Once in a while....

Our little hometown newspaper had a lovely photograph taken somewhere in Arizona showing a huge moon hanging above a ridge of pine trees. The photograph accompanied an explanation of the phrase "Once in a Blue Moon". Nowadays, it refers to the second full moon that occurs within a month but years ago it used to mean something that was a rare and infrequent event.

Thinking about infrequent happenings made me wander mentally into some of the things I hope only happen Once in a Blue Moon. Sort of in order of importance....

Piccpiper having an auto accident.

Terrorists targeting our shore any time.

Waking up to snow in Florida.

Starbucks running out of No Sugar Added Banana Bread.

Someone punching an elderly Wal-Mart Greeter. (Yes, that happened! Can you imagine?)

Starbucks running out of hot chocolate.

Ol-Doc getting a dumb old ticket.

Arson

Floods

Riots

And just about any other bad thing you can imagine happening to those you love.

The coming year is a fresh slate. Let's all write with a gentle hand and try and watch out for each other. Happy 2010! Now, go . . . write the year ahead in your checkbooks!

Just wanted a hamburger....

Okay, so T. and I went to church this morning and heard a worthy sermon from our pastor. After church we shook hands and gave hugs outside the building then got in our car and started back to the house. I thought about all that turkey sitting in the 'fridge and asked T. if he'd rather skip a sandwich at home and go to town for a BK special. He agreed and we pointed the car northerly. Once we crossed the I-75 overpass, we took a shortcut through some apartments that line both sides of the road and then hung a left at the first road to the left. It was kind of like following instructions to Neverland. First star to the right and straight on til - you see the blue flashing lights.

The State Troopers had set up a checkpoint. Too bad we didn't flee the area!
The transaction went kind of like:
Trooper at the driver side window: Your license, sir. Thank you.
Who owns the vehicle?
Your license ma'am. Thank you.
Let me see your proof of insurance.
(Me in the glovebox: rummage, rummage, RUMMAGE)
Trooper: Are you aware your decal is out of date?
No, ma'am... you do not have until the end of the birth month. It's due by your birthdate.
Did you find your insurance card, ma'am?
(Me in glovebox: RUMMAGE, RUMMAAAGE "Will this one do? It's only 2008.")
Trooper: No, ma'am, don't you have your current insurance card?
(Me: "I have one, I just don't seem to be able to locate it. It may be in my wallet in another purse.")
Trooper: Pull ahead on the grass, sir and wait right there.
(Me: "Oh, that can't be good!")
We pull ahead. We wait. I rummage the glovebox some more.

Trooper returns to the car after a delay of several minutes. This time he comes to my side of the car. T. notices this and rolls down the passenger window for me. Trooper explains that he has to give me a ticket for the out of date decal and says that he could also have cited me for not having my current insurance information on hand, since the car is in my name.

He hands me a standard size sheet of paper with the ticket imprint of both front and back sides generated from his vehicle's computer. I figure it's my tax dollars at work. He explains that because it was a non-moving violation, there will be no points on my license. I just have to pay the ticket cost of ninety-nine dollars. Okay, so it's not tax dollars but my fines at work.

He ends our little transaction by telling me I can request a court date if I want to contest the ticket and takes his leave with a two finger salute to the brim of his hat, wishing me a nice day.

Yeah. Right. At Burger King T. got a whopper. I got a grilled chicken salad. It tasted like cardboard and straw. The good news is - I have thirty days to pay!

Seventh Inning Stretch

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

In the 2009 timeline, we're at the word "and" that's nestled after Christmas but before the New Year. This is the week when we positively regret some of the holiday dining choices we've made while looking forward to the traditional New Years dinner of black-eye peas cooked with ham hocks. Maybe with cornbread and some greens to go with it. This meal is supposed to bring luck in the coming year and I suppose it is possible. We certainly never had any luck so bad as to cause us to blame the black-eyes. Knock wood.

One year a well loved Aunt persuaded us to finish a non-cornbread with black-eyes meal by eating twelve grapes, one by one. Each grape ingested, she said was going to bring us good luck for 1 month of the coming year. We downed all 12 little green grapes and commenced to have one of the worst years in memory. I mean, if it could go wrong, it did. Mother vowed never to allow this Aunt to use the grape tradition again. We'd go back to downing black-eye peas and cornbread. Never mess with a family tradition. Or a Southern one!

Year end is also a time to reflect on the past and plan for the future. One of the photographs from the past is of the grandchildren gathered to celebrate December 25th. I will include a copy for your reflection upon the importance of family and while that's happening, I will lie down on the couch and close my eyes for a short planning nap.

Sometimes a thing is what it is....

Coming home at night is sometimes a thing of beauty. I get out of work at 5PM and home as the sun is setting. Last night T. picked me up at work and we went to the auto repair shop to pick up the car that had been left for a hood latch repair that morning. Surprisingly, the repair cost under $30.00 - which made me happy. We drove on to the house and turned in the driveway. As I was getting out of the car, I glanced over my shoulder to the southwest and spotted a sunset that looked as though the sky was on fire. In the quiet of the day's end the glow stopped me in my tracks. Some things should just be preserved either in memory or on a memory stick. I chose the stick last evening.

Tis the Season for Lights, Shopping and Gathering Round....

You can see the Christmas lights all around the town. The park downtown is covered with glittering colors and Santa is present from 6 to 9PM in his gingerbread house to talk with the children. And sell their parents photographs of the visit. I think his beard is real!

Elder daughter convinced me to rise and shine at 5AM on Saturday, to be at JCPenney by 6AM for the second day of their blowout sale. That is twice I've shopped before sunrise and really can't see myself doing it again. Even if I did get two neat wallets for the price of one. And T's Christmas gifts are finally purchased. Starbucks wasn't open when we tried the drive through at 6AM but they were there when we went back by at 7AM. They were sold out of all their specialty breads except for the Gingerbread. It makes a tasty breakfast if you add a hot drink.

And there are the church presentations to enjoy - watching our grandchildren perform in Hopeful Baptist's musical show entitled "Christmas in Egypt" was the highlight last night. The boys are in the Kids Choir and they were brilliant in their parts. All the children were special as they presented the story of Joseph, Jesus and Mary living in Egypt. There was a lot of humor in the play and it was very well done. The adults who work with the children deserve a special star in their crowns. Our own church will present their Christmas cantata next week and then the family will settle down and prepare for Christmas and having everyone all together. On Christmas Eve, I like to stay up until midnight and whisper a little Happy Birthday, Jesus and Thank You, before I toddle off to my pillow.

Top picture - Matthew is at the end, on the riser behind the four girls stage center. His head scarf is striped.

Bottom picture - Nathan is in the group of five boys on stage he is the tallest in the red head scarf at the back. Matt is barely visible in this shot, just above to the left, standing on the riser.

There's talent and then there's - - - talent?

Well, Thanksgiving is gone and Christmas looms. Zeta has welcomed a family member to the Blogging world and when I checked out her website, I was most impressed. Additionally, I was inspired to decorate the office tree in the same style but not necessarily with the same grace.

Piccpipper's tree is so lovely that I showed a printout of it to the two - ahem, gentlemen who come to our offices daily - from a facility where the clothing choice is either an orange jumpsuit or else a vivid green shirt and khaki pants. Both items are marked on the back with the facility name and the designation"property of"

Enough about that. One of the gentlemen had set up the office tree earlier in the week and had been returning to our area to decorate it as his duties allowed. Today the two of them came by and took out our storage box of decorations and I encouraged them to use the blue ribbon as streamers down the tree - they used only blue, silver or white ornaments. It's not as gorgeous as Piccpipper's tree but it looks quite nice in the corner of the office. Welcome, PiccPiper, to the blogging world and it's great to finally visit with you in this fashion.

Happy - uh, What the.....

Tell me if you laughed or not. And have a Happy Thanksgiving, anyway!

Fine Dining Experience

Years ago, when I worked in Miami - my proximity to the jail used to garner me the occasional invitation to walk over and partake of some jail food. It wasn't bad. Cooked in bulk as it was, the chefs still managed to infuse taste and interest in even bland white mashed potatoes. The corrections officers were served from smaller steam tables located in a different area of the facility than the inmates. I enjoyed meals with friends in the unusual setting and scarfed down some pretty tasty meatloaf.

