Burma Shave

I was thinking about Burma Shave for some reason and thought it would be fun to see if a.) I really have anyone reading my blog and b.) would they comment if asked.

Burma shave was originally a liniment and then a brushless shaving product which, according to Wikipedia, created an advertising solution to their slacking sales. "Burma-Shave sign series appeared from 1925 to 1963 in most of the contiguous United States. The exceptions were New Mexico, Arizona and Nevada (deemed to have insufficient road traffic), and Massachusetts (eliminated due to that state's high land rentals and roadside foliage).

Six signs were placed at intervals along the roadside and together, created a short poem. I think it was genius advertising because to this day, I can remember seeing the following one. I believe it was on the drive to our father's hunting cabin in the Pennsylvania Mountains:

Going somewhere?

Coming back?

Drink can

Throw you

Off the track.

Burma Shave

I even discovered a website listing all of the jingles (although I could not find this one) - http://www.burma-shave.org/.

So, if anyone has a favorite that they remember, please email it to me at cgcaplan@aol.com and I will post it. Happy Memories and Happy New Year!

Nancy Skriner Huber in Phyllup, Washington wrote "Our family took road trips down south.. or over to the Civil war battlefields in Pa..or Amish country... my twin brother and I so enjoyed those Burma Shave signs! Good memories... we also liked the Mail pouch tobacco bill boards painted on the old red barns out in the Ohio country side." Nancy remembered this one -
a peach/ looks good/ with lots of fuzz/ but a man's no peach/ and never was/ Burma Shave

Anonymous - http://oldfortyfives.com/DYRT.htm

Holiday Cheer

The holiday season would not be complete, for me, without this little red beauty - the Bacardi Cocktail.

My former husband's father made this drink every Christmas Eve. According to my former sister-in-law, Susan Urich Hildebrand, "The Bacardi saga began about 1948 when Grace and John now had 2 kids to do Christmas for. Doug and I would go to bed on Christmas Eve and there would be nothing in the house. Nothing, not a tree or other decorations. But when Doug and I woke up on Christmas morning, it was wondrous, it was all there, the tree, the decorations, and the presents. It looked like the room had been filled overnight by Santa. But we know that it was Grace and John who did all the work. Putting up the tree and wrapping the packages. They said often Doug and I would wake up as soon as they got into bed. They would spend all night making this happen for Doug and me. And they would drink a lot of Bacardis."

I first started imbibing in the tart treats around 1970 and haven't missed a year since. This year, in order to create the photo, I mixed up a batch a week early. Shocking! No, not really. I need fortitude when I watch my Brown's games.

The drink was mixed by Grandad (John) Urich by taste and tinkering until 1989, when for some unknown reason (premonition?), he actually wrote the recipe down. He died the following summer, on his beloved club's golf course. So, how can we not carry on this tradition when there is such a wonderful legacy involved?

The drink itself is incredibly tart. My ex, Doug, hated the drink because it gave him horrendous heartburn. I find the taste to be wonderfully complimentary to the savory and salty snacks and appetizers of the season. And, if there are leftovers on Christmas morning, it goes quite nicely with the sweetness and richness of cookies. How do I know this? Well, how do mothers survive Christmas and all of the insane work and preparations? Duh!

I am sharing the recipe in honor of Grandad. But beware - if you have to help Santa and assemble any toys - please do that before you start imbibing.

Cheers!!

9 oz. rum
4 oz. grenadine
3 oz. lime juice
3 oz lemon juice

Blend with a few ice cubes. Serve over ice. Be ready to pucker up so get the mistletoe ready.

My Christmas Letter

It has been a wonderful year. But, the truth is, I don't live a perfect life. So my Christmas letter doesn't come in a red or green envelope with a holiday themed return address label. And, there are no cute snowmen stickers, and no glitter. And, no USPS holiday stamp.

My Christmas letter does come with my realities. Harry and I are healthy and amazingly happy. We are constantly appreciative of how content we are with each other! No, we don't have enough money in the bank to make the retirement future airtight and carefree. The economy affects us just as it does most everyone. But, we have more than what we need. Dinner is on the table every night and it shows in our waistlines (which by the way is shrinking for Harry on his new diet). We don't worry about where we will get our next meal, or if we will have clean water to drink. We can bathe as often as we would like, and in hot water. We don't use a hole in the dirt as a toilet. In fact, we have more toilets than residents in our home. We know that if we get sick, we can find a nearby medical facility to help us and no matter what our income, we would never be turned away. We do not worry at night about how we will survive. In fact, our worries seem pretty petty.

We do not have to bribe anyone to operate our business. We can gripe about rules and regulations, without fear of retribution. We do not live in fear of our personal safety. We gate our home to keep the pets in and not the neighbors out. Our home is heated on cold nights and air conditioned on hot ones. We have TV, Internet, cable, wireless, iPads, iPhones and newsprint to tell us the truths about what is happening around the globe. There is no censorship. We can criticize our government, and we can state our religious views without fear.

