The well has run dry

I'm taking a break.  Love you all, and thank you for your support over the years.  Be well.

Cheers.

The flag was still there

We are coming up on the 4th of July, AND it's the 250th anniversary of our democratic republic.  Everyone and their brother has flags on their houses to celebrate.  

We have a Pride sign stuck in the ground in the front for all our conservative neighbors to see as they drive by.  We also put our flag out.  We don't want the jerks to think this country only belongs to the haters.

We mowed and edged the front yard on Monday morning.  Then there was a thunderstorm in early afternoon.  Tom went out in early evening and when he came back he told me the flag was gone.  The flag attaches to a metal pole that fits into a second metal pole that sticks into a gizmo onto the front of the house.  The flag and the first pole were gone.  The second pole was still in the gizmo.  Tom assumed the winds had blown the flag away, but there was no sign of it throughout the neighborhood.  We looked.

Because I am both imaginative and paranoid, I was sure someone stole our flag.  I yanked the second pole out of the gizmo, brought it inside and put it next to the bed.  We've been rewatching Game of Thrones.  Arya is my hero, so I was imagining how I might use some of her moves to stop the intruders who I was sure would come back to finish us off.  I thought I might hold it high with both hands and then jam it through their eye.  

Today Tom went to the store.  When he parked and was getting out of the car he looked up and saw that damn flag up on the roof!  He got the ladder and brought it down.  It is now reinstalled out front.  

I hate it when he's right and I'm wrong.  And now I have nothing next to my bed to defend us against intruders.  

Funny names

In the course of my frenetic genealogical research, I often come across funny old names.  The other day I came across a man named Preserved Fish, who was born in 1679 in Rhode Island.  It gave me pause.  

His mother's name was Grizigan Strange.

Turns out Preserved's family were some of the original settlers in Portsmouth, RI, and there are about 10 people in his line named Preserved Fish.  One is famous enough to be in Wikipedia. It says this other Preserved (b. 1766) "was an American businessman who was a prominent New York City shipping merchant in the early 19th century."

The name "Preserved" was pronounced Pre Zer Ved - three syllables, and it means preserved from sin.  

Today I came across a man named Fearnot.  His brother was named Return. I love this stuff!  

a tree of life quilt I made a long time ago for my husband

How am I doing?

Robbie from Tone Deaf recently asked how I was doing amidst the current U.S. regime? I'm tired of the meanness, and anxious about the future. 

It seems like nearly every day some bizarre order comes from above and changes something that makes things worse. I believe there is a "plan" that is moving forward like a construction roller to destroy this Democratic Republic. The plan is driven by wealth and greed not just inside the U.S., but from all corners of the globe. Women, people of color, LBGTQ people, the poor, and immigrants are under siege and losing freedoms. It will continue to get worse if not stopped by the Congressional elections in November. One wonders if there will even BE elections in November.

Our educational system has failed us, and the country is filled with ignorant sheep who gleefully admire tyranny. Hatred is the Mode au jour. Criminals rule.  

Our buffoonish leader "Pure Evil" spends our tax dollars on gauche vanity projects. He destroys and cheapens the sacred spaces of our government, wants to build massive gold encrusted monstrosities. He tries to "brand" our buildings and our currency with his hateful name. It's almost funny. If it was a movie I would laugh out loud. But this, my friends, is real life. 

Still I hold out hope. Remarkably, the Pope is currently more popular in the U.S.A. than that ruler of ours I like to refer to as "Pure Evil." I call him that because I am afraid to write his name. That's how bad things are.

Thinking about mathematics

I have so much time to think in my dotage. The thoughts I have delight me because one thing leads to another. Old memories are more fresh in my mind than what I had for dinner last night. Surely remembering is the best aspect of aging?  

Here's a thought: I wish I had taken more math in school.  I spent most of my work life using math for accounting and budgeting.  Not because that work was my heart's desire, but because it came my way and I was good at it.  Plus, it was fun. Consequently, I can add, subtract, multiply, and divide.  However, I never quite learned to think mathematically.  If I could go back in time, I would have paid more attention to those math story problems that seemed so boring.  I think I was just lazy.  

Here are two pictures of a pair of painted buntings visiting our feeder.  

I was texting with an old friend the other day. She and her husband have a number of ailments worthy of complaint, but that's not her style. Oh we did complain; yes, we did. But not about physical ailments. I'm the one who goes for the gold when complaining about aches and pains, not her.

