Well I'm feeling pretty dang good about myself right now! I finally got around to doing some long overdue yard work. LONG overdue. Like really really long. Longitylong. Wow! What a slacker.
I'm not sure why I put it off so long. While I didn't get it all done, and in fact, have only made the merest dent, it actually took less than two hours to fill three, count 'em, three garbage cans full to over flowing. So it's not as if it was a full day's worth of toting that barge and lifting that bale y'know? Still, tickled with my accomplishment. I think part of the reason I procrastinate about yardwork is the weather. Naturally, the rainy season (that would be now) is when everything grows like mad and gets totally out of control. But that also means you have to pick and choose carefully when you undertake yardwork endeavors. I do not recommend waving around metal objects while standing in the rain during a thunder and lightening storm. Just not a good idea in general. So, good rule there, no yard work in the rain. On the other hand, this time of year it is unpleasant, to say the least to be outside when it's not raining. It's hot, really hot and humid, really really humid which means it's buggy, really really really buggy. Yuck. All things I try to avoid. Especially when exerting myself. And yard work does require physical effort which, even on a nice pleasant day, means getting dirty and sweaty. On a hot and humid day it's dirty and sweaty times a thousand! Million! Zillion! Or heatstroke. Also something to be avoided. So clearly the best idea is to tackle a job like this early in the morning on a day when it's A) not raining B) not threatening imminent rain C) Very Early D) Very Very Early in the day. So today I rolled out of bed before the sun was fully awake and into my hiking clothes - becoz those clothes are already beat to crap - added ball cap, work gloves, sunscreen and I was out the door. I grabbed a rake and my big old chonkers on the way. I particularly wanted to get the totally out of control stuff along the back fence, a little more under control. Some previous owner of this house, for reasons unknown, planted some purple flowers along the back that honestly are more like weeds than flowers. They have long tangledly stems and they weave themselves together until it's like a crazy quilt mat of purple flowers. And that would be fine, I suppose, except that seeds get dropped into the midst of the crazy quilt and then other things try to also grow there too. Thing like baby trees. And I really do not need a forest encroaching on the yard. I waded cautiously into the morass, my eyes zeroing in on a particularly tall specimen representing a great place to begin. I have no idea what sort of tree it was planning to become, but Not On My Watch. I know I sound like a monster, cutting down baby trees at a time when we all want to SAVE THE TREES. But Florida is a different sort of place. With the least bit of encouragement, things grow. An untended yard, in one season, becomes a rainforest. And it's not just that the idea of living in a house surrounded by forest that we are opposed to. It's the stuff that lives IN the forest too. All sorts of critters live in the stuff I'm pruning and cutting and so forth. Critters that object strongly to what I'm doing. I'm speaking of spiders and snakes and wasps and well, heaven knows what else is lurking out there! Spiders, snakes and wasps have important roles in our eco system and I agree that they should be allowed to exist. I am even okay with them existing in our yard. BUT they are not allowed to bite, sting or freak me out in anyway. Nope. Not allowed. We have seen racoons, oppossums, mice, rats (shudder) bobcats, coyotes and several species of snakes in our yard when it's pristine. If the yard gets completely out of control, lord knows what else could be back there. Bears? Panthers? Wild Pigs? Triceratops? Yikes! Anyway, I was very brave but also cautious and, as I kept an eye out of anything I didn't care to see up close and personal, I cut and chopped and raked and filled our three extra garbage cans and then dragged them up to the front of the house, as I said. And then I had to stop. We only have the 3 extra cans. Once they are filled, I have to wait until next week after garbage pick up to do another section. It looks better, it does. You can tell that I worked on it. But it's also very obvious how much more there is to do. Hopefully next week, I will continue to chop, cut, dig and rake and fill the cans again and the same the following week over and over until either the yard looks better again or the rainy season is over, whichever comes first. Of course, in the same way that a bathroom is only clean until one person uses it, the yard work is only caught up until it rains again and then things grow again. The very things I chopped down will sprout anew! ARGH! It's frustrating sometimes and perhaps that is another reason why I put it off?? Perhaps a significant truth to why this chore has been postponed is that, quite honestly, I am kind of lazy. I'll admit it. I would rather read than rake. I'd rather cut out cookies or biscuits than cut errant branches. I prefer chopping vegetables to chopping foliage. Still it needs to be done and now that I've properly kicked myself in the butt to get myself started, hopefully, next week, I will get out there and tackle it again. And then Again. And Again. It's either that or we learn to live like Tarzan and Jane.
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Okay, I know this is a polarizing topic. Generally people feel strongly one way or the other. Very little "middle of the road" on this one. They either love it or hate it. The topic is: Leftovers.
You know, you make a meal and when you are done eating, some of the food remains uneaten. Some people throw that uneaten portion away. Other people carefully pack it up and tuck it into the fridge and eat it another day. Leftovers. Literally the food that is left over. Now that I think about it, there is a third category. There are folks who carefully package up the remaining food, put it in the refrigerator and then never eat it. At some future, unspecified date, when the food has turned from an appetizing treat into a science experiment gone wrong, they throw it away. But I think that is just another version of the 1st sort of person. So I've changed my mind again, there really are only two sorts of attitudes. I am strongly in the pro leftover camp. If you are anti-leftover, quite frankly, you will go hungry in my house. I enjoying cooking and baking (as most of you know) but there is an efficiency to leftovers that appeals to my frugal little heart. When you really break it down, for the same cost, we can eat better quality for less money by buying one large, more expensive thing that can be multiple meals than having something different every day but of less quality. For example: If I roast a chicken one night and serve it with mashed potatoes, biscuits and a vegetable, the second night there is definitely enough remaining chicken for, perhaps, a chicken pot pie! And then chicken salad sandwiches! The leftover mashed potato becomes lovely potato pancakes . The leftover veg can be used in the chicken pot pie. The bones and bits of meat left make a lovely chicken soup and of course leftover biscuits are great with everything. Look at all the meals I made from one chicken! There is a creativity required, a challenge presented that goes along with leftovers, which I love, too. I stare at the food in the fridge and wonder to myself, "What else can this be?" Recently I made some stuffed shells florentine. It's a dish I adore but rarely make and I was in the mood, what can I tell you. But I was very disappointed because the box of pasta had only 12 unbroken shells. Dang. I had a great big bowl of the riccota/mozz/spinach stuffing and not nearly enough stuff to be stuffed with it! The next day I turned it into a pasta bake that was glorious! I guess that's part of liking leftovers. You have to either not mind a repetitive meal OR you have to find a way to turn it into a different meal. Some meals are perfect for this idea. I've mentioned it before, but it bears repeating. Chili is one of the best. You doubt me? A big pot of chili is of course a great meal already with side of corn bread. Yummy. And if you make a big enough pot you have, potentially, leftovers for days. Naturally, you can just continue to eat it, as a bowl of chili. Nothing wrong with that. But if you crave a little variety, leftover chili is also great on a hot dog, and it's delicious on a baked potato. A popular twist is to add elbow macaroni and now you have chili mac! Yummy. Or, my personal favourite to put it on a salad with tortilla chips and it's sort of a taco salad. So Good. When the boys were young, I almost never served leftovers. There was, very rarely, food leftover. I had three boys! And the older they got, the hungrier they got and the fewer leftovers there were to be had! It's only been, really, since the boys grew up and left home and it was just Tim and I around the dinner table. And suddenly there were always leftovers and I had to find a way to use them. Turned out, I have a knack. Now anything can be taken too far. My Nana, bless her heart, would save everything. Every single scrap. One pea left? Save it. And put it in the little container in the fridge with those two green beans and 3 kernels of corn and 4 bites of carrot. One day of the next weekend that sad lonely leftover container of vegetables would be added to a green Jello ring mold, chilled then turned out unsidedown onto a bed of lettuce and the empty center would be filled with mayo. Welcome to vegetable Jello! Disgusting! I would rather go hungry than eat that and often did. Yuck. And quite honestly, if a dish is not good the first night, being served again, in another fashion another night will not make it any better. Some meals are just destined for the garbage can or the disposer and Good Riddance to them. I'm not quite That Hard Core. I have respect for the people who are anti-leftovers. You feel the way you feel. And I don't have to understand it, to believe it is true. So, which camp do you fall in? Leftovers: yay or nay? Clearly Joy and I (Joy on the right, me on the left) managed to get out on the hiking trails again this week. Hurrah! So obviously this will be another Photo Safari Report. Eventually. Had an interesting conversation with Joy that started when I missed a shot. Nature is some times so dang fast! And I wanted to start out writing today about that conversation. I have always believed that I was just a slow thinker. When something happens that I do not expect, I do not react quickly. It's as if my brain needs a few extra seconds to sort things out first and in photography, especially nature photography, sometimes, you gotta act fast. And I just don't. I assumed it was just me, since some people react/respond very quickly and I do not. I laughed as I explained this to Joy and said, "Yeah I know, I'm weird but at least it means I'm always calm in a crisis". But Joy said that she believes that most people's brains work similarly. She referred to it as, "The Questionnaire". Her theory is that most people's brain process goes a little something like this: Walking down a path in the forest, tralalala. You see something up ahead that looks unexpected or not quite right. What is it? Is that a duck in a tree? and as you slowly approach Well, I'll be darned! It is a duck in a tree? Why is there a duck in a tree? And more importantly, is this photo worthy? How is the light? The angle? What setting should I use? Is he moving? Will I scare him off if I get closer? Final Shot. I was lucky in this particular case because the duckie in question did hold still. But more often than not, by the time I've gone through the entire questionnaire, the subject is gone. Dang. Is that how it works for you too? For me it's even murkier than that. Often the questionnaire gets even more muddled because my brain is kind of like Grand Central Station at Rush Hour. A zillion things going on in a zillion different directions all at the same time. It's crowded, it's noisy and sometimes it's tough sorting out the important stuff. Which means while I am considering taking a photo, part of my brain is admiring the lovely fragrance in the air and trying to identify the various scents. As I consider the consequences of all the light and shadow, my stupid brain seizes on the word shadow and suddenly the Theme song to the old radio show, 'The Shadow Knows' is playing, another part of my mind is cataloguing black & white photography as well as pen and ink drawings. Another part is rifling through the brain cabinet of old mystery movies, books and TV shows. As I'm debating what settings to use I'm also thinking about every article I've ever read on Photography technique which reminds me of painting techniques which leads me to the word Technical which of course segues into machinery of all sorts and somehow lands on the topic of Steam Punk and Doctor Who (both at the same time)..................... And like that. Which is why, occasionally I miss a really good shot. Which in part explains why, if you looked at the pictures Joy took and the pictures I took of the same hike on the same day, a hike we took together AND we always take the time out to point things out to one another, you might think we were on completely different hikes, separately. Don't know why I felt the need to explain that to you, but there you have it! Something you probably didn't know about me before. Now, back to the hike. Should I start with the birds that I actually did manage to capture? I have a few botanicals if you are the mood for those: (they don't move as much) A couple of shots that involve water of one sort or another: A few surprises, rather than rando's today: All in all, it was a terrific hike and a great time. Hope you enjoyed.