We have cars, fuel and access to nearby airports giving us the ability to travel all over the world. How hard we work determines our ability to indulge in recreation. The opportunities are endless. We were blessed with the intelligence and the moral foundation presented by our families to fulfill our potentials and therefore indulge ourselves in our leisure time. But, a great amount of luck was involved. Where we were born and who our families were let us live this incredible life.

Our children are thriving. They are honest, hard working and ethical. None are self destructive. All have clear priorities about hierarchies of what is important - their families and friends first, and careers second. All were given mental and physical health and the ability to succeed. Our grandchildren are, of course, exceptionally bright, gifted and charming. That is not an exaggeration...

We are surrounded with amazing family and lifetime friends. I especially appreciate the harmony I experience with my siblings. I believe it is important to let go of those persons who cause you pain, and embrace those who bring joy. And, there are always new persons to enter in a life and enrich it. There is no limit to how much love you can share.

So, this holiday season I will allow myself to chuckle at the Christmas letters I receive that feel a bit like gloating, and I will be saddened by those that bear bad news. I will enjoy and savor the ones that share news and photos to bring me closer to the sender's lives. Whether you celebrate the religious historical meaning of the holidays, or just enjoy the sparkle and festive aspects, I hope that you find some joy and spend a few moments reflecting on the miracle of just how wonderful your life is.

The Yard

A couple of orchids are blooming on the trees right now. I still get such a kick out of the fact that they are epiphytes and hang on with roots only, getting what they need from the air and rain and bird poop. Isn't nature grand? They are survivors!

Thanksgiving Song

My father sang this song to us every Thanksgiving, and I in turn sang it (albeit poorly since I am tone deaf) to my children. You will be happy that you cannot hear me sing it but I will write the lyrics, nonetheless. Let the tradition continue...

If Turkeys were tall

As telegraph poles

And ten times wider and fatter

Who'd do the carving

To keep us from starving

And what would we use for a platter?

Happy Thanksgiving 2011!

Douglas Howard Caplan

Today would have been Douglas's 44th birthday. Doug was my husband's oldest child, and my stepson. He took his own life in February of 2007.

Suicide is one of the taboo topics, like miscarriage, that leave the grieving people who experienced the loss feeling isolated and incomplete. Nothing stops conversations as quickly as the mention of having lost a child, and especially, how. You can almost hear the thoughts running through the other person's mind and the curiosity they have about how and why.

Douglas was handsome and charming and yet also darkly disturbed and mentally ill. As he aged, his functioning declined. He was involved with drugs at a young age and seemed to have a life that flirted on the edge of a drug world that most of us know nothing about. He was diagnosed as bi-polar. He did not like taking medication though, and did not stay on any regimen consistently. He had Hepatitis C and we do not know how he got it. We always suspected IV drug use as the cause. He drifted in and out of AA although he did not drink very much. I think the AA support helped him when he felt the drug use (mostly marijuana in later years) was getting out of hand. I always felt that the marijuana calmed his manic episodes but actually he got worse the more he smoked.

There were years of normalcy. A job as a construction carpenter. The development of a business making surf board cases. A marriage to a wonderful woman and two children born. Then, suddenly, he wanted a divorce. The ex-wife moved back to Brazil with his blessing and took his children with her. And, from that time on, his life seemed to deteriorate. He missed his children. He left the construction work. He could not support himself and his children and needed financial help from his father and grandfather and the more help he received, the more difficult he became. His last year of life, he was isolated from his sister and his father and only communicated with his mother. He alternated his relationships. When he was speaking to his father, he trashed his mother, and visa versa. Everyone stepped on eggshells in order to help him. And then, a call came. That he was found dead on the morning Harry's brother was going to take him to see a Psychiatrist. He had been agitated, hallucinating, had thrown away his cell phone and abandoned his car. His home was bare. Minimalistic living. Much of the furniture we had given him over the years was gone. Nothing was in the refrigerator but a bag of carrots. I found the notes on his desk which were his beliefs that he had solved the DaVinci code. He was clearly sick and I was angry. Why had Harry's father and brother not called us to inform us of how bad his functioning was. That is, of course, the 20/20 hindsight that we all have when we feel we should have done something else. In reality, I know that many people tried to help him. Many were manipulated by him. And many people were left with very confusing feelings about him.

His life was so complex that his sister, who did the funeral eulogy, created two versions. The one for the funeral and the one for her and her parents. The truths that had to be kept private, so that mourners could leave with positive thoughts and memories of a man the way they wanted to see him. But, no one will ever really know Douglas. He took a lot of the truths with him the night he left us.

Delray Beach

Harry and I visited Matt, Megan, Jack and Ruby in Delray Beach this past Friday. The kids were there with Megan's family to attend her brother Ryan's wedding to Julie Wise. We scooted up for a pre-festivity visit. It was, of course, great to see M&M and kids but also, to see Megan's siblings, parents and grandma since we like them all so much.

