Two-Days in the Boonies

The heat and humidity along the Bay had worn us thin. It seemed that just walking out to the shed would result in a necessary change of clothes when one returned. We decided to celebrate our 39th anniversary in the mountains instead since the days that followed were going to be busy with relatives and houseguests. We were able to book a room at the lodge for $69. Do we know how to celebrate or what? The problem was that the above view was the weather that greeted us when we drove to the mountain ridge for our first afternoon hike (we really sort of saunter). The clouds in the distance grumbled and growled finally bringing a small downpour our way as we hurried back to the car where we sat for a long while watching raindrops pelt the dusty windshield. (The danger on these high meadows is the ligntning...not so much the rain.)

We decided to drive down the mountain and found a place below the clouds that was just misting moisture and not threatening a full-fledged shower, and found this old road that was a perfect hiking trail. No slipping or sliding along muddy rocky trails. (This was the area where I photographed the red salamander which I will post about later on my other blog.)

We also traveled another nice trail that followed the Blackwater River just outside of Davis, West Virginia. They have a spillway dam and camping areas and several new trails. The goldenrod was in full bloom reminding us that all of those great autumn colors were soon to be revealed as fall was hovering nearby.

Some trails are marked and others just become intriguing green paths that make you wish you had all the time in the world to wander them and see what new vistas will reward you.

This trail might have been an ATV trail until the ATV's were banned. (Thank God or the powers that be, says Tabor under her breath.) The recent rains made it a challenge to follow. When deciding where to place ones' foot there was either sloppy wet mud or boggy Muskeg on either side. I knew that my new waterproof hiking boots were worth the money when my feet stayed dry and hubby ended up with very wet socks.

The trail formed a loop just as we came to a beaver pond in the sunken marsh at the foot of a large meadow we had been edging. Most of one side of the marsh was wreathed in brown cattails as warnings about the wetness of the soil. We saw two brown hawks in the distance and even though we were very careful and quiet we scared a few pin-tail ducks at the far edge of the pond. We wandered down to the Muskeg edge and saw the remains of a very small deer that had perhaps been a wolf's or fox's dinner. I can visualize the predator enjoying a nice dinner as he looked over the quiet pond.


We moved on up to the side of the hill and set out our lunch with the million dollar view of the pond in the distance on one side and the meadow on the other. We shared cheese, salami and crackers. Cut into juicy fresh Asian pears and peeled some Clementine oranges and then topped the meal off with cookies and dried fruit and nuts. Best restaurant we have eaten in all year! Although there were deer flies about, none bothered us while we recuperated our energy on the fern bed in the shade of the trees.

We encountered even more new trails for another visit on our drive out. They seem to be reaching for creative trail names! There are hundreds of hiking trails in the area. I think we will never be able to trek them all.

Long Hot Summer Stilllife

I am guessing the summer has been too long and too hot when the vegetables lean back on the counter and start smirking at you...click on photo to see what I mean. Sigh. Smart aleck cucumbers. I have my grandson visiting all week, so may be to busy to blog much.

For those charming readers who asked...

Yes, I finished going through the trunk but am still reading my college letters home. That is taking more time. I did sort them (anal retentive person that I am) into chronological order so that my parents responses are correctly interspersed with my letters. My mother is very much a "Gracie Allen" when she writes. I am sure that most people other than my generation have no idea what I am talking about, but you can Google or Bing this scatterbrained character.

You asked about the dinner which was a lucky win so I didn't try Grannies potato soup. Pescatarians eat only seafood protein. So:

Cucumber salad (sour cream and mint dressing)

Striped Bass in a tangy Thai marinade

Steamed crab with basil/butter/olive oil/ lime sauce for dipping

Corn on the cob

Toasted French baguette slices with either garlic butter or tangy roasted tomatoes and basil from the garden on top.

For dessert:

Vanilla ice cream with heated fresh peach slices in brown sugar and butter as a topping.

Hot tea/coffee to help finish the meal.

It was a cholesterol busters meal to die for.

Stingers and Zingers

These are the sea nettles of hot summer that like soft and gentle bubbles come floating in on the tides to all parts of the river from the Chesapeake Bay. They look so innocuous and carefree, but a brush against the little white tentacles will induce a fiery sting to tender skin. They come in tiny and large sizes; the one above being about 3 inches and they can reproduce when only 2.5 inches wide. They can grow as big as your open hand. They pump just below the surface of the water in search of food. This one was trapped in a tidal pond that was only a few inches deep. If the water is compromised (not healthy) the jelly fish are greater in numbers for some reason. The population is determined by both temperature and salinity but some scientists say the increase may be due to more nutrients being dumped from towns and cities running into the Bay to create more floating creatures to sting and eat. This year we do not have a huge population. If people are very concerned about these they can check the population movements for our area here.