Wishes for a wonderful weekend to us all! About six months or so ago, I decided to let my hair grow long again. It's been a very long time and every once in awhile, I just feel the need to mix things up a bit. The real capper on making the decision was the continually rising cost of getting my hair cut. The price had gone from "wow" to "crazy" all the way to "insane". I'm not saying that these people do not deserve the price they charge. I'm saying I'm not willing to pay it. What I had apparently forgotten in making this decision were two key things: First, straight hair is a pain in the arse to deal with. I have straight hair. It's very soft, like baby hair, it's very fine and it's Very straight. Secondly, my bangs. Was I going to grow out everything? Or everything except the bangs? I decided to go for broke and just let it all grow and as far as the straightness, well I would figure that out as I went along. Yeah, sure, Easier said than done. As the bangs got longer and more and more in my face, it began to drive me crazy. I just cannot stand having my hair in my eyes. I tried all sort of things: various clips, pins and barrettes , hair bands, hair gel and even hats. The clips, pins and barrettes work fine for a short time but as the day goes on, they begin to slip their moorings and ultimately end up on the floor somewhere. So I have to constantly put them back in. Also it takes roughly a zillion clips to keep my hair, even short term, where it belongs. Lots of clips, lots and lots. Way too many. So Annoying. Hair bands, well, hmmmm. The plastic ones eventually give me a headache. I guess I have a big head and they squeeze ? The softer hairbands, as long as they are anchored with hair pins, actually work BUT they cover my hearing aids causing two things to happen: one, I cannot hear becoz the receiver is covered and two, they squeal becoz the receiver is covered. Dang. Hair gel? Sort of works as long as it's in partnership with clips, pins or barrettes. On it's own it does little to nothing. I know there are more powerful hair glues' out there. But I choose not to invest more money in something that I am unsure about. Also I hate it when my hair looks like a helmet or a wig. And that leaves hats as an option. I like hats. I own a few. I wear my ballcap every time Joy and I hike. And I generally wear a wide brimmed hat when I walk outside. But as an inside thing? nahhhhhh. I don't think so. Scarlet O'Hara pulled it off, but she was probably the very last woman to do so. Which left me wondering what options I had left. I did a little googling about growing out bangs and saw a wonderful video of a young woman doing magical things with a curling iron. Curling! Great idea! Well I don't have a curling iron. I do, however, have a flat iron. Now why a person with straight hair would own a flat iron, I have no idea. It was so old I wasn't even sure it would work! Turns out, if you fiddle with the on switch long enough, yes, it does turn on and it does heat up. Yay! Let's give this a whirl! The results were not good. I do not have a natural aptitude for hairdressing as it turns out. Oh well. Back to a different instructional video (love You Tube) on working hair magic with a flat iron instead. I watched that video several times in a row, hoping to have absorbed enough technique to duplicate it. Nope. No bueno. I was able to get the end to curl up for a Very short time but the bangs went crazy. With the least amount of encouragement they went total frizz. Yikes! If I tried to cool the flat iron at all, the bangs defied all effort and remained stick straight. So those were my options, frizz or straight. Sigh. There was one last possible option. Electric rollers. I had some long ago and while I didn't use them often, I was always (or almost always) pleased with the results. I did a little online research, found a set that wasn't horribly expensive but seemed to have everything I remembered needing in the past. I talked to Tim about it, he was agreeable and did his own research. They were ordered and arrived yesterday. How cute are these? I was so excited to try them out this morning. Now bear in mind that it's been a very long time since I've used these and that meant things were not going to go perfectly the first or tenth time. I forgot how dang hot they get, burned my finger tips a little bit. Didn't remember correct placement of the different sizes. Also did not recall whether to roll them up or down. So I did what I always do, I faked it. Just jumped in, as if I had a clue, and slapped those babies in as best I could. Several rollers had to be re-done, one of them more than once. but eventually I got all of the hair (or at least most of my hair) properly corralled. Yeah, I know, not the best job ever. I'm sure with time and practice my technique will improve. Or at least, gosh, I certainly hope so! Yikes. Can you imagine if this is it? This is the best that i can do? Wowza. Anyway, I couldn't remember how long to leave them in, so basically I left them in place until they weren't hot anymore. Seemed like a good plan. At least I didn't burn my fingers taking them back out! Bonus! I carefully unrolled each one, putting the rollers and clips back in their proper place and then I left it alone. Just left it completely alone. I did a quick google search on tips for using hot rollers. One of the rips said exactly that (Love it when my instincts are correct). It then suggested using a bit of hair spray before brushing. Before brushing? OOOKKKAAAYYY. I don't get it but I was open to new ideas and willing to try. Results: Yeah, it's not perfect, not by a long shot, BUT my hair is out of my eyes and I think I can live with this.
Obviously this will not be a daily thing. Too much work, too much effort, too much time, too much fussing, but I'm so happy to have this as an option! I'm sure with more practice I will get better at it. Never Great but better. And in the meantime, it's still an improvement. No clips, no hair gel and no hats required. First of all, Thank you to Joy for the above photo! She is so dang clever! Are you buckled in and ready for another Photo Safari Report? The weather has not been conducive to hiking lately so we were lucky to sneak this one in. We left even earlier in the morning on Thursday to get ahead of the predicted rainstorm AND the worst of the heat and humidity. And I'm happy to report that our plan worked! Welcome to the Early Morning Hike. The ground and the green stuff was heavy with the previous nights rain when we started out so in very short order our socks and shoes were soaked. No worries. We are not put off by a little inconvenience and we forged on. The bonus is that we got some pretty water drop pictures. We'll start with just a couple of them, if you don't mind: We heard more birds than we saw, so we knew they were out there, somewhere, but the lush and somewhat overgrown trails and full, robustly leafed out trees made for too many good hiding places to get a lot of bird pictures. But I got three. That's it, just three. Of course I'll share (whether you ask me to or not!): I think we both recognized early on that this would end up being, mostly, a botanical hike (flowers later). What I didn't realize was how many insects I would manage to capture. A few I didn't even know about until after I got home and was editing. A nice surprise : Ready for some pretty flowers now? I will try to keep them to a minimum, only the best ones, I promise: By the time we finished up at Curry Creek, it was still early enough that, even though it was getting hot, we figured, what the heck. We are already sweaty and dirty, what's a little bit more? So we decided make aquick stop at the Rookery. Make up for the lack of bird photos from Curry Creek, maybe? Oh yeah, we found more birds :) Hope you like bird pictures because I got some : A naturally, I cannot do a Photo Safari Report without at least a couple of rando's for ya: As they summer steams forward, in more ways than one, we will still, occasionally, find a way to get out there and fight out way through overgrown trails, flooded pathways, up hills and over fallen trees. Prepare yourselves, because now and again, there will be more Photo Safari Reports to come. Hope you enjoyed the Early Morning Hike.
Have a GREAT Weekend! Hugs all 'round Like a most places in the world right now, we are having some super hot days. Which isn't all that unusual, this is July and it is Florida, so there is an expectation of sunshine. But the thing is, this is supposed to be the rainy season and we have been seeing precious little of that. I t's been day after day of hot, sweltering, scorching, roasting, searing, parching, blistering, sun. And then last night, while we were sitting around relaxing in the family room (and it is so nice to be able to write that, by the way) we heard thunder. And our ears perked up. But not our expectations. We've been fooled before. During this record breaking heat, we've gotten our hopes up way too many times. Heard the thunder, even seen the lightening, the sky gets darker and darker and then, and then, and then.....nothing. Dang. So we didn't dare hope too hard. In fact, by the time we went to bed, the sound of the thunder had passed and the ground was just as dry as it was before and the air was just as hot, even in the darkness. Which mean that waking up to rain bright and early this morning was an unexpected delight! Somewhere during the night or in the wee hours of morning, finally, the rain came! I wanted to go out and dance in it! Do a full on Gene Kelly, "singing in the rain" musical number in the courtyard! By the time I was showered and dressed, it had backed off a little bit and there was just the merest sprinkle tickling the shrubbery. But I grabbed my camera and my rubber flipflops and stepped out side anyway. It was still warm but comparatively, much better. It was still humid (duh...rain is the ultimate humidity). But instead of feeling oppressive and stifling it felt exhilarating! I love that smell! Floral, Green, Dirt and Rain is a heady combo. The first thing I noticed was how all of the green growing stuff had perked up. Happy Happy Happy!! The second thing was that the birdbath, which I had cleaned but not refilled - (malaria mosquito alert which is a whole other thing) - was completely full to overflowing. A sure indicator of a terrific storm! Hurrah! I took a few photos. Of course I did!~ Maybe now we are back to a more normal Florida summer where yes, it's hot and it's humid, but every day or perhaps even every other day, there is some rain. Then we can return be being lush and green and floral and we will have enough water to get us through the rest of the year when i is no sort of humid at all.
I feel a little like those folks, way back when, who, out of desperation, would hire a "Rainmaker" to resolve a drought and save their farms during the dustbowl era of the 1930's. Curiously, the 'dustbowl' was caused by poor land management. Effectively, too many people making really bad decisions about how they treated their little piece of our planet. Some people are saying that our current world-wide heatwave originated with similar mindset and behaviours. A shame. Why didn't we learn from our own past? That is the purpose of history, right? To learn from. It's why we are taught history in school. Not just to practice by memorizing names and dates to pass a test but so that we can learn from our mistakes. Make better decisions, better choices, have a better outcome. sigh. Meanwhile, I am delighted in our rain today and, according to the weather report, we should have more rain all week long. Not every minute of every day, but rain at some point every day this week. No idea what will happen after that or even how accurate the prediction is. So, much like everything outside soaking in that lovely rain and getting happy and healthy again, I will just enjoy what I have. Funny how in years past, I've written about how annoying the daily rain is, soaking Tim and I when an unexpected shower passes overhead while we are out for a walk or interrupting an outside event, or just the cabin fever from being stuck inside. This year, I cannot imagine complaining about it. Give us, this day, our daily rain! I'm sure you've already realized this, but just in case you have not, isn't this kind of a cool similarity?
On the left is a pretty painting of mountain peaks with the river valley between them and on the right are the peaks and valleys of a heartbeat as shown on a heart monitor print out. Peaks and Valleys, Peaks and Valleys, yup that's life! And it's perfectly normal and expected to have those sorts of highs and lows throughout your life. Good times and Bad, Happiness and Sadness, Joy and Sorrow, Delight and Anger and then all of the regular normal ordinary days in between. Here is the thing I am slowly realizing about myself. The older I get, the more I do not like the extremes. The high highs and the low lows are no longer desirable. They are uncool, as we used to say back in the day. I no longer have any interest in personal theatrics. Perhaps it's more that I no longer have the energy required for them. In short, I no longer find any enjoyment in the "Verys" of life. Very sad, Very angry, Very annoyed, Very anything, even the good Very's just wear me out. Very Happy! Very Excited ! Very Silly! I'm exhausted just typing the words. On the other hand, ordinary happy, excited or silly is still great. Regular sad, angry or annoyed is, well not great because those are negative words, but hey, stuff happens in life so there is going to be some of it and I can deal just fine with a standard amount of the bad stuff. It applies to everything in my life nowadays, not just emotions. I am no longer easy going about extreme weather. You know what I'm talking about, the Very Hot and Very Cold times of year are just less easily tolerated by me now. The super hot and humid days just lay me flat. When I spend any significant amount of time outside in the middle of August, I'm going to have to have a little rest before I move on to anything else once I've returned to the safety of the Air Conditioned indoors. I used to be so blasé about it! And on those few super chilly, hovering around the freezing mark days at the pinnacle of winter, I'm bundled up and drinking hot things and cuddled under sofa blankets, teeth chattering and shivering. Once upon a time, I just wore long pants and a sweater and I was good to go. I'm concerned that as I get even older I will continue along this vein until I'm one of those annoying old ladies who keeps her house thermostat at 80 year 'round while also wearing two sweaters and heavy socks and complaining about how cold I am. That's terrifying. I find myself eschewing foods that are too spicy, too hot, too bland (but then who likes that?) or even too cold. Brain freeze anyone? I was always kind of picky about food, lately I'm pickier than even me. AND if I don't like it, I will not eat it. I won't make a big deal out of it, but you cannot compel me through any means to eat something I am not enjoying. I don't like clothes that are too tight or actually that really touch me much at all and I avoid shoes that are very tall which means any sort of heel at all really. The shoe thing is not because I don't like the way it looks or feels but because at this point I'm kind of concerned that I may fall off or out of them! It's a reasonable concern. Which kind of leads into buying anything I consider "Very" expensive and currently that's almost anything. The cost of everything is kind of outrageous and feel outraged is a "very" emotion that I am just not in the mood for so unless it is something absolutely essential (and few things are) frankly I would rather not have something than spend a Very large amount of money on it. I avoid buying or selecting anything that I deem Very trendy because that means at some point I will have to replace it or risk looking Very Out of Date and Out of Style. Although, as time passes, I'm not sure how much I care about either of those things either. I avoid places that are Very crowded or Very noisy whenever possible and I'm uncomfortable when roads are Very busy and cars are going Very fast. Of course it's my interpretation of what constitutes the "very" element of all of these things. What I find myself gravitating toward is level, average, ordinary, normal, perhaps even boring and dull. I shoot for the middle. Drama does not suit me, take it elsewhere please. Pleasant is good and nice is delightful. I am easily amused, happy to be content and what's more, I make no apologies for it. I dear that I am becoming increasingly boring and yet fear is a "Very" emotion and therefore, I dismiss it out of hand. My peaks and valleys are looking more and more like a croquet field now. And it's all good. You go ahead an have whatever sort of weekend you like. Mine will be perfectly fine. So here I am people! This is Sam at Seventy. Yikes! Getting to be quite the old crone eh? Still, as they say, it could always be worse. Of course the thing they never mention is that it could also, be better! Hmmmm. Not sure just yet how I feel about being seventy years old. It sounds positively ancient. Right up there with Methuselah and the Pyramids. Still I had an absolutely delightful birthday weekend and feel well celebrated, so I guess I cannot really complain.