Delray was so great. I love the name. Makes me think of the 50's - perhaps because of the alliterations - like, "let's go see Dick Dale and the Deltones down in Delray." And, it looked like Florida of the 50's. No condo high rises lining the lovely beach. They stayed in Wright's on the Beach (love the name) and it was perfect. My kinda place - just like Harry and my favorite funky little motel in Sanibel - the Shalimar. Right on the beach, pool, rooms with little kitchen areas, sand tracked in everywhere. That is vacation. Screw Holiday Inn Express. You can stay there and be anywhere in the world and you would wake up and not have a clue where you are since they all look the same.

Delray Beach had a lot more going for it though. Lots of little restaurants with outdoor seating, shops and a small downtown area that was walking friendly. I was impressed and will head back. The American Orchid Society headquarters in nearby, which will be a destination. Add some good golf and that is a weekend!

Fantasy Fest Follies

Key West hosts an event yearly called Fantasy Fest. This bacchanal was created to increase tourism to the Keys during our slow season and it has grown to a huge international draw with many events, parades, parties, nude body painting and incredibly creative costumes. I have not gone. I hear so many stories from motel guests, that I think my little waspy personality would go into shock when I saw some of the things described to me. Maybe next year I will go to the parades only and avoid the later night revelries. I don't know how interested I am in seeing 80+ year olds in wheelchairs nude and body painted...

Working the motel is always fun. I love to see the costumes that guests wear and I love the guest's stories (my favorite is the repeat guest who brings two cameras - one set of photos to show his wife and family and one to show his friends). Getting people out on Sunday morning is always difficult. Everyone has fun. And, one guest from Scandinavia said "I thought Americans were prudish. I saw things there I have never seen." So, next year, plan to come down and join me and we will go over to the dark side.

Jungle Humor

I was sent this photo from a new friend, Rita, whom I met on the trip. It was taken during our hike in the Amazon rain forest but since I was at the top of the hill, I could not retreat back down to take a look at what all the commotion was about. All along the hike, our guide was pointing out this herbal remedy and that healing plant and all the myriad of natural remedies derived from nature along the way. All I could hear behind me regarding this particular jungle growth were twittering and comments about men coming to steal it, natural Viagra, etc. I had no idea what they were talking about until Rita showed us the photo during dinner a couple nights later and of course, after a glass of wine or two, the jokes got really silly. Like - weren't we viewing the photo upside down, etc. The best was when her husband, Helmut, who is as laid back and quiet as they get, commented, when we were discussing how the "root" was used to obtain the medicinal properties popped out with - "you have to squeeze it." I have some great ideas about using this in a birthday card for a friend who is soon to achieve a milestone birthday.

Ecuador Adventure

Harry and I standing on the north and south continents Hot springs in Papallate Cotopaxi volcano Taungurahua at sunset - the caldera was emitting steam the next morning Pato (guide) and myself Market place Pelileo (some indigenous people believe if you photograph them it steals their soul so had to do when she was not looking at us)

Typical scenery (sigh...)

Start of the Amazon rain forest Rain forest floor Plaintains being washed for transport Ready to hike the rain forestCasa Suiza in Amazon
Visited musicians home
Guinea pigs roasting for dinner

We just returned from a trip to Ecuador that far exceeded my expectations. We went on a tour, and I have hesitated in the past to do a group type trip on a tour bus. It was wonderful! We stayed in interesting locations and traveled with a group of fun and enthusiastic people. Our guide, Patricio Pugo, was knowledgeable about Ecuador, the history of South America and imparted his beautiful attitude and love of Pachamama (Mother Earth or nature in the Ecuadorian indigenous language) to us. He had such strong beliefs that the world is one people, that there should be no divisions among them, and that we can make our own happiness. He could bring tears to my eyes when he spoke.

The trip started in Quito, the capital of Ecuador, and made a loop through the country which is the size of Colorado. The first adjustment upon arrival was getting used to the high altitudes in the Andes Mts. Some in the group got nauseated but most just had a minor headache and the obvious shortness of breath upon exertions. But after time, we adjusted. After a tour of some highlights in Quito, including the most breathtaking Jesuit church decorated with some of the 900 kilos of gold that resides in Ecuadorian churches, our first day took us to the "0" latitude between North and South America, to an indigenous craft market and an overnight on a lake near Otavalo.

Everyday we had views of volcanoes lining the "Avenue of Volcanoes" in Ecuador and the weather was unusually clear for viewing. The landscape was breathtaking - from high Mountain tops to low valleys lush with farming, waterfalls, rivers and everywhere - the most amazing vistas. Some roads were terrifying. No guard rails, and twists and turns with sheer drops. In fact, I saw a painting in one church with a scene of the Virgin Mary looking down to bless the cars falling off the side of a mountain road. Really reassuring when the afternoon after I viewed that, we climbed a road that turned into a dirt road with drop-offs that had my hands sweating like mad! But, the lodge at the end of the road overlooking the active volcano Tunguraua was so worth the scare.

