The Circus Capital of the World: Sarasota, Florida

 

Florida! The perfect place for circuses to settle for winter!

 Sarasota was the Circus Capital of the World.  The animals that were part of the circus world needed the same care as any person. 

It was where the traveling circuses came to renew themselves and their performers to create. Some of those people decided it would be a fine place to live and retire.

Please be patient and read this if at all possible. It is extreme, using comparative phrases. It is what it is.     

Dr. Henry, veterinarian,  provided treatment for a wide assortment of animals, from big to small, mammals or birds or reptiles, owned by the population. 

The line to the office wound out the door and around to the parking lot, where a huge circus tent was set up for larger animal patients, as well as curious tourists from all countries. Their tickets were only $5. 

Assistants who worked with Dr. Henry could never be chicken hearted. Linda had been a high wire performer but retired to help in the vet's office. She was always as busy as a bee.

 As always, his patients were never the same usual animals. One owner Nancy, who had been acrobat, brought in Lady as happy as a dog with two tails could be. Dr. lanced the abscess under the anus carefully, avoiding the two tails that whipped around with happiness.

Next came Goofy Bill, who had been a clown, holding his cat Fluffy, whose claws got his tongue.  It wasn’t pleasant but Fluffy survived

The third owner was Lucy the Limber contortionist, with mildly sedated bison Melba, which was taken to the tent. There Melba had a whale of a time chasing other pets who didn't stay away from the heavy enclosure that held her. 

All the locals (who hung behind an iron bar security fence) were in the tent taking bets on who would be tossed in the air first. They were not terrified too often.

The fourth patient was a hybrid blend of a wolf and sheep, owned by the bearded lady, Princess . No details were given about the wolf in the sheep’s clothing creation or what brought it to the doctor. No one wanted to know.

And then, came the retired circus leader, Major Windy, with his pet elephant, Melody.  No one could ignore that elephant in the tent.  

By that time the whole town was crowded in the tent watching to see if the bison would chase the elephant.  How it ended, no one knew since they were all running for their lives.

At the end of the day as Dr. Henry closed the door he smiled. It had been another rewarding day. 

The alligator didn’t come but would tomorrow. He smiled. Oh how he loved his work.

Many thanks to any reader who managed to get through the story that came to be by using unusual sentence fragments. 

The italicized segments are from Elephant's Child (who sadly passed away this past year) who managed to find or any findable words to challenge bloggers in Blogger world.  Did you have ants in your pants, with each passing sentence? So silly to write that, but the whole post is like that.

I really enjoy challenges like these. These strangest words always provide lots of entertainment for me as the writer. 

 These are the gourmet from which to choose:

the elephant in the room;     as busy as a bee;     as happy as a dog with 2 tails; chicken hearted;     a wolf in sheep's clothing;     cat got your tongue;     having a whale of a time;     ants in your pants

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Only Ten More Days

Ten more days…only ten more days…Rosalie heard this phrase in her mind with each bus stop, with each passenger trundling off the bus and new passengers pulling themselves aboard. Her smile greeted them with each closing of the door.  Ten more days. 

After all these years, Rosalie had come to know their names, their lives with all the good and bad, and how they aged as she followed them wrinkle for wrinkle.  Now, retirement marched closely: Ten more days.

Then a new passenger, pretty young woman clutching her bag and books to her chest, leaped upon the steps.  Looking over her shoulder, pretty woman caught the glare of an angry man racing after the bus.  “You bitch!  Get yourself out here!”  He screamed her name, “Cassie!”

“You okay, baby?” Rosalie closed the door and pulled away from the bus stop, brakes and hydraulics singing. She saw in the mirror other passengers, faces creased and worried.  Young Woman looked up, face bruised and tears creasing.  “Cassie?”

No story needed.

“We all been there, Sweet Child…Bastard needs a good whuppin’…We keep you safe here, Baby…” Slowly a smile crept across Cassie’s face.

Day after day, Cassie raced faster and faster, the Bastard drawing closer and closer.  Day after day, the Bus Family held her, carried her to safety.

Then one day, on Day Ten, Bastard gripped Cassie’s arm, backhanding her soft face. 

The bus door opened, with Rosalie flying out, facing the Bastard nose to nose.  Following close behind, the Bus Family surrounded, encircling him tightly.   Rosalie lightly rested her hands on Cassie’s shoulders, whispering, “You tell him, girl.  You don’t need him anymore.  We’ll take you in.”

Words bottled up burst out and nailed the Bastard for every sin that was his.  The circle tightened when Cassie gave him a right cross.  “You get your crap outta my apartment before I get back…”

The Bus Family climbed back on, each one shoving or kicking him. We take care of our own…

Rosalie smiled inwardly. I’ll tell the company I’ll stay for a few more months….

This is a repost from 2015. Battered women need people to surround and protect them. Is there anyone you can think of one who needs your voice? October is the month named in honor of all abused women.

Time to Walk Away

Yes

Time comes in all lives when a person says “That’s enough…I’m done…”  Turning off the tractor, closing the grade book, handing over the keys and walking away.