Since my actual birthday was yesterday, today's post will hold with my usual birthday blog tradition of posting the Birthday Rules! Ready or not, here they come: BIRTHDAY RULES 1. Number one and most important on this hit parade: It's all about the birthday person. It really is. No exceptions. If it's your birthday, everything that day is about you. Period. 2. Of course, to be absolutely fair, I am not a person who really likes being the center of a big crowd of people. But a small, comfortable, familiar crowd is fine. In fact it's awesome. A small group of people that I really care about it absolutely perfect. If that group consists of me and one other person, sometimes that is the best group of all. 3. And there should be at least one treat that a person rarely has, like cake. Or ice cream. Or cake AND ice cream. And for heaven's sakes, if a person is going to indulge, it should be the good stuff. The real deal. No fake, crappy substitutes. And speaking as a person with Lactose Intolerance, if I'm going to suffer later, I want the suffering to be worthwhile, which means the ice cream must be primo. 4. There should be a few cards, some of them should have sparkles, some flowers, some funny, some touching or maybe thought provoking. I like cards. I set them up on top of the big display cabinet in the living room and admire them for far too long afterwards. 5. There should be some sort of contact from people far away, whether it's phone calls or emails or texts or facebook posts or telepathic thoughts, heaps of good wishes from folks far away makes a birthday extra special. To think that all of those people bothered to take the time to acknowledge your existence on your birthday shows that you matter in this life. That's important. 6. There should be no chores on your birthday. Not one single solitary gotta-do should be done by the birthday celebrant. Those things can either wait a day to be done, or someone else needs to do them. I'm immovable on this fact. 7. The birthday person gets to choose what or where to eat for dinner. And no matter what they choose, that's what dinner is. Doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. It is the ONE day of the entire year where nobody else's likes/dislikes/or personal opinion should take precedence regarding food. 8. It should be a happy day. Only positive comments and thoughts please. It should be a day of smiles and laughter. If there is something negative or sad that needs to be said, keep it to yourself for one more day. Not even boredom is allowed. There you have it! Remember those rules when your birthday rolls around. These rules must be true because With Age Comes Wisdom and baby, I have plenty of age. I must be extremely wise by now. Much like that sun, right now it feels a lot like I'm melting. It's hot out. Not just hot, it's super hot. It's super de dooper hot. And I guess that sounds kind of silly because after all this is July which is a summer month and summers, traditionally, are hot. And then there is the fact that we live in Florida, the Sunshine State, a place people visit intentionally because of all the sunshine. But this is hot beyond that. The entire planet has been setting new hotness records! Kind of crazy.
Recently, we had a day where the "feels like" temperature was 113. That seems excessive don't you think? Right this minute, while it's only 87 degrees Farenheit outside, the "feels like" is 101. What on earth? How does that even happen? On the brighter side, I don't, currently, see a 'heat index warning' which we've had every day for at least a week now, so that's a nice change. Geez! I know that this sort of heat is going on all over this country, not just where I live. I think it's even happening in other countries as well. I apologize because I haven't really been following the story. Not my usual style, I know. Normally, I am fascinated by information of any sort. But, uncharacteristically, mostly right now, I'm grateful for air conditioning, drinking lots of water and trying to think cool thoughts. Things like: polar bears, the Ullr Fest in Breckinridge Colorado, The Frozen Dead Guy Festival in Nederland Colorado (for real!) popsicles, ice cream, ice bergs, ice water, ice sculpture festivals (ice is a strong theme here) and the days I work as a docent at the Museum where, inside it's still Very Cold and I wear long pants and bring a sweater every day. I think about the first house my parents had in Connecticut which had a big pool that was unheated and sometimes, diving into it was like diving into a glass of ice water. Very brisk and refreshing. I remember having very chilly feet while wading along the water's edge (while wearing sneakers because of sharp rocks, shells and barnacles) up in Maine, where the water is cold year 'round. Remembering standing over the heat register in California on a cool morning, dressing in front of the woodstove in the kitchen of the very old farmhouse in Connecticut and being bundled in so many layers of coats, snow pants, scarves, hats and mittens in St Louis that I could barely move. Odd memories pop into my head like the specific smell of wet mittens drying on the radiator, the scent of breathing through a wet woolen scarf, the taste of an icicle we knocked off the side of the house, coming inside after playing in the snow with rosy chapped faces and runny noses and the feel of my frozen hair when I would go outside right without first drying my very long hair. I remember that squeaky and then crunchy sound of being the first person to break through the crust of a heavy snowfall and the struggle of getting galoshes on over my shoes (and then once again, trying to get them back off). I remember shoveling snow over and over throughout a long winter and hands that were so cold, even while wearing gloves or mittens, that my fingers ached. I recall huddling behind anything bigger than me - telephone poles, parked cars and trees - while waiting for the bus on a frosty windy winter morning as a kid. And if there were none of those things around, just turning my back on a particularly fierce and stinging gust. Instead of complaining about the 'heat index' I vividly recall whining about 'wind chill factors'. Over long Thanksgiving weekends, when we lived in Colorado, Tim and I would go up into the mountains to visit the town of Estes Park where, on the evening after Turkey Day, there would be an "illuminated parade". People would be all bundled up against the cold and wind and sometimes snow, drinking Hot Chocolate, Hot Coffee, Hot tea while lining the streets, waiting for the parade and then on the walk back to the Hotel we would find ourselves walking next to enormous Elk who, apparently, also watched the parade. As a Kid I remember intentionally trying to make designs, like "smoke rings" breathing with our mouths in different shapes into the frigid air. On the farm, I recall using a shovel to break the ice on the top of the water source for the cows and horses, sometimes several times a day and bringing in load after load of wood to keep the woodstove going. Smaller, faster memories: Getting "brain freeze" from drinking a Slushy too fast, having a purple tongue and lips from purple popsicles, the glitter and prisms on the ice coated bushes and trees as the sun rises the morning after an ice storm, making snow angels and snowmen, trying to walk or at least stay upright on an icy side walk, wearing thick heavy oversized sweaters and knee socks with tall boots and still feeling chilly and I remember being so cold all of the time that it seemed as if I would never be warm again. Ahhh Memories! Ok that'll help for a little bit. I'm ready now to head outside to water the potted garden and get all hot and sweaty again. Please stay safe in this terrible heat. Hopefully, it will settle down to a more normal sort of summer weather very shortly. Have a good weekend and hugs all 'round. Happy 247th Birthday America! Dang, you look good for your age :) heh Hope everybody had a fun and safe Independence Day! Because the 4th landed on a Tuesday this year, Tim was lucky enough to mostly have a 4-day weekend. He had to get some work done for the job, but there was also non-work related time and Yahoo to that. No matter how much a person may love their job, downtime is important too. That whole work/life balance thing. It's real! Most of the weekend was dedicated to getting stuff done. We did a LOT. I mean a LOTTA LOT ! Including Tim having to replace the battery in his car because it unexpectedly and without warning gave up the ghost on Saturday. Dang. He was smart and set up this large canopy thing we have literally over the car so he was working in the shade. It was super hot out all weekend. One of those Heat Index of 110F sort of weekends so that canopy was a brilliant idea. Tim also spent a lot of time getting the baseboards in the family room very nearly finished. The only thing left is around the backdoor and that has to wait for the door trim to be done. I really love the way it looks. Harkens me back to our New England roots a bit and that suits me right down to my toes. A little caulk and a little paint and it will be perfect. I had my own project going that day. At our most recent Minock visit we were the lucky recipients of this beautiful wooden planter that the Mister made for us! Wow! To keep the wood safe (as it lives outside where the elements are) I decided to paint it. I am very pleased with how it turned out. Now I just need to figure out what to put in it! Isn't it fabulous? Another exciting part of our 4-day holiday weekend was our new table & chairs! Here's the story behind that! When we first moved here, we brought very little with us. Our Colorado house was more than twice the size of our current house so first of all we didn't need nearly as much furniture but also the proportions of the rooms wasn't the same plus furniture with a Colorado feel just doesn't suit Florida. So we decided (way back then, 7 years ago now) to just get rid of (most of) it and start over. Once we got here, after the kitchen was finished being reno'd and the ishkabibble of being under construction was done (for the moment) we began slowly buying new furniture that suited our new home. When it came time to look for a dining table we ended up buying one of those higher tables. I think they call it a bar top or bar height. It made sense at the time.. Because we have not just the table in the dining area of the kitchen but also a peninsula with a seating area it seemed (again, at the time) to be a good idea to have it all the same height. That way, the chairs could be used in either place. Eventually we got a second table, a round one for the family room, also bar height so that, once again, the chairs could be used at any of 3 places! Smart eh? Well, smart perhaps, but when the only place to sit leaves your little feet dangling all the time and you have to kind of climb up to sit down well, honestly, it kind of made me feel like I was sitting in a high chair. Like a giant baby! Which I sometimes am, but that's beside the point. Additionally, and oddly, the higher chairs are also harder to push in, especially if you are already sitting in it. Think about it. If your feet don't touch the floor, how do you scootch in? Answer? You don't. It's not possible. And it turned out that Tim felt the same way. So we started looking for a replacement kitchen/dining table. We found several that we liked everything about except the price tag. And so we waited. And waited. And waited. Tim happened to notice a set that we liked during a huge sale! We talked about it and decided YES! The set was ordered and was supposed to take 6-8 weeks to arrive. We anticipated it's arrival some time in August perhaps. Nope. It got here Monday! Awesome! So Tim spent a lot of Monday putting together the new dining table and chairs. And I spent a lot of Monday breaking down GIANT boxes and gathering up endless yards of Styrofoam and other packing material and then vacuuming like a fiend to get every last little bit. Ultimately though, it was worth the time and the money because it looks great and we no longer have to sit in high chairs at our own table. Now we just need to find a home for the old table! Here's a few pictures of the new table and chairs. There are actually six chairs but I only put 4 at the table for now. The other two are scattered through the house. There is a butterfly leaf by the way, to make the table bigger when we need to :) We did manage to find our way to the beach one evening. After all of the work we did all weekend, it was a lovely to hit that refresh button. We just stood there and breathed, watched the water, the birds, the dolphins and the manatees. There were lots of boats and lots of people but none of that mattered one single bit. Here's a few photos: Ahhhh. I feel more relaxed just looking at the pictures :)
By last night, which was the actual holiday, we were too pooped to make the effort to walk over to the beach to watch the fireworks. We heard them though, and I'm sure they were beautiful because they always are. So that was our long Holiday weekend. How was yours? This little flamingo wind-up toy is just one of many 'toys' you might notice if you prowled around our house for a bit. The toys aren't overt. It isn't as if there was a giant toy box in the middle of the living room. But they are tucked in here and there all over the place. And furthermore, I am absolutely unapologetic about them. I have been accused many times of being childish and they always say it as if it was a bad thing. For example, I have been straight up accused of having the palate of a child - which is sort of true. I'm not very adventurous about food and I am resistant to the concept of eating healthy food simply because it is healthy. If I'm eating something, it's because I like it and it tastes good. If it also happens to be healthy, all the better. But no way am I eating yucky food simply based on it's determined health status. Nope. Additionally, I cannot begin to enumerate the number of times I was told that I wasn't dressing my age or acting my age. My response was, and still is, "since this is the way I am acting (or dressing) and this is the age that I am, obviously I am acting (or dressing) my age". I guess this idiosyncratic behaviour has carried over to the way we have chosen to decorate our house. I did not wake up one day and decide to eat a certain way or dress or act or think as certain way because someone has decided that it is a childish way to be. It's not rebellion. Not at all. I am just being true to myself. And the older I get, the determined I am to be who I am. Which is funny because I told my own children their entire lives to "be who you are" and "don't let anyone else decide who you are". And yet, it's taken me a very long time to do that for myself. To be comfortable just being who I am, making no excuses and no apologies. Personally I prefer to think of myself as being quirky or perhaps a little whimsical. Other folks have called it weird. And my feeling about that is, "Luckily for me, you have no vote in my personal choices". I have no idea why these silly little things appeal to me, but they delight me beyond measure. All of them were gifts and I treasure them. In fact, because they were given to me, sometimes even were made for Tim or me, they mean even more. Like I said before, these things aren't heaped in a pile somewhere, they are randomly placed here, there and everywhere. Most of them are fairly subtle and you might not notice at first. Here are a few of the things you might spy: There is a toy cat's paw by the landline in the living room. If you pull the trigger you get either a purring sound or a kitty growl. There are a few stuffed bears around. One of them, the original "little bear" of the Little Bear children's book series, sits guard on the book shelf dedicated to children's books. Which makes sense to me. Two other bears are hanging around on the self with the photo albums. Who knows what sort of mischief they get into when we aren't looking? There is a tiny ceramic fish in the guest bathroom instead of a bar of soap because, well, why not? I seem to have a number of things that spin. Not sure why that is so, but it is. They seem to live in unusual spots: There is a kaleidoscope in the cookbook section of the bookshelf. Why? I don't know, for inspiration purposes? So I can take a moment to see things differently? I t's just where a kaleidoscope seemed to belong. And there is a sailboat on the table beneath the mirror in the entry Not all of the whimsy is actually toys, some of it is just stuff I love and cannot bear to part with. Things like, oh, I don't know, jars of things. Why do I have these ? I honestly could not tell you. But they make me smile and that matters. There are a couple of unintentional collections of things: seashells, which at least makes sense since we live by the beach and pinecones because, I don't know, why not pine cones. I especially like the jaunty blue jay feather: There are two 3-D cards that I love so much I have permanently integrated them into the decor. Decor? I'm not sure we have decor. We have stuff we like but I'm not positive it could be called something as lofty as "decor". Anyway, the cards: There is a small lobster trap sitting atop the books about Maine, what appears to be a red swirled hershey kiss in the kitchen windows sill (it's actually a ring holder), a dragonfly shaped item that I believe is supposed to be for keeping earrings but instead it's in the bookcase on the "reference" shelf and a small sequined "christmas tree" in the pencil jar on my desk. So I suppose you could say that we are childish or maybe child-like, which is far more charming. Maybe odd or eccentric truly is the correct term. Whatever it is, it's part of who we are. And we have surrounded ourselves with the things we love, which in turn, makes us happy.