We traveled through cloud forests, and down to the Amazon rain forest. The Amazon had to be my favorite experience. We traveled by canoe down the Napo river to our lodge. Our room had a balcony overlooking the rain forest. It was hot and very humid and a bit like camping with screens on the windows to hear the sounds of the jungle. We had a frog in our bathroom upon arrival, and many tiny insects that squeezed through our screens climbing up and down the walls to get used to. I chose to not look closely. We visited indigenous people, saw how they lived, how they made chicha (an alcoholic drink made with manioc, sweet potato and a bit of spit - they assured us there was no spit in the bowl we passed to drink other than our own), had cacao bean spitting contests, and tried to hit a wooden monkey with blow darts. Maybe a bit staged for the tourists, but still, fun. I got to hike the rain forest in a preserve. Magical. So humid that you are drenched with sweat and there is no relief. Even with my intense fear of heights, I traversed small gorges on suspension bridges and even sat in a basket chair to zipline across a deeper valley. Everywhere we were surrounded with a constant drone of insects. The guide pointed out a tarantula, and healing plants. Large exotic colored butterflies drifted about but never settled for us to photograph them. The lush foliage and magical opportunistic plants climbing everywhere were heaven to me. After hiking, we canoed to a river bank where we were supposed to create our own balsa wood rafts, but because one of our group experienced some heat exhaustion, we were delayed and they were already put together. Logs lashed together with one stick in front and one in back and some of us (me included) rafted back to camp. What a total hoot!!

We also stayed in a lodge next to natural hot springs where we soaked while the rain pelted down on us. In the morning, the volcano Antisana was clearly visible above us. And, our last day we spent visiting the largest active volcano in the world, Cotopaxi, who's altitude is 19,347 feet. We drank Cacao leave tea to help us with the altitude adjustment. Above the treeline, it was eerily like a tundra you would imagine on a dead planet in outer space. And, looming above, the ice covered volcano that reminded me of why people have worshipped and feared the obvious presence in their world that controls their destiny.

I could go on and on with details of the people who were descendants of the Incas and then their Spanish conquerors, and their habits and costumes that we observed. Or of the dramatically prehistoric looking landscapes of their world. Or the rich and fertile lands that produces the most amazing variety of fruits and vegetables. But my very most favorite minute, was when we joined hands in a circle before entering the rain forest hike, and were told to close our eyes and listen to the sounds of Pachamamma, Mother Earth, and to thank her for our blessings. Amen to that.

Yom Kippur 2011

This coming Saturday is Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement in the Jewish faith. I have been reminded recently of how poorly people can treat one another because I joined a new womens' golf league. I have described my first three rounds of golf with this group as flashing back in time and entering an adult women version of the movie "Mean Girls." The first week, my cart partner talked negatively about a woman in the other cart in our foursome throughout the whole 18 holes. The second week, the woman who was "talked about" the previous week was again in my foursome, and during the round she hit my ball twice on one hole, which is a two stroke penalty each time. When reporting her score for the hole, she omitted the extra four strokes and when questioned by the scorer, who was my cart partner, the scorer was told to put "whatever the f**k score she wanted" down. I sat there dumbfounded and shocked! The women who made the comment approached me in the parking lot to confide to me that me the scorer, who was my cart partner and I thought a very pleasant woman, was so difficult and hard to play with and that no one liked her. Hey, I don't know any of these people and am just trying to be pleasant and play nice! The third week, I played in a threesome with two women who were just generally grumpy. I felt like I was walking around on egg shells and it was a lot of work to be so polite as well as be in top golf etiquette form!

These incidents have made me think about women, cliques and being mean. I cannot speak for men, but I do know that women can be awful. I can recount many, many incidents of feeling outside of the group, or intimidated, by women. When I worked at the Welfare Dept. in Cincinnati, I was promoted to supervisor rather quickly after joining the "elite" Children's Services Intake Department. After receiving the promotion, I got the icy shoulder by several of the women who had been in the Dept. longer than me, and who had applied for the job. So icy, that one woman would actually not talk to me unless there was a work related issue. I was terrified of her controlling demeaner and dreaded any contact I had with her!

When my kids were in the Orange school district, there was a group of very "in" mothers who ran the PTA and were always the class mothers - the coveted job of assisting the teacher in planning parties. These women were so intimidating to me and I could never quite figure out why. I always skirted those women and hung out on the periphery of the group and did my little volunteer activities with the other dorky moms like me. Those dorky moms were my sons' friend's moms, and some of the truly coolest women, ever! And what about the sports events? Holy cow - there were always parents of athletic kids making comments about the children who were not at their children's level of athletic achievement. No baseball or soccer game was ever a pleasant, fun event. I actually dreaded when my kid was up at bat. No matter how big the hit, it wasn't recognized by the dreaded soccer mom types. One of the biggest reliefs in having children who are adults, is not having to deal with other parents in that incredibly competitive world of academia where everyone else seems to want to project that they have the most perfect child ever born.

