coming out of my shell

coming out of my shell

Friday, May 19, 2017

Bizzaro World


It feels like summer now to this northern transplant, but it isn't. Summer is yet to come. Summer is a whole other kettle of fish in Central Florida.

After my Mother's Day post, I cannot stop thinking about my mother, especially in this heat. Mom hated the heat and humidity of summer. I can just see her in my mind, sighing and sweating. She preferred the cold, northern winter. I am the opposite. I hate the cold. It chills me to the bone.

However, I've said this before. From June through September it is too damn hot to be outside in the afternoon down here. Our lives are very different since we moved to Central Florida. Now we hibernate in the summer rather than the winter. I am absolutely not complaining. It is neither better nor worse. It's all good! I am simply marveling at how different one place can be from another.

We DO have two vegetable planting seasons. How cool is that? Mom would have loved it. I do, too. She always had a veggie garden, and she used Rotenone like it was going out of style. She was of the "why weed when you can spray?" opinion. I figure that is why she developed Parkinson's Disease. Sigh. There was no telling that stubborn woman anything she didn't WANT to believe.

One planting takes place in October, for things like beets, broccoli, carrots, cauliflower, lettuce, spinach, radishes. Everything else we plant in late February or early March. We have been eating juicy tomatoes from raised beds since late April. 

We grow basil almost all year round (lotsa pesto!). Our perennial herbs are always available. Hmmm, I don't think Mom ever used or grew fresh herbs, except when she made dill pickles. I can picture her kitchen table covered with mason jars, cukes, and sprigs of dill weed. It was one of the things she and my Dad did together. They also made grape jelly, sauerkraut, and put up innumerable quarts of tomatoes. Food was important in my mother's house, and we ate well.

Living in this beautiful, relentlessly sunny place is almost like living in bizzarro world, or in upside down land. However, I'm goin' with the flow. The politics sometimes stink, but every day is beautiful. I am grateful to be right here experiencing big changes in my life, at my age, in these times. No matter how long one lives, life is too short. I try to live my life with joy, and I do NOT use Rotenone. I like reaching into the earth and yanking a skanky weed out by its roots. It feels like a personal victory.

Here are some things in our small veggie garden this morning:


Orange grape tomatoes - they always make me happy


Zucchini blossom, such a tease


Japanese eggplant and parsley
Basil, patient and true

Sunday, May 14, 2017

In My Mother's Day


This is my second Mother’s Day without my Mom.  She had her weaknesses, as we all do; but now I only remember her strength. She was often resourceful and independent.

In March 1964, when I was 12, we moved back to Northern Indiana after a 3-year interlude in the Pacific Northwest. My Mom wanted to go "home" where she had family. There were 6 kids in 1964, and none of us wanted to leave. However, we had to go. My Dad flew back ahead of us to begin work at his new job and get things settled for our arrival. Mom single-handedly packed and shipped our belongings, and we set out in an old 1958 Ford station wagon for the Promised Land.  My oldest sister was a senior in high school with only 3 more months to finish. She stayed with a friend’s family until after graduation.

My Mom drove 2,225 miles from Seattle, Washington to Northern Indiana with 5 kids between the ages of 2 and 14, and a cat, in that car. The two youngest were still in diapers. We drove down Washington State to Oregon, eastward to Idaho and Wyoming, through the Rocky Mountains. After that we traveled through the flatlands of Nebraska, Iowa, and Illinois. Northern Indiana was home. My mother had always been fearless, but never more than on that epic journey when she took us home.

We didn’t stop at restaurants - too expensive. Back then, people didn't really eat at restaurants as casually as we do now. We stopped at small groceries and ate sandwiches at rest stops. Once, when we stopped to eat, the cat got out of the car and ran away into the farmer’s fields that were ubiquitous along the highway. We loved that cat, and looked long and hard. Eventually, Mom said we had to go. We were shattered as we silently drove away. However, a couple miles down the road Mom inexplicably turned the car around and went back for the cat. It was a heroic decision, and this time the darn cat had the good sense to come when called. We were more careful about keeping her safe after that.

Large chain motels didn't exist in the early 60’s to my recollection. Instead, motels were small and unique, “Mom and Pop” businesses. I remember staying overnight at one motel with a series of small, one-room cabins lined up next to each other. We all stayed in that one room. It took us 7 days to get to Indiana. The car broke down in Plainview, Nebraska. We stayed at a motel for two days while it got fixed. It was fun. We were not in school and it was mid-March. That felt strange in the middle of the semester, knowing that kids all over the country were in school leading normal lives. I felt like an outlaw on the run. It was a bit disconcerting, but exciting.

