It's official. My husband and I are snowbirds. For those who are not aware, a snowbird is an individual of approximately middle-age or older who leaves the ice-capped tundra of the north to descend upon the State of Florida for the winter. We arrive in flocks, following the lead bird down I-75, stopping only for fast food, gas, and visits to the lady's and gent's. As a unit, we all flip on our blinkers the moment we cross under the sign that says, "Welcome to the Sunshine State!" and don't turn them off until we head back north in the spring. You will recognize us by our plumage - thick, white sneakers worn with socks (even on the beach,) colorful shirts printed with palm trees, and cardigans draped over our shoulders in restaurants because "they keep the air conditioning turned up too high!" But, before one officially becomes a snowbird, one must, as with any journey, prepare.
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| "I've only got four months to pack! Better get on it!" |