In the spirit of Yom Kippur, I must also ask for atonement for mistreating my fellow humans. Although, specifically, the events needing atonement should have occured in the past year, I want to go back a bit. I have deep regret that I was mean in the 7th grade to another girl named Carol. Why my little social group decided to exclude her is beyond my ability to recollect, but I do know that we called her a "Communist" in a note we passed around to each other and she saw it. At that time int he Cold War, that must have been a truly nasty thing to say, because she was so upset that her mother called the principal and we were made to sit down with him to discuss our bad behaviour. I am not sure I did feel so bad at the time, but I do now. Sorry, Carol! Please accept my apology. I was a "mean girl."

Of course, I have many, many other regrets for past behaviors toward my fellow humans. I think that I will not confess them in my blog. Nor, will I go to confession. Or therapy. I will keep them between myself and my maker. And, if any of you readers feel I have mistreated you - please leave a comment and I will address each and every one. In the mean time, I am preparing for round four in the new golf league and I am truly hoping my partner is the 84 year old Bromeliad grower I met the first week, who had nothing bad to say about anyone, was pleasant and smiles and says hello everytime I see her. Wish me luck.

Girls Rule and Boys Drool

Jack and great nephew Dominic Niece Trisha, Ruby and great niece Gianna
Sister Mary Beth and brother-in-law Tom
Matt and RubyMe and the goofballs

Matt brought the kids over from Toledo to stay overnight during my recent visit to Cleveland and while he cheered our Brownies on to victory, I took the kids down to my niece, Erin and her husband Dave's home in Vienna, Oh. Missing in photos, is brother Tom, who visited also. We went to the original Quaker Steak and Lube in Sharon, Oh (don't even bother with the franchises - you have to go to the original and see the motorcycles lined up) for wings. Then on to Erin and Dave's beautiful house that Dave built, to visit. The kids entertained, as usual. Dominic, who is turning 5, is a Steeler's fan much to his parents dismay. Asked why and his answer - "because they win and go to the Super Bowl." Logical? Gianna, who is the ultimate fashionista at the age of six, changed outfits twice and settled on a denim skirt and tank top, and of course, Miss Ruby, who is three, made me dig out hers to wear to match. Thank you Erin for fixing Ruby's hair! Trying to dress the kids Sunday morning was a challenge, since Daddy packed the overnight bag and seemed to have forgotten most everything. Especially since he took them the day before on an adventure in the Metroparks which included lots of water and mud. Erin did a load of wash for me, and of course found the requisite rubber crayfish in the laundry that fell out of Jack's pocket. Almost gave her an MI. Boys and treasures in their pockets! The group left for Dom's first flag football game, and Jack, Ruby and I headed to downtown Cleveland to meet up with their dad who was on a high from the Brown's win (I think that was what he was on a high from). The kids were too silly to get a good photo. Walking to dinner, I told Jack the expression "girls rule and boys drool." He said in a serious voice, "Grammy Care, that isn't nice to say." I looked over at him to apologize and he had spit drooling out of his mouth and down his chin. We cracked up. Soon it was time to say goodbye, and Jack's happy face turned to tears. He is such a tender heart - he always gets sad when I leave and that really brings me down. Ruby is another story. A sweet tender kiss and she is ready to roll. At least this time she didn't lick me goodbye!

Golf

Yes, I do golf. And, if you view the top photo, I almost look like I know what I am doing. But, despite the fact that I have been playing more regularly the past 10 years or so, I am still very average. Regardless, golf is the most wonderful game. You are outside. You are in fresh air. You are generally with like minded people (at least they also like golf). And, you actually have the chance, because of some confluence of a huge number of factors, to create a shot that makes you so happy that you keep trying, over and over, to recreate it.

I played in Cleveland this past weekend in the EWGA Cleveland Chapter's year end outing. I also belong to the Miami Chapter. EWGA is a terrific organization. It stands for Executive Women's Golf Association and is some 20,000+ members strong in the US, Canada and Europe. Besides the local Chapters, and many other events across the country each year, the National organization sponsors a yearly Championship and I was lucky enough one year to make it through the local tournament, the Sectionals and on to the National tournament in Nashville with a scramble team. It was the highlight of my golfing experiences so far - they made us feel like the LPGA!

This past Saturday in Medina, Ohio was beautiful day with just a hint of fall in the air. I played with three friends; Fern, Peggy and Elsa. I have known Fern for over 30 years, since we attended graduate school together at Case Western Reserve. She was one of the first people I met after moving to Cleveland. All the angst over that move was dissipated when I realized what a great place Cleveland is - especially the people. Peggy and Elsa are friends made through EWGA. In fact, we have golfed in Florida and Arizona - and hopefully will play in many more new locations. Ireland is on the horizon.

None of us won any prizes this year, but we had fun. In fact, we probably didn't win any prizes because we had too much fun and not too much focus. Like when Fern's white pedometer fell out of her pants pocket as she teed off and Elsa thought it was her teeth. No, Fern does not have dentures. That started the giggles. And, while waiting around on EVERY HOLE for the very slow group in front of us, I was able to catch up with friends and find out what is happening in their lives. Maybe GOLF stands for great old lady friends. (Old friends who are ladies, not old ladies who are friends)!

