Oh, where have you been, Patty-girl, Patty-girl

Panama City Beach - Google images

 

               

 When Kid Billy and I used to drive to visit relatives in Florida, we made up this song, which delighted the youngster. “Oh, where have you been, Billy-boy, Billy-boy…Arkansas and Mississip, Alabam and Florida…” I thought of it driving home this past Sunday from Panama City Beach.
 

 Twenty-one stories high in a Wyndham building, we could see the sandy shore where gentle waves lapped incessantly. The small balcony barely held four seats and the round table. Straight down was the pool area.
 

I didn’t buy one book! In fact, only in the last up-scale place did I even touch one.I didn’t buy one shell. I have a gallon jardinière and a basket full from earlier visits to the panhandle. I didn’t buy one pear-motif piece, though some were gifts.
 

What did I buy? A blue, fish-shaped ginger grater—not to grate ginger, but to put on a stand and place on a shelf in my Blue Room-cum-office-cum Mom’s sunroom.
 

I bought a blue glass buoy replica wrapped in roping to hang from the pocket window in the same room. I bought a small blue-glass shell (oops, I did buy one piece shaped like a shell), and a 2-piece set of color drip candles for our New Year’s candle made many years ago in a wine bottle.
 

At Ritzy Rags, I bought a blue glass ring, a gold billfold and 2 serving spoons in my silverplate pattern. At a Catholic charity warehouse, I bought two small plant pots and a bunch of silk flowers “for my cemetery duties.”
 

We ate out several times—at the Saltwater Grill, described by Wyndham as a must-do activity. After an expensive repast, a perceived-by-one rude waitperson and a loud-mouthed man behind us, we discovered the asterisk beside the entry meant “date night” meaning “expensive.” However, the giant, wall-sized fish tank entertained us while we waited.
 

At Jimmy Buffet’s eatery, Margaritaville, fronting Pier Park, a sister and I shared a “volcano-shaped” plate of nachos. Others in our party of five ate fish, chicken and a cheeseburger. We shopped at ubiquitous boutiques along a couple of blocks of Pier Park. I’d have bought a shell-motif coffee mug, but the Chinese had made it non-microwaveable by inserting a metal ring at the base of the handle. The clerk hadn’t noticed, she said.
 

One night, we made arrangements with my son Gordon/wife Karen to each drive halfway between Pensacola and Panama City Beach and meet in Destin. Karen arranged the place and gave us directions. We ate at Acme’s Oyster Bar in Baytowne Wharf for a delightful but short visit. They would head down to Daytona for the car races later, and this was the only night we could get together.
 

Our last-night eat-out venue was Sweet Basil’s Bistro, an Italian food place. Several had lasagna; two of us had pizza; one, pasta Alfredo with Polish sausage and a meatball.
 

Other meals we took at “home” with food brought from Arkansas/Virginia.
 

Day activities besides shopping included the two “northern” women plus an Arkansas sister (not me) playing pickle ball twice, others of us walking the beach, sitting/reading on the beach, sitting on the balcony reading and napping (guess who?).
 

 

One day, two of us drove quite a ways west to the Eden Gardens state park and toured a mansion and grounds that included a 500- and 600-year-old Virginia live oak. We snacked on stuff we'd brought along, and each bought a camellia from their “nursery.”
 

Evening activities included watching the Olympics, playing cards, reading and scrapbooking (me).
 

 

All are now back in our respective homes unpacking, washing clothes.
 

And remembering.