Complete Lives

The majority of people seem to marry and produce children. When researching genealogy I wonder if their lives were meaningful or if they were happy? What's usually missing with genealogy records is the backstory.
Vital records don't tell us is who was a cheapskate, who ran off with the milkman, or who left home and never came back. Every once in a while there are stories that fill in the gaps and gives one pause.

I came across a 5th great grandfather who was a Revolutionary War soldier. He was born in Virginia about 1760, and married in 1780. He had 6 children with his wife.

He left his family prior to 1810, to live with another woman. He seems to have beat his mistress "mercilessly" on more than one occasion. Later court testimony claims she finally warned him if he did it again, she would kill him. Unfortunately, she made the mistake of warning him in front of witnesses. He "drowned" not long afterwards, in 1821.

Or maybe not. Upon examination of the body, the authorities discovered a wound "on the left breast about 3/4 of an inch in a circular form. Whatever it was which the deceased had been wounded with supposed had caused his death, passing between the ribs, none of which were fractured."

The mistress was indicted for his murder. Later she was convicted of second degree murder, and sentenced to 12 years in prison.  

His wife lived until 1840, but I found no information about her. I hope she had a good life after the old man left. 

I have no further information about his mistress, either. I feel sorry for her. A woman of her time living outside of marriage with a brutal man didn't likely have many options. And, of course, she warned him.

Women's lives are nearly invisible. It is kind of sad when only the bad guys leave a trail.

This is just an old photo I found online.  It is labelled "The Absolom Davis family".  I am  not related to this family.  I love it though. You don't often find casual old photos like this. It says a lot about these people's lives.

Knee jerk reactions, part 1: How

TRIGGER ALERT

I have always been good in a crisis. I fall apart weeks later.

As is typical for me, I was doing 3 things at once. Family was coming for dinner, and I was picking up clutter, making gazpacho, and doing laundry. I multitask to keep from getting bored, but (numbnut that I am) I fully understand it kept me from focusing and caused this accident. By all that is holy, I'm gonna change!  

Our washer and dryer are in the garage sitting on a concrete step. Built in the mid-1990's it is not wide enough to comfortably hold the newfangled humongo appliances AND a human being without paying close attention to where you are. I was not. I slipped and began my descent. As I fell, I concentrated on shielding my upper body. I did not anticipate my right knee might hit the concrete step where the riser meets the tread.

I heard the crunch and knew I'd broken my patella. I later learned it was broken into three pieces, plus change. However, I felt nothing at first. It was surreal. I was able to roll over onto my back (probably not a good idea). I instinctively raised my knee, searching for a comfortable position (also probably not a good idea) as the pain escalated. I found my pain-free position before the worst of the pain kicked in, absolutely not considering the maxim that what goes up must come down. I wasn't thinking.

I screamed for my husband, T. I didn't scream for the pain, by the way. I screamed for the horror.  And, of course, because T is hard of hearing.

I could see he was shaken as he looked at the grotesque condition of my knee. My man was so freakin' sweet to me as he called the ambulance and packed my overnight bag. Let me just say to the entire world: I love that man.

Almost immediately, 4 kind EMT's shot me up with potent painkillers and lifted me onto the stretcher. I was deliriously happy to see one was a woman, so I took the time to congratulate her on being in a non-traditional job. I should have asked if they were registered to vote. Unfortunately, I forgot.

Away we flew to the Orlando Hospital trauma unit, sirens flashing. I have to admit, that was fun. 

I couldn't sit up to see so I begged an EMT to take pictures for future reference. I'm a total fiend. Unfortunately, my phone was in my overnight bag in T's car. He was following the ambulance.  Bummer.

At that point there was no possibly of straightening my leg, or moving at all without inflicting excruciating pain. Thankfully, the EMT's thought they'd let the doctors deal with that. I was transported to and into the ER with what looked like a leg with three knees sticking straight up in the air. People stared.

The head EMT got into a snippy argument with an aide about how to move me from the ambulance gurney onto the hospital stretcher. He wasn't taking any shit, and insisted it be done his way. I trusted him with my life but I felt sorry for the aide. Geez, I love hospital dynamics, it's always like watching a movie.

To be continued.

Is all this crap the Wheel of Life?

I get tired of problems, 
politics, 
and people. 
I really do. 
I plod on 
hoping for the best. 
Always hoping 
love will be enough. 

Do you think it is?  The world has gone crazy.

These are my jagged thoughts 
with the sharp points protruding.