My grandson was lying belly flat on the dock to look at some fish and crabs the other day and came away with a burn from some sea nettle slime that had landed on the deck falling from the crab traps placed there. He is a drama king but the sting must not have been all that bad, because after a wash with ammonia and a spray of Benadril he was A-OK and on to a new adventure.

I have been stung by jelly fish (NOT the Portuguese-Man-Of-War) in the South Pacific and while it really burned, the pain did not last long. Like many of the stinging/biting creatures of the world, the reputation sometimes exceeds the actuality.

P.S. Yes, this belongs on my 'other' blog but I have several posts waiting there already.

P.P.S. Logged into my email at 4:30 AM this morning when I found I could not pretend I was sleeping any longer and found a note from my step-nephew who is arriving for a weekend visit today with his girlfriend. The note said "I think I forgot to mention that A**** is a pescatarian." NOW he tells me?!!

Ronnie's Challenge

Ronnie has given all us boomers a challenge to post our ideas about the health care reform activities on the 20th of this month. I could have done some research on segments of one of the 5 proposed bills, the one that is 1,000 pages, which I have not read in full, and write about that, but I won't as I think selective cherry picking on these bills is a waste of time. I have read numerous articles analyzing the various issues and watched lots of television discussion. I have watched all the white elderly citizens screaming at their Congressmen in various town hall meetings over this reform on CNN. I do not see Hispanics, Blacks, or very many young people angry in this debate. (Well, except for the black woman who was escorted out of a meeting after being attacked by another white elderly man at Senator McCaskill's meeting in Missouri for having a poster of Rosa Parks.) I really don't think specific issues of this health care are the reason for the angry debate. The bills are not even finalized. I don't hear people screaming at their Congressional representatives because they do NOT have health care. I do not hear these angry people proposing alternatives or specifics in their arguments. I am frustrated that most of these arguments are inaccurate, non-specific, use inflammatory speech and are based on a mind-set that is not open to discussion. I keep getting the impression that they are very happy with their current health care status and don't really care about those who do not have health care insurance. "I've got mine and you lazy bums can figure out how to get yours." I challenge these same gray-haired angry people to refuse the government run Medicare program when they reach 65.

Part of this seems to me to be an issue of trust---and perhaps in some cases, race. It seems that those who trusted the government to listen in on their phone calls and monitor their computer activities without warrant, do not trust the same government to find a way to provide health insurance to their neighbors and fellow citizens who do not have it. I am guessing that they also completely trust the insurance paid middle-men who are now determining what level of health care they receive under their current private insurance. They compare the ideas for the reform program to a 'socialist' Russia and seem to ignore the success of the Canadian and European health care systems.

This also is an issue of money. I have heard it said that it has to do with conservative people not wanting poor people to get something for nothing, fearing that the expense for this service will have to come out of their pockets.

Well, I also feel that I will be paying for it in some way. My health care costs are going to go up with or without this reform. They will go up with the reform to pay for health care for those who cannot pay or go up to pay for the inefficiencies and huge profits in the industry while many citizens go without, in spite of what this administration says. My health expenses already are inflated by including emergency room care for those uninsured. There are no guarantees but I think this reform will slow down the increase in costs for everyone. There are no guarantees that the private sector will not drop those insured right now...but they are doing that every day already. I still support the reform as it is the beginning of a long-needed process to improve health care for the richest country in the world and provide a safety net for us all. I just wish these same citizens against the reform would have been screaming at their Congressmen regarding the huge budget deficits that were incurred several years ago.

All that I have to write in this post is colored by the fact that I am not panicked for myself because I am in the catbird seat. I have the same type of health care that the Congress has (which as an aside is a government contracted program with private industry). I worked for the government for the correct number of years as did my husband. We have access to a number of health care plans, we can change plans every January to suit our needs regardless of pre-existing health conditions, and we still get reasonably good coverage. My husband's prostate surgery, his spinal surgery, the birth of my children, my biopsy...all paid for. Since my retirement our premiums have increased, but are still affordable. I remember years ago when a friend on one of the government health care programs needed a lung transplant. The program he was enrolled in refused to cover the operation. He would die without it. That 'death squad' consisted of the health insurance company employee(s). He had to wait the three months until he could change plans in January, got a different insurance company, and went on to have his transplant, even though he had a pre-existing condition. The government contract protected him from being excluded because of pre-existing conditions. Even this government program has its problems but this ability to change plans was his life-saver.