This year, our local jail has invited the sworn and non-sworn employees to have the annual Thanksgiving meal with them. It will probably be set up with the entrance in the Sally-port and food will be lined up along tables against the wall. The seating will be folding chairs set at folding tables extending out into the courtyard We have heard the menu will include turkey and venison - plus a couple of hogs shot by the Sheriff and other meats cooked by the kitchen at the jail. The non-jail employees will be bringing the side dishes and desserts. I expect everyone to need a nap after this repast. I've offered to stay at the office and handle the walk-in trade. There will be one person in Records and there will be a skeleton crew working. Someone will bring me a plate. The rest of the day will be slowed and have a kind of holiday feeling leading into a weekend where we will recover from over-eating. Then we can gear up to do it again on the coming Thursday for Thanksgiving.

Expecting my eyes to have glazed over from all the food coming our way, let me take this opportunity to wish all a Happy Thanksgiving and for those with anniversaries in the near future; Happy Anniversary to Ranger and J. E.

Way to go!

Our insurance company informed us that we needed to do some things around the house in order to renew our homeowners for next year. We needed to cut some of the tree branches hanging over the roof. We needed to put up a handrail on the stairs outside the utility room door. We needed to replace some dry-rotted wood on the roof eave.

We have two out of three completed. We used someone that Elder Daughter and her hubby knew at their church to lop the tree. We had to wait for a dry day and then, bing, bang, boom -the big truck came and the tree limbs were removed and cut up and some even stacked for firewood.

Last weekend, our son-in-law built a handrail. It went up faster than I thought it would. I guess when you have the proper tools and know how to use them, it's easy. He borrowed my debit card and went off to the local Home Depot and came back with pressure treated wood that he assured us will last forever. He even got a newel post to finish it off. I loved that touch! It makes it safer to go up and down the 3 brick steps leading into the back yard. I hadn't realized how awkward it was taking laundry out to dry with no railing on those steps.

Next weekend, we will hand the debit card over again and we should have the rotted wood on the roof eaves looking ever so much better.

Thanks, Rich!

Swine Whine

Riddle me this! After hearing that Eldest Daughter's oldest son tested positive for H1N1 this afternoon, why does my throat suddenly seem a little bit - uh, sore-ish? Not really sore but it could be if I think about it. Sooo - I just won't think about it.

I called my doctor and asked the protocol for families and was told to keep hands clean, sterilize surfaces and they wouldn't prescribe unless there were symptoms. So, I called the VA for T. and got pretty much the same advice. No preventive meds. are needed for the family, keep things clean, disinfect surfaces. Call back if symptoms develop. Eldest Daughter will follow up with the pediatrician's office in the morning to see if her youngest son should start on a preventative course of medication. The person they saw today didn't seem so inclined.

On the way home tonight, I am stopping at Walgreens to pick up NT's meds (Tamiflu), something prescribed for his cough and some children's Motrin.

Also 3 cans of Lysol,

And maybe a couple of masks.

Gobble Hobble

It's almost Thanksgiving - meaning it's almost time to count our blessings and then gird ourselves for Black Friday! Each year, I swear I'm not getting caught up in the hassle and rush of going Christmas shopping before the sun comes up. Each year, I find myself in a line somewhere. Most of the time, it's the one in front of Wal-Mart. Last year, Younger Daughter was home for the holiday and we went to Wally World and made our purchases and got home in time for a late breakfast. We were delighted with the savings. The year before, T and I went to Home Depot and got one of those folding Gorilla ladders. It was cold that year and we arrived at 6:00AM for the 7 O'clock opening. We were the only fools in the parking lot. We about froze to death outside the store before one of the sales associates took pity on us and allowed us to enter the part of the store where the baskets are stored. We couldn't go inside the lighted and warm area but at least we were out of the wind. I still think of that woman with gratitude.

This year, I have been getting the Black Friday ads by email, meaning I must have signed up for the service some time last year. It has been kind of nice to receive notice of the upcoming offerings from places like Toys R Us, Wal-Mart, Target and Ace Hardware. I can pre-decide where I want to position myself and what time I should get there to take advantage of the sales. I may shop just Radio Shack and Ace Hardware this year. Hopefully the lines won't be as long or the customers as excitable at either of those shops. And I can knock another one or two items off my Christmas list.

Ace had a good deal on wooden stacking tray tables. I have none. If I can convince myself I really need some, I can be in the parking lot by 7:30AM. I'm sure of it! I wonder if T would go with me.... maybe if I offer to treat him to breakfast afterwards.

Oldie Goldies

Take the quiz and see how you score as a true ''Oldies Fan.''

Write down your answers to the 30 questions below and check them against the answers at the end. Don't cheat, now (I know you won't) !

1. When did ''Little Suzie'' finally wake up?
(a) The movie's over, it's 2 o'clock
(b) The movie's over, it's 3 o'clock
(c) The movie's over, it's 4 o'clock

2. ''Rock Around The Clock'' was used in what movie?
(a) Rebel Without A Cause
(b) Blackboard Jungle
(c) The Wild Ones

3. What's missing from a Rock & Roll standpoint? Earth_____
(a) Angel
(b) Mother
(c) Worm

4. ''I found my thrill . . .'' where?
(a) Kansas City
(b) Heartbreak Hotel
(c) Blueberry Hill

5. ''Please turn on your magic beam,__________ bring me a dream,'':
(a) Mr. Sandman
(b) Earth Angel
(c) Dream Lover

6. For which label did Elvis Presley first record?
(a) Atlantic
(b) RCA
(c) Sun

7. He asked, ''Why's everybody always pickin' on me?'' Who was he?
(a) Bad, Bad Leroy Brown
(b) Charlie Brown
(c) Buster Brown

8. In Bobby Darin's ''Mack The Knife,'' the one with the knife, was named:
(a) MacHeath
(b) MacCloud
(c) MacNamara

9. Name the song with ''A-wop bop a-loo bop a-lop bam boom.''
(a) Good Golly, Miss Molly
(b) Be-Bop-A-Lula
(c) Tutti Fruitti

10. Who is generally given credit for originating the term ''Rock And Roll''?
(a) Dick Clark
(b) Wolfman Jack
(c) Alan Freed

11. In 1957, he left the music business to become a preacher:
(a) Little Richard
(b) Frankie Lymon
(c) Tony Orlando

12. Paul Anka's ''Puppy Love'' is written to what star?
(a) Brenda Lee
(b) Connie Francis
(c) Annette Funicello

13. The Everly Brothers are . . ...
(a) Pete and Dick
(b) Don and Phil
(c) Bob and Bill

14. The Big Bopper's real name was:
(a) Jiles P. Richardson
(b) Roy Harold Scherer Jr.
(c) Marion Michael Morrison

15. In 1959, Berry Gordy, Jr., started a small record company called...
(a) Decca
(b) Cameo
(c) Motown

16. Edd Brynes had a hit with ''Kookie, Kookie, Lend Me Your Comb''. What TV show was he on?
(a) 77 Sunset Strip
(b) Hawaiian Eye
(c) Surfside Six

17. In 1960 Bobby Darin married:
(a) Carol Lynley
(b) Sandra Dee
(c) Natalie Wood

18. They were a one hit wonder with ''Book Of Love'':
(a) The Penguins
(b) The Monotones
(c) The Moonglows

19. The Everly Brothers sang a song called ''Till I ______ You.''
(a) Loved
(b) Kissed
(c) Met

20. Chuck Berry sang ''Oh,___________, why can't you be true?''
(a) Suzie Q
(b) Peggy Sue
(c) Maybelline

21. ''Wooly_______''
(a) Mammouth
(b) Bully
(c) Pully

22. ''I'm like a one-eyed cat . . . ."
(a) can't go into town no more
(b) sleepin' on a cold hard floor
(c) peepin' in a seafood store

23. ''Sometimes I wonder what I'm gonna do . . . . .''
(a) cause there ain't no answer for a life without booze
(b) cause there ain't no cure for the summertime blues
(c) cause my car's gassed up and I'm ready to cruise

24. ''They often call me Speedo, but my real name is .. . . . . .''
(a) Mr. Earl
(b) Jack ie Pearl
(c) Milton Berle

25. ''You're my Fanny and nobody else's .....''
(a) girl
(b) butt
(c) love

26. ''I want you to play with my . . . ''
(a) heart
(b) dreams
(c) ding a ling

27. ''Be Bop A Lula ....''
(a) she's got the rabies
(b) she's my baby.
(c) she loves me, maybe

28. ''Fine Love, Fine Kissing ...''
(a) right here
(b) fifty cents
(c) just for you

29. ''He wore black denim trousers and . . .''
(a) a pink carnation
(b) pink leotards
(c) motorcycle boots

30. ''I got a gal named . .. .''
(a) Jenny Zamboni
(b) Gerri Mahoney
(c) Boney Maroney

Answers below:




Scroll Down so you aren't tempted to cheat (as if cheating were needed here).