When I can remember to open my eyes to see, I see beauty

CHOICE: 1998 advice to a pregnant teen

Here's a letter I wrote to a 15 year old pregnant niece of mine over 20 years ago.  In light of the current attack on Roe vs. Wade, I think this is thought provoking.  I think there's a lot we all need to think about.  If we don't think, we may not act.  If we don't act, our hard fought rights will be eroded.  Anyway, I'm sharing this letter and I still stand behind it. How wonderful that she had a choice.

5 Nov 1998

Dear ---,

So glad to hear you received the clothes. M and I had a lot of fun picking them out. T got a kick out of how different maternity clothes are nowadays. You can’t imagine how UGLY maternity clothes used to be. Big, clunky collars and blocky shapes. Yuck. And they didn’t used to have maternity jeans, so I had to cut out the stomach in mine, and sew in elastic panels. 

Sounds like your pregnancy is progressing nicely. You’ll be amazed at how glorious the whole experience is.  Nothing else like it in the world. Your Grandma is famous for having really easy deliveries. She was able to just pop ‘em out with little pain and with short labors (she delivered J at home because it went so quick she didn’t have time to get to the hospital). Maybe you’ll have inherited that from our side of the family? Did your Mom ever talk about her pregnancies and deliveries?

How’s school?  Does it seem weird to be going to classes pregnant?  Also “in the old days” they made girls quit high school when they got pregnant. You couldn’t attend classes when you started to show (or when the gym teacher found out - they used to track our periods in gym class in order to figure out when one of us got pregnant).  I was in college, trying to major in art, when I was pregnant.  People really thought it was weird that I was still taking classes. One professor actually asked me why I was still enrolled.  It really pissed me off - I remember answering, “What else am I supposed to do?”  It just never occurred to me to live my life any differently than I had been. People can be so mean, you know?

Here’s the advice part of the letter (warning, I’m not a normal person - so please just humor me):

Yeah, well, life can be pretty @#*! hard, especially when you don’t have a lot of money.  It’s the nature of “Life” to take it’s best shot from time-to-time - sometimes hitting you square in the face. The really special people in this world seem to be the ones who are strong enough to take it on the chin, pick themselves up and keep on trying to do their best. I don’t know if you’ve ever watched a pro-boxing match on TV - I love boxing. I think it symbolizes a whole lot about the way reality is for working class people. I really love that “down but not out” stuff.  And even when someone doesn’t win, if they fight with A LOT OF HEART, they still earn the respect and admiration of the audience. It‘s really all about the effort - not the result. I see you as having a lot of heart.  I’m in awe of the things you’re doing right now to keep yourself afloat. What an enormous effort it must be to try to get through school this year, and to provide a safe, healthy environment for yourself while you’re pregnant. I think you must be pretty wonderful.

And on top of all that, you’re also faced with some major real-life decisions. I’m glad to hear that people are giving you a lot of time and space to make the decision about the baby. That’s important.  Because (as you’ve figured out by now) once we get pregnant, women are faced with those three scary choices:  abort the fetus, allow the pregnancy to go full term and keep the baby, or give the baby to someone else to raise. Realistically, each one of those decisions will bring you physical and emotional pain at some definable point in time.  Each decision becomes a path your life will take forever.  Any one of those choices will probably bring you additional emotional pain further down the line. That’s just the way it is, but the fact that each is a hard choice makes them all equal in some ways.  Of course, each choice will bring you moments of great happiness in the future, as well.  Consequently, I don’t think any one of them is a bad decision. They’re all good choices to make, depending on who you are, what you want from your life, and what you feel you can handle.  Emotional pain isn’t the end of the world. When you have a lot of heart (which you do) and are a strong woman (which I think you will become) - you can handle emotional pain. It can shape you for the good, or for the bad - depending on who you are, and how you approach it. 

Independent of the pregnancy, what do you want to do with your life, by the way? What were your plans for after graduation before you found out you were pregnant?

Please write and let Uncle T and me know how you’re doing.  We care about you, and we’re concerned about your current situation.  And, of course, we wish you the absolute best.  

Settle down or someone is going to get hurt

I thought I broke my damn toe the other day. It's not the worst in the grand scheme of bad things; however, walking and biking are a big part of my daily routine. Right now it is black and blue and a little sore, but I can bend it so I think it is okay. Yay!

How did I do it?  Well, I am in the habit of racing my little grandson, N, from the front door to the car when he leaves our house. It started out more of a command performance than a habit. Now it is a simple joy. As he is leaving he looks at me with those big brown eyes and exclaims "Race you, Grandma!" I can't resist. I have only won once or twice because he is much faster than me.  But I run for the joy of the race. 