I remember the terrible fear I carried daily when my son had reached 21, graduated from college and could no longer be covered on either our insurance or a student health care plan. His employer provided no coverage. He did not make enough money to pay for health care and pay for his apartment and pay for food. We dug deep and paid for his health insurance until he got coverage through employment a few years later. (I have no idea if this insurance would have worked had he needed it!) What if we couldn't have afforded that? What if he had been involved in an accident or contracted some serious health condition with no coverage? Many hard-working employed people and hard-working students live with that fear daily and without health care reform more and more working people will have no health care.

To those who do not want government health care reform, I ask how you would feel if you had a life style disease and those Americans who were healthy said you should pay a much higher premium because of your poor eating habits, lack of exercise, dangerous life-style activities or decision to live in a polluted area? Why should other Americans subsidize your carelessness and poor life-style? Kind of cruel and frightening isn't it?

To me it is a no-brainer that we need to begin to move in the direction of reform, but hard to convince those not using their brains, and instead, using the fear in their gut and the concern for their wallets to think. Being against something totally is the easy way out. Having to come up with ideas and suggestions to improve this reform and letting your Congressmen know takes far more work.

I Am a Surprise, My Grandaughter Seeps, and My Grandson...well!

My grandson told me the other day that his mother said he had three surprises waiting for him when he climbed into the car from pre-school and two of them were people. I looked at him with a questioning frown and said "People??" He looked up at me with those warm brown eyes and silly smile and said "Yes, you and Doc!" Doc is what he calls his grandfather and we had just arrived that evening to spend the night. I like being a surprise even better than being surprised.

My granddaughter woke up from her deep night's sleep the first morning after her visit and called out to me, "Neena!" "Neena!" When I opened the door to the room where she had been sleeping she peered at me through the mass of hair hanging in front of her eyes and smiled. "I seeping!" she said. (I think she meant sleeping, but she also seeps when she sleeps if you know what I mean.)

While racing through the Wal-Mart yesterday toward the toy section with my 4-year-old grandson to select the 'promised' toy, we had to go past the women's lingerie section. There at the end of the aisle was a 'full' display of padded bras in bright colors with ribbons and lace. Xman could not stop himself (what male can?) and running to the display actually pinched the middle of one bra cup and with a gleam in his eyes smiled up at me and said "Boobies!" (Remember, he is 4!) This precocious 4-year-old has already asked the anatomy questions on the difference between boys and girls to his pre-school teacher and she had to send a 'smiling' note home to the parents to explain that she had referred these anatomy questions to them. (My daughter is saving the note.)

Next weekend my step- nephew who is in his 20's is visiting us with his new girlfriend...whom his parents have not yet met. Therefore I have strict instructions to keep my eyes open and tell them everything as well as take pictures because they think the pictures on his Facebook page are not good enough! I must put on my spy cloak, I guess. At least I have not been requested to deal with anatomy answers or sleeping arrangements!

Thursday Thoughts #27 --- Litany of Too Much to Process

Apologizes ahead of time for this boring post...

1. I took my granddaughter from her mother on Thursday morning having been childless at this house in the woods for too long. This was both totally exhausting and totally exhilarating at the same time. Daughter was generous to give her up since Wednesday had been her first day home in some time.
2. My daughter was involved in a bankruptcy take-over in another state last week involving mucho dollars. She worked from 8:00 A.M. until late into the evening most days with only minutes for lunch and dinner. Since guards were stationed round the clock they wanted to finish their work as fast as possible. She was assisting with the computer forensics activities and was surprised to find how 'sloppy' or 'conniving' businesses are in tracking and evaluating their valuables. Some real valuables were found sitting under the computers!
3. My son was asked to go on national tour with another band last month and had the good sense to turn them down.
4. Overheard during an evening dinner party was a story about an argument between a representative from an insurance company talking to a very high level lawyer for the CIA regarding some argument over a settlement. Seems the CIA lawyer indicated that they could make this someone's life very miserable if they wanted without regard for the law. I know this 'someone' and he is just a young honest career dude trying to do his job. Didn't hear enough to know if it was under this administration or the one before. This scared me as I thought most of this stuff was over-hyped in movies.
5. Having both grandchildren over the weekend was also a more than full session which included rubber pool swimming, squirt gun fights, big pool swimming, kite flying, crab catching, baby fish catching, caterpillar watching, tomato picking and beaching.
6. My daughter was feeling sick Sunday morning and joked that maybe she was pregnant...I guess my reaction was too startling as she immediately suggested it was probably just eating too many fresh tomatoes and fresh sweet corn.
7. Found and removed the tiniest tick from my husband's back yesterday. It was the size of an 11 point period! This has been the very worst year ever! If one of us does not get Lyme's, it will be a miracle.
8. Continuing to read a rather slow, plodding book that I started last week and am wondering why I don't have the courage to put it down and start on something I might enjoy? (Actually I finally did put this book into the give-away box after reading to the very middle.)
9. My refrigerator/freezer is stuffed with leftover homemade blackberry/peach cobbler, a homemade clementine cake, a watermelon and some ice cream...too many ways to get fat(ter).
10. Two weekends ago I had house guests on Saturday and Sunday for boating and wine touring and barely got the house cleaned in time and the sheets changed for the next weekend's visitors.
11. This past weekend, as I wrote above, was a two-day / two-night visit from my daughter and her two little ones. Toys and crumbs are still being found everywhere.
12. This coming Friday I will prepare a dinner for a visiting business friend from Korea, and Sunday I will drive up to the city for my granddaughter's second birthday party and that is the easiest of the busy weekends coming up.
13. I invited someone down to the house for a visit soon and then found that I am booked solid with stuff until the third week in September. Why don't I just keep my big mouth shut?
14. In spite of this post, I really am NOT the social butterfly that it seems. Looking forward to 10 days of alone time when hubby takes off for Hawaii next month.