* * * * * * * * * * * *
1 (c) The movie's over, it's 4 o'clock
2. (b) Blackboard Jungle
3. (a) Angel
4. (c) Blueberry Hill
5. (a) Mr. Sandman
6. (c) Sun
7. (b) Charlie Brown
8. (a) Mac Heath
9. (c) Tutti Fruitti
10. (c) Alan Freed
11. (a) Little Richard
12.. (c) Annette Funicello
13. (b) Don and Phil
14. (a) Jiles P. Richardson
15. (c) Motown
16. (a) 77 Sunset Strip
17. (b) Sandra Dee
18. (b) The Monotones
19. (b) Kissed
20. (c) Maybelline
21. (b) Bully
22. (c) peepin' in a seafood store
23. (b) cause there ain't no cure for the summertime blues
24. (a) Mr. Earl
25. (b) butt
26. (c) ding a ling
27. (b) she's my baby
28. (a) right here
29. (c) motorcycle boots
30. (c) Boney Maroney

Why Chickens Have Skin.

I have found the secret of why chickens have skins. I mean, in addition to holding the insides together and providing a place to hang the feathers; chickens have skin for another great reason. They have skin so that Wal-Mart can sell them seasoned with lemon pepper and cooked on the rotisserie - and we can buy them and take them home. Chickens have skin because a seasoned and well cooked piece of skin, torn from the carcass of the bird makes the best place to hide an antibiotic pill for a Belgian Pug to scarf down.

Since we discovered this secret, life has gotten so much easier two times a day, morning and evening.

Hay, there.

We noticed a slightly cooler tingle to the air yesterday and when church let out, the temperature had fallen considerably. It felt great. Like a slug of energy coming across the fields on the other side of the road. This morning the thermometer gave every indication that the cooler air had settled in for a visit. 54 degrees, it said. The sun was golden. It was a lovely drive to work. I attribute the lift in attitude to both the cooler weather and the return to "normal" time. Of course there are flies in every ointment. This morning, I woke up at 5:00 A. M. I still had an hour to sleep but my eyes popped open and staying in bed any longer would have been futile. Perhaps I will get used to the time change and regulate my internal clock, so I am rising an hour later. After all, in the olden days (last week), my 6:00 would have been 5Am.

After work, I stopped at Deep Creek Feed and Supply to pick up 2 bales of hay for Bella and Savannah - the two paint horses in our field. I had called from work earlier in the afternoon to make sure they had Coastal Hay. They're very nice at this feed store. If they're running low on hay and you call them, they'll set aside a bale or two. The place is a pull-through store, kind of like 7-Elevens. You enter a wide doorway at one end where there's a double gumball machine just left of the entrance. Sometimes there will be tables to your left, full of produce for sale. Other times maybe a saddle or some horse related items on offer. Today I didn't notice anything for sale but the gumball machine was topped with an enormous bird nest. I mean it was not little by any means. It couldn't have been built by a weakling bird like a Wren or Bluebird. The nest filled up the space between the double heads of the gumball receptacles. Maybe it would measure a foot and a half across. The twigs woven in were finger sized. I asked the salesman what kind of bird had built the nest, expecting something majestic like an Eagle. It was a Crow's nest. He said they had cut down a tree and the nest was in the branches. Those caustic and cawing black birds surely do know how to build a nest that will stand up to anything.

After paying for the hay bales, I pulled out of the building at the back side and looped around to the wooden shed where they store their hay. I popped the trunk and unlocked the car doors and the salesman plopped a bale in the trunk then lined the back seat with cardboard and put the second bale on top of that. Slamming the doors he waved - See you later. And twenty minutes later I was home.

I never thought I'd be toting hay home in the back seat of my car or marvelling over the size of a nest - but there you have it. When tomatoes are in season, I'll swing back through Deep Creek Feed and bring some home. It's a nice place to shop.

Poor Wee Doggie...

Poor lil' Daisy. Her behind part bears 2 shiny staples that the vet. will remove next week. She is taking an antibiotic and such a strong painkiller that she can only take 1 every 24 hours. Tonight we put both pills in her canned chopped food and she gobbled it right up. She sort of zones out but moves around better with the pills in her. Elder Daughter said that earlier this evening Daisy was standing in her crate just staring into her empty food bowl. That's all. Just staring. She's doing it now. I mean it's weird. Like the last meal she ate made her feel so gooood that she wants to repeat the experience? Okay, this might be freaking me out.

Earlier in the day we saw two Animal Control officers. They came about 3PM, first to our house where we showed them photographs of the injury and described what happened yesterday. The Animal Control officers then went over to the neighbor's house. I could hear them honking the horn from the back of his lot (10 acres, or so away) and then silence. While they were across the road, a Deputy Sheriff came up in the yard and he will write a report for us. He also went across the road to see the neighbor.

Animal Control returned and told us that there was no response to their attempt to make contact, although all the doors to the house were wide open. They put a notice on the door. We haven't heard anything from the neighbor/owner of the dogs since Animal Control and the deputy left.

A friend who is also the County's Agriculture Enforcement guy had advised us to file both the Animal Control complaint and one with Law Enforcement. He also said we need to file a new complaint every time the dogs are seen off their property.

This morning Elder Daughter was walking her 2 pugs by the burn pit. She saw one of the dogs in our field across the road with her horses. Yelling and shouting for him to go home, she attracted his attention and he ran across to our side of the road and headed to the younger of the Pugs. Daughter said she began telling her dogs to go home and started toward the intruder, yelling and waving arms. That broke his concentration on her dog and he looked at her, barked at her and then ran off to his own property. When we spoke to Animal Control today, they issued another case number and this becomes the second incident report.

Isn't it a shame that dogs don't know what fences and boundary markers mean.

Given that fact, isn't it a shame that some dog owners don't confine their animals.

Who Let Them Dogs Out...

Yesterday I came home at the normal and regular time - after 5:00PM. As I pulled to a stop before turning in our drive - I saw a red and white Pit-Bull-looking dog run out of the gate that opens to the side field. That's the access to the trailer behind us where Elder Daughter and her family live, along with her free roaming cat and some chickens in a pen. The dog stopped in the road and stared at my car as if to say, "So? What are you gonna' do about it!"

Our neighbor across the road has a couple of dogs that I've never seen but T. keeps telling me they come up in our yard and he has seen them running along the road. He didn't think they were Pit Bulls. The other day, Elder Daughter told me she had seen them and the dogs appeared to her to be Pit Bulls. It made her very uncomfortable to have them loose on the road. She and her husband have noticed both dogs along the field where the horses are. She has children who get off the school bus and run to their home behind us. T. and I spoke about the dogs last night - I was concerned that they could get after the boys as they get off the bus or could cause injury to animals on our land. T. still didn't believe the dogs were vicious and at that point discussion ceased. Well, out loud anyway. In my mind, it was another matter! Humph.

This morning T. called me at work. He had let our little white Belgian Pug, Daisy - out in the yard and both the Pit Bulls rushed at her. In her own yard!

T. was able to get Daisy away and when he called me he was still upset. He is now convinced that the dogs are Pit Bulldogs. Elder Daughter took our wee Pug to the vet when she got home and Daisy now has 2 staples where the dogs got her. We agreed to discuss the problem further tonight.

The little voice in my head isn't quite chanting, "Those dogs must go, dogs must go!..." But it's close.