We talked about our practical fears of dying before our spouse, how would they manage? And what if they die first, how will we manage? Order the largest garbage bin to our driveway and start chucking the precious junk in? Sell the house, move to a retirement community? Preferably one without a lawn to mow and an on-site handy person to fix things. Could it be community of oldsters filled with old women who want to drink pink cocktails and laugh? That would do. Yes, probably that's what I would choose if such a life exists. 

But what would he do? I'm afraid he's not as adaptable as I am. I don't want him to be sad and alone. We didn't speak of how sad and lonely we would be if we lost them. That's intensely private and we simply couldn't go there. Not yet.

Then there is all our "stuff." For the most part, younger people don't really want old things. They may as they age, but then it will be too late. Truthfully, I care less and less about my things. My family can sell everything, make some money, live their lives.  It is the things they will do that matter, not the things they have.  

We ended our long texting with vows to throw things away.  I filled one garbage bag with superfluous junk and then had a house dust related allergy attack and stopped.  

Some photos with happier subject matter:

I'm still here

I'm still here.  I have been reluctant to write for a number of reasons: 

First, I haven't felt creative.  

Second, we suffered the loss of a family member.  Not to death, mind you.  A rejection based on complex family dynamics. Anyway, it took the wind out of my sails for a long time. It is what it is. Onward and upward, right?

Oh, and Third, I've been obsessed with raising the rating on my ancestry.com tree, the one with over 60,000 people in it.  If you remember, in April 2025 I discovered it had a 7.9 rating because of lack of documentation. It is now up to 9.4.  If I can bring it up to 9.6, it will be rated a "top tree." I'm so sick of "documenting" and researching dead people. I dream about them. When I had pneumonia last fall, I was often in a half-sleep, watching names and facts scroll by one after another in my mind. When I'm finally done with this project, I will feel reborn. 

Cheers!

Less green I see

That hard frost last month really kicked my psychological rear end.  The mango tree doesn't seem like it's going to come back.  The dwarf poinciana was just starting to leaf out, and now (almost two months later) there is no sign of life. We pulled out two huge ixora and will miss their constant flowering.  The bougainvillea are bare and bony.  We disagree on what to do about that.  I say cut it way back and either it survives or not.  Tom is less violent than me.   

I cut the crotons back, and one of the plants has new sprouts, but at the bottom.  I fear 12 years of growth is lost and we must start again. Sheesh! I'm not sure I even have 12 more years. The cabbage palms (native) survived just fine, but I notice some of the more exotic palms in other yards are still brown and limp. I'm beginning to understand these Southern plants a little after 12 years of befuddlement and wonder.  They are not meant for that kind of cold, and they like a little sand in the soil. How should I proceed to replace the dead, not knowing if the hard freeze was a fluke or a portent of things to come?  Native plants!

Gardening is different down here. I lived in the north for 62 years, and I appreciated the death and rebirth of the flora. I enjoyed and then managed the cold and snow as one must. Spring was pure magic as old friends poked up through the soil. They were hardy, magnificent, and I trusted them to come back.  Like I said, it is different here in Central Florida.  Still, the bromeliads, azaleas and cannas survived!  Actually, quite a bit might grow back, and it has been fun reimagining some of these garden beds.  I need to trust a bit more.  Everything is going to be okay.  

a bromeliad bloom

Changing people's minds

When I was an employee union organizer a million years ago, I was taught that there are two kinds of belief systems.  

One is rational/intellectual.  If you provide the proof and facts, then you can change the mind of a person like this.  

The other kind of belief system is simply belief - not based on facts, just based on what a person “believes” in their heart to be true because of how they were raised, or taught, or just want to believe.  This is the tough one - you have to grab people like this by the heart in order to change their minds.  It hard because it upends their entire belief system, and they don’t necessarily want that to change.  

Persuasion is very tricky, and requires a lot of listening and appealing to other parts of their belief system (love, faith, and other non-rational beliefs that guard their mind from change.)  

Cold

It is actually cold in Central Florida right now. It was 26 degrees F (-3 degrees C) when I woke up this morning at 8:00. I have yet to do the walk around to see what survived this bitter night, but the azalea's out the back door look pretty sad. The flowers are on the ground, or hanging limp. They are spent. We'll see if the buds are lost over the next week.  

Still, I remember the first killing frost of years gone by in Upstate New York.  Everything was beautifully alive in the evening and frozen dead the next morning.  This wasn't that.  

Cookies be damned!

We did Christmas. It went well, and hopefully we'll do it again next year.  

Seriously, it was lovely.  There were plenty of sweets, and good meals.  There are still absurd amounts of cookies left over, but there is also ham.  

