the-way road was an orange orchard where I could stock up on some of those unbelievably sweet Florida oranges I am always craving. The lovely people that run the orchard (above) were so enthusiastic--they kept plying me with samples from their favorite trees. I am sure they knew my addiction..."Come here little girl and try this luscious Valencia." They were diabolical--I may have to go back there and get another fix.
The RV park sat on this lovely little river. It was noted for being a good place for fishing.
Now I wonder why there isn't a national fishing license for vagabonds like me. I would love to catch my breakfast from time to time but I would have to buy the pole and all the gear, find a place to store it (no small matter these days) and then buy a license for each state I enter. It's kinda like my driver's registration renewal. It took 6 wks and a visit to a Florida police station to convince Arizona they should take my money without me driving all the way back there. But they warned me--"Just this once!" So I may have to find a new state of residence or go back to Arizona next winter when registration comes due. Hmm.. We'll see. So why not a National Registration for vagabonds like me?
Other headaches: No library card and my health and dental insurance are very limited while out-of-state. There are pluses since the last time my family and I traveled extensively--ATM cards, internet and cell phones. So some progress in the last 30 years.
While standing on the bank of that river I looked to my left and saw this...
These guys were just hanging around looking at the same view and totally unperturbed that I was standing there too.
What do you suppose he's thinking? "Hmm, sure glad I have a National Fishing License."
Imagine my surprise when I saw that pix of Barbara Whitmann; she is the spitting image of Ms Vera. Love your blog and pixs of your travels.
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