Time and Time

Getting up at Dark:Thirty is so hard. I have to do it if I want to get myself off to work on time and I have to go to work if I want to get paid. So I set the radio alarm to go off at 6:00AM and then I get ready, set and coffee by 7-ish. Out the door around 10 after 7 and the drive is on roads that go North then due East. That due East stretch is a bad one if the sun is visible. It's right in the eyes and the glare is something else. It seems almost an insult to have to start out driving in the dark and wind up blinded by the sun on the same stretch of road. Ah, but this weekend things will change. I will set the clock back on Saturday night as I trundle off to bed and come Monday morning I will be drinking my coffee while I look out the window and see the sun already up. It'll be daylight. At last, things will make sense in the morning.

However - the drive home may be another story. I'll be headed more West than South and the sun....isn't there a place to lodge a complaint over Daylight Savings?

Hello?

Hello, is anybody listening?

Things Change

It's October in North Central Florida and for some people, that means bikes and Biketober Fest. Bike as in motorcycles and riding them and going to Daytona to see the Daytona Speedway. Riding your Hog on Main Street in Daytona. Maybe parking your bike at a place called Main Street Motorcycle World. I learned through my reading on the Internet that Main Street Motorcycle World is a vacant lot about 3 blocks from the ocean. It's walking distance from the famous Boardwalk and Main Street Pier. That's Daytona, now.

In the Daytona of my childhood, we would stay at the old Fernwood Hotel which was owned by Captain and Bessie Crews and operated by Bessie after The Captain died. Our dad, who drove a Greyhound Bus for a living and had friends all over the state of Florida - knew both the Captain and Mrs. Crews. When school was out, he would call her to arrange a date for our arrival on vacation. Once the date was settled, he and Mom would pack us up in the car and drive to Daytona where we'd cross the bridge and make our way to the hotel for a stay of a day or two. Or maybe it was more. Time tends to telescope, when looking backwards.

I recall our arrivals at the Fernwood. There was a stairway on the left as you walked into the lobby and the desk was at the back of the lobby. There was a bottled water machine near the entrance and it had the coldest water. There was a framed poem hanging near the water cooler that said in part, "You are Welcome Very Welcome to the Shelter of Our Roof..." I am willing to attempt to quote the entire poem upon request.

Mom and Dad would go to the back and talk to Bessie Crews; checking in and reminiscing about old times while we children read the brochures on the rack or figured the distance between two points of interest by twirling the wheel on a machine set on the counter. Once we were checked in, we'd climb the stairs to the 3rd floor and unlock the room and stow our suitcases. We would often have time to change to our bathing suits and walk down to the famous hard-sand beach for a swim that lasted until our suits were full of grit and our skin was red as a lobster. Then we'd walk back along Main Street towards the hotel looking into the shop windows and eying the taffy machine in the sweet shop window. After our baths Mom might insist we take a nap in the room and we'd lie on the beds and listen to the fan rotating as it cooled us in these days before wide-spread air conditioning. Later, Dad would drive us back across the bridge to have dinner at the S & S Cafeteria where he would toss coins on the trays as the waiters set our meals before us. I always enjoyed the turkey plate there and must have drunk gallons of the cherry flavored juice in tall plastic glasses that were so full of ice.

After dinner we'd go back to the hotel and Mom and Dad would get ready to go out for the evening. Mom would give us kids enough money to play games and ride the Bumper Cars on the Boardwalk. We had to be back in the room by a certain time, I want to say it was 9:00PM - but she would give us permission to walk back past the hotel to a nearby shop and have an ice-cream sundae if we had money left. She would put our sister in charge. She and Dad would go on to the dog track and Big Sis (Ranger) would walk younger brother and me east along the Main Street to the Boardwalk just off the beach. We'd play Skee-Ball and other games and try to amass tickets to win one of the prizes available. As it grew dark, we could ride the rides and enjoy the adventure until we had to start back. The ice cream shop where we wound up our evening served the best sundaes. We sat in a booth that was upholstered in green cracked plastic and after we were served our treats, we'd play favorite songs on the jukebox with our last nickles. We were back in the room and asleep long before Mom and Dad returned from their evening. We felt safe listening to the buzz of the fan and watching the intermittent glow from the lighted sign outside the room as it flashed the name, Fernwood Hotel... Fernwood Hotel...Fernwood. I recall those days so fondly and had thought to try and find the old place one night while surfing the 'net.

Imagine my dismay when I read that the building was torn down in 2001. Despite an attempt at getting an historic building designation, the Fernwood went to a buyer who just razed and bulldozed the place. It's a vacant lot, according to the last information I found. And during Bike Week, it's a place to park your Hog while you walk around on Main Street, visit the bars, talk to other bikers and make your own memories of Daytona to cherish down through the years.

Lazy Days or Daisy Lays...

Late in the afternoon, our little white mixed Pug dog is standing in her crate making the whining sound in her throat that causes folks as far away as Alabama to call her "pig-dog". It's an irritating whining that gets chopped off midway. And, I guess it does somewhat sound like a pig. More than somewhat. Okay, it sounds just like oinking. I tell her to hush and she snorts and turns around on her bedding, then plops down with a sigh. If she's not disturbed, pretty soon she'll start doing her buzz-saw imitation.

She's a white dog, with short hair that seems eternally to be shedding. Her tail curls round and she has big brown eyes that are sort of popped but still very doe-like. She would look more like a standard Pug if she had the bashed in nose of the breed. The lady who sold her to us called her a "Belgian Pug". If you look up Belgian Pug on a search engine, you get back Pug-dog clubs in Belgium. There doesn't appear to be an actual Belgian Pug breed recognized by the A. K. C.

Okay, the seller had a Dachshund in her household as well as several Pugs and apparently had introduced the two breeds together in hopes of getting a dog that had more of a nose than a Pug does. She believed it was healthier for a dog to have even a little length of nose to breathe with. She succeeded on getting that conformation when this pup was born. Daisy has a short snout and a lower jaw that juts out slightly. Head on she is more Pug-like than when she turns sideways although she doesn't have the side jowls of the breed. She was the runt of the litter and her brothers and sisters were sold before we got there. So, we took this little puppy for Elder Daughter. Now, Elder Daughter and her husband were living in Orlando at the time and when we gave them the pup they already had a young black colored male Pug in the household. They would have kept Daisy but for the fact that she was so young and her teeth were so sharp. And she went after the male dog with those little needle teeth, nipping him in his most vulnerable spot. Elder Daughter sorrowfully told us they couldn't keep the white Belgian Pug because they might want to breed the black one and if Daisy kept up her attacks they were afraid she'd damage that prospect. We accepted the puppy back and have had her ever since.

She's a good alarm when strangers pull into the yard but she tends to be more bark than bite. Fact is, when she is startled - she falls over sideways and froths at the mouth. She's good company for T. when he goes out picking up pecans and will stay close by while he jabs the picker at the nuts and shakes them into his plastic bag. She knows she'll be rewarded with a nut or two when they get back to the house. She loves to chase rabbits who wander up close to the house. She heads after them full tilt and when they squeeze through the fence she takes her time sniffing the grass where they disappeared. We keep pans in the yard to water the various birds that come to dine on our scattered seeds. Daisy runs to those pans and drinks from the bird water as often as we let her. I think she believes it's a lightly seasoned soup provided by the management. She sleeps in the family room beside the piano and snores loud enough to be heard in the living room, right through the wall of the house. She's been with us about 12 years now. I think Pugs are not so long lived as she. Maybe the lady who bred her had the right idea about that little bit of snout being better for doggie health - if she had only warned us that Belgian Pugs snore so loudly!

Spring Forward and Fall...when?

We have a shrub growing outside the downstairs room. Well, it's only three steps down from the kitchen into what used to be a garage and that now houses a fireplace, a piano, a couch and assorted chairs - plus the dog and the cat crates. But, when you step out into the side yard, you see a shrub that is taller than my head (but not as tall as the roof). It is full of small green leaves that last pretty much the year round.

When the nights start getting cooler we keep an eye on the thing because T's cousin Delma once told us that the plant predicts when the weather is about to turn colder; bringing a freeze our way. She said the shrub would bloom with lots of small white flowers before the frost and then the blossoms would fall off afterward - only to bloom again when the weather turns colder. We've been through enough cycles of this winter behavior to believe what Delma told us in her country wisdom.