I have this fantasy of throwing all the cookies away and reclaiming my life. Honestly, I've been fairly good about limiting my Christmas cookie consumption this year. I know myself, though. I could break down any minute and start eating non-stop. Thankfully I had blood drawn last month. Although I seem healthy, sugar is high and protein is low. I am trying to behave. I want to behave. Maybe this year I actually will?

I sent my Christmas present boxes to family and friends this year.  I included those little cocktail umbrellas and fake leis in the boxes.  I think the umbrellas were the biggest hit with young and old.  

Here's one of my friends without a face

Still working on my tree.

It isn't our Christmas tree I'm still working on. That can wait! It's that damn family tree of mine on ancestry.com. If you remember, I wrote a post last summer about the rating on my ridiculously large family tree. In early April it was only rated 7.9. I was mortified!  I vowed to bring it up to 9.1.  

I work on it almost every day. Sometimes for hours. There were nearly 64,000 people in it when I started "fixing things." At that time there were about 45,000 people who had issues needing to be resolved, duplicates merged, finding real proof for documentation, or fixing errors. I have to confess, I had no real concept of fixing 45,000 profiles when I started. I just know I've given it my all for 8 months and I have only touched half of those profiles.  

I have deleted 4,000 people who really have no real relationship to me, I just added them because I'm a fiend.  

As of today, my rating for that tree is 9.0. I still have 23,249 people profiles to resolve if I want a perfect rating. Yep, 23,249! Sheesh. As if! When I reach my goal of 9.1 (any freaking day now!), I will be happy.  

I say that trying to convince myself. This is the most fun I've had in many years. I'll never stop.

My mother's tree in 1970

Thanksgiving 2025

I spent 3 days preparing for this holiday. That sounds like I worked myself to death, but I didn't. I stretched out the cleaning, cooking, baking over 3 full days. It worked out well, plus I was then able to enjoy the process. Our daughter brought the dessert and her own stuffing (gluten free), so that helped. Of course, as a retiree I actually had the time to stretch it all out. That's one of the things I was thankful for this year.   

I'm thankful as well for our small family which is not perfect by any means. We are each quirky in our own ways, but we come together with love and acceptance of each other's quirkiness. Personally, I appreciate that lack of judgement, because I'm a bit much. As Carlene Carter once sang, "We are the lucky ones."  

Out and about

You wouldn't know it to look at me, but my husband and I try to get exercise of some kind most days. Maybe we ride our bikes, take a walk, or work in the yard. Occasionally, we'll go to Cosco and pretend that's exercise because it's so damn big to walk around in. 

In the hot half of the year we go out in the morning, as early as we are able, to avoid the intense heat and potential skin damage. At this time of the year we can enjoy our mornings being self-indulgent because it's cool enough to go outside in midday or later. I'm not a morning person, so I prefer the cooler half of the year.

Yesterday we went for a walk at the nature preserve and I took these pictures.

Turtle

Many things on or near the lake

Roots

Vulture

I'm not sure what this is

Lantana

Looks like deadly nightshade to me

What does it take?

I know this world is filled with hate and meanness, but that's only half of it. We exist in duality and we need to also imagine a better world and work to make it better. We can all do something to elevate humanity, to change the world. 

Some have the means to run for office, or give millions to help the poor. Some of us can't. But don't despair, small acts of kindness make a difference, too. There are so many things we could easily do to make the world a better place. Most are not flashy, but it all adds up. Contribute to a food bank. Use less plastic. Vote blue. Don't allow family or friends make racist or sexist remarks in your house. Take a stand. What else?

Patty Smith on the Late Show a few nights ago!!!

Religious prejudice

I come from a long line of working-class Catholics (mother's side) and Protestants (father's side). My paternal grandmother was first a Baptist, but joined a Pentecostal church later. She could talk in tongues and taught bible study for children. Cool, but kinda scary.

My Tennessee Grandma was the best person I ever knew. She told me that she once chased the devil out of her house because he was trying to turn her against Jesus. Yeah, I know, sounds a little fanciful. I'll tell you what, though, if anyone could pull off a caper like that it was her.

She was a die hard Democrat until JFK ran for president - my Grandpa made them both switch to Republican because he hated Catholics. She was raised to submit to her husband as the head of the household. Plus, I'm sure her pastor was raising (un)holy hell over a Catholic trying to get elected president.