In the end, isn't that really the most important part? A Ceiling Fan! Down here in the Sunshine State, fans are absolute essentials. We have ours going year 'round. In the summer the fans are in addition to Air Conditioning, in winter of course, window open and without AC. We have ceiling fans in every room of the house, except bathrooms. And this weekend, they got a real workout. The weekend started out great! Saturday was a Minock Day! We drove up to our friends house, a couple of hours away, and spent a wonderful day with them. We had lunch at a charming little place beside a river and we ate outside under the trees while watching turtles swimming by (and one alligator). We talked, we laughed, we caught up and had the best time ever, as we always do. We left much later than we intended (Time really does fly by when you are having a good time!) and got home a little after 9. Once we got home, in very short order, we realized that it seemed to be warmer than usual inside. Tim did a little checking and oh yeah, it was a whole lot warmer than usual. Somehow, the Air Conditioning stopped working shortly after we left in the morning. Oh dear. Tim did what he could to try to nudge it back into functionality but nope, it wasn't happening. This was a problem. It was hot outside with almost no breeze and it was equally hot inside but at least inside we had the fans. The fans were only circulating hot air, but a breeze is a breeze. After a little testing, it appeared that the coolest room in the house was the new room, the family room, so clearly that was where we were spending the night. It was 85 degrees in the family room (once again, the coolest room in the house) so getting comfortable wasn't easy. I settled into my usual spot on the sofa, layed back against the cushions, closed my eyes and tried to think cool thoughts. Poor Tim was miserable. He tried and tried to get comfortable but it just wasn't happening. Neighter of us really slept, we merely dozed and sweated, alternately. Tim ended up laying on the floor which was probably the coolest spot (cold air sinks y'see) but any improvement was marginal. It was a Long Hot Summer Night and not in a good way. By dawn's early light, with gritty sleep deprived eyes, we gave up trying to pretend to sleep and got set up for our day. Tim resumed trying to get the AC to behave and I tried to think of something to do that didn't involve heating up the house even more. So no doing laundry and No cooking. Hmmmmmm. Eventually, after all other attempts had failed, a phone call was made to an emergency AC guy. There comes a point when you gotta call in the experts and this was one of them. The technician promised to be there by early afternoon. So what do you do while you wait? Not much. We both attempted to do useful things, stuff on the gotta-do list but realized very quickly that once we started getting heated up working, there would be no way to cool down. This was going to be a day of laying low. I wore the coolest clothes I could think of and pinned my hair up. While we waited, mostly we sat on the sofa reading, watching old re-runs on TV and sweating. As the sun came up and got brighter and higher in the sky, we also watched the temperature gauge rise. It was maddening. At long last, our hero arrive in a white vehicle (not a white horse of course, but still thematically correct). It took him about an hour to check and test, check and test so many different parts of the system and then finally seize on where the problem originated. Once discovered, it was simply a matter of fixing it. Which he did! We gratefully paid the outrageous cost and sent him on his way with many thanks.
Afterwards, it was just a matter of waiting for the temperature to start to go back down. Just so you know, it took all day and well into the night. As I said, it was a long hot summer night and honestly the only difference between this event and the 11 days without AC after Hurricane Irma in 2017, was that this time we still had power so we were saved by the fans. I have seen so very many decorating shows where the first thing the experts say in any room is to get rid of the ceiling fans. I vote no on that. Not just no but hell no. I don't care how they look esthetically, our ceiling fans stay. Hope your weekend was much cooler :) Welcome to another Photo Safari Report! Despite the rising temperature, strong breeze and overcast skies, Joy and I headed out on another hike. This time, at Joy's brilliant suggestion, we specifically went to Myakka State Park. There is a driving road that goes all the way through this beautiful place with lots of little trails leading from it. The reasoning was that we could hike for a bit and then cool off in the car as we drove to the next spot over and over. Genius! A great way to avoid heat stroke. Therefore, I am calling this the Air Conditioned Hike! Even though we arrived plenty early, initially we were a little disappointed. There didn't seem to be many photo opportunities. Well that's not fair. There are always pretty things just begging to be captured on camera. And of course I did get those. Ferns and reflections and interesting trees and the endless fields of yellow wildflowers...... Gorgeous! Speaking of flowers, while most of them were those bright golden ones, there were a few others here and there: But what we were looking for, hoping for, really was wildlife. And initially, nothin, not even birds! What the what? Where did everybody go? Eventually, Joy's eagle eye spied this adorable sweet baby trying to stay cool in a shady spot: It was as if, once we finally found one, suddenly, there was no end to the wonderful creatures we saw. They were everywhere and in every direction: And then there were the birds. Oh my gracious, so very many wonderful birds! Including, my very first Meadowlark ever! Their reputation for having a Beautiful song is well deserved. And in fact, at first I was so stunned by hearing the song that I couldn't remember to take a doggone photo. Joy had to prompt me (thank you Jo). I just stood there like a dolt, listening and marveling. Anyway, birds: (I will identify the ones I know for sure - the rest- I'm not positive) Not only did we not get too miserably hot and sweaty (and worn out) on this Air Conditioned Hike, we also got some great shots and got to spend the morning together which is always a good thing. I will leave you with a few rando photos and wishes for a terrific weekend! Hurrah for Father's Day! Hope all the Dad's in your life were well celebrated. Neither Tim nor I have a father to celebrate on that day any longer, sadly. But! Tim is a Step-Father and that counts! So I, for sure, wanted to make it a special day for him. In our family, we kind of let the person being celebrated own the day. It's all about them. Whatever they want to do, wherever they want to go, they are in charge completely. They dictate the foods, the activities, the tone of the day. Tim is a really easy going guy and he didn't care what he had for dinner or dessert. He didn't have anything in particular in mind so I made grilled chicken burrito's and loaded them up with so much stuff! Refried beans, spanish rice, sauteed onions and peppers, cheeses, avocado, shredded lettuce and, of course, the chicken. Top that off with hot sauce and you have a very filling meal! Chocolate cupcakes with white icing for dessert. He was happy with that! As far as Father's Day Activities go, well, since it was up to him, he decided that there were a couple of things he wanted to get done that were weighing on him. Just little housey things off the gotta-do list. That's what he wanted to do and it was his choice entirely. So Ok! And then, he just wanted a nice, relaxing, easy peasy, restful remainder of his day. Since it was a super rainy day, that worked out perfectly. Watching TV, reading, playing a few games, maybe sneaking in a little nap too. Rainy days are kind of automatically restful. We were well planted in the house for the day. In fact, the only time we left the house was in the morning. We dashed out through the pouring rain to get donuts. They were dang good too! And there was the gift. We don't usually do anything big for each other anymore. Not for any traditional gift giving day. At Christmas, we only exchange stockings, for birthdays it's usually something very small, flowers, candy, maybe a book. So for Mother's Day or Father's Day, or any other remotely gift giving sort of day, we normally go even smaller. Cards for sure and then maybe one other tiny thing. This year however, on Mother's Day, Tim didn't just get me flowers, he gave me FLOWERS! An enormous gorgeous lush bouquet packed with two of my favourites: Roses and Hydrangea. It was in a lovely, huge vase and the fragrance filled the entire house for more than a week. Wow! He outdid himself. This was not little fistful of carnations and freesia (which I also love, don't get me wrong) So I felt compelled to respond in kind and do something BIG for him as well. And that's where I got stuck. Here is a confession. I'm not a very good gift giver. I'm just not. I don't know why. It's not as if I'm terrible at it. I've heard stories of people receiving old used out of date pantry items as gifts! Gosh I'm not that bad. But I'm not great either. Somehow I was just not blessed with the sort of creativity and genius that so many other people in my family have of choosing the exact perfect, thoughtful, inspired gift that stays in my memory and heart forever. Dang it. I've been the delighted recipient of many of those sorts of gifts and I so wish I could respond in kind. For example, all of my kids are brilliant at gift giving. Every gift I've ever gotten from my children is that thing I never knew I always wanted! I do so wish I could do the same for them. It's not as if I don't care, I care!!! It's not as if I don't try! I try, I try like crazy! And I search and I shop and I wrack my brain 'til it about explodes and still, either whatever I select is just okay. When I try to think of an idea on my own it ends up being a kindly 'thank you very much' sort of gift because my children are very polite. But I can tell. I can tell when I've missed the mark ...............again. When they were little, I would have them make up a wish list and then I would select three items off the list, one from Santa, one from their dad and one from me. That way, they definitely received something they really wanted. BUT it wasn't a surprise y'know? Now that they are grown, at my request, they still send me wish lists, which I REALLY appreciate. I select from that wish list, order it online and have it shipped directly. They receive something they really need or want and there is nothing wrong with that, but again, it's not a surprise. It's not that thing that they do for me, the thing they never knew they always wanted. It's it makes me so sad that I cannot seem to do it back. I am the same way with ever gift I give and it gives me such gift-giving anxiety! ARGH! So here I am trying to think of something extra special to do for Tim for Father's Day. Not just the usual small thing where he already probably knows what it is. I wanted to surprise him for once! And I thought and I considered and puzzled for weeks and came up with nothin'. I was resigned to picking up a usual boring thing until one night, as I watched him have a little snack of cheese and crackers and this word popped into my head: Charcuterie. Yes! That is Tim. That is a perfect idea! It's certainly different than any other idea for him I've ever had. I did a little online research and found that 1) Wow! Expensive! 2) not everything in a pre-made charcuterie package is something he would want and 3) $$$$$ holy crap! At first I was a little discouraged, and then it occurred to me that I could custom create a Tim-centric charcuterie. I spent some time searching and selecting thing locally, chortling with glee the entire time. Finally I had enough stuff to call it good. The trick now was hiding it until Father's Day. The non-refridgerated stuff was easy. The refridgerator stuff was a little trickier. I ended up depending on the honour system. That stuff went into a bag within a bag within a bag, at the back of the fridge with two giant notes on it saying, "DO NOT TOUCH" with multiple exclamation points. He was good and did not touch. But he did wonder :) In the end, he was indeed surprised and pleased with his charcuterie bowl (I presented it in a pasta serving bowl). Let's call it a charcuTIMerie. heh It pleased me so much to finally, finally, FINALLY come up with an idea on my own that was a good one. A gift that he did not expect, totally deserved and was a happy surprise! (Late yesterday and early this morning I thought of multiple other things I could have added, but of course afterward the fact. Not when it would have been useful. (sigh) My brain is so strange.) Anyway, here is what I put together: s
This was, the one and only time, in my entire gift giving life, that I pulled this off so don't get your hopes up people. This was a fluke. It's like putting an infinite number of monkeys at an infinite number of keyboards and assuming that eventually one of them will present Shakespeare. I will always give gifts and I, hopefully, give decent ones. But not creative, wonderful, inspired gifts. The gifts that my loved ones deserve and I wish I was capable of providing. Still, this one time, I did do it. Hope your Father's Day was wonderful for you and the Father's and father figures in your life! (and that you are a better gift giver than I am!) Ok here's one for you from the "Duh" files. Or at least the, "You don't know what you don't know" department.