The Good, the Bad and The Surprises

I am not an idiot. The fact that I feel compelled to write that, maybe leaves the statement open to some debate. I knew full well when I began once again the challenging landscaping/gardening journey that it was going to be a jazz dance...an exhausting jazz dance with my poor choreography. I had mentioned the Perennial Plant dance that takes place in the fall when you find some plants overtaking an area, or needing more sun, or better drainage or a better contrasting plant or just a better place to florish. I have about 10 15 plants that I will need to move this fall. I planted some too close to the house as a temporary space before the deer fence went up. Some are in deep shade that I did not expect and others have already outgrown their space.

The good this year was the lovely purple flox that has bloomed for more than a month, the chaste bush that has already grown the size of a small tree and was in full bloom, the zinnias that have large and colorful blooms, the Celosia which had every single seed germinate until I was sticking plants in pots, in the ground and everywhere.

My chaste plant.

Celosia attracting lots of pollinators.

Good old fashioned zinnias.

A nice pink zinnia just begging to be put in a bouquet.

Even the green zinnia are attractive.

The surprise issue here is that I never realized Celosia grew four feet high! Sort of overpowers that little red pot doesn't it?

The same was true of the zinnias on the east side of the house. In deep shade a good part of the day, they grew over four feet in the 2 foot high raised bed. One has to be a basketball player to really appreciate their beauty.

This was a little surprise as it was supposed to be a very different coneflower when I bought it! The photo on the pot looked like a dahlia...a very new and exciting form and PINK! Since I cannot find the plant I thought I bought on the Internet, maybe it doesn't exist. Something is eating the leaves of this plant, so it is soon to not exist as well!

The surprise above is that the photo was taken the last week of July with temps breaking the 90's and the purple pansies were still blooming in this pot. It is on the north side of the house in mostly shade.

Unfortunately I had to post one ugly...my poor sunflowers. 30 plants all chewed or knocked down and only two blossoms trying to put on a show as they lay flat against the earth. Of course, there was NOT a lot of sun and there was lots of rabbits, ground hogs, etc.

Interregnum

A lovely sunset last night on the river

I have been thinking much more lately of my parents. I try not to miss that they are gone and that I no longer have time to build a closer relationship with them. Perhaps it is the pictures of my childhood that I have retrieved that is pushing me on this backward journey. In several photos my mother is younger than I am today...that grabs my mind and heart and makes me a little dizzy. She looks fresh and happy. I do not remember her that way. I know that if she was in front of me right now we would get off on one of those stilted conversations where she makes me feel less than I am. One of those conversations where she is the grand martyr and I am the self-centered daughter. I love(d) her, but she could be an energy sump to be with. I am trying to accept the flow of the river of time. If I dwell too long I make myself sad and that doesn't accomplish anything.

There is a common idea that if we could go back in time we might better appreciate the moments with the wisdom we have since gained. Well, I realize that is a fallacy. I am watching my grandchildren grow and change like cornstalks in the field after a rain. I am aware of the moments when I am with them and I appreciate every second, but time still rushes on by and they still are growing and changing faster than I can deeply grasp. It is not about wisdom gained with experience. It is about realizing that we cannot slow down time. We cannot pace our lives as we wish. Having time to reflect and understand only helps a little. We still will make mistakes and have regrets no matter how wise we have become.