Last Saturday, I got out of our car and glanced at the shrub. It is covered in tiny white blooms.

The weather forecast for next weekend calls for a cold front to come in on Friday.

I own a Weather Shell. (It's kind of like a Weather Rock, only much smaller.) It dangles from a string tied to an angled plastic stick and will let you know if you're experiencing anything from from a light zephyr to hurricane gales. But the shrub in our side yard is the best thing around for predicting cold weather ahead!

Water Where???

I plan to be somewhere in the morning where I can watch the NASA Channel. There are a couple of space vehicles speeding toward the south pole of the moon and one will crash into a selected crater in the polar region - while the other of the rocket duo will film what happens. Scientists are expecting a visible plume of matter to rise out of the crater and be visible against the sunlight. The mother ship that is filming the plume will then fly through the debris and analyse the substances. Then that rocket will crash into the crater. The event will be covered by NASA TV and I hope to be there on the couch watching with mouth open and eyes big and round as this attempt to locate water on the moon takes place.

The event should be visible to ten inch telescopes in North America. I just think it's too chilly to sit outside on a lawn chair trying to hone in on the southern edge of the moon in hopes of spotting the debris rise. No, I can see myself in the warm living room, coffee in hand while watching this space epic play out. Just think, if there really is water to be had on the lunar surface, some day a grandchild or great grandchild could be sitting on the moon enjoying his or her own cup of coffee. Isn't that what it's all about?

Sort of....

It's sort of a gloomy day with grey overcast skies and droopy limbs on the trees. We have had scads of rain the last couple of days. Yesterday it came down over a wide area and was so heavy that we couldn't see much outside the windows except the pines swaying in the winds. Yet, in the middle of all the darkness, there are little glimmers of silver along the edges of the clouds.

Eldest Daughter's husband got back safely from the trip with Senior Adults at his church. They had a good time and the Senior A's appreciate him for making the trip so pleasant. My little toasted GPS device apparently made the trip a little easier and it only guided them wrongly one time. It told them to turn and then proceeded to update the driving directions as they passed the intersection. Perhaps the group wasn't listening when told to Turn Right the first time. Some of those Senior Groups can get a little rowdy. While the group was travelling out of the area, Eldest Daughter and her Other Half celebrated their anniversary - it's hard when you're not in the same town, much less the same state but I'm sure they'll use our gift to have a nice dinner out with the boys, now that everyone is together again.

Youngest Daughter's air conditioning went on the blink and the building maintenance guy hadn't fixed it properly when I last checked with her. The bright spot is that she knows how to turn the unit off and let it defrost so that she can continue to cool the apartment. Her father was in Air Conditioning and Refrigeration for years and both the girls have his fix-it gene. They also know how to change a tire, drive a nail, bait a hook and remove a fish from same. These are all skills that come in handy from time to time. Both are good cooks and are raising children to make a grandparent proud. Youngest Daughter sent a picture of her big boy, proudly standing on the back of a firetruck and dressed in a child sized Home Depot apron. He had attended the monthly children's workshop and then gotten a treat bag - which he later shared with Smokey the Bear. The fire department had set up outside the store and if there's one thing this child loves, it's trucks! Hoo-Ah!

As I said, there bright spots amid the rain and murky weather. You've just got to look for them. Counting blessings can improve a rainy day.

The Wheels on the Bus go...

This morning I had an appointment to have a routine blood draw for my doctor's office. I got up early and planned to be at the lab by 7:30AM when they opened so I could be on time at work. Elder Daughter's husband is on an out-of-state trip and she called to ask us if we could put the boys on the bus for her. She will be home to pick them up this afternoon. I told T. I'd take my car and run them out to the road and wait until the big yellow bus arrived. When they came over, I was still getting dressed so they rested their eyes in the living room while I got ready and when it came time, we called them to get in the car. They came gangling out of the dark living room like night creatures blinking to get used to the light, shrugging on their book bags. We went out into the dark and piled into the the car. The outside air was cool but because T. had started the car and let it run, it was nicely warm inside. Matthew commented on how good it felt. I punched on the headlights, waved at T. and idled down the driveway to the edge of the road. We stopped between the two Pecan trees that flank the drive and I parked.

I left the headlights on and they shone across the road but we couldn't see anything in the field because it was so dark. There are two brown and white horses across the road and we couldn't even see them. We waited in the car - surrounded by dark and cold while we talked of this and that - how Grampa worries when they get off the bus in the afternoons and hurry across the road to meet their mom in the field. (Matt told me in a matter of fact voice that he always tells the driver if they are going to cross in front of the bus. ) How they're doing in school. (Fine.)

I had my Blackberry and Nathan asked me to play the Star Wars ring tone - and I did while both boys did the "lead the orchestra" thing. We listened to Jingle Bells and Matt told me I couldn't play it yet because Christmas was still a ways off and it was too early. We agreed that December would be a good time.

I played The Empire Strikes Back ring tone and put up my index finger while saying, "Zuhm" Nathan put up his light saber in return and we finger dueled there in the dark. It was warm in the car, lit by just the dash lights and the beam of headlights. While we talked the sky got a bit more gray, so you could see the shapes of trees in the dark. I could see the white on both horses now, as they stood by the hay to eat. There was an ever increasing amount of light in the sky. And a lot of light from the south end of the road as the school bus chugged up and stopped with lights blinking and the stop-arm out. The boys pushed open the car doors and got out of our warm and cozy haven and stepped up into the bus. "Good-bye, have a good....!"

The yellow monster took off, bearing the two away to start their school day. I did enjoy the time spent with my grandsons, before the sun was up or the day warmed. I will see if I can't do it again tomorrow.

The GPS, The Oven and Me!

Last year for Christmas I had bought a navigation device for T. I have played with it more than he has. It knows the way to my office and back to the house quite well. It has an idea where Younger Daughter lives in a state just west of us. At least, it can get us in the general vicinity of her home! I had stuck the suction-cup holder to the windshield of my car and it stayed there for six months. I couldn't figure how to undo the suction. The little slider release worked just fine but the suction just wouldn't let go. I couldn't seem to find anything that would slide between the bottom of the mount and the window to break the vacuum The GPS device came and went as I moved in and out of the car but the holder stayed stuck in place. One afternoon, I left work and something was different about the car's interior. The suction cup finally came loose and the holder was on the floor. Oh, thank goodness! I don't know if I'll ever use it again. Next time, Velcro can hold the device in place on the dash. Or it can sit in my ashtray.

Now I really liked the little black GPS For Dummies that I purchased and I would transfer it from purse to purse. Then - one day without thinking, I set it on top of the toaster oven in the kitchen. Not directly on the top - it was sitting on two of the extra baking racks, but close enough to the surface that I shouldn't have left it there. Somehow, the oven got used later - with my poor little navigation device still sitting on top.

Long story short, it went for a 400 degree trip, until I spotted it and lifted it off. I didn't even try to turn it on (it was very warm!) but I put it on the edge of the kitchen hutch that holds my cookbooks. I let the GPS cool down much as you would a batch of toll-house cookies. And then I left it alone.

Today, Elder Daughter phoned to say that her hubby is taking a trip with a group of the Senior Adults he pastors at church. She wondered if he could borrow the GPS. Well. I guess so. He could borrow a rock from the garden, too. I was afraid it would navigate just as well as my little shake-and-bake device!

I scouted up the USB charger and took the GPS off the hutch. Plugging it in to the computer, I let it sit for a while to begin the process of bringing it back to life, if that was even possible. The red light came on. Aha, Watson! Some circuits may be working. Further pressing of the on/off switch brought up the familiar logo and then the opening screen. What do you know! GPS For Dummies is smart enough to survive a ride on a counter-top oven. I guess it will get the group to where they're going. I'm just hoping the little female voice that tells you where to turn will sound like it did before the oven mishap. Did you ever try to gargle while saying I-75?