This is where I iron. I know that most people do not iron anymore, but I do. It's a house chore that I not only don't mind, I rather like it. I bring order out of chaos, tidy out of not so tidy, smooth to the wrinkled and well, it's a pleasant chore for me. Yeah, I know, I'm very odd. ANYWAY, Way back when we first moved here, I always dragged the ironing board, hangars, the pile of stuff all out to the family room from the utility room (where that stuff otherwise lives) each time I was going to iron which is generally, twice a week. I did that so I could have some old movie or the TLC channel or something I had recorded and saved on the TV to watch or at least listen to and semi-watch while I ironed. And then when the construction on the family room began, I had to move my ironing station to the kitchen where I am completely in the way of anyone (that would be Tim) who wants another cup of coffee or a drink or water or to go out to the utility room or...any number of other things. Now the family room is back and I find myself reluctant to return to ironing in the family room. Not because I enjoy being in people's way (although in a passive-aggressive way I suppose it's a bonus) but because I don't' have to haul all the equipment alllllllll the way through the utility room, the kitchen, the eating part of the kitchen (ok we will call it a dining area) and the living room to get there. It's a shorter trip. I'm lazy, so sue me. So what happens is, I bring in the pile of stuff to iron and hangars, set up the ironing board, plug the iron in to the outlet on the end of the peninsula and I'm ready to rock'n'roll or at least, I'm ready to iron. I've been doing this for quite some time now. That same outlet is where I charge my camera, plug in my giant mixer and you know how often I use that (all the time!!), and occasionally, plug in my hair dryer if the bathroom is otherwise occupied. In short I use that outlet a lot. Every day probably. Well, today I set up the ironing board, plugged in the iron, selected my first item to press and, and, and, nothing. Iron was just as cold as a frosty morning. What? Did I kill another iron? I am not certain why, but I do seem to use up irons far more frequently than seems strictly necessary. ARGH! I hate wearing wrinkled clothes and I hate even more offering Tim wrinkled clothes to wear. Dang. "Well", I thought to myself. "There's nothing to be done about it right now. Perhaps over the weekend we can go out and buy a new iron". I resigned myself to being wrinkley for a few days and started to put things away. And then it occurred to me. What if it's not the iron? What if it's the outlet? So I experimentally plugged the iron into the outlet in the bathroom. Worked like a charm. The problem was not the iron. But if the issue is the outlet, that's electrical which means calling an electrician which is expensive and, oh dear, oh dear. Then something else occurred to me. Once upon a time, we lived in a place where for some reason, the light in any room had to be on for any outlet in that room to work. Could that be the case here? I mean, this is an older house which also means a quirky house. Now, a side note. Lately our electric bill has been insane. Just absolutely crazyinsane. So in a desperate effort to offset that expense wherever we can, I find myself walking through the house turning out lights and remembering my dad doing the same thing. He would walk through the house, turning out lights in empty rooms, muttering under his breath something about "every dang light in the house is on". heeheehee. What a way to remember my dad. The thing is, I love light. As much light as possible. I love lots of windows, all of them thrown open, curtains pulled back, shades up and if that doesn't give me enough lights, yup, generally lights are on. But I am trying, really trying to live with darker rooms. Gloom. Sigh. At any rate, because of my 'great efforts' the living room area had no overhead lights turned on. Because I was only working in the kitchen area (even though it's essentially all the same room) I had only the kitchen lights on. Hmmmmmm So I walked over to the switch, turned on the living room area lights, then plugged the iron back in and sonuvagun, it works. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! How is it possible that we have lived here more than 7 years now and I just today learned that the living room area lights and that end of peninsula outlet are connected????? I guess I always used to have the living room area lights on? My dad always used to tell us that we needed to learn at least one new thing every day. I guess this was my one new thing today :) Thanks Dad! Works out nicely in honour of the upcoming Father's Day, doesn't it :) Have a great weekend y'all! Learn one new thing and celebrate all father's and father stand-ins. Me? I'm going to finish up the ironing. I am rather tickled with myself right now. It's a lovely feeling and I want to savour it. And it's funny that I have such big feelings about such a relatively small thing. Still, it's the truth. It's not pride (which goeth before a fall) it's just pleasure.
And what is it that has me so very pleased with myself? Well, on Saturday, I dug a swale. That is not a typo. If you are unfamiliar with the term, a swale is: "A swale is a shady spot, or a sunken or marshy place. In US usage in particular, it is a shallow channel with gently sloping sides. Such a swale may be either natural or human-made. Artificial swales are often infiltration basins, designed to manage water runoff, filter pollutants, and increase rainwater infiltration". In short, it's a path for water to take through our yard and back out into the bay (which is behind our house) where it belongs. It's a good thing. When we bought the house, there was already a swale in place. And it works great! Even though we live in a place that, during the rainy season is prone to rain storms that are locally referred to as "gullywashers", the rain stays out of the house and also does not create itself a pond in the yard somewhere. Nope, it just goes right on past the house under the fence. Bye bye ! But somewhere along the line, during the construction/deconstruction necessary for the project room, a considerable amount of dirt got moved by the builder guys with their big old diggery machines and they, inexplicably, moved the dirt to the side of the house, effectively filling in the swale. Hmmmm. Our assumption at the time was that when the project was done they would take the same big old diggery machines and move the dirt.................elsewhere. And of course we all know what happens when we assume. Since they never finished the project, we will never know if they intended to do anything about the filled in swale. But clearly, we needed to. And not just because it's one of the many things that gets inspected before the project is officially complete, but also because we don't want water in the house! That's a firm rule. So digging out the swale was on the list of things that still needed to be done. Saturday was a pretty day, not too horrible yet to be doing an outside project. Even though it's very definitely getting warmer, the humidity hasn't climbed to the top of the pile yet. And that is something to take advantage of while we still can. Tim elected to finish up work on the fascia of the exterior. And since that involves being way up high on a scaffold which requires climbing a ladder to even get to, and my general feeling about heights, I volunteered to dig. I can dig. We own a shovel. I've planted flowers and vegetables before. I've planted trees and shrubs! And I have shoveled snow from more walkways and driveways than I care to recall in my lifetime. So I was not remotely concerned about whether or not this was a task I was really able to do or not. The fact that I am an out of shape, nearly 70 year old never once crossed my mind. Not sure if I am in denial or delirious but over breakfast that morning I just casually said, "While you are working on the trim, I think I will dig out the swale". To his credit, Tim did not scoff. He looked at me for a long minute and then (very wisely) said, "If that's what you want to do". In preparation, I put on my junkiest clothes, loads of sunscreen, a set of sunsleeves and a pair of gloves. See? Even though it's been awhile, I remember some important parts to the art of shoveling! I grabbed the shovel and headed outside, ready to get it done. I was ready to knock this out. The first order of business was a size up the task. I approached the filled in area from every direction possible until I had an idea of the width and depth that needed to be moved. Then I pulled over my little garden cart. It's easier to move than a wheelbarrow as it has 4 wheels instead of three and is, therefore, far more stable. My idea was that I would shovel the dirt into the cart and then pull the cart to a different, non-swale, part of the yard to dump it. Good plan. Everything was set up and in place, I was ready to go. I began with great energy and good attitude, shoveling dirt into the cart and then pulling the cart to the opposite side of the backyard and dumping it over and over, spreading the dirt all along the side, under shrubs and trees. I didn't want the pile of dirt to be all in one spot. Sometimes this meant getting whacked by tree branches and stabbed by thorns. No matter, the job was getting done. Occasionally, Tim would climb down from his perch atop the scaffolding and offer a gentle suggestion but otherwise, he allowed me to be me and do the job my way. He is a smart man and we have been married a long time. He gets me. I began to run out of steam in shockingly short order. About an hour in, I had to take a break. I needed water and I needed to just not be shoveling for a minute or two. I stepped back into the house. I carefully stayed just in the kitchen because at that point, I was beyond filthy. Digging is dirty work. I was also so sweaty that it was making my sunscreen run into my eyes and if you've never experienced that little bit of delight, let me just say that it stings a bit. After I cooled off a bit, I took a deep breath, re-did my ponytail which was trying it's best to go AWOL, went back outside, grabbed my shovel and got back to it. I said I was gonna do it, so I was by gawd, going to do it. I can be very stubborn. With far less energy and enthusiasm I continued. If it was just shoveling perhaps it wouldn't have been quite as difficult. But it was the shoveling, plus the removing of rocks. I'd dig into the nice soft sandy soil for a few shovelfuls and then "clunk" I would hit a rock. And the thing about rocks is, you have no idea how big they are, or what shape or how deep or, well, anything. There is nothing to be done but to take the time to dig the rock out and remove it. Then what do you do with the rock? Well, in my case, I tossed it to the side along the fence where, to this day, they still remain. There are now enough rocks along that fence to build a small rock wall if I was so inclined. (by the way, I am not) Then of course there was the pulling of the cart to the side and dumping it. Over and over, again and again. Eventually on one of Tim's check in's, he proclaimed that I had dug deeply enough and that all that remained now was to smooth it out. Apparently I do not dig neatly. So I got a rake and smoothed things as best I could. I filled in a few spots that were too deep and lopped off the top of a couple of places that we a bit too high. I stood back and checked it out from, again, several different directions. Utilizing just eyeball measurements, it looks ok. In fact, I'd say it looks pretty good. Tim was happy with it, I was happy with it. We called it a day, congratulated ourselves and each other on jobs well done. We put away our toys and went inside to clean up. I was so incredibly dirty it looked more as if I had burrowed than shoveled. Geez! Not sure how it is that no matter what task I take on, when it's finished, not only am I unbelievably dirty but so is my work area. That applies to painting, cooking, and clearly also shoveling. The difference is that if I make a mess outside, who cares? The birds? Maybe a part of my delight in this task is that it's over. Perhaps it's the feeling of satisfaction that comes with a job that is both started and completed all on the same day. Maybe it's that I did a pretty good job for a old lady. I've never been the prissy sort. I never objected to getting dirty or doing a physically demanding job. But as I get older, more and more of those sorts of chores are not such a good idea. I have to admit that there are things that are now really beyond my ability to tackle. I hate admitting it, but it's the truth. Turns out, I can still dig. And for the record, my hat is off to anyone who digs for a living. Dang that is hard work! And therefore, Yay me! Two boxes of books, mercy. These are almost ready to be dropped off at Good Will. I think I can squeeze a couple more small books in each box and I have one more empty box waiting to be filled. Shockingly, last week, I dropped off two other boxes-o-books. Me? Getting rid of books? That doesn't sound right at all, does it? Well, the thing of it is, there was no other option. The bookshelves were already filled past capacity. Everywhere a book could be tucked in, there was already a book. Every nook, every cranny, every bit of vertical and horizontal space was filled. It had gotten to the point where I was stacking books on floors and side tables and well, if you know me, you know that just will not do at all. It's not tidy, it's not clean, it's not organized. It is, however, messy, cluttered and impossible to find whatever book you are searching for. I think that was the worst of it. I couldn't find the books I was looking seeking. I'd need GPS coordinates, a sherpa and a treasure map for an hope of success. Time after time I would stand in front of the books cases, hands on hips, eyes casting around the shelves muttering to my self," I know I own that dang book", and then walk away empty handed. Frustrating. There's nothing to be done for it except to make more space. Some books had to go. Very Sad Words. To get rid of books I have to harden my heart, narrow my eyes, roll up my sleeves and make tough decisions. I have to ask myself if I will ever read this book again AND then be honest with myself. Some books are easy. The decision is made before I even walk into the living room. There are books that I read once every