Life is like a river. It rushes dangerously fast in some places, then goes slowly and peacefully (or dully) in others. We are just along for the ride and try though we might, we miss much stuff in communication and relationships and understanding how others are truly feeling. We try to put ourselves in their place, but the river quickly pushes us on to somewhere else and we must process all over again that new color in the water and that new ripple.

I guess that there are people who know this truth most of their life. They do not waste time second guessing a decision or a relationship. But, I think for most of us, it is a crazy journey and we cannot really see the destination as well as we would like. It is a far way ahead and it will be whatever it is when we get there. We hope that we will understand it and recognize its meaning, and find it is something we can accept but hope is all we get at this turn in the river.

The Hotness Factor

Still tripping over my feet on that Memory Lane which has become somewhat overgrown with a large tangle of aging vines. When you are hot, you are hot. When you're not, you're clearly not. What more can I say? I rarely would consider turning back the clock on my life, but if I could have this day over again I think I would. I really look so 'full of it' in this photo. It was a perfect fall day, I had a brand new car (yes, that is an actual car and not a toy) and freedom. I am sure that I felt I had the world by a string and could wrap it around my finger. Innocence is sometimes too underrated.

Happy Trails to You

On the last day of my recent hiking trip to West Virginia, one of my hiking shoes decided to throw off the rubber sole plate. My whole fromt foot was just flapping in the breeze and this resulted in us having to visit the nearby drugstore in that famous little mountain town that I wrote about earlier and to purchase that all purpose repair tool known as duct tape. Hubby wrapped my foot sturdily for our final day of hiking before heading home. The temporary repair worked very well. These hiking shoes should have been replaced a number of years ago as the cushioning had long since been pummeled. I remember the day that I bought them, about 15 years ago, in an REI store in Denver.

We had gone to visit my relatives outside Boulder and we were planning on doing a little hiking in the Rocky Mountains. My brothers and sister who hiked all the time were amazed that I was planning on hiking in tennis shoes. It was decided by my relatives and husband that I finally needed a REAL pair of hiking shoes. You may be surprised at how nervous I was trying on hiking shoes. I felt like an impostor. These fancy shoes were for people who climbed mountains and straddled ridges and skirted glaciers. All I did was follow cleared mountain trails and stumble across meadows. I felt guilty spending so much money on something I only used a dozen times a year. REI had a ramp that you were supposed to walk up and down rather fast to see if the shoes were comfortable in the toe area. I self-consciously pretended I was testing each of the various sizes and finally bought the pair of shoes above.

They were the most comfortable shoes I owned, and after the first few hikes I regretted not putting out the money earlier.

Upon returning from our West Virginia trip the next weekend we drove up into the city and stopped at the REI store there and purchased a new pair of hiking boots. This time it was just like buying a pair of shoes. I put on the cushioned hiking socks I had tucked in my purse, put on various pairs of shoes and walked all over the store in them. I was not self-conscious at all. and actually focused on feel and comfort. I purchased the "cute" little silver blue trimmed shoes above and I am now looking forward to another 15 years of hiking. I think they do say the legs are the last to go, and I am counting on that.

Junk in the Trunk---Part II

Finding some uninterrupted afternoon time I sat and opened the scrapbooks and as requested took some photos for the many, many readers and lurkers of my blog. Hang in there, this should be really, REALLY interesting...!

I so 'fondly' remember putting together this 'comprehensive' manual for our basketball coach which was ultimately for the team that year. He 'contracted' with our Business Education teacher to have me and my best friend be his personal secretaries. He corrected every period and we worked for days changing many details! I can guarantee that he probably had to take remedial English in college and was trying to get even in some weird way. This would have had questionable shades of sexual discrimination today. At least they should have admitted that no one on the basketball team knew English and therefore, could not read it (How's that for discrimination?).

It appears from this memento that, during High School, I went to the State Convention for the Future Homemakers of America. This conference did not appear to have made any impression as I cannot remember much of it at all! I also do not think I am an exceptional homemaker as a result, either.

This is our hometown newspaper with an article on the newest members of National Honor Society. Wow...were we a little dorky, or what? Here we stand waiting to be served tea by our club faculty sponsor. She was like a little Ms. Marple. (Names have been redacted to protect those still serving jail sentences.)

While in High School I was in a fashion show. I DO remember this because I am such a nut for parading around in new clothes. We got to wear clothes borrowed from the dress stores in the nearby larger town. As you may recall, I came from a family that watched money closely and I rarely got to wear new clothes. This was a treat for a poor farm girl.

This is the important notice of my college tuition waiver, which had I not received, I may not have gone to college.