Teacher friends of mine taught for forty years, forty years!  I think of their names and see them in my mind.  Some took that long desired cruise, some moved away from the desert climate, and some, oh those teachers, got sick.

One of my friends retired on a Friday and developed shingles on Monday.  If you do not know what shingles are, look it up.  You have no idea how AWFUL this is.

Another precious friend was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Since her breast cancer was genetic, she had a double mastectomy, chemo, radiation, and then developed uterine cancer.  A wonderful teacher, dear friend, and school board member, she died.

Enough.  There are many stories, good and bad.

Point of this post:

 

Recognize it is time to stop, to walk away.

You know when it is time, you can feel it.  Do not deny the hip, knee, or shoulder.  Do not ignore pain or sense of exhaustion.

A number of issues forced me to retire, a good ten years early.  And then the same issues that drove me during some mighty fine teaching years had followed me home.  An severe elbow injury and serious migraine inheritance---I try to ignore them when creating a project.

But, paying attention to the signs and pain taught me to stop, leave what I was doing, and walk away.

Let go

How about you?     

On Retirement

Retirement is an odd event.  This event provides:  The joy of sleeping without an alarm clock jolting one awake; the joy of relishing a hobby…skill…interest leisurely; and, the joy of finding the time to go on adventures.

Even so, retirement is an exhausting event, for so many reasons.

It requires emptying the desk and throwing away papers which make you wonder “what the heck what I thinking” before making a 3 pointer in the waste basket.  The desk and filing cabinet are cousins, only the filing cabinet is far more painful.  

The filing cabinet holds years of decisions, receipts, memos, letters written, ledgers, and just about anything which someone gave you and had no other place to go.

It is somewhat like purging one’s soul and alimentary system.

Then there is enduring the “Farewell Party” with its gaudy CostCo cake, party decorations, hugging people—some of whom you could not stand then or now, and walking out the door.  Your boxes, calendar, photos, memorabilia from the Hawaii vacation, and whatever have been packed await you.

After teaching for twenty years, this is exactly what I did.  

My almost-adult kids unloaded all the above, stacked the boxes on a sturdy shelf unit, and that was it.  Some boxes were actually personal, so they saw the light of day.

But the others?  They stayed silent and dusty for about fifteen years. 

Now, we are cleaning out the garage.  Those boxes are being pulled out one by one, opened with surprise.

One surprise was that I had been extremely organized back then.  Since my book collection was once a dozen full boxes holding excellent well-written student literature, it had been condensed to eight boxes, after giving away the rest to a nearby Christian school.

Some of the precious pieces from several boxes

Unit on bears (which also taught about Northwest Tribes, longitude and latitude) had been tucked away for some use later (what, I don’t know).  

Units on Ireland (literature, language, history, Irish student textbooks) neatly surrounded by lesson plans and cards of commonly used Gaelic words.

Units on…just about any State Framework curriculum requirement.

Is it painful? You bet.  

Is it amazing?  Oh yes.  

But most of all, it is liberating.  

It is closing a door on a wonderful twenty years where both the students and I learned so much.

I did keep a box or two—one to give to my granddaughters and one for me.

Ten More Days

Take the Bus

Ten more days…only ten more days…Rosalie heard this phrase in her mind with each bus stop, with each passenger trundling off the bus and new passengers pulling themselves aboard. Her smile greeted them with each closing of the door.  Ten more days.

After all these years, Rosalie had come to know their names, their lives with all the good and bad, and how they aged as she followed them wrinkle for wrinkle.  Now, retirement marched closely: Ten more days.

Source

Then a new passenger, pretty young woman clutching her bag and books to her chest, leaped upon the steps.  Looking over her shoulder, pretty woman caught the glare of an angry man racing after the bus.  “You bitch!  Get yourself out here!”  He screamed her name, “Cassie!”

“You okay, baby?” Rosalie closed the door and pulled away from the bus stop, brakes and hydraulics singing. She saw in the mirror other passengers, faces creased and worried.  Young Woman looked up, face bruised and tears creasing.  “Cassie?”

No story needed.

“We all been there, Sweet Child…Bastard needs a good whuppin’…We keep you safe here, Baby…” Slowly a smile crept across Cassie’s face.

Day after day, Cassie raced faster and faster, the Bastard drawing closer and closer.  Day after day, the Bus Family held her, carried her to safety.

Then one day, on Day Ten, Bastard gripped Cassie’s arm, backhanding her soft face. 

The bus door opened, with Rosalie flying out, facing the Bastard nose to nose.  Following close behind, the Bus Family surrounded, encircling him tightly.   Rosalie lightly rested her hands on Cassie’s shoulders, whispering, “You tell him, girl.  You don’t need him anymore.  We’ll take you in.”

Words bottled up burst out and nailed the Bastard for every sin that was his.  The circle tightened when Cassie gave him a right cross.  “You get your crap outta my apartment before I get back…”

The Bus Family climbed back on, each one shoving or kicking him. We take care of our own…

Rosalie smiled inwardly. I’ll tell the company I’ll stay for a few more months….

supporting heroes