My husband, T, was amused and wondered out loud if I have reached that age where I should stop acting like a child. Sorry honey, but as long as that little boy wants to race me, I'm gonna run.

Goodness Gracious!

Wow!  There sure are a lot of slimeball sexist pigs out there.  Right? 

Everyday it seems like a new one is being called out.  There are so many that no one seems to know what to do with them all.  Hold them accountable, I say!  If it ruins their careers, so be it.  Some of them ruined the careers of the women they dehumanized (think Harvey Weinstein), and I'm a firm believer in the punishment fitting the crime.  Make them apologize publicly at the very least.  Force them to consider their actions and how it impacted on the lives of the women they victimized. THAT's how one "begins" to atone for one's sins - by fully understanding what one has done. Begin being the key word. 

It is good to be sorry for your sins, as long as it is real and changes you for the better.  It is a step in the right direction and may keep you from burning in the fires of hell for eternity (big mytho-poetic smile here). And for those who are still trying to lie and pretend all those women are making it up, sheesh - that just doesn't fly anymore.  Bring on the investigations, regardless of party, or title, or relationship.  Let the chips fall as they may.  

We have been moving backwards the past year. Change, however, is the nature of reality.  Eventually we will stop moving backwards, the political dynamic will re-set, and we will start moving forward again.  I can't help but think it is already happening.  Am I an optimist or a realist?  You tell me. 

Say no to snark

I have noticed a preponderance of snark on social media since the election. Perhaps you have, too? Snark is defined by my computer's dictionary as "snide and sharply critical comments." You know what I'm talking about. It is the online equivalent of giving someone the finger...

Personally, I hate snark. It makes my skin crawl when I hear it, and it makes me want to punch someone out when they use it against me. It seems people use snarky comebacks because they think it makes them appear strong and smart. It doesn't. It makes them appear rude and childish. When you use your vast intelligence to come up with a pithy reply designed to destroy your opponent, then you have wasted your words. But most importantly, you've done no good.

The best way to convince someone to change their mind is to listen to them (as respectfully as you are able to pull off...) and THEN start engaging in discussion, strategically. The best way to shut someone down and push them away is to throw snark at them. Because who is going to want to listen to you if you have accused them of being less than human? 

How do I know this? Because I was once trained in the art of persuasion by an international representative of a large and famous labor union. She could convince anybody of anything.  It was a gift that some people have. If you don't believe me, then follow a successful salesperson around for a day. Salespeople take a lot of abuse and disrespect everyday, but they keep trying to find a way to connect - to make that sale. 

Okay, okay, we all have certain friends or relatives we absolutely cannot listen to or argue with. And social media has brought out the troll in way too many angry, lonely, and desperate souls. Unless you have an advanced degree in psychology, just step away from those folks. Detach. Don't waste your time. Don't surrender to the snark side. It's a slippery damn slope that will deliver you to straight to cynicism. And, well, that's kinda like burning in hell.

I want the world to change for the better. I want to win. The only way to do that is to get strategic. We can do this without sacrificing our humanity.

Don't just react. Take the time to think. 

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

Some flounder, but this isn't fan mail.

Here are some end of the year musings if you can stand me yammering on:

We all know that kind of person, the one who means well but falls short. No doubt we all ARE that kind of person, imperfect and floundering as we are. I thought more highly of myself before I retired. Now I have time to think, remember, and analyze my actions in depth. There are many things I regret having said or done. Some things I did because I fell short of kindness. Other things I did because I just did not realize, did not consider, how my actions would affect another. Sometimes I was just plain foolish.

I can forgive myself for those things fairly easily because I know I was not trying to be mean. I am imperfect. I will try harder. I just wish I could apologize to the zillions of people who suffered because of my imperfection. Interestingly, as I begin to forgive myself for being less than perfect, I find I can begin the process of forgiving others who fell short with me. Except for the occasional psychopath, we all live and learn.

Still, the ego-driven transgressions are the worst, and the hardest for me to come to terms with. How could I have been so self-centered? All these years I thought I was trying to be good. Instead, I look back and realize all too often I was trying to make myself "look" good. There are casual things I have said or done because I thought I was better, smarter, or was just trying to dominate the conversation with me, me, me.

I am NOT referring to blog posts, by the way.  Blogging is the absolute right forum for talking about oneself. It is a place for self-exploration, expression, humor, sharing, and grief. I'm good with my blog being about me. My real-life actions are what I feel a bit oppressed by.