This is my Freshman Beanie...Yes we actually wore them for one whole day. What a crock!

This is a homemade record of something...what I don't know. Now I have to find a turntable! Maybe it was something from debate club?

When I turned 21 during my senior of year of college, one of the my former High School upper classmen friends, a really nice guy that I had no interest in, invited me to the Playboy club in Denver for drinks to celebrate. (I hope he didn't pay for membership just for me!) It was an awkward and cool and weird experience. I was so naive that I didn't question why someone would be serving me drinks in a rabbit costume with overflowing mammary glands. I cannot tell you how absolutely sophisticated I felt, as if I was in some Doris Day movie. I am sure that I looked like a 14-year-old Doris Day as well! ( And, no, I didn't do anything non-Doris Day at the end of the evening.)

Next on my memory journey is a bunch of letters that I continue to pour over! Enough about me, now, what about all of you?

The Junk Trunk Revealed---Part I

It seems that readers of my prior post are somewhat masochistic...so lets take a tour of this old trunk.

I opened the heavy trunk lid and one of the hinges broke away as that side of the lid slid to the floor. Inside everything was dusty from bits of yellowed paper and most of the items in a jumble. So much for how well my brother (or his wife!) packed the trunk. This vase above (what used to be a vase) has absolutely no memory for me. Was it a gift I bought my mother on my travels? Was it some stupid trinket I bought for myself? This vase had never been used. So much for the hope for treasure.

My life was absolutely so filled with very important events that I had to make a huge and comprehensive scrapbook of all my high school activities followed by another thick tome of all the cool stuff I did in college. These thick scrapbooks are filled with mostly cocktail napkins, theater tickets, theater programs, old ribbons, newspaper clippings, my band letter(s) and a very few awards as well...nothing that even my children would find of interest today. There was also a JFK scrapbook filled with newspaper clippings.

My music tastes were somewhat prosaic, but I had no money and so each album was purchased with care. I also had some Frank Sinatra albums and an entire collection of Shakespeare productions on record (OMG, what a bore was I?), but where those went I surely don't know. Does anyone remember the singer Claudine Longet and that terrible murder in Aspen?

Above is the dress I wore to my Senior Prom. I am so surprised at how thin I was. I was actually elected "Queen" of the prom that year. Before you get impressed (ha!) my graduating class was under 25 students and only half of those were girls. I do think this Jacqueline Kennedy style of dress has stood the test of time. If I was still that thin ( yeah, big dreamer) and still had somewhere formal to go, I think would wear it.

Now I am going to sit down and open these scrapbooks...more to follow. That ought to be somewhat interesting.

Treasure Chest

I left my childhood home heading to Hawaii first and then on across the Pacific years later, so many years ago, that many of the memories sadly have faded to misty gray. It was a farmhouse at the edge of town on the 'other' side of the railroad tracks. I could walk to school but lived just far enough to catch the school bus which stopped at the turn by my driveway. The only kid that owned a car was the Doctor's son. In those days it was not an uncool thing to ride the school bus. That was the time you had to visit and gossip and I luckily got on the bus at the beginning of the route. My friend from the farm nearby would put on all her make-up on the bus because her father was a very religious conservative. The population of the town was under 2000 which did not seem at all small to me when I lived there because my experiences were also small and I knew almost everyone in town.

My parents have since passed and the farm was sold a few years ago. I probably will not go back that way again as the few friends I have stayed in touch with have moved far away or to nearby towns. A very sad thought, something that probably happens to most of us if we are blessed to live past our usefulness.

I had moved 99% of my 'things' (invaluable stuff ya' know) from my parents' home except for an old camel-back trunk that I had purchased at the Salvation Army store for $5 when I was about 13. I always had BIG plans to restore it, restoration which was needed as can be seen from the photo above, but I never did. (Admittedly it did not have all that white paint on it when I bought it...I think since my brother is in construction he can take credit for that.) I kept it at the back of my closet in the old farmhouse and put inside school annuals, record albums, letters, prom dresses, scrapbooks, etc. For years after I returned to the States I kept forgetting to make the arrangements to have it shipped to where I lived. The trunk was moved to my brother's house when the farm was sold.

Last week it came via UPS wrapped in plain plastic and had been left outside next to the deer fence gate as we had gone shopping for the day. I had been planning on getting it crated, but I find that it weighed more than 70 pounds with all the junk inside. I have not asked my brother how much it cost to send, so I will find that out and send him a nice fat check. We struggled to load the monster into the back of the car and got it as far as the garage floor where it has sat since. I am finally going to open it up today (although I am fighting a sore throat from germs generously shared by my grandson) and see what treasures are tucked inside.