Handcuffin' Harry

There is a saying in the Keys - "you come on vacation and go home on probation." Add Labor Day long weekend to the mix, and lookout - trouble is brewing everywhere.

When we arrived at work early this morning, we were greeted by young people in two cars looking for a room to sleep in before heading north to go home. They had been up all night. I only had one room available (and didn't know they were going to sneak 7 in a room for 4) and I began the check-in process with one of the young men. When we got to paying though, the young man realized he didn't have enough money to cover the room plus a security deposit, since he didn't have a credit card. He told me he had spent a lot of money this weekend. He went back to the car to see if he could scrounge up the total needed from his buddies, but instead, they decided to book out. Harry watched the young woman driving one of the cars back up into our car, breaking the light and denting the front, and they all took off. And so did Harry, behind them calling 911. Mind you, there is only one road out of Dodge - US1. When the two cars saw Harry, they turned off a side road probably thinking they could lose him in a neighborhood. Duh, the roads in the Keys end up in the Atlantic or the Gulf and they ended up facing a one lane gravel path. Harry had them cornered all the while on the phone with 911 and reporting their license plate numbers. The group made some menacing remarks, like "there are seven of us", but the police came and took over.

Dumb kids. All they had to do was come in, say "oops" and we would have worked something out. Instead, the police discovered that the young woman was driving on a learner's permit with no adult old enough to supervise her in the car. And, she left the scene of an accident. (If you are going to try and say you didn't do it, make sure you don't have a stripe of our paint on your car). And, she was an underage driver in a rental car. And she made an improper backing up motion. And her uncle rented the car for the young people in his name. So, now she has 12 points on her driving record, no chance of getting a license and has to come to court down here in December on criminal charges.

I felt sorry for her at first. Until the police officer said they were trouble, all lied about what happened and that one of the kids had been in jail. Eventually the truth came out but they apparently gave him a very hard time. Not such a good idea when you are visiting here, because apparently the adage is true - you will end up on probation!

The Other Coast

Tour guide and step-bro Ron Tureck



The other tour guide - Harvey, and his wife Sue and Lady Doris

We just returned from a West Coast trip to visit Harry's stepmom. Doris moved one year ago this week from LA to an assisted living facility in Marin County. Her two sons live nearby and it was a good move for her. Unfortunately we live pretty darn far from her but try to go to see her as often as possible and really are enjoying this new area of the country to explore with her. We also really enjoy Doris's children (stepsibs) so it makes for a fantastic mini-vacation. Since my last blog was about appliances, including my TV recollections, I got a kick out of the irony of seeing a display in the San Francisco airport of the history of television. There were Howdy Doody and Buffalo Bob staring back at me from one of the displays. While looking at all of the TV sets, and shapes and sizes of screens and cabinets, I had a jolt of a memory of putting some sort of film over the screen and then you drew what was presented on the TV show. If someone remembers this, please comment. Was it called Winky Dink??

The "Bay Area" is really wonderful, with many micro-climates within an hour's drive. The fog rolls in over San Francisco and the temperature can be 10 degrees or more cooler than Marin county. I loved leaving yesterday morning and driving across the Golden Gate bridge looking up at the suspension wires disappearing into the fog. We took two day-trips during our stay. One into the Sonoma valley, and one to the Coastal National Park called Point Reyes. And, since you have to become a "foodie" when you visit these agricultural areas, we had exceptional meals. And, of course, great wine. I practically drooled all over my tee shirt at the amazing hiking trails with vistas of the Pacific. The highest point in Florida is probably the place in Ft. Lauderdale where they bury garbage! I think it is called Mt. Trash. Unfortunately, Doris is having some difficulty walking so our forays from the car are short distances. Harry is in love with the Redwoods. We bought oysters and artesanal cheeses also to accompany the wonderful dinner we had at Harvey's house near Berkeley. And, we saw the cattle farms that produce the milk that make the cheese. I swear, they did look happy!

Memory Lane

I am on a roll lately on the blogs. I do not know why my mind works this way. I have periods of dull thinking and then suddenly, flashes of memories that I have to put down on paper, or in my case, computer screen.

Yesterday our washing machine took a turn for the worse. We declared it dead, considering the costs of repair would about equal what it initially cost to buy. Sad thing, this planned obsolescence. So, we trekked off to purchase a new one and ended up buying an LG high efficiency washer that does not have an agitator, nor is it a front loader. Since my darling nephew Dan has started working for LG as an engineer developing Lithium Ion batteries for cars, I thought I would support his company and insure another paycheck for him, perhaps? And also, I was intrigued by the rave reviews of this product. It reminded me of the action an old time washboard uses. Which started me down memory lane...

I remember when my mother had a washer with a wringer on it, and I imagine no dryer when I was small. The clothes were squeezed through the frightening rollers that looked like they could crush our little hands, and hung on lines - either outside or inside in the basement in inclement weather. Wow, our towels must have really been like loofahs. We had two gigantic stationary tubs made of cast concrete (with a lead pipe for a drain!) and water was re-used after one washing for a second load to conserve money. I swear, our clothes smelled great! Maybe that was from hanging in the sun or the high phosphate detergents.