A twisted tree still grows, just not straight

You can't get rid of me THAT easy.

I just read a comment on FB encouraging angry protesters to move to Canada.  Ha!  That made me laugh. 

Move to Canada? No, I think maybe I'll stay right here in Florida and work for change. 

It cracks me up when people pretend to be shocked and outraged at the backlash from these "marching in the streets" Millennials. The GOP never accepted Obama as their president and obstructed him long and hard for 8 years. The young have eyes to see and ears to hear.

I do not approve of obstructionism or disrespect. Like it or not, our obsolete Electoral College system has given us someone we do not want.  Shit happens. I support working within the system to promote peaceful and rational progressive change. I encourage others to do the same. However, I am not going to lie.  I look forward to watching activism flower in the hearts and minds of young people in these United States.

The Time

Oh gee, where DOES the time go? And where does it come FROM, for that matter? These are the thoughts I have in retirement.

It is a helluva thing, Time. Closing in on 65, I figure I've had a lot of it. I hope to have more, of course. However, if something happened to end my time I would go out knowing that I have had a long and eventful life. I would have very few regrets.

But would I change anything? Would I go back, knowing what I know now and do things differently to avoid pain or hardship? Sure.

Then I wonder if I would have had as many adventures, victories, or just plain "Yes!" moments to remember. Who would I be if I had been able to avoid pain or struggle? Just how does this work, living a life?  

Afterthought/added after original post:  
And what of disease, trauma, and violence? These do no one any good.  I would change those things if I could.  

My footprint in the sand at St. Augustine Beach, August 2016.

The Blame Game

Why is it that when a tragedy occurs the haters circle around the unlucky like vultures, ripping the carcass apart to ascertain blame?  What is wrong with us that we behave in such an unkind way?

Sometimes a tragedy is just a tragedy.  Perhaps we should mind our own business and leave it at that.

Going Back

We made a whirlwind trip to Upstate NY in mid-May. It was the first time we went back since moving to Florida in March 2014. We arrived late Friday and left after lunch on Monday. Absurdly short visit, I know; but T is not a good traveler. I apologize from the heart to those dear friends I was unable to see this time. The guilt and regret I feel is palpable. But this trip had a specific purpose.

Our friend, ShS, died in January and we were unable to go back for her funeral. We specifically planned this May weekend with the old gang to honor her and help her husband process the loss.

Saying goodbye to her was one of the last things we did before leaving NYS over two years ago. She was not sick yet. Still, when I hugged her goodbye at her doorway that cold March day I was overcome with sorrow and didn't want to let go of her. I fought tears as we drove away. It would be an understatement to say I don't usually cry. I am usually steely calm with goodbyes, so Tom asked if I was okay. I told him I had a strong feeling I was never going to see ShS again. It was one of those moments when the future reaches back with fully extended claws to rend your heart with foresight. Spooky.

On a lighter note, while there we went to our favorite Vietnamese restaurant. When I walked in, the waiter immediately remembered me! He also remembered my standard lunch order after all these years. Whatta guy!

His kindness reminded me how we impact everyone we meet. A kind and gracious waiter can make a customer's day. We might remember him/her for the rest of our lives. Relationships take many forms. Make no mistake, we all play a role crafting goodness and light in this world.

Yes, we went to Wegmans. I had a hilarious "moment" with an elderly stranger who was sitting down in the dining area eating an entire Mini Ultimate Chocolate Cake all by her sweet self. As I walked by, I saw the cake and exclaimed "Look, it's one of those cakes!" She heard me and said, "I am just trying to make sure I stay fat." Ha! I'll probably never forget her, either.

Just so you know, we brought a small, empty carry-on suitcase on the plane. Before leaving NYS we filled it up with 3 dozen bagels for our return. The security bag scanner at the airport got a big kick out of it. Six of the bagels were garlic. Now the suitcase will forever smell of garlic. I don't care.

Bagels, ripe for the picking

Heaven on Earth: the produce section at Wegmans

FYI - We are going to be preoccupied with a family wedding this weekend, so I probably won't be checking my or other people's blogs for a few days.  If you send comments I will publish them and respond Monday or Tuesday.  Have a good weekend!

January

January is the darkest, coldest month AND it is a full 31 days.  When I lived in Upstate New York I really dreaded January.  It seemed to last forever, and I could never get warm.  All the beautiful hills were gray and white.  Green was a memory, something to look forward to.  January was the month I had to "endure."