After grabbing another tissue and pouring a glass of wine, I will begin this good memory trip or maybe it will be just an emotional one or maybe a surprising bore. After all, we are so much in love with our own history. My treasures, my junk, who knows...

The Signs of the Times

Each of these photos was taken in the good old USA except for the hot pepper sign which was taken in Puerto Rico and the 'stuff' sign from Nassau. Signs taken in other countries and written in English can be even more funny! I wish I had owned a digital camera in my travels years ago.

So this is how he got started! And even thus he has come so far.

Not sure but it looks like popsicles are doing the carving?

Cute sign outside a Puerto Rican restaurant. Those Latinos have such a good sense of humor.

I posted this photo a while back. This is outside an oyster shucking house and it means what it says. The ladies do not like being photographed in their working garb.

I don't think anyone would want to let their pet roam in this mine field. (click to enlarge)

Posted this photo a while back and it was taken in Nassau. I just liked the fact that they admitted they sold stuff rather than treasures and souvenirs.

And what can I say about this one? Those in Florida know exactly what this means but for the rest of us...I like my Cubans hot...but pressed?

Rejuvenation

Retired and being in a rut can happen quite easily I think. It was time for us to try something challenging...at least challenging to two old f***s who spent most of their time avoiding anything edgy. We needed something to do that was out of the safety zone.

The directions on the website said that a table had to be reserved ahead of time if one expected to sit during the show(s), otherwise it was 'first come first served.' Reserving a table cost $10 per person and IF you sat at this table you had to order at least $10 worth of food per person...not counting drinks. We wanted to sit as close to the dance floor as possible with the best view and so put out the big bucks. The email said the doors opened at 7:00 PM and we needed to be there by 7:45 so they would not give away our 'reserved' table. They also said if you left your drink you may find your drink gets taken away...since 18 and 19 year-olds were allowed inside. So many rules I felt like I was back in college. I don't think college has any rules these days, does it? When we got there, the tickets I picked up at the will-call window said the doors did not open until 8:00 PM. Great, now we had an hour to kill. We went next door and ate some shrimp.

Finally 8:00 arrived. My son and a few band members came by to chat. We sat down and ordered our drinks and food and as the first band rocked out we put in our foam ear plugs that my son had gotten at the bar. He mentioned something about OSHA requiring them to be available...who knew? (I still had ringing in my ears when I got home though.)

The first band to play was a group of 20 somethings with a cultured nerdy look, glasses and button down shirts and big clunky shoes. Perhaps the look wasn't cultured as when the band called their fans down to the dance floor...the fans stood like cigar store Indians each with their style statement beer in one hand and facing the players. Not a toe tap or a head bob among them. One young lady about 290 pounds and 5 foot 8 inches had her arms around another young lady who couldn't have weighed more than 90 pounds even in wet clothes and who stood just over 4 feet tall. They seemed to like each other very much, but not enough to sway to the music. Another couple was a fawn like girl in a short skirt and black top and her cute and small boyfriend who kept his hand lightly on the small of her back with extreme self-consciousness. Boy did this take me back to that time of awkward sex that must have been a part of my life so long ago. The rest of the fans looked like computer repair folks.

As the band ended, the crowd had started to grow and the tables were filled by the second band. I looked around the room and guessed that the age level had increased by about two years. This band was trying very hard. They had a marketing guru for lead singer as he got tried to get the crowd to chant out the name of the theatre/bar as a gesture of thanks. I will give them credit for trying hard as he really seemed to be enjoying his role and at least their fans did a little head bobbing.

Finally my son's band was up to play. They were the coolest of course. The fans filled the floor. Only one cover was played and all the rest original --- lyrics and music mostly written and composed by my son. I am prejudiced, I know, but he is very talented. The fans were jumping and clapping and enjoying themselves without being intoxicated. One gal was there in a short little dress and my favorite style statement, cowboy boots. Her date, oddly, was in a suit and tie, but my daughter explained he had probably come straight from work. There were the traditional cleavage and bare waist girls and the guys in faded T-shirts. I knew a few as friends of my son from high school, and others looked familiar.

I looked around the room and at one side table sat a small group of parents, very straight looking with their short gray haircuts and conservative dress. (No, I was not looking at a mirror on the far wall!) I knew they must be parents of the members of the band that I didn't know. They looked a little pained as I guess this music was not quite their thing. It was like a Meet the Parents moment with the expression on their faces of trying hard to 'get this.'

We head-bobbed and toe-tapped and I didn't get back to my daughter's house until after midnight. It was exhausting but also rejuvenating as I hadn't hung with a cool crowd in years. I am playing that great music from the band's website as I write this.

