The Floridian

Tonight we spend another night in Homestead, Florida. Frank’s new hubs have been ordered from Sportsmobile. They are slated for arrival tomorrow morning, at which time Armstrong Ford will move like lightening to get them installed and get us out of here. We’ve become like family and just like family sometimes can be, they’ll be glad to see us leave.

Palm Tree Paradise

We’ve spent the last two nights shuttling between our hotel room at the Floridian and the Starbucks across the street. Though not luxurious with its orange and green tropical motif, the Floridian has all the required attributes for a hotel:  stone’s throw from a Starbucks, easy walking distance to groceries, fridge in the room, kitty corner to the Ford shop, and cheap.  After bleeding money for 2 weeks, cheap is very welcome.

Room 234 at the Floridian Hotel

We’re ready to head south.  Tomorrow the temperatures continue their slow creep towards 70 degrees. It’s not a moment too soon.  This morning I went to turn on the heat in the room.

“What’s that smell?” Tim asked.

A trickle of smoke came out of the heater as 5 years of unburned dust smoldered in the rarely used unit.  The trickle built momentum.  We decided that though it was probably fine – just some dust – we didn’t have a fire extinguisher if things got out of hand, so we better turn it off.

Instead we continue our southern Florida experience in sweatshirts and jeans, hoping for some good news tomorrow.  I see our luck turning!