Winter is coming

Winter isn't so far away. I missed the Autumnal Equinox by a day. I was going to make sure to see the sun coming up directly east, blinding me as I drove to work. But I got a late start and it was overcast - so, I missed the solar reminder that the sun is over the equator and will be heading back the other direction as we turn on our axis. The days will be dark in the mornings until we set our clocks back in October. Still, it's going to be a refreshing change to see the roadside flowers showing themselves in their yellow hues. White seems to be the Spring foliage color and mostly yellow for Winter.

Youngest daughter and I took a box of wildflower seeds when we first moved to our country home. We traipsed up and down the road - blithely shaking seeds along the edge and waited to see what glories we'd spread. Next year, pretty much the same things blossomed. Maybe a few more of those spiky yellow things came up. They remind me of Snapdragons. Still, I like to think we did our part to increase the wildflower population roundabouts.

Like it needed a boost!

I'm waiting for number 3.

I just finished the second in a trilogy by Stieg Larsson. The first was The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Then came The Girl Who Played with Fire. Both concern continuing characters with the girl in each book being one Lisbeth Salander - who is a well drawn and highly interesting if unlikely heroine. The third in the set is probably out in hardcover this month in some European book markets and is titled The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. I am already scanning the book shelves for it.

Larsson was Swedish and had completed the 3 books in the series when he died of a heart attack. There is supposed to be a fourth book residing on a hard drive inside a computer that is owned by his live-in girlfriend but due to the death of Larsson, it may not be easily published. Larsson's family is hindering any plans toward that end.

The Lisbeth Salander character grows on you. She has had a hard early life and is an independent soul - genius and anger are mixed together because of her formative years and the violent effects of those years are not over in the present day.

I found it slightly disconcerting to read a novel set in another country - the place names throw one off until you come to a reference to eating in a McDonalds and then you're on familiar ground. I know what that place looks like but not necessarily what a small town in Norway should be in my imagination. Larsson did a fine job describing the landscape so that I could follow place changes without any trouble. He also did a fine job writing a novel that is worthy of a rainy afternoon spent on the couch. Turn the television off. Lock the door. Don't answer the phone. Read on!

Is it catching?

I've been noticing Ranger's posts lately. Seems as if an awful lot of appliance and vehicular failures are happening at that end of the state. I was kind of congratulating us on avoiding such shenanigans with our washer or dryer or windshield.

Oops.

This morning I got up to get ready for work. I was sitting in the living room chair, talking to T. when I heard a splish. We spoke some more. (Splish.) I asked if he heard the sound. He said no. (Splish.)

It sounded like it was coming from the air conditioning closet. There is a line that leads outside for drips and splishes and the guy who installed our replacement unit added an inside line for us in case the outside line gets backed up. We put a large container under the end of the line in the closet. I heard water splish-splashing into the container. Inside the house.

T. went outside and said the line wasn't draining into the yard. When he came back in, he dipped the excess water out of the bin and then we called the guy who did the work for us and (sorry!) apparently woke him up. He very nicely said he'd stop by this evening and blow out the line so the water would start going out in the yard again which is where we really, really want it. Things could be worse. Before the new unit came to live in our closet, we used to not know the drain to outdoors was backed up until we squelched across the dining room rug and felt the water ooze up between our toes. Now that will wake you up!

We're Family AND an Update

I got an email addressed to a huge bunch of folks from a cousin I haven't seen in years and years. Her mother was a favorite aunt and they lived in our hometown. We visited them as children, playing in their yard at dusk and catching fireflies in the twilight. They lived on an acre and that was such an enormous yard when we'd visit. We often went fishing with them along the canal which runs beside The Trail out into the Everglades. I have a memory picture of her older brother fishing with a cane pole. He pulled in a fish from the dark canal waters and it flipped right over his head and landed on the roadway. His father called to him to get the fish off the road. He didn't have the chance to act because a car went by and ran over the poor fish as it lay stunned on the asphalt. Do you know a fish makes a popping sound when it's run over? Neither did I.

Her dad hunted every chance he got and I recall platters of quail cooked and served by our aunt after a successful hunting weekend. When her brother got his first deer, they brought it to our house to dress it out. I guess we had more room at the time. I can see their warm and welcoming house and feel the love we shared, growing up in a simpler time - before rockets to the moon and rap music videos.

The cousin married, had a family of her own and and eventually moved to Virginia. She's now a grandmother and she has a seven and a half month old grandson who has to have minor surgery. He has a pulmonary stenosis issue, as his grandmother put it and so, she asked for prayer on his behalf. Of course we will pray for little Fletch and ask others to do the same. He's a cousin I've never seen, but part of our scattered family and I know his "Namaw" would do the same for any of us in all our generations.

UPDATE TO POST: Just got an email from a friend to let everyone know the baby is out of surgery and doing great. He is expected to go home at 6PM. Praise The Lord!

Another Date In History

Our first born child was sound asleep in her room and we were sleeping just down the hall. The date was September 14th and we were expecting a second child. The birth could come at any time but I didn't expect something to happen when I went to bed on the 13th. I wasn't feeling labor pains when I went to sleep and had been feeling well the past few days. The hospital where we were pre-checked in offered a nice couples dinner that would be available some time after our child was born. The food was reputed to be quite good and we were actually looking forward to enjoying what was described as a night of fine dining, before we checked out to return home with our new daughter.

I woke from a sound sleep. It may have taken a moment or so to decide what woke me up but not any longer than that. Labor! Full labor! Ready-to-push type labor pains woke me. I woke T. and told him we urgently needed call the doctor, get my sister to come down to the house to take care of our toddler - and then we needed to get to the hospital. This child was coming and if we didn't hurry, we might greet her before anyone expected.

T. rushed to the phone and made the call to sis. I called the doctor's office and got his answering service and left a fast message. Our daughter woke up with all the commotion and I know she was frightened to see Mommy and Daddy packing up in the middle of the night and getting ready to leave her. I tried to explain that we had to go to the hospital and get her new sister and that her Aunt would be coming down to take care of her. I'm not sure how much of that sunk in.

I recalled the nurse who taught childbirth classes telling the mothers to start panting when they needed to delay delivery and I began panting - and what do you know, it worked! My sister came in and went to take care of Sarah. T. and I rushed out to our car and I got into the back seat to lie down. We started the wildest and quickest ride of our lives. I recall pressing my toes into the arm rest on the car door and panting each time a pain would come. I so wanted to begin pushing but knew I couldn't. Every now and again, T. would turn his head and ask me how I was doing as we sped the streets toward the hospital. He was trying not to panic but I could feel the surge of the car as his foot pressed the accelerator. We had to cross a railroad track and he never hit the brake, just called to me to hold on as he took the grade crossing at maximum speed. I actually got a little airborn as we went over the tracks. Not far, now. We slid up to the emergency entrance to the hospital and he ran inside to get someone to help. I was bundled into a wheelchair and taken inside. I remember him telling the night shift his wife was in full labor and to get the doctor. There was someone standing at the desk and he introduced himself as The Doctor. Sure enough it was! We went upstairs to the Delivery Room - no time for the Labor Room... things were sort of a blur. But - at one point during the course of events, the doctor told me to push and then suddenly he told me not to push. I panted some more. Gosh, that nurse who gave the classes sure did know what she was talking about. When I was allowed to resume pushing, there was a little delay and then Susan came into the world - what a lovely cry she had.

The doctor later told us the baby had the cord around her neck and he had to remove it. That's why he so abruptly stopped delivery. Wow, thank you to so many people that night. To T. who drove like a maniac, to my sister who came to care for our older daughter while we rushed off into the night and to the nurse whose classes had impressed me with proper breathing techniques during labor, to the doctor who safely delivered our healthy girl. From the time I woke up until the moment Susan was born took just 60 minutes. That was one intense little hour.

Now it has been thirty-0ne years - and 1 hour, since our second daughter made her memorable entrance into our lives bring us joy and love and surprises and completing the family we started with Sarah. T. and I got to have our dinner at the hospital as promised and we probably enjoyed the gourmet meal but I couldn't tell you to this day what we ate. I doubt he could either.

We talk about the wild ride to the hospital and how quickly the baby came. We talk about the important things; the family we made and how much we love our girls and their families. And every year when each of our daughters' birthday dates roll around, I think about the start of it all.

Have a Happy Birthday, Suse.

Plays Well With Others....

