Anna Maria Island

Tom and I are back from vacation with our daughter's family on Anna Maria Island. It sits between Tampa and Sarasota on the Gulf Coast.

The rental house had a pool table and a swimming pool. Good thing, because we spent most of our time there. Why?

First, COVID is surging again in Florida. Our moronic governor refuses to do anything intelligent. Ever. The rental house was booked last spring when it looked like things were getting better. We went, knowing we would wear masks and get take-out meals. No surprises there.

Second, Florida's Gulf Coast is experiencing red tide. Although the local media claims it isn't "that" bad at Anna Maria Island, it smelled and made us cough when we were near the beach. I walked to a tiki bar near the water the first day and my chest hurt all evening from coughing. So, we didn't go near the beach after that.  

Beach towns and rental houses have their own kitsch, which I enjoy. Sadly, Anna Maria Island locals have allowed greedy developers to build, build, build. When we drove onto the island from Brandenton, I was shocked at the sprawl. I couldn't help but wonder what a civilized country might have done with an island?

I know this sounds negative, but we actually enjoyed ourselves. It was fun to get away and spend time with family. We are all used to being inside by now. It was just fun to be inside someplace new for a while. 

 

Play Date

My daughter delivered four wild 9-year old boys with McDonalds Happy Meals at 1:30 p.m the other day. 

We had two craft options. After loudly discussing the merits of each, they voted. They chose the hardest. With dread, Tom and I read the instructions. By then, the boys were in their swimming trunks and out the back door to the pool. 

They swam, cannonballed, thrashed, splashed, and pushed each other into the pool for nearly 2 hours. Elaborate water tag rules were invented, bellowed, and disregarded. Tom, wise and silent like all good lifeguards, sat sentinel.  

I tried to mind my own business, but had to announce our no hitting rule when Connor hit Blake over the head with a pool noodle. And when I heard Micah scream, I reminded Niko that the rubber Disney swords hurt when you slapped them onto someone's arm.  

After swimming, they frosted and decorated cupcakes. I taught them the M&M technique: frost a cupcake and then immediately plunge the top into a bowl of mini M&M's. The result being an encrusted delight. They consumed ungodly amounts of sugar. What did I care?  

They played hide and go seek out back, through the house, and out the front door. Eventually, they decided they were hungry again. This time they wanted hot dogs and french fries, which I dutifully made. They played video games, and only ate the french fries.

I was at the computer when all four marched in. Niko said "Grandma, can we jump on your bed?" I said, "No." Niko said, "Please?" I said, "No." Niko said, "Please, please, PLEASE?" I said "No." 

"Awwww" he replied unhappily as they marched back out.  

 

Anniversary themes

As you probably know, each anniversary has a traditional theme. I couldn't remember what 50 was, so I looked up a Hallmark web site. This anniversary (coming right up) is our "golden" anniversary. But get this:  Hallmark says the anniversary theme for 53 years is PLASTIC.  So in 3 years we can celebrate our plastic anniversary?  

I had to laugh. Their motto should be: Hallmark, cheapening the human experience every damn day.

I also discovered there are flower themes for anniversaries. That seems more appropriate. After 50 years a couple doesn't need more things. They need more flowers. Planted firmly in the ground, preferably, where they can grow as strong as a 50 year marriage.

from Wikipedia:

"I don't want to lose (fill in the blank)"

We picked our grandson up on the last day of school at the end of May. He was quiet. I assumed he was sad about school ending. Later he told me he watched a movie about climate change. Apparently it was graphic, because he is still terrified.  

He sobbed and clung to me, saying "I don't want to lose my beautiful family, my beautiful world." He's nine years old.  Holy Mother of God, that moment ripped open a hole in my heart that may never heal.  For both of us.  For all of us.  

I don't want to lose my beautiful family, or my beautiful world either.  

Photos for today

 

Scandaleux!

I went with daughter M, and grandkids E, and N to Epcot. It is the Disney theme park with many countries represented, including France (where we ate lunch). E had escargot as an appetizer. Niko had pommes frites, of course, and nothing else. We bought a hat for a cat in Japan. We did a scavenger hunt that took us all over the "world." The Garden and Flower Festival is going on right now, so the flora was lush and colorful. We usually buy a Boddington's at the pub in England, or a Margarita in Mexico, but this time we were saving ourselves for France.  

I paid $40 for a meal consisting of thin and fatty fillet mignon, overcooked green beans, and mashed potatoes that had clearly been sitting on a plate long enough to form a skin. Highway robbery! As a woman named Colette, I was scandalized. I think the real France should be notified. They are being misrepresented.  

I took some pictures to make you laugh, or scratch your head, or make you wish you were there. Whatever floats your boat. I've included a display of berets for sale in the French store. I sent it to my friend Anne de Nantes. She assured me the French wear berets ALL the time, even when they go swimming at the beach. Ha! 

I must admit, it was a fun day with people I love so much I could scream.

Here's the view from Japan

The cat in the hat

Contact

I am struggling with contact dermatitis this week. 

The house next door has a plethora of mango trees. Since it is occupied by renters, the trees have not been pruned. They're huge. Consequently, ripe mangos weigh down the tall branches and fall in our yard, not the worst thing in the world! 

The other day there was a storm and the high wind broke a large branch off one tree into our yard. I don't believe anyone is even living next door right now, so I wandered over and stripped the branches of mangoes (quite the haul!) before my husband dragged the large branch out to the street for disposal.  I was psyched for mango delights.