I know some people dislike February or March more than January. They are sick of winter by then. Cabin fever sets in and the continued cold and snow becomes unbearable. I understand that. I felt those feelings. However, I always thought February arrived with hope. February was what you earned for living through January. In my mind I had to get on the other side of January before I could begin to imagine spring might actually return.

I used to live in fear of snowstorms, not because I disliked the snow, but because I had to drive to work in it.  I do not miss white-knuckle driving.

The University was famous for never closing because of weather. In fact, I think it officially closed for a snow day only 3 or 4 times in the 37 years I worked there. A special breed of stoic, fearless, and hardy souls live in the frozen Northlands! If you can withstand a long, cold northern winter you can withstand just about anything.

In Florida there is no snow; however, we are having our "winter" right now.  It was in the low 50's all day yesterday.  We turned our heat on for the 3rd time in 2 years.  I went to the doctor and that is all anyone in the office could talk about, the chill.  Ha!  But I was right there with them, annoyed that I had to wear socks and a light jacket. 

One of the nurses, a woman who had already revealed to me that she was originally from the Bronx, winked at me and said "We are spoiled down here!"  We smiled, knowingly.  We continued to complain about the weather with the rest of them, but we knew better.

The best part of winter in Central Florida is the relentless sun, which shines bold and bright almost every day. I never take it for granted, and it never gets old.

And what kind of doctor did I go to?  A dermatologist, of course.  Too much sun and you get actinic keratoses that have to be removed.  Nothing and nowhere is perfect.

A walkway at Leu Gardens in Orlando, Florida - January 2016

Out of my mindfulness

There is a lot of talk these days of living in or experiencing the moment, of being "mindful."  Unfortunately, words are cheapened when we overuse them. Then it takes a really long time before we can use them again with sincerity.  Okay, that phrase in itself sounds like a long buzz-phrase and means almost nothing like what I really meant. Let me try that again: Once a word becomes trendy it takes a long time before I can use it without the word sounding like meaningless crap to me. 

Of course the words themselves continue to mean what they mean. We are the ones who can no longer see or hear a word in its original context once it becomes trite.

For example, consider the first time you heard the phrase “thinking outside of the box.” It is one of those phrases that became over-popular 10-15 years ago in the workplace as a means to get people to re-evaluate a practice, to rethink a concept. The first time I heard it I thought, “That’s brilliant.” Then everyone used it, and used it, and used it.

When it was thrown out yet again by the millionth facilitator at still another focus group or workshop I could no longer even hear the original intention behind the phrase. I was too busy wanting a different facilitator, one who owned a thesaurus. One who thought their own thoughts and used their own words. I wanted to be facilitated by the first person who came up with that phrase.

I guess I am feeling more ornery than usual today; probably because I have been eating too much fruitcake.  And fudge.

But seriously...I find that being “mindful” actually does help alleviate anxiety.  I just need to come up with a new word for it.

The Resurrection of Lake Apopka

Florida is all about water. Being a peninsula, it is surrounded by water. The rainy season is akin to the deluge.  In fact, one-fifth of the State of Florida consists of water. There are 30,000 lakes in Florida, and about 75 of these are considered large lakes. We are lucky in that we live near a big lake and spend a lot of time biking, hiking, wildlife watching there.  If you read my earlier blog, Alligator Days, you will see photos of a very small area of this lovely lake and the canals that exist nearby.

Lake Apopka is either the third, fourth, or fifth largest lake in Florida, depending on what you read. Sorry to be so vague, but the www-based uncertainty on this subject is massive and searching for precise information has kept me frustrated for more hours than I care to admit.  I give up.  It is either #3, #4, or #5 and that is the best I can do. 

Lake Apopka used to be a huge tourist attraction, famous for fishing camps and world-class bass fishing. At one time there were as many as 29 fishing camps on the lake, attracting tourists from all over the country hoping to catch trophy-sized bass. Now it has the distinction of being Florida's most polluted large lake.

Interestingly, it was once the second largest lake in Florida.  However, in 1941 a levee was built at the north end of the lake. The levee drained 20,000 acres of Lake Apopka. That reduced the size of the lake dramatically. The purpose was to add farmland, aiding in the war effort to produce more vegetables.  It was a well meaning effort that set the stage for disaster.