year. Books that I adore and cherish that inspire me, teach me, humble me, entertain me, educate me and I simply cannot let them go. Those books stay. There are times when I do not compromise. In fact, when I decided to begin working on this, when I made that tough decision - "some books gotta go" - I stood there in front of one of the book cases and just kind of perused the shelves. Then I heard myself say (out loud by the way), "well everything on that shelf stays". And I knew this was going to be harder than usual. When I start out saving an entire shelf....not just one particular book but an entire shelf...you know it's not going to so smoothly. So I walked away. That was not going to be a good get rid of books day. I waited an entire week longer to start. And on that day, the day I truly began, I was tough, I was mean, I was the Dirty Harry of book getter ridders. I filled up those first two boxes and took them directly to GoodWill, dropped them off and didn't give them a second thought. They were books I had picked up at the $5 a bag sale at the library and some of them were so bad I never actually read them. Easy to part with those. Now we are getting rid of a different classification of books. Books that I actually choose. Books that I read on purpose AND enjoyed. If I didn't enjoy them, A) I wouldn't have read them and B) I wouldn't have kept them. Makes it ever so much more difficult a task. My methodology for making the keep or toss decision is sort of like that Marie Kondo thing. Although hers is, "does this bring me joy?". I cannot ask myself that coz if I do the answer with books is always yes. Instead I ask myself, "Am I going to read this again?" The hard part is answering honestly. My plan for the day is first to empty the shelves. Every single thing on every single shelf is going to taken off. I will clean the books, clean the shelves and clean the little tchotchkes that have somehow found their way also onto the book shelves. THEN I will group the books by subject. The next time I am looking for a particular book, I will by golly find it!! While sorting by subject, I can do one last big ask - am I REALLY going to re-read this book. That ought to get rid of the final few stragglers. When I put things back on the shelves, some of the knickknacks will also find new homes. But I will be honest, I like to see some of it up there. It looks cozy and homey and less like a library. I can use the baubles as markers between book categories. At least that's my thought at the moment. I will know more once I start grouping things. In my dream home, there is a real library. A big room lined floor to ceiling with shelves, there are even shelves above the door ways and windows. There are a few super comfy chairs with footstools, good reading lighting, good windows for natural light and a table for setting my teacup. And there are books on all of those shelves. What a lovely dream. However, since we are dealing with reality here, I will work with what I got. Have you seen how interior decorator's put books on shelves? Sometimes they line them up with the spines to the back. ???? I am baffled! How do you find the book you are looking for that way? Or they put papercovers on the books so they are all the exact same. Unless you also write the book name on that papercover, once again, how do you find your books? Occasionally I see them in magazines with no papercovers and spines out but grouped by size and colour. No no no, I don't have books on my shelves as a design statement. I have books because I read them and then I re-read them. And some of them I re-re-read in perpetuity! Which means I also need to find them. Which means a different sort of organization. I suppose I could do it alphabetically, but often I cannot recall the exact title. Same goes for grouping by author. That's absolutely not going to happen. But topic? Yes, I know what topic I'm looking for and therefore, that is how the books will be set up on my shelves. So that's going to be my day today. I'm ready. I have my dust cloths and my furniture polish, a soft brush (for old books) and a plan. No longer will my shelves looks like this: Hopefully they look a whole lot better. Wish me luck!
And, have a great weekend y'all! See you next week. Hugs all 'round In spite of the temperatures climbing a bit, Joy and I went out on Photo Safari yesterday. We left extra early and kept the hike to a far more reasonable 2 hours in an effort to avoid heat stroke. We are smart that way. The only problem with hiking early is that often we are the only ones in the vicinity that are awake. The very things we are hoping to photograph are still snuggied up in their little beds, all comfy and cozy and snoozing away. Despite knowing that, we still went out early in that gorgeous early morning light to see what else there was to see. Turned out, all of the birds got up extra early too. And even better, it seemed to be Family Day~! So many of the birds we saw were not just one representative of the species but of pairs! Sometimes entire families! Love it! Group Photos! So this is the Family Day Hike! Very appropriate since Joy & I are family too :) Let's see how many "family portraits" I managed to capture: Three? Is that all? I know we saw a lot more. Oh wait a minute. Sometimes I couldn't get capture them both in the same frame so I had to take individual shots. Let's try this again: Well, there were more. There truly were, but I guess I missed a few. Oh well. I have some single bird shots too. Wanna see those? I would like to point out that most of these supposedly "single" birds were actually in pairs or groups, I just only managed to captured them one at a time. Drat! It was sort of a happy accident that as we continued up and down the trails, noticing all of these bird groups and taking pictures of them, at the same time Joy and I were also catching each other up on what was happening in our families! What's the news? How are the kids? It's so nice to hear about her girls (and boys) and I love talking about my boys (and girls). Guess it put the entire day and me in a family state of mind :) Enough with the birds! What else did we see? Well, I did get a few nice botanicals: And one truly awesome spider web complete with spider! Voila! The Family Day Hike with at least some birdie families represented :) Hope you enjoyed! I was feeling a little twinge of nostalgia recently and when I tried to figure out what exactly it was I was feeling nostalic about, it turned out to be fabric. Yeah, weird. Especially for a non-sewer.
At first I thought it was a bit of fashion nostalgia, but since fashion is cyclical, that is just silly. In point of fact, I recently saw a pair of bell bottom jeans in a boutique downtown. Whoa! There's a fashion that did NOT need to come back. So no, it wasn't style nostalgia. Took me a bit to pin it down. No one was more surprised than I to discover the truth. It was about Fabric. Interesting. Some fabric does cycle like fashion does. For instance gingham. There are years, literally years, when, unless you are shopping at a recycle clothing store, there is not one little cotton check to be seen anywhere in any store. And then other years where it's everywhere! There was a fashion season when they brought checks back not not the tiny little cute ones associated with gingham but great giant checks, usually in red/black/cream, and they called it Buffalo Check. It looked good on maybe 30 people in the entire country. The rest of us suddenly had fannies that looked the size of the back of a bus. Buffalo checks were not a good idea. I understand that tiny little gingham checks are in the mode once again. Hurrah for that. Lace is another fabric that seems to swing in and out of favour. I am a huge lace fan. Which makes it odd that own very little of it right now, sadly. But that is probably because it is not in style right now and therefore it's hard to find. Lace used to be one of those things that could be terribly expensive because it was hand made (and beautifully done). Now it's all manufactured, machine made, and not costly at all. It's a pretty feminine little detail that I adore. And it doesn't have to be an entire dress or blouse. Maybe just a bit of trim, a collar or cuff. Hard to find right now. Not to worry, if I wait long enough I'm sure it will come back. I haven't seen dotted swiss in a long time either. That is another old favourite of mine. When we were very young, our Nana made Joy and I dresses every spring - just in time for Easter - out of dotted swiss of some pastel colour. We wore petticoats under it so we had very full, slightly itchy, skirts that rustled a bit when we moved. We felt very fancy. As we got a little older dotted swiss was no longer in pastels and it was usually either reserved for dress sleeves or blouses - which had to to either be lined or worn with a slip underneath due to it's sheerness. Later still it was only used for curtains! Curtains! Now it is beyond rare to see that oh so very feminine fabric used. Corduroy is another favourite of mine. I think I always had something corduroy in my wardrobe until maybe 10 years ago? Suddenly, it disappeared. I favoured pinwale corduroy but I would take whatever I could get, y'know? I vaguely recall wearing a pair of dark green corduroy overalls as a very little girl. But as I grew I had trousers, skirts, even a dress made of corduroy and as an adult I had a wonderful gold corduroy jacket that I loved. Now? No corduroy anywhere. Dang. Maybe it'll circle around, maybe not. Seersucker was the perfect summer fabric. It was lightweight, easy to care for, airy and versatile. It was seen in everything from ladies dresses, to children's rompers to men's summer suits. And at one time, it seemed to be in nearly every colour of the rainbow. Then it disappeared. I recently found a shop with one style of blouse in seersucker but in only two colours, navy/white or grey/white. So Boring! But sometimes, it's not that the fabric isn't popular anymore, it's that the materials used in making the fabric has changed. I thought at first it was me. For example, Velvet is another old fashioned fabric that I love. So there I am in a high end ladies clothes store, not trying on anything, just looking around and to my surprise, I see velvet! Of course I have to feel it! Of course! Don't you? Doesn't everybody? Anyway, I sidle up to it, peer around to see if anyone is looking, slowly reach out to touch and wow, disappointing. It just doesn't feel the way I remember velvet. Naturally I assumed the fault lay with me. It must be that my memory is flawed. I did a little research and nope, this time it's not me. They way most velvet is made now has changed. I remember silk velvet. It felt almost like fur. Yummy. Now sometimes it's made with cotton but in an effort to keep costs down, most velvet is made from synthetic fibers. ARGH! Synthetic fibers have ruined fabrics. At least the feel of them. I understand why spandex and things like spandex have been added to almost everything and there are days, trust me, when I am so very grateful for that little bit of extra give. Still the trade-off is that nothing feels like itself anymore. Cotton, once a perfect breathable summer fabric that was crisp and cool now has spandex in it for "give" and something else that makes it 'wrinkle free' and it's just as hot as polyester. Bah. It doesn't look the same, feel the same or function the same either. Satin is another luscious fabric of the past. I mean real satin. I know it's out there, but only for those in the rarefied levels of existence because it's so dang expensive now. Costly, but worth every penny. Real satin has a luster that is unmistakable. And when you are wearing it, it feels almost like you are wearing butter. That sounds odd but it's true. Real satin is always cool to the touch and oh my gosh, it drapes so beautifully. So yeah, I'm odd. I miss certain fabrics. Sigh. And dressing up. I miss having the occasion, once in awhile, to dress up. I mean REALLY dress up, era 1940 dress up. Heels, stockings, dresses, gloves and hats. And that's even before My time. I came in just on the tail end of a little bit of it. When I was very little I remember wearing little white gloves and a hat when I'd be in my Sunday Best. (and black patent leather shoes all shined up with Vaseline). But it didn't last long. Things changed as they always do. I recall a time when a lady didn't so much as go to the grocery store if she wasn't looking sharp. Now I see people shopping in pajamas and bathing suits. It's a casual world now, so perhaps casual fabrics that require no ironing, no fussing and no dry cleaning are better suited to it. But gosh, sometimes I miss them. Whatever your fabric choices, have a lovely weekend, ya'll Thought you guys might appreciate a project room update since it's been awhile. The above photo is a reminder of some of what we've been seeing for quite some time now. I wish I had thought to take more photos of the process from the beginning but alas, I did not. As a refresher, the room originally was smaller, with a lot of single pane windows - no two of which were the same size and the room was one step down. It had massive sliders, a lower ceiling and the oddest tile floor. It looked as if someone had broken terracotta tiles and created a mosaic with the shards. It was interesting but hard to clean. From the first time we viewed the house, before we bought it, we knew that some day, that room would need a little attention. What we didn't know at that point, and apparently the inspector didn't discover either, is that the entire room was a DIY project, (probably not permitted) AND the foundation of it was not stable. We discovered that instability almost two years ago now when suddenly we were getting leaks around the windows whenever it rained. Then the ceiling began to leak too. There was no way around it, whether we wanted to spend the money or not, the room had to be fixed. Ceiling and walls had to come down and the foundation had to be fixed. Dang. Big job! As one does, we reached out to a number of contractors. We met with them, got their estimates and then we did some research on them. We are no fools. The contractor we ultimately chose had actually won a Builder of the Year award the year before. Sounds pretty good eh? We thought so too. We reviewed and signed the contract, handed over a terrifying amount of money as the first payment and the work began. What was supposed to have been a two month project somehow