Towards the end of the trip, we started running out of money. There were no ATM’s or credit cards. Mom had a certain amount of cash, and that’s all we had to get where we were going. One night she decided to save money by not renting a motel room. Instead we all slept in the car: toddlers, tween, teenagers, mother, and cat. She parked late at night in a gas station parking lot, intending on gassing up the car when we woke the next morning. It was a cold night and, dontcha know, the car engine froze up. Early the next morning the car would not start. The owner lived above the gas station’s garage. We banged hard and long on his door to wake him up so he could come out and help us, which he did. At first he was angry, but when he saw the sorry lot who woke him up he softened. He helped us, and he didn’t charge a dime. People can be so kind. It is important to remember that.

I remember feeling like a vagabond. At that moment, we did not belong anywhere except in that old station wagon, traveling with our brave mother. She was our home. Eventually, we arrived at our destination and went directly to my paternal grandparent’s house where we were loved and celebrated.

My Mom was amazingly strong during that trip. She was confident, determined and never complained despite the many hardships. I guess one might say she persisted. I believed she could solve any problem that came our way, because she did. I trusted her in a way I have never trusted another human being since. It was a grand adventure that provided experiences and memories I would not trade for love or money. For many years, she was everything to me. I hope I told her that. 



Friday, May 12, 2017

Back from the abyss

I can't remember the last time I had the flu, it has been that long. Today is the 12th day of sickness for me. Although I have been up and around since day 7, I am still not 100%. Even now, I would rather lie on the couch than sit up at the computer; but that just makes my back hurt. Too much of a good thing...

Liv wrote earlier this year about her own bout with Influenza B. I remember reading her blog post and thinking, "Damn, it just doesn't want to let her go!" Indeed, B is a greedy, gluttonous bitch. She enfolds you with cadaverous arms, sinks her raggedy-ass teeth in you and sucks all your vitality out while you alternate between fever and chills. After that all you want to do is sleep, apparently for weeks.

The good news is that we went to St. Augustine on day 7 of "B", once I had been fever free for 24 hours. We came home yesterday (day 11). Our daughter and her family rented a small house on Crescent Beach and we went to hang out with them. We have gone there many times in the past. It is one of my favorite places. There was no boogie board frolicking in the ocean or baking in the sun for me this time. However, I could gaze hypnotically at the ocean from the front porch, where there was also a cool ocean breeze and shade, glorious shade.


My husband, T, and son-in-law MV, both had bad head colds this week. My sweet little grandson, N, was seized by that withered bitch, Influenza B, on Monday. Our poor little man is spending his vacation on the couch in the cottage. It was the vacation house of sickness, I'm afraid. However, good times were had in spite of all that sick. What better place to be ill than at the beach, breathing the salt air?


The boardwalk from the cottage to the ocean, surrounded on either side by salt marsh plants


The moon rising over the ocean, behind a saw palmetto

A Gopher Tortoise.  There were also snakes and bunnies living in the salt marsh



I was amazed at how many different varieties of plant life could survive in the salty sand.
This sweet little cactus gets a yellow flower on top
Blanket flower (Gaillardia)?   There were also yellow beach flowers up towards the beach. I wish I had gotten a picture of those, they were lovely.





Thursday, May 4, 2017

I'm sick

I have influenza B, haven't been this sick in donkey's years.  I can't really write a long post, but I wanted to let you all know why I am relatively quiet this week.  I think I feel a little better this morning.  We'll see. 

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Blah

I'm feeling blah. I am way too focused on political stuff, and need a break. However, political stuff is all I want to focus on. It is a conundrum.  

I did take a long bike ride yesterday with the man. I only left my computer and my online moderating gig because he forced me to. This is why I keep him around. Oh yeah, and because I love him.

Here are some things one might see when one turns off the computer and leaves the house:

Red winged blackbird

Cormorants or anhingas? - they are always on this tree, or what is left of it

An osprey looking inscrutable and feigning indifference



The historic pump house at the end of the Lake Apopka Loop Trail
A big old alligator just trying to take a nap, s/he got angry I was taking this picture (from the bridge...) and got up and left.




























Here S/he is, disgusted and leaving.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Toxic People

I have a few toxic individuals in my life. You know the type. They are super needy and always perpetuating self-centered drama. Their emotions are often out of control. They zing you with sly criticisms and put-downs designed to make you look bad and them look good. You know they hate you, but they pretend they don't?

It is best to avoid them, of course. I certainly try to. But sometimes you can't. Sometimes they are co-workers, neighbors, or members of your family. Any thoughts on how to emotionally detach on those unpleasant occasions when you are unable to physically escape?