Another early memory that I have is listening to the radio with my older sister Suzanne on Saturday mornings before we had a television. The two shows that I remember were The Lone Ranger and a show that had characters named Big John and Little Sparky. The theme song was the Teddy Bear's Picnic and although I had to be really young, I can remember the song lyrics - "If you go down in the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise..." (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-fJlykpGjY) Big John would ask you to check your fingernails to see if they were clean and I remember doing so, thinking he could see through the radio! I also remember sitting in the corner of the living room where the radio lived and melting a Hershey bar near the furnace vent until it was so soft that it could be licked off the paper. Did this happen every Saturday morning like my memory tells me. Unlikely!! Probably once. Sodas, candy and the like were not regular parts of our diet - no wonder the memory stuck - it was so special.

The TV that took the radio's place was of course, black and white. My uncle Charles in Martins Ferry, Ohio was the first person I knew to have a color TV and I remember watching Bonanza. What a miracle to see the orange flames licking the corners of the introduction screen. Big Hoss had a rather greenish complexion as I recall, but who cared? I do not know when that invention was introduced to our wonderful little colonial in Youngstown, Ohio. I do remember my father being on an endless trek to Brown's Pharmacy nearby to use the tube tester machine. He would have to go into the back of the TV, and pull out tubes to be tested to figure out what the problem was. It really seemed like our first TV was in need of repair more than it worked. But, what a great invention. Saturday mornings with Fury (that horse could count!), and Sky King. And how about Howdy Doody? I am not sure if that was a local or national show. In my clouded childhood hazy memory, my older sister was actually on that show. Maybe since I thought she could do anything she would, of course, have been part of the audience.

Of course, there were many more amenities that today would seem obsolete. I was reminded recently that we had no air conditioning in our home when we were children. Summers meant open windows and with that, all the wonderful sounds of summer. Lawn mowers, cicadas, and even, if the wind was right, the rides at Idora Park Amusement park. The down side, of course, was lying in your bed on a hot night praying for the fan or an outside storm to create any little breeze. We also had our milk delivered to our house and put in an aluminum box outside on the breezeway. We had an egg man who delivered fresh eggs from his farm.

I could go on, but of course, anyone younger than me who might happen to read this, will by now be rolling their eyes at my old fogey memories. But I would give anything to have my father and mother reminding me of what life was like in their childhood. And how the heck did my grandmothers do the laundry for all those kids they had? Probably using a washing machine that had a washboard action - them!

Amy and Susan

Sam's dynamic duo of friends from Jr. High days on visited this past week. One day, while Sam was working, I took them to the Everglades National Park in search of alligators. We did encounter a huge one, lolling about by the side of the path. You can see him peeking up at us. Sorry, I didn't hang around to get a close up. Rather unnerving yet exciting. We also visited "Robert is Here", a well known South Florida fruit stand known for it's array of unusual produce and tropical flavored milkshakes. The neon purple fruit is called Dragon fruit. I would like to match that color for my next pedicure. After dinner with Harry and I, they even indulged me in a game of Scrabble. After that day, they were with Sam - off to Key West and other adventures for a week.

Amy and Susan had not seen each other for a very long time. Amy, on the left, is studying film at an art academy in San Francisco. Susan, on the right, is finishing her degree in Social Work at OSU and trying to get into the one year accelerated Master's program. They are somewhat opposite in nature. Amy is quieter, easy going and accepting. Susan is driven, talkative, and opinionated. Amy reminds me of a Dr. Seuss character. She is always dressed colorfully and decorated with accessories. She loves to knit and crochet and do crafts. When she mentioned perhaps working for Cirque du Soleil after school is finished, I thought she has perhaps found her calling. She would be outstanding as a set or costume designer. Susan has put herself through college, works long hours and does lots of volunteer work to further her career goals. I believe her determination is fostered by her father's proclamation that she would never succeed on her own. He refused to pay for school and she had to leave home and not turn back. She gained emancipation status and has done it on her own. She won't just be a Social Worker, she will probably run a non-profit. Great young women and great friends to Sam.

Chutzpah

Chutzpah is the quality of audacity, for good or for bad, but it is generally used negatively. The word derives from the Hebrew word ḥuṣpâ (חֻצְפָּה), meaning "insolence", "audacity", and "impertinence."

An example - today I am at work at the Sea Dell. I received a phone call from a gentleman informing me that he was from the Middle Keys Dive School and that they would be using the pool in a few minutes for their lessons. I told him I didn't know what he was talking about. Was he a guest at the motel? No, he informed me, but that he had permission to use the pool and often came here to give instructions. He seemed annoyed at me for not understanding! I informed him that either myself, or my husband, would be the person who would have given him permission, and I didn't. But I would check with my husband. Which I did. And no, Harry had never spoken to the gentleman. (Although, I would not call his type of man a gentleman.) Harry went to the pool and the group was already making themselves quite comfortable. Harry gave him the option of renting a room and giving the lesson, or hitting the road.