stretched out into six months. And they began showing up less and less. And then the day came when, after 3 of the 4 payments had been made, they no longer responded to texts, phone calls or letters. In desperation, we drove by their office and were shocked and dismayed to find a For Rent sign in the window. We had been abandoned. Dang. Now what do you do? Once the next steps were sorted out, it seemed that we had two choices, try to find another contractor to pick up where these guys left off or do it ourselves. There is so much building going on in Florida since flood of new residents that finding another contractor was going to be tricky. And Expensive. Think about it, we've already paid for the work to be done. Now we will pay for it twice? And at the higher, post-pandemic rates too! That doesn't sit right. Okay, decision made, we will do this ourselves. And in all actuality that meant that Tim would be doing 99.999999% of it. As you may or may not recall, all last year, I was out of commission. Absolutely useless. And then I started out this year with a stupid broken arm so I wasn't much more useful this year. Timing may not be everything, but it's a lot. First things first, we got an inspector in to check things out and found out all the things the contractor did wrong. So the first order of business was correcting those things. Once those things were completed and the inspectors checked them off, one step at a time, we (Well, Tim) started getting things done. Nights, weekends and holidays were mostly devoted to either doing projects or learning how to do projects. Neither of us had every done any of the things necessary for this so there was a bit of a learning curve. Thank goodness for the internet. A person can learn almost anything online. Well after all that, I am delighted to report that we have finally moved back in to the project room which is, once again, our family room! YAYAYAYAYAYAY! It 's not completely complete yet, but we couldn't wait any longer. After living in a construction zone for far too long, the house is beginning to look more like a real home and less like ishkabibble land! Wanna see? For the past two years, the living room has been the repository for everything too big to put anywhere else. Finally it's a living room once again: The guest room still needs a little work - most of the artwork is currently living in there while waiting to go back on various walls. But at least there is a bed once again: The exterior is painted! Well it needs one more coat, but it's mostly painted. And let me tell you, finding a colour that matches the existing colour was a process! No paint chip in existence was close enough. Then one day Tim spied the plate cover of an outside outlet that the previous owners painted over when the house was painted. He removed that cover, took it to Sherwin Williams and they matched it exactly! Wow, that was genius! And then, the room we've been missing desperately for nearly two years, the family room! Taadaa! I'm sure you noticed the are still a few unfinished things, like the baseboards and other trim pieces. It's underway, just incomplete at the moment. And it obvious that there is still a wee bit of work to be done because if you turn to the right instead of the left when you walk in you will see: Soon enough, that will be gone too. Can we talk about those floors for a minute? We had never laid tile before so we had no idea what a pain in the arse that job is. Tim read up on it, got what he needed, borrowed a tile saw (thank you Paul) and finished putting the tile down. The contractors had done about 3/4 of it before they disappeared. But of course all of it had to be grouted. Have you ever grouted? We had not. In the video's it looked fairly simple. Work the grout in and then wipe the excess off. We decided that Tim would grout, I would wipe. I had my bucket and my sponges and I was ready to go. But hmmmm. In the video's the wiping seemed much simpler, easier, almost graceful. I was not so much wiping and scrubbing. And scrubbing. AND SCRUBBING! And in the end, after we were sure that the job was done, after everything dried, there was still some grout left on those dang tiles. RATZ. But, we quickly figured out that by using a steamer and a plastic scraper, I could still remove it. That involves sitting on the floor, steaming and scraping, steaming and scraping and then vaccuming up what I scraped off and repeating over and over. Fine. I can do that :) It took about a week to go over the entire floor but I got it. Well I got most of it. EverytimeI think I got it all, the light hits the floor just the right way and I find another spot I need to work on. So it continues. Also learned that grout stains. The way I found this out: This pair of shorts is now a yard work and messy projects pair of shorts.
We are overjoyed to have our house back and in the very near future, when the trim is done, the pictures are back on the wall and perhaps we have blinds at the windows, we will be even happier. It's been a long and rocky road that involved a lot of work, a lot of time (and money!) falling off a couple of ladders (Tim), throwing out a back (also Tim) so much Advil and ice packs (both of us). And I'm happy to report that, although everything I've ever read says that situations like ours are the cause of many destroyed marriages, in our case, there were no fights, no arguments, no angry words or cold silences. We just keep on keeping on. Once the project room is finally really completely done, we will take a little break from projects before moving on to the next one. Yeah, we have a list. Hope you had a great weekend! We are still celebrating having our house back! woohoo! It's been a couple of weeks since I did a Photo Safari report so I think it's about time! Yesterday, Joy and I headed out to Curry Creek (as you can clearly see by the sign). Because this is the time of year when the temperature starts to rise and the rain begins to fall, we decided to head out extra early hoping to miss the worst of the heat and humidity. To our surprise and delight, the weather was gorgeous. It was very mild with a lovely breeze. The downside was the the grey and gloomy sky which isn't ideal for most photographs and the concern about possible rain. But what's life without risk. Off we went anyway. I will call this the Very Grey Day Hike because it was. We had a good strong rain the night before so, right off the bat, there were beautiful raindrop photo ops. Love those! For some reason, I find raindrops very difficult to properly capture. Not sure what I'm doing wrong but whatever it is, on this particular day, I got it right. Woohoo! When we started out, we were completely alone. It's not a very well travelled preserve so it's not unusual for us to be the only humans there, but on this particular day, in a short time, other folks began to arrive. One pair brought not just their cameras, but even camp chairs and drinks so that their bird watching and photographing could be done in style. Tip 'o the hat to them! Smarties. They set up near the Swallowtail Kite's nest which was one of the things we wanted to check on. Joy and I feel I little protective of those particular birds because, we were the ones who discovered that they were there at all, saw them building the nest and reported it to the city who got all excited about it :) Our report: The babies are growing! One of the funniest and most unexpected moments of the hike came when Joy looked up and said, "Oh My Gosh! Ducks!" Then she pointed, not down toward possible water, or even the trail but up, very very up. I following her pointer finger and sonuvagun! There were the ducks in the the trees. Tree Ducks? Yup. I can honestly say that I have never before seen a duck in a tree. There were three of ducks and they were not just in a tree, they were in a very very tall tree, like maybe 4 stories high? It's hard for me to judge the height of a tree. What on earth is a Duck doing hanging around in a tree? I don't know why I'm surprised, they are birds after all. There were other birds, of course. We could hear them all around us but we heard far more of them than we saw. Still, managed to capture a few: I think we saw cardinals more than anything. Perhaps because that gorgeous red colouring stands out even on a foggy, grey, gloomy day? Regardless of the reason, I do not mind one single bit: I found the trees especially compelling on this hike. I think it was something about the quality of the light. Saw two beautiful butterflies and a cute little moth: As always, I happysnapped a lot of botannicals! I will try to sort out just a few of my favourites: I guess that about sizes things up. For you, the Very Grey Day Hike! Well, to be honest and Fair about it, this was for Joy and I too.
Wishing you a wonderful Memorial Day Weekend! Have fun and be safe. Hugs all 'round. What a pretty little rainbow~! Any idea what these things are? They are called SunSleeves and I love 'em! I have to back up a little bit in this story for it all to make sense, so please bear with me as we jump into the WayBack machine..... When I was a kid having a tan was considered a sign of good health. There were no tanning beds or tanning salons so obviously a tan meant that a person was spending time outside in the nice healthy sunshine! For a child, most likely, it also suggested that we were getting lots of good exercise runnning around like the big old goober that all little kids are. For teens and adults it was probably more about either having a job working outside or leisure time spent laying in the sun, relaxing, lubed up good with Sun Tan Oil (not sunscreen mind you) and making sure that you used a reflector to get that tan good adn even in the places harder for the sun to reach. I was never one to just lay in the sun but in high school, I knew girls who would apply baby oil liberally before lounging outside to attract yet more sun. The theory was that you had to get that first all over burn that would fade into a nice tan. Seriously, that is what everyone "knew" to be true back then. Boy were we dumb. I did spend time outside, often parked under a shady tree, reading so I managed to escape the dreaded sunburn other than perhaps some pink on my nose and cheeks for a very long time despite living in some sunny places like southern California and Texas. But finally the day came for my first bad sunburn and it was a doozy. It was during my college days. At that point I lived in Connecticut and one very cloudy weekend, I spent the day with friends on a boat on the ocean, all of us, sensibly wearing bathing suits. Mine was a bikini with a halter top. We had a great time. So great that I did not realize that I was getting burnt. Wait, not just burnt, I was getting crispy. Deep Fried. I did not, until that day, realize that a person can get sun burned on a cloudy day. Turns out, they can. It was later that evening that I realized that I looked more like a cooked lobster than a girl. Oh My Gosh. That burn was so bad I had blisters. Every single bit of exposed skin including my ears and the part in my hair, was burned. Showering was painful, toweling off after the shower was painful, laying down in my nice soft bed was painful but the worst of the worst was wearing clothes. Everything rubbed against my poor tortured ruby red sunburn. Eventually I healed and from that point forward I was much more careful about sun exposure. And that caution was an especially good idea when we moved to Colorado. It's very sunny there. Not everyone knows this but there are more than 300 sunny days every year in Colorado AND because the topography has people living a mile or more high, everyone is closer to the sun and that is a bad thing. It was in Colorado when I first went to see a dermatologist who told me that while I was fine - at the moment - one day that terrible sunburn was going to come back to bite me in the fanny. Wearing sunscreen, limiting sun exposure, wearing long sleeves and a hat were strongly recommended. I did none of those things except occasionally wear sunscreen. Back to present days. Now we are in Florida and I'm out in the sun a lot. I like being outside. I'm good about applying sunscreen and fairly good about wearing a hat but limiting sun exposure is confusing to me. So I should be hiking at night? Or in the rain? Not sure how to work that one out. The long sleeves thing was troubling. Summers here are not just hot they are HOT and worse, they are humid. Wearing long sleeves sounds like an invitation to heat stroke! We began doing our annual Dermotology check ups here and while again, everything initially looked ok, there was clearly some skin damage already apparent and again, that old sunburn was going to bite me at some point, and this time the suggestion was sunscreen, hat, limited exposure AND sunshirts. Have you heard of these? The are long sleeved (of course) and made of some sort of fabric that wicks away moisture and protects the wearer from the sun. Hmmmm. Interesting. We went to the store straight away to check these things out. And that's where I learned several things: 1) Those shirts are dang expensive! 2) There were very few that fit me properly. My porportions are not the ones any clothing designer ever has in mind 3) they are EXPENSIVE! 4) they were not especially comfortable. I like softysoft fabric. These were not and of course 5) $$$$$. So I declined. And didn't think about it one bit again until recently when I realized that the annual dermotology appointment was coming up again soon and I had done nothing regarding the sunshirt suggestion. I hate it when my doctor calls me on my BS. Dang it. I expressed my concern to Tim and I said, perhaps I needed to revisit the sunshirt idea even though I hated it. That's when Tim got me these SunSleeves! All of them together cost less than one sunshirt and my arms are protected and I can wear them with any other shirt that I already have and they are softysoftsoft and they are super easy to take on and off and even to wash. Love 'em! I've been wearing them for all of my walks, even to the museum where, upon my arrival, I peel them off and before I leave I pull them back on. They are sort of like wearing opera gloves. I feel very Audrey Hepburn! Nobody wore Opera Gloves as well as Audrey Hepburn in "Breakfast at Tiffany's". I'm not Audrey but here is me in one of my pair of SunSleeves: And now I have something positive to report at my next dermatology appointment. Yay me! And oh yeah, also I'm more protected from the sun.