There are still people around who remember the lake as once so pristine you could see the bottom, but by 1950 it was already becoming murky with algae. Phosphorous and pesticides from farms bordering the lake, especially ones on the newly drained north end, continued to seep into the water. Local communities discharged treated wastewater into the lake up until the 1980's. By the early 1960's the fish began dying. Then, in 1980 a local pesticide company illegally dumped significant amounts of toxic chemicals into Lake Apopka. 

In the early 1990's a group of environmentally minded local folks from a variety of interest groups came together to form the Friends of Lake Apopka (FOLA). Their intention was to find ways to buy the drained farmland and reclaim the land from the farms who were discharging phosphorus laden water into the lake basin."

The St. Johns River Water Management District "and the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) purchased almost all of the farms for restoration between 1988 and 2001."  Apparently 15,000 acres of drained farmland were purchased.

What an amazing effort. Buying all that land must have cost a pretty penny. Thank you real estate interests, environmentalists, business interests, taxpayers, state and federal governments. I am not being sarcastic. I love it when people come together, step up, and do the right thing; especially when it is a very hard thing to do.

The fish were not the only creatures who died because of the lake's polluted waters. Fish eating birds did, too, even years after restoration began. At one point in the 1990's the new stewards of the lake tried flooding the drained land. "The birds returned by the thousands. Unfortunately, pesticide residue in the fish they ate killed almost a thousand white pelicans, wood storks and great blue herons, and the land was drained again."  It boggles the mind.

You find American Alligators in just about any body of water in Florida. It doesn't have to be a lake. I have seen them sunning themselves alongside man-made retention ponds in area subdivisions adjacent to the West Orange (bike) Trail.  Here's one I saw last week:

Alligator on lower left sunning itself beside a subdivision retention pond

Alligators in Lake Apopka are famous for having suffered reproductive abnormalities and growth defects from the polluted waters.  Fertility issues related to pesticides significantly diminished the numbers of alligators in the lake between 1980 and 1987.

Alligator at Lake Apopka, October 2015

An alarming number of farmworkers from the vegetable muck farms formerly established at the north end of the lake subsequently developed lupus.  This was likely caused by overexposure to pesticides when picking, cutting, and packaging the vegetables grown on the muck farms.  Of course, it could also be from the crop dusters that routinely flew overhead, dusting the fields and the people working in the fields with pesticides. What kind of person sprays pesticides on their employees?  

For a year and a half we have lived near this big lake. It is 12 miles long and nearly 8 miles wide. We often bike to Newton Park, a small city park on Lake Apopka just off the West Orange Trail. I have only seen a boat on the water twice. About a year ago we saw a small water management boat on the water, but just last month we saw a sailboat!  That was exciting.

Sailboat on Lake Apopka, October 2015

It is now 2015 and returning this lake to health is still an ongoing project. Although things are definitely getting better because of restoration efforts, I often wonder if it will return to full health in my lifetime. FOLA says it will. I hope they are right.

Recent news coverage said that in the 20 years already spent actively trying to bring the lake back to health “Taxpayers have dumped more than $200 million into Lake Apopka, and it’s still one of the sickest lakes in the state.”  The good news is that a new treatment is being used and it seems hopeful. The problem with the lake is that there is significant muck accumulation at the bottom of the lake (up to 15 feet deep in certain areas). The new treatment involves pumping oxygen into the water and then using bacteria to “eat” the muck. The news story quoted above indicates that if this new treatment works it might only take 20 more years before the lake is healthy again...

I am not an expert on any of these matters. I can only tell you what I have read and comment on what I have observed. If you are not the type to be moved simply by the loss of the lake's natural beauty or the loss of wildlife, then perhaps you should consider the loss to the local economy. There are no fishing camps anymore, so all those potential tourists are not coming here to spend their money in the towns surrounding the lake.

The FOLA people deserve massive kudos.  They have a respectful practicality regarding restoration and they are currently concentrating on Ecotourism. There are now at least two beautiful nature preserves carved out of the land surrounding the lake. Biking and hiking trails invite us to commune with the natural world. A new one-way, car-based drive takes people on self-driven explorations along the many canals that must have been created for the orange growing industry once prospering around the lake. I like to think of this drive as an alligator safari.  Last time we took that drive we counted 31 alligators! Native trees and other flora have been planted in a respectful effort to return the land to the way it once was. 

Perhaps we still cannot eat the fish, but at least now we can enjoy being near the lake. It is an amazingly beautiful lake to look at. That is, as long as you do not look into the dark pea green color of the water...

View from the dock at Newton Park on Lake Apopka.  The water in this picture is less than 2 feet deep but you cannot see the bottom.