This was passed along by a friend at work and I found it a lesson in cooperative planning. I don't swear to the veracity of the tale. Simply that it could have happened.

Seems a young woman was getting married and after days of shopping, her mother finally found the most absolutely lovely dress to wear to the wedding. It fit her well and she looked wonderful in it. She showed her daughter the dress and both agreed it was perfect for the Mother of the Bride to wear.

When the bride-to-be mentioned the dress to her future mother in law, she was stunned to learn that her fiance's mother had bought the exact same outfit to wear. When she was very sweetly asked if she wouldn't find another dress the groom's mother said, "No, I won't do it. The dress looks great on and I look gorgeous in it."

Upset, the young woman went to her mother and told her that the groom's mother was planning to wear a duplicate of the special dress. Her mother reassured her, "Don't worry dear, we won't let anything spoil your wedding - I'll find another dress to wear!"

The two women hugged and the daughter told her mother she'd go with her to return the dress and help her shop for another. "Don't be silly dear", her mother laughed, "I'm not going to return that dress."

"You're not? But, what will you do with it?"

The mother replied, "I'm going to wear it to the Rehearsal Dinner!"

Go Gators?

It's football season. For some, the only team is the one from University of Florida at Gainesville. These folks live and breathe the Florida Gators. They bleed orange and blue. There was rejoicing when the first game was handily won. Bets were paid - one guy had to wear a "special hat" to work the day after game day. Okay, I like Tim Tebow. I think he's a fine young man who has a wonderful Christian testimony. Doesn't mean I'd paint my face orange with blue stripes.

One of our grandsons had an appointment to see the doctor in Gainesville this afternoon. His mother took him because he sustained an injury a few weeks back and was still having pain and difficulty moving and rotating his left elbow. The doctor read the x-rays and examined Matthew - he compared the right elbow to the left and explained to Matthew's mom that he saw where a small area of the growth plate had sustained a fracture and while the bruising was gone, there was still inflammation in the area. He recommended a cast for two or three weeks to immobilize the joint and give the elbow a chance to heal. Sounded like a plan so off they went to get the cast on. Matthew was inclined comfortably and the inner cushioning layers applied. Next came the outside casting material. Mother and brother watched as color choices were made and applied. No green and orange - sorry, University of Miami. No aqua and orange - sorry, Jaguars or Dolphins. A guy has to be loyal to his team. Matthew came away sporting an orange and blue striped full cast. At first he didn't realize that he wouldn't be able to bend his arm freely. He was surprised, as the resin hardened - to find that he couldn't move his arm at all. That presented another problem as well. Never having worn a cast, he didn't realize that one swipe could do some real damage if he connected with another human being.

His mother said he almost swatted the nurse as she helped him out of the chair.

He came to see T. and me after I got home from work. We were at the dining room table and heard someone at the side door. T. went to open it and in walked Matthew, Nathan and Sarah. Matthew came over and proudly placed his cast on the back of my chair and then he took a marking pen out of his shirt pocket and asked me if I'd like to sign it. When I said sure, he raised his arm off the chair and nearly knocked out his own grandmother! He didn't touch me and I'm sure he'll quickly get used to the thing, but it was like being in a Gator game. You know, all the dodging and juking while the orange and blue came my way!

The Good Old Days

I recall when the easiest way to communicate was to send a card or a letter to someone. I remember our Great Aunt Pat from Georgia who used to write to our Mom regularly - in pencil on thin white sheets of paper. Mom kept several of those letters and after the aunt had died we read them over and over. They were sweetly worded and ended with love to the family.

Lately I've joined a couple of what's popularly known as Social Networking websites. You can communicate online but it somehow doesn't feel the same as sitting down and writing an old fashioned letter to someone. It's easier to Tweet or Twitter or post to Facebook or MySpace than it is to sit down and write a personal letter to just one person. You can play games on some sites. Be a Farmer. Be a Mafioso. We're just grazing the surface when we send a 140 character notice about what we're doing. And the more online friends we have the less we have to work to keep in touch. Just post an update and go on to something else.

In a way, those letters from Aunt Pat were little treasures in time and space. A sharing of what was in her mind when she thought about us. She left a little legacy of love whenever she wrote to us.

Hey, I just want to say that I love you guys. Let me find a pen and some paper!

Technologically Challenged?

It's a Sunday. It was supposed to be a day of rest. We were getting ready for church. T. had his shower and dressed but hadn't combed his hair or put on his shoes and socks. I was sitting at the computer (the slow clunky dial up model that doesn't always want to cooperate any more) trying to follow the on-screen instructions to update an error in T's new cell phone programming. When I logged onto his account and saw the words Programming Error, fear struck me right in the brain. It trickled down to my fingertips so that I couldn't quite follow directions. It took me two tries per screen to get things fixed.

Now, considering that I just bought this marvel of a TracFone yesterday at the local Wally-world and after purchase, the salesman had offered to activate the phone while I finished shopping -would you expect to see a programming error? He told me he only needed about 10 minutes to complete the procedure. I thought that sounded good and the guy seemed to know what he was doing so, entrusting the little silver phone to his keeping, I went off to find T. and run the checkout gauntlet. Groceries purchased and packed in the basket, we wound our way back to the phone section and I could see the salesman yonder at the register. He sort of ignored us as we approached and as we drew closer, I heard him tell the other person at the register that a lady was coming back to get her phone and for the other salesperson to make sure she gave the customer her the phone and card for minutes. Then the salesman sort of half turned on his way out of the register area, spotted us and said, There She Is! He kept walking away while he told the other salesperson the phone was on the counter and to be sure to finish the entry. (What? I guess it time for his break or something?) The remaining salesperson sidled over and asked me what was it I was supposed to pick up. I indicated the phone lying behind her. She bundled it into the packaging and bagged it up and thrust it towards me when I dangled the receipt in front of her. I told her I had also purchased a card for 200 minutes and it was probably still in the shopping bag on the counter behind her. She turned and took the card out of the bag and started to scratch off the silver area over the numbers. I told her the salesman had told me I didn't need to add minutes until after we were sure the phone would fit our needs. That way the card for 200 minutes could be returned if the phone wasn't what we needed. She bagged and handed me the phone and minutes card.

Once home, T. agreed he could use the phone and went and put it in the bedroom where he could locate it again. That evening the minutes card was pulled out of the bag and used, by my visiting daughter - to add 200 extra minutes to the 10 minutes the phone came with. We noticed right away that the silvered area had already been scratched off by the saleslady, therefore rendering the minutes non-returnable as the salesman had said they could be. That may have been the first inkling the phone setup wasn't as promised by the salesman. But, since all seemed well, we put the phone away again and I went to bed with a clear mind. No worries, mate.

This morning I went to the TracFone website and entered the passwords to magically get me in - and was notified there was a programming error (see above passage re: fear strikes brain) and I would need to turn on the phone before clicking Continue. Seems that the somebody who originally programmed the phone used the wrong codes and hadn't set the phone up to receive the new minutes we had entered the evening before. I was able to overcome trembling fingers and after the two tries got the proper codes entered so that the additional minutes showed up.

One feature the salesman had touted was that the phone will automatically double whatever minutes are installed. And, now it does.

We put in our card for 200 minutes last night. When the programming problem was finally corrected this morning, the phone showed 400 minutes. Oh, wow, this thing is a durn genius! It also announces on-screen that the minutes expire in February of 2010. Next year!

What a wonderful little phone. I just hope we can find it when we need to add some more time. We're currently searching for a little red AT&T flip phone that has about 100 minutes on it. We turned it off and T. said he'd put it away so we would know where it was.

That was the last time either of us saw it!

Someone I've Seen in Passing

This morning as I was driving to work, the radio announcer, sounding subdued for the time of day - said that there was some terrible news happening in our county and that, while the station didn't have confirmation of any deaths, there was an accident at an intersection. He mentioned the county roads and I sort of got a chill. You know, the goose walking over your grave feeling. I started to call Son-In-Law to see if he got the boys safely delivered to school and then realized the intersection was some miles north and east of where he (or they) would be. I let it go, with a quick little "Lord be with them" and went on my way to work. I didn't think much more about it. It would cross my mind and then slide away, what with the busy telephones and paperwork to be done. It was such an intense announcement - as though there was more to it than a simple wreck, but the full story couldn't be told right then.