The next day my left eye was nearly swollen shut, and I had red rashes all over my lower arms and upper chest. Even some on my right foot. Yeah, I had been wearing flip flops and a v-necked t-shirt when greedily claiming my spoils the night before. No rashes around my mouth, though. I guess that means I'm not allergic to the fruit.  

I remembered the leaves and mangoes were covered with sticky sap.  I googled:

Can you be allergic to mango sap?

This oil can cause allergic reactions upon contact. Urushiol is also found in the sap, skin, stem, and leaf of mangoes. Just as contact with poison ivy or oak may trigger an allergic skin rash in some people, exposure to mangoes may result in a similar reaction.

Swift, Certain, and ?

WARNING: 

I've been thinking. Read no further if you want to be amused.

BORING DATA:  

Some people are awaiting trial for the January 6th insurrection. They hoped to overturn an election Biden won by 7,052,770 votes out of over 158 million cast. Because of the Great American Crank Factor, 2.5 million people threw their votes away on non-viable candidates. The remaining 155,485,078 voted for either Biden or Trump. Biden's 4.5% victory margin is the largest since 2000.  

If you're hung up on the wildly unfair Electoral College, Biden got 306 EC votes and Trump got 232.  

MY ACTUAL THOUGHTS:

How do we punish insurrectionists? Some want punishment to be swift, certain, and severe. Severe because the assumption is aggressive punishment deters criminal acts. This brings to mind Jean Valjean's long prison sentence for stealing bread to feed his sister's starving children.

Others want swift, certain, and fair punishment. In other words, the punishment should fit the crime. How would Jean Valjean have been punished in this context? 

Sedition is a serious, folks. Finding a punishment to fit the crime for insurrectionist leaders is a no-brainer. There was no Jean Valjean in that group. These folks gleefully committed a crime that threatened our republic. If successful, the entire world would have suffered. 

But what about the gullible day trippers who participated? I'm talking about the people in D.C. that day for the Trump rally. They listened to their supreme leader tell them to go and raise hell and they joined in.  Trump wound them up like a yoyo and hurled their strings toward the U.S. Capitol. Still, being part of a violent mob demands a penalty. That's just the way it is. You know, "justice" and all that implies. 

I say all this with full knowledge that Trump escaped punishment for his role that day. Maybe "justice" is only blind when it comes to the wealthy and powerful?

FINALLY, MY QUESTION:
What's a fair and effective punishment for the gullible day trippers?  

 

photo from https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2021/01/12/us/capitol-mob-timeline.html

New teeth in an old mouth

 8:34 am

In an hour I'll be going with my husband to a dental surgeon who will prepare him for two new implanted teeth. He can't have anything to eat or drink before. That is, he has to face the situation decaffeinated and hangry. He seems edgy, cranky, and anxious. He likes to be left alone when he's like this, and I'm happy to comply. However, I'm empathizing like crazy in the other room, unbeknownst to him.

I'm wondering if I have enough soft things in the house for him to eat for the next couple of days.  I should have bought bananas yesterday so I could make him a smoothie later today. Oh well, I can always go grocery shopping.  Or, better yet, I could ORDER food to be delivered! 

10:00 am

They won't let me wait inside the reception room in the dental office because of COVID.  I have to sit in the car and wait for God knows how long. Luckily it is isn't blisteringly hot today. I am able to open the car windows and read my book while enjoying a slight breeze. What am I reading? The Plague of Doves, by Louise Erdrich.  Good stuff.  

11:30 am

Surgery is over and all went well.  The kindly dental assistant slowly walked him out to our car. I couldn't figure out if I should jump out and take over for her or not. So I didn't. I think that was the right thing to do? Narrow space between cars and all. It is SO hard to figure out when to prove one's love, or when to show restraint. I have a hard time with all that.

11:50 am

We are home. The kindly dental assistant easily put him in the passenger seat. And he was feeling no pain, thanks to modern medicine. That's why I drove. He usually drives and seemed uncomfortable with my driving. In spite of his mouth being stuffed with padding, he tried to tell me how to maneuver the roads.  Eventually he resorted to pointing at street signs, so I wouldn't miss them, ha!  He even gave me a thumbs up when I got in the right lane. I showed restraint AND proved my love at the same time. That one was easy.

12:10 pm

Apparently he took selfies of his sorry looking self immediately upon waking up from surgery in the doctor's office. Always the funny man!  He also posted them on his Facebook page. Sheesh. His FB friends are concerned.  I'm trying to pretend I didn't notice the post.  

1:20 pm

Groceries are on their way.  I ordered a lot of ice cream.  

1:21 pm

Is it wrong of me to be happy because I can drink all the wine alone tonight?

What to do, what to say?

Geez-o-freakin' Pete, I got quite the tongue lashing from Robbie (Roderick Robinson) in the comment section of my last post. He's an irascible codger with a mind too big for his noggin. I say that with affection, by the way. I must admit I "almost" enjoy when he challenges me. It makes me think. One really must think. Otherwise, well, just look around you at the stupidity that often passes for reality.

In the post he responded to, I made the claim I didn't have anything to say. He took issue with that. Okay, okay, I suppose I should have told the truth when I wrote my previous post. "I don't feel like writing, thinking, or doing anything productive." But then I would have been admitting my current inertia. I've been undergoing a period of stasis. It's like a false awakening, except I'm actually awake. 

I hear my sainted mother in my head, asking "Are you bragging or complaining?"  Definitely complaining. 

I suppose the only way out of this stoppage is to start.

My grandson, N, took this picture.