Settled in at our favorite beach in Florida on Sunday.

I had a great Father’s Day planned for David just a week early.

Well, I beat the crowds and I have no plans for a repeat performance next week.

Screw Hallmark…I make my own holidays.

I just pray it wasn’t a senior moment.

Back to the beach.

We always make the long walk to the private part of the beach. It’s not trespassing…you are simply requested to behave like a refined human not like a MAGA supporter.

The mansion stands in all its pomp and glory.

It has been the crown jewel on the beach for 35 years.

Initially, a wealthy Cuban family with 11 children built the home…my father did his best Inspector Gadget and unearthed the scoop decades ago.

I personally have never seen a human occupy its vastness until 2 years ago when I witnessed women standing alone on each of the six patios having an Arabian Nights moment in burqas and their hijab blowing in the breeze.

The middle section of the mansion features soaring glass windows and affords a view of an opulent chandelier.

I try to envision what the interior looks like and what goes on behind the   obscured windows.

I once crept up to the pool which is surrounded by a threatening gate, but Nancy Drew slithered away.

Upon arrival and departure a lonely limo silently stands guard outside of the elaborate iron gates with a dolphin statue spewing an arching cascade of water behind yet another impenetrable fortress encircling the circular drive.

This mystery distracts me from being on shark alert which is such a push/pull experience.

You are in warm, crystal clear water enjoying the moment and yet on red alert for flashes of fin.

Nancy Drew’s, The Case of The Hidden Window continues…now back to my break from reality and eventually heading home to continue piecing together my desecrated homestead.