And by the way, this whole Vitamin D thing is very confusing. I am constantly told that as we get older we need more Vitamin D which, by the way is provided for free from the sun, but don't you dare spend time in the sun due to the resultant skin damage and possible flirtation with melanoma!! Make up your mind for heaven's sakes! It wasn't easy being young but dang, getting older is the hardest thing I think I've ever done. At any rate, SunSleeves Ahoy! I vote Yes! A few weeks back, for absolutely no reason at all, we woke up on a Saturday morning and decided to walk the couple of blocks to visit our local Farm Market. Every single Saturday, these hardy souls get up much earlier than we do and set up camp on Venice Avenue.
Our city blocks off that part of the street in both directions for the occasion and people come from miles around to shop. Locals, visitors, tourists and for all I know, aliens, descend upon our cutie-cute city to see what there is to see. It's a year 'round event, every Saturday morning like clockwork, the vendors, (over 100 of them!) construct their canopies, back in their craft trailers, set out samples of their wares, paste on smiles and good sales attitudes and hope for the best. It is literally no more than 3 or 4 blocks from our house and yet, and yet, and yet, we had not visited in probably 5 years. Geez! I guess it's sort of like the folks who live in NYC but never visited the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty. But on that particular day, we decided to check it out and see what has changed in the past half a decade. Perhaps we didn't remember accurately what it was like at our first visit all those years ago, but it seemed as if it was more of a craft fair before. I mean yes, there were typical farm market things like produce and breads and pastries, but before, we both remembered it as mostly jewelry and shark tee-shirts and tie-dyed everything. Things that, while they are certainly absolutely fine and I'm sure people loved it, did not interest us and that is probably the reason we did not go back. This time, yes, there was a little bit of jewelry and sunglasses and clothes, but there were far more food kiosks. It's not that I'm just a big of an oink - all thinking about food. It's a farm market. I don't think it' s unreasonable to assume that there would be farm products sold there. Right? I was not disappointed. On this visit things had changed. The things we expected were there and a whole lot of other stuff. There were gorgeous fresh from the farm fruits and veggies, one tent of just honey and bee related products and another of dried fruits, meats and veggies. It all looked delightful! There were multiple restaurants represented and several different sorts of bakeries as well (yummy) There was a local coffee roaster and you could smell that throughout. Someone who makes their own hand lotions, soaps and shampoos was entertaining a lot of folks and a hand rolled cigar distributor was a huge surprise! An alpaca everything tent was on hand as well as the plants people with their jungle filled canopy. Mushrooms, seafood and hand made pastas! Jellies and jams and preserves of all sorts! Cheeses and pretzels and bagels and...wait a minute, hold the phone. Bagels? Well yes, we did buy two bagels, one for each of us. We keep trying to find really good bagels down here and of course, still have not found it. BUT gotta keep trying right? There were ice cream vendors and racks of gorgeous cookies and even products for your pets! We saw jars of pickles and fascinating salads and pies, oh lordy, the pies. Me oh my! Bins of teas, boxes of cheesecakes and the Venice Ale House was there too. There was even a musician serenading all of us, underscoring the event. It was delightful all the way around. All we bought were the bagels, but what a lot of lovely things to choose from. I think it's fair to say that we won't wait as long to visit again. I remind myself that these are all local folks trying to make their way in as relatively unfriendly world and our support helps to keep them going. Personally I would much rather spend my money on locally made products than factory made things from heaven knows where. Is there a weekly farm market where you live? Do you visit it? Or like us, did it kind of drop off your radar as even existing? If you haven't been in awhile maybe it's time to go back and give it another chance. Meanwhile, Have a perfectly lovely weekend! Hugs all 'round. Roses and Hydrandeas! A perfect combination. (Much like Tim and I) Awwwww. Whether you were on the giving or receiving end of it, how was your Mother's Day? Mine was absolutely lovely. It started with these gorgeous flowers and two cards (it's always two cards in this house, one funny one and one sweet one) and then donuts for Breakfast! Yay donuts! I got some wonderful texts and emails and phone calls and taken out for the dinner of my choice. Which ended up being take out from Crisp and Green - a local place that I adore. Sometimes I like eating in a restaurant but other times, I just want to relax in front of the TV dressed all comfy and sloppy and enjoy our meal that way. Yesterday was that day. Even thought it really was kind of hot out, we even went for a short hike in a local preserve - again my choice entirely - and I took some photos while Tim and the various birds had conversations. He is amazingly good at duplicating their various songs so the exchanges go on for a long time. I have no idea what is being said, but it sounds so pretty. The flowers Tim gave me are just gorgeous, I'm guessing hot house grown since they are so very perfect. Maybe that kind of kick started me having flowers on the brain yesterday because on our hike, almost every photo I took was of wildflowers so I had even more flowers to love. Of course the preserve posies are less than perfect, but sometimes that is part of what makes them special. Sort of like mom's. We are not perfect either. But maybe it's that lack of perfection that makes us special. We are human and therefore flawed. Some days I am a little more flawed than other days. Does that make me more human? When I think back on those wonderful days when the kids were little, most of my memories are just the best things ever. I really really really loved raising my boys. But of course, I do have regrets. Things I wish I had not said, or perhaps a tone I wish I had not used. Sometimes the regret is what I didn't do and probably should have. Or a situation I probably could have, and should have, handled better. But there is no time machine where I can go back and change any of it. So I try to focus mostly on the good stuff. The laughter, the hugs, the silliness and those moments of unbearable sweetness that still make me emotional just thinking about. I'm sure my mother felt much the same way. Perhaps all Mother's do. Being a mom is the longest, hardest and BEST job I've ever had. Thank you to everyone who helped to celebrate me! Here are some of the pretty wildflowers I captured on our Mother's Day hike: And a couple of other shots: Hope your Mother's Day, again regardless of whether you were the recipient the giver or both, was absolutely perfect!
The above rendering is of a human colon. It's complicated looking organ is it not? Yikes! What a mess! But I needed some sort of image for the top of the page and this suited since I thought I'd write about the colonoscopy I had this past Monday. And what an absolute delight that was. Insert a great deal of sarcasm here.
Well I suppose the actual procedure is no biggie. As far as I was concerned, it was simply a nice little nap. As anyone who has ever actually had a colonoscopy knows, it's the preparation for the procedure that is the issue. This was the third one I've ever endured. One in Connecticut, one in Colorado and now one in Florida. There were lots of similarities but I don't think the differences were so much state to state as it is that things change in the medical world over ten years time. And thank goodness for that. The first time for sure was the absolute worst. Possibly in part just because it was a new experience. But also because I was instructed to drink a literal gallon of the worst smelling and nastiest tasting stuff it has ever been my displeasure to be made aware of. And even worse than just having to drink it was the span of time in which it was supposed to be ingested. It was twenty (?) years ago so I do not recall the exact time frame but it was too short. I am positive of that part. Trying to force my body to not just drink, but keep, something that smelled and tasted that bad by essentially chugging it was just too much to suffer. It was revolting. The second time, ten years down the road, was an improvement at least in that I was given a wider span of time to get it all down and it didn't seem to taste quite as bad (or was I getting used to it?) Also I had gotten smarter and ate less and less as the week prior went by. My thought process was that the less I ate, the less I had to eliminate. Turns out I was correct. This time, another ten years later, I was given a choice of A) the drink and that would be a big no thank you or B) pills. Without knowing anything else about the process I quickly opted for the pills. As it turns out "the pills" means 24 tablets. Holy Cats!~ 24?? That doesn't sound right. And yet it was. 12 pills taken: 1 every 5 minutes for an hour at 7 pm the night before and another 12 pills again taken 1 every 5 minutes at 7 am the day of the procedure. It was a long night. But it worked exactly as it was supposed to and I was several pounds lighter by the end. The first two colonoscopies were scheduled for very early in the mornig so while I wasn't allowed to eat the day before and then also drink nothing at all including water after midnight, I didn't really mind. As any woman of my era who has dieted throughout her entire life can attest, being hungry is nothing new to me. I can go without food. But I definitely got thirsty. This time the procedure was scheduled for 3:30 in the afternoon but actually didn't happen until 'til after 4 sometime. My lips were dry, my throat was getting sore and the inside of my mouth felt like I had been eating sand. I was Very Thirsty. Still, I tried to just keep images of what I would eat and drink afterwards in my mind. And I had some great ideas too! It wasn't visions of sugar plums going through my head but more like pizza and burgers and ice cream and mostly water. Hot water, cold water, tepid water, iced water. Just anything liquid. My voice was gravelly from lack of moisture by the time we arrived at the surgical center and I was processed in very quickly, popped into my little cubicle, changed into a hospital gown, blood pressure taken, O2 tested and a needle was quickly and relatively painlessly stuck into the big vein in my hand. They gave me a lovely toasty warm blanket right out of the dryer to keep me warm and then I waited. And waited. And waited. It was soooo boring. I did all sorts of games in my head: trying to list all of the states in alphabetical order, trying to remember every address and phone number I've ever had, trying to come up with 5 boys and 5 girls names for every letter of the alphabet, making mental pictures out of the acoustic tiles on the ceiling.......... I was really bored. But eventually they came for me and wheeled my bed down to the procedure room, got me hooked up to everything and positioned properly quickquickquick then before I could say nighty night, it was lights out. It took them three tries to wake me afterwards. Like I said, it was a really good nap. The first time, the doctor was in the room and reviewed the results. I remembered that he was in the room but that's it because I fell back to sleep. Probably before he left the room. How rude of me! The second time, a nurse reviewed the same information with me and I retained that a little better but I couldn't focus my eyes probably so I kept one closed the whole time aaannnddd fell back to sleep once again. The third time I suggested raising the head of the bed. My thought being that if I was more vertical, perhaps I would stay awake better. And I was correct. I sleepily dressed myself and she walked me out the door to Tim waiting patiently with the car. I half dozed as we drove through Culver's to get some food. I half snoozed through the drive home. I nodded off a little bit while eating and fully just gave in and crashed afterwards. All in all, it wasn't that horrible. A colonoscopy is an important test. And a great nap. If your doctor has recommended it and you have been procrastinating, stop putting it off and just do it. If I, the biggest whiny baby in the world, can go through the prep, then anyone can do it. It's kind of annoying but only for a little while and it could save your life. Literally. To keep my spirits up the day of the procedure, a friend of mine sent me the following piece by humourist Dave Barry about having a colonoscopy that made me laugh out loud so I'm attaching it for your amusement. Hope it makes you laugh too:
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AuthorYup, this is me. Some people said, "Sam, you should write a Blog". "Well, there's a thought", I thought to myself. And so here it is. Archives
May 2024
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