PS: (If you are brave enough to listen go here: My favs are "Arsonist" and "Everybody Knows")

That Time of Year

It is that time of year when the river's bounty is providing us with seafood for enjoying during the cold winter months. My kitchen smells like either smoked fish or or steamed crabs...both of these are not necessarily good smells when you have them on and off during the day. But it is nice to see the freezer beginning to get full once again.

I was steaming yellow beans all last week and will be processing the pesto from our bolting basil this next week.

Tomatoes we are eating as fast as they come off the vine. The plum tomatoes this year are mealy tasting and disappointing. The tangerine tomatoes are prolific but not all that delicious. The sweet little grape tomatoes are as good as in the store, but even sweeter. There are a few other varieties ripening and not ready to pick.

My hair is damp from steam and hanging in my eyes and my apron looks like I lost a food war. Too busy these days to write anymore.

Snowballs in H***

Interesting plant in the photo above, no? Go ahead, take a guess and identify this common (rare in my garden) flower.

Those rare, fringy, skinny plants are ta-daa...marigolds. They are marigolds on a diet. You may have never seen skinny marigolds .

When beginning my garden this year, actually re-beginning after the building of the deer fence, I read somewhere that planting marigolds around roses will help to keep insect pests away. It appears that insects do not like marigolds. Actually I am not a big fan of marigolds myself. I know, I know. We are supposed to like all of nature's bounty and marigolds have their place in this world. I would put them way in the back of the flower garden and in the shade. Their flower is nice, but they have no fragrance and they have no drama for me, common since my childhood.

Anyway, I am all about biological controls and selected the "snowball" marigolds to stand as sentries around the delicate rose bushes. I bought a packet of seeds, planted them in the seed tray and nurtured them way back in early April. Most of them germinated. They are like cockroaches in that they are hearty and healthy. I then planted them carefully and symmetrically in front of and around my roses. Weeks of work and they were beginning to make a nice little hedge. They loved the soil and the limited sun and began to grow like weeds. I had done the germinating and planting in two week periods and the first group was ready to bloom. Lovely snow white blossoms even though they grow mostly in the shade. (I somehow did not grasp the true shade of these 30 foot trees on the side of my yard until this summer when I began serious work on flower beds.)

The second group of marigolds was planted two weeks later in the sunnier bed. They took to that bed like weeds, again. Then one morning I went out and saw what you see above. What the? What on earth eats marigolds? It had ignored my cone flowers, my roses, my statice...not my sunflowers, but everything eats my sunflowers.

Thus began the detective work. Fortunately I am a dyslexic sleeper and sometimes wake up at 2:00 AM, 3:00 AM, 4:00 AM and sometimes I even sleep in and get up at 7:00 AM. Each morning I saw nothing in the vicinity of my marigolds. The only active animal was a little rabbit eating the clover in my lawn...the same one I chased around the yard last week. I would let him sit there and munch away as he did a real job on the clover.

I had sprayed the marigolds with hot pepper oil and cut with vinegar and water but, what will come as no surprise to the avid gardener, one morning I saw bunny enjoying his salad of marigold leaves and his dessert of marigold flowers following the clover appetizer. He was mowing through the plants like it was his last supper, as maybe it should be, because I think we are moving him to new fields tomorrow.

Navigating a Narrow Mind

When she first looked out the back window at the river that sunny summer morning the view seemed strange. There was too much space. Then she realized that it/they were gone. The bright orange-red barge and its smaller brother tug boat were not there on the opposite side of the river tied together like prisoners with lifetime sentences against the opposite shore.

They had sat idle for years like fat retired whales, never moving and only occasionally groaning wildly in the wind or when the owner started up one of the rusty motors to do something unfathomable for an hour or so, making ugly raucous noises where large metal pipes were clanged or moved to another side of the barge. Most recently, as the deck to the barge owner's new house was completed, the monstrosities were moved to the nearby dock no longer blocking the owner's wife's view of the river.

In Tabor's mind they were like the war flags. Her side of the river was filled with fancy motor and sailboats and weekend children's rafts and paddle boats. The other side was filled with working gear, small fishing boats, and lawn BBQs and, of course, the two rusting whales. Oddly she felt guilty at her happiness in 'winning' the mind war that had resulted in the ugly monsters being removed. This couldn't have been the owner's livelihood because they were never used. They had become very expensive pieces of deteriorating junk. Surely the owner with his dark mustache and beer belly was just as glad as she that they had found a new home.

Yesterday, sitting on their new partially completed deck, they had waved as she floated by in her canoe. She waved back. Maybe this war was only in her mind.