T. called me in the afternoon to say that the lady around the corner had just called to tell him that her next door neighbor's son and a friend had both been killed in a wreck this morning while riding motorcycles. At the moment he called, some of my co-workers were talking - trying to remember who the victims were.

Everything came together at once. The names of the victims. The man on our corner whose son rides a motorcycle. Law Enforcement came early and told the family. The man on the radio had it right, it was terrible news. When I came home this evening, there were several cars in the yard on the corner. The grandmother lives just behind, in a house of her own and there were cars there, too. Friends gather. People pray and take food. This is a small town and that's what neighbors do. I'll ask T. if he thinks we can take down a fruit platter to the grandmother. She sat on our porch one day when she locked herself out of her house. It was raining and she walked down to use our phone. She sat in a rocker waiting until her friend came with a spare key. T. said she was nice

Same old. New old

I mentioned before that I used to work in a facility that had a pungent rat odor about it. It was solid red brick and two stories tall. Years ago it had been the county jail. In fact, most people knew the place by its designation of The Old Jail. We used it for office space. I wish I had taken a photograph of the place but the closest I can come is an overhead from the Property Appraiser. The front entrance would be down toward the bottom of the lowest building in the red outlined area. Behind that stood a generator building and the antenna and then the top building was a storage area.. Yesterday I met my daughter at a nearby hospital to sit with one grandson while the other went to x-ray. When we left the hospital, I drove her to her car which was parked down the road. Sitting in the lot, I glanced towards the building I had worked in for so long.

I didn't recognize it. You could have knocked me over with a feather! The entire building was clad in a light shade of stucco and the outside appearance was so changed I had a little trouble finding the windows of my former offices. The building is close to a lake where the county sets off Fourth of July fireworks every year. We used to be able to go up to the office and get out on the flat rooftop to watch the display every year. Now the open roofing is gone and the second floor sports a lovely covered porch. The front stairs have been entirely turned around although the entry door looks approximately in the same area. The front of the building faces left in the photograph. Rumor has it that the interior was gutted to the inside brick and completely redone. I'd think the odor of rat would be eliminated. The ginormous antenna is still out back and that's about the only thing recognizable.

You can depend on it. If you ignore something for a few years, it will morph into something entirely different.

The grandson will be okay. We try not to ignore anything really important!

A Great Big You're Welcome!

There is a person in the organization where I work who deals with peope who are victims. She is a recent graduate of the higher halls of learning but totally skilled and capable of handling the requirements of her chosen field. When she was hired, I hadn't realized she was going to have a baby. She's petite and really wasn't showing - plus nobody said anything so who would have guessed. Then, a couple of months ago, she went to the ER and was safely delivered of a lovely-but-tiny girl. She had only been into maternity wear a couple of weeks which was my first clue! The baby came a bit early but was born healthy.

The young lady hadn't had much time to earn sick-leave so she was kind of in dire need of some donations from her co-workers for maternity leave. I gave her some of my hours. So did others. Two weeks ago she came back to work and we held a welcome back to work-baby shower, combined. It was a fun thing and mostly she got some very cute outfits and blankets. I gave a baby book with a matching photo album and a toy that lights up and plays a lilting tune when you squeeze the tummy. It was kind of hard to tell what it was, since it was all pink. It had a bug face, so I'm thinking dragonfly.

Today, I got a thank you for the baby shower gift - a clear plastic box with Hershey Kisses nestled inside on a bed of tissue and tied with a silver ribbon. Under the clear box was a white cardboard box wrapped in a blue ribbon. Inside that box was a Ferro Rocher truffle and three fun-size candies. This was a thank you for the time I donated.

I will say I quite like the way the new mommy said thank you. It was done very low key. She didn't make a big production of things, but we managed a neck-hug. She reminds me of her own mother, with whom I worked several years back when I first came to the agency. She was always a class act and I enjoyed her friendship until she left; giving a general explanation to most but privately citing a more particular reason to those of us she was close to. Now the daughter follows in her mother's footsteps. It's going to be fun to watch for glints of the mother shining through in the actions of the daughter.

The World Has Changed Since....

I was looking in my wallet the other day in response to someone asking if I had a stamp. You know, that little piece of paper that sticks to an envelope and allows it to go through the mail. I realized that I now do most of my bill paying online. I rarely need to mail something and my stash of Forever Stamps was used up.

Wasn't that a short-lived idea; those Liberty Bell Forever Stamps. They lasted just long enough for the postal service people to realize that folks were buying them in droves and that the next rate hike would bring a lot of confusion as they would be delivering mail at the new higher rate but doing it with stamps that were possibly purchased at the lower rate. Since the stamps would look exactly the same, how would the Post Office know when they had made a profit. I can hear them now, "Mumble-mumble-put-the-prices-back-on-mumble...."

I remember when the mailman rode his bike through the neighborhood where we grew up. He came rain or shine and wore a pith helmet and shorts. The bike had a huge basket where his case sat. He called my parents Mr. and Mrs. and the letters were delivered with stamps that cost less than ten or fifteen cents. After the mail cart came into being and was widely used to deliver mail, the postman would zip from house to house - up one side of the block and down the other. One hardly had time to talk to him, much less gripe about the rising cost of stamps. We now knew the mailman by his first name.

Over the years, the cost of gas made driving a postal cart more expensive and so the mailman on our route was instructed to park the cart and walk at the beginning of the route. This was supposed to save money - the cart would be left to idle in neutral while the carrier toted a bag with our mail from box to box up one front walk and then another. The cost of stamps inched higher. I have a brother who became a mailman. He tells a horror story of parking his cart and starting to walk the route. The cart was sitting in neutral. He was down the block and heard a resident calling him, "Sir, sir - your cart. Your cart!" The clutch had slipped and the cart was slowly chugging toward a canal across the road. Brother made it to the cart in time to save the mail from a dunking. Postage rates went up and up and then the computer became all pervasive in society.

I don't know when I paid the first bill using a computer but the freedom was heady. No more 32 cent stamps to mail 10 envelopes. Nowadays about the only thing I pay by mail is a magazine subscription or two. At the price of stamps today, I feel like I'm doing my part to keep the Post Office afloat. I send money by mail and then they deliver the Digest or Country Living for the next 12 months. I may even ease into mailing birthday cards again, instead of posting an eGreeting. We'll see how it goes.

Blackberries

There are two kinds of Blackberries in the world. One kind grows on PLANTS along our fence and is the favorite of many people to sprinkle over their cereal or just plop in the mouth as they pick a handful. My husband's mother loved to gather a cup full of the little gems and eat them with a dollop of milk poured over the whole. She couldn't believe the bounty on all sides of the yard and would go out before the dew had dried to harvest enough for her breakfast. One note of caution, the plants are full of briers and will tangle around an ankle with painful results. I use my old boots when walking in an area heavily overgrown with blackberry plants.

The other variety of BLACKBERRY is an electronic handheld device that is in wide use where I work and makes life easier - or harder, depending on your level of experience and willingness to learn. The supervisory level at work had their Blackberries provided. Lower in the agency - you buys your own. When I upgraded my AT&T phone, I got a Blackberry Curve. A red one. I kept the Unlimited Data Plan and Internet. I can be driving down the highway and there may be a message from one of my children - or a co-worker or a boss. (In the interest of safety I don't read or reply while I'm driving and you shouldn't either!)

I like the ability to keep in touch while on the go. A family member who is travelling can send a text message to signal a safe arrival. Or call for help and driving directions. And you can take a picture of the countryside and send a message to include a shot of where you are now.

Just today, I saw a great suggestion for family safety. You know about Amber Alerts; those messages sent out to tell the public about abducted or missing children. (You can get Amber Alerts sent to your phone, how cool is that!) Someone suggested that a family who is travelling can take a photograph of the children before setting out for the day. That way, if anything untoward happens - say a child gets separated from the group, you have the very latest picture to give law enforcement or mall security and it is up-to-date, including the clothing description. At the end of the day, the old pictures can be deleted and another set taken before setting out again. Now you can carry a current picture of your family whenever you leave home! I wish I'd thought of that!