I am so tired of BS

Monday, April 17, 2017

Sleeping In?


In some ways I still have not totally adjusted to this retirement thing. For many years I got up at 5:30 a.m. I sleep until between 7:00 and 7:30 a.m. now. When I imagined retirement I expected I would sleep in luxuriously for much longer than that. Unfortunately, I still retain the working woman's anxiety mindset. When I wake up, I feel like I must GET up. I tried to stay in bed, awake, for at least 15 minutes. That was fun, but I got bored. I also tried napping a few times. Then I couldn't get to sleep at night. Let's face it. I just can't sustain the effort it takes to relax. 

Does anyone know what the flowering plant in the foreground is called?

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Semi-wordless Wednesday

I don't have much to say today.

A Blue heron on the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive

Palm leaf after a controlled burn, Wekiva Springs State Park


Palm Tree some months after a controlled burn.  Still growing.

Heron on slab at Lake Apopka Wildlife drive, crooked neck

A turkey taking the high road at Sand Lake, Wekiva Springs State Park

A palm leaf that continued to grow after a controlled burn, Wekiva Springs State Park

Turtle on log in Sand Lake, Wekiva Springs State Park, note spider web over his/her head
The swimming area at Wekiva Springs State Park.  Swimmers are supposed to stay on this side of the bridge. The water area on the far side of the bridge is for canoes and kayaks. There are alligators on the far side. A couple of years ago a swimmer swam out there and an alligator attacked her. She lost her arm. True story. The swimming area is shallow, so you would be able to see an alligator if it came there. They don't, though. I'm not sure why not.

Lubber Grasshopper on red leaf, Wekiva Springs State Park  

 
  



Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Respecting anger

Oh, I don't know. I guess I am just getting old.  I used to be a hell raiser, a loud mouthed dame ready to take on the world. I'm still ready to take on the world, but I have less energy. These days I am trying to cultivate a different approach.

I have mentioned before that I am hot-tempered. Anyone who knows me will concur. I have a decent sense of humor and I try to be affable.  However, I also have a very short fuse. Once sparked, I am off and running. That is the way of it for me. I am not bragging, I'm complaining.

People (in my real life AND on blogs) are often talking about anger right now. It is interesting how connected we are by reality. Truthfully, it is hard not to be angry in April 2017.

Let me explain the way I feel about this current reality in mytho-poetic terms: The world has run amok. Trolls and ogres have found a crack in our shields. They claw their way into this dimension driven by the demons they serve. A battle for sovereignty is being waged... Thanks for indulging me, I hope it was as fun for you as it was for me.


I
n these times of bad manners, political strife, and acrimony I feel like I am overusing anger. More to the point, I can't help but notice when I lose my temper, I lose the fight.

I'm trying to chill and use my words instead of my temper. Because I like to win.

Bad ass baby alligators






Thursday, March 30, 2017

Change is hard

In March 2014, we left New York State and started the long drive to Central Florida. Had things gone as planned, it would have been incredible. There are people for whom things go as planned, but T and I are not of that ilk.

We spent the winter downsizing, organizing, packing, and getting the NYS house in shape to sell. We went to Florida twice to find a house to buy. We put an offer down and it was accepted.  We were simply waiting for the closing, originally scheduled for late February. We put the NYS house on the market and it sold within a week.

We booked movers for March 24, before the snow melted. Over the years, we had created one beloved perennial bed after another on that quiet property, bordered by state lands. That was the hardest part for me, leaving the land. I thought it would be best to leave while the flowers were dormant and the beds were covered by snow.

Had we closed as planned, it would have been a fun move. Unfortunately, we were buying a foreclosed short sale from Fannie Mae. At the end of February they ominously postponed the closing for a month. 

Towards the end of March, two days before the movers were to arrive, we got a tearful call from our Florida realtor. Fannie Mae "just" discovered they did not have clear title to the property and they were CANCELING the sale.

We had already sold our house, all our belongings were boxed up, and we were set to get out of town before the snow melted. At THAT point we were still excited and ready to rock and roll. We decided to leave as planned (minus a clear destination) and rent a cat friendly place while we started the house search again from scratch.

We spent one week in what my husband fondly refers to as the crack motel, then moved into an old travel trailer in a RV resort. All our belongings were in storage. We stayed in that cramped little space for 3 months. W
e nearly lost our minds before we finally bought our house.

Here it is, three years later. I found my mind.

I will always miss the land and the endless variety of colorful flowers that grow up North. However, Central Florida has a different kind of beauty; subtle, primal, and wild. We have alligators, for crying out loud! It feels like home.



Some of our garden beds in Central New York

The quiet, natural beauty of a state park in Central Florida