Scotch Irish Appalachians have hated Papists since John Knox left the priesthood to follow John Calvin in the 16th century. The Reformation was sadly necessary because of the corruption of 16th century Catholicism. In fact, the Catholics reciprocated and behaved just as badly. Wars were fought, people killed, men glorified, women diminished. If there turns out to be a divine force we call God, I'm sure s/he is perfect. People are not, though. I can't put my faith in religion. Faith is too precious and important for man-made constructs.

It hurt my heart to realize Grandpa hated Catholics, because at time I was a soft hearted Catholic school girl. Grandma found ways to let us know she knew Catholics were still Christian, and that Grandpa was too harsh. Grandma's God was a loving God. Grandpa's was a God of fire and brimstone. As a fully indoctrinated Catholic, this made me think about the limitations of dogma at the tender age of 9. I expanded my concept of spirituality because I loved my Grandma. I found ways to let her know she wouldn't go to Limbo* for not being baptized Catholic, ha. It's ridiculous looking back on these religious prejudices. It's hard to believe they still exist, but I'm afraid they do.

It's the nature of our reality that evil has always existed in this world, and always will. We have to choose to walk away from it in our own lives, but it still exists out there. Sometimes people are fooled if they don't exercise their mind and search for the truth. Grandma might have voted for Donald Trump the first time, because he pretended to be anti-abortion and folks were preaching conservative politics from the pulpit. However, I'm confident she would not have supported him a second time. Why? Because he's a liar and a cheat. He's filled with hate and tries to spread it around. Grandma knew the difference between good and evil.

Sometimes good people come together, regardless of 
propoganda, dogma, or belief systems

*Limbo re Wikipedia: "The unofficial term Limbo /ˈlɪmboʊ/ (from Latin limbus 'edge, boundary', referring to the edge of Hell) is the afterlife condition in medieval Catholic theology, of those who die in original sin without being assigned to the Hell of the Damned."

Paying Forward

I went to the grocery store the other day. I had about $116 worth of food, and went to the check-out lane. A friendly older woman was working the register, and the bagger was a high school boy. We exchanged pleasantries, and then it was time to pay. I reached into my purse to pay and in horror realized I didn't have my credit card. As you can imagine, I was distraught. 

I told them I only lived about 10 minutes away and asked if they could put my bags in the cooler until I returned with my card. They were very sweet to me, but I was humiliated.  

Suddenly, a woman in the next check-out lane walked over and announced she would pay. I tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted. She told me to consider myself blessed. What can one do when confronted by an actually good religious person? I pulled the 3 packages of Halloween candy out of the cart and asked the bagger if he could put them back for me. I would accept her kindness, but I wasn't going to take advantage. I joked that she was for sure going to heaven for this act of kindness, and she laughed. I thanked her profusely, as one does when they are embarrassed. I promised her I would "pay it forward" and do the same for someone else. 

The very next day I returned to buy the Halloween candy. The woman in front of me in the check-out couldn't get her card to work, and was upset. Something was wrong. I uneasily recognized her humiliation. I stepped up and paid her bill. It was $118, almost the same as mine from the previous day. When she tried to dissuade me, I told her my own story and that the amount was virtually the same. She accepted and promised to pay it forward. Wow!   

And if you think this is all about the goodness of white people, think again. The only white people in this narrative were me and the high school boy.  

No Kings, Clermont, Lake County, Florida, 18Oct2025

Me, sitting down on a picnic table in the
back, because I had pneumonia a few
weeks ago.

 

Feeling better

Yesterday was my last antibiotic.  I'm feeling better, but I am Oh So Tired!  I suspect it will be weeks before I feel like myself again.  In the meantime, I sleep.  

Sick and tired

I've been sick for over a week now.  Nothing major, but started with chills, slight fever, fatigue.  I tested negative for both flu and COVID, but still it hung on.  After 5 days I went to a clinic, who determined me dehydrated and sent me to the hospital's ER.  There they hooked me up to an IV of fluids, and started doing bloodwork, scans, etc.  A chest x-ray revealed a spot of infection in my right upper chest which they determined was pneumonia.  This is how my poor mind remembers it all anyway.  I actually had an EKG that I can't even remember having. Which is strange, because I never really felt out of it. I remember the chest x-ray, and I remember a CT Scan. But I don't remember the EKG.  So, I could be explaining it wrong, but this is the best I can do with a muddy mind.  

Pneumonia is a scary word, and for good reason. But if mine were a bad case, they would have admitted me to the hospital.  I'm taking it as a good sign that they sent me home. 

I'm definitely getting better after a few days of antibiotics.  Staying hydrated!!!  I never thought I'd say this, but I look forward to feeling well enough to clean my house.