I spoke with our manager who said that he had been here before giving lessons and had told her that he had permission. She felt badly that she had not questioned it. Why would she; he presented himself so authoritatively. There must be some sort of Karma going on here with our run of dirtbags lately. I will have to smack myself upside the head and get my Pollyanna attitude on. I need to get back on the sunny side!

Gone!

Phew. The PD (Professional Deadbeat) moved out today. No, the eviction did not occur. After discussing with our lawyer, it became more feasible to pay the family to leave. The eviction was going to take long enough that the lost rent would be offset by money to "assist" the exodus. The house is fairly intact, minus lamps, silverware, all linens and two beds. Goodbye and another life lesson learned. Oh, we did inherit a 1995 BMW 530 that is not running, in case anyone wants a Beemer...

Professional Deadbeat

If you rent to someone, and they don't pay the rent, you have to go to court to evict them.

Does this make sense, that the person is holding your property hostage and yet you have to pay to go through a tedious time consuming process to get them to leave?

Well, we have what Harry calls a "professional deadbeat" holding our rental house hostage. And, we are discovering that he is way more clever and dangerous than we first imagined.

This man brought his pregnant wife and three sons here from Chicago. He told Harry an elaborate story about why they had needed to leave that area and that he was a trucker and would be making long hauls with his own truck. He paid up front for the first month and security deposit, no problem. There was a problem with the air conditioning and when Harry went to the house, he was thrilled at how clean they were keeping it. The first of the next month came and went - no rent. Harry contacted the tenant after it was late for a few days and the tenant said that his wife had delivered the baby and was depressed and he had needed the money to buy her mother a plane ticket to come here from Poland. Because she was so depressed, he hadn't been able to work as much but would catch up. My radar was catching some clues that made me uncomfortable when he starting ranting on the phone about the poor medical treatment his wife had received after the delivery. Of course, he has no insurance and the hospital will be eating the expense but instead of gratitude he was full of complaints.

More time passed, no rent. We didn't here from the tenant unless we called which is always a bad sign. If someone has intent to pay you, they call and ask for an extension. He said his truck's computer had been stolen causing him extra expenses. Then we received a call from the next door neighbor saying the police had been to the house twice in the middle of the night with a warrant for the tenant's arrest but he was not there. We got nervous and made arrangements to inspect the house and the wife told us that she would not move until "the court throws me out." Not what I would call a responsible attitude! I did a photo inventory and discovered beds and mattresses that were part of the furniture in the rental were missing. Much of our furniture was placed on the upper porch out in the elements. Harry noticed that the garden hose was up on the upper second floor deck.

Harry started the eviction notice and a three day notice was taped to the inside of the door because it was raining. The wife called the police. (Yes, Harry was wrong, you cannot enter the house without permission - but you know he is a bit of a buckaroo). Then, the tenant called one evening ranting and raving and not making much sense. He accused Harry of slashing his wife's tires and denting her car! Harry hung up the phone and called the police. He said he just wanted on record that he had received a threatening phone call but did not want to file charges. The eviction proceedings continued, only to be thrown out by the judge on a technicality - that we had a P.O Box and by law the clients needed two more days than normal in the proceedings. Of course, no one told us that. Going to the court house to do this process is like finding the light switch in the dark in a house you have never been in because you have no idea what you are doing and get zero help from the clerks. Harry had great luck finding a person in another city who took the time to answer his questions, but at our court house, forget it.

So, the proceedings began again. The tenant made another veiled threat to Harry. In the meantime, the tenant is back at home with his semi in the front yard and a hose broke spewing hydraulic fluid all over the street and yard. This is very caustic material and the neighbor called, yet again and reported the tenant to the code violation people. Poor neighbor, I am sure he is just thrilled with our renter at this point who now has a semi in the yard. Harry visited the renter again, who now seemed rational and shared a long tale of woe with Harry about how he didn't get paid for $25,000 worth of hauls because the contractor went bankrupt and how his truck is broken, his father is an alcoholic and cannot help and wants to give up and move back to Poland. At this point, we cannot wait to get the man moved out and Harry is willing to help him in any way (including giving him money) to get his truck fixed, loaded and out of town. I told Harry he was nuts, that this guy is trouble. He vacillates from charming and engaging to threatening. Fortunately, Harry kept his wallet in his pocket!

The kicker came today. Our realtor accompanied Harry to the house today along with the Bank Appraiser on an appointment set up several days ago(all legal and part of the lease) and the tenante would not let them in but pointed through the front door to a huge hole in the front hall ceiling and the tenant begins a story about mold with more veiled threats to Harry that the tenant is going to go to court and say that he hasn't paid the rent because the landlord hasn't taken care of the house. The realtor commented that there has never been any damage to the ceiling before she has been in the house many times. What Harry discovered is that the hose he noticed on the second floor deck is now running into the house upstairs throught the sliding glass door at the spot of the hole in the ceiling. Fortunately, I have photos taken two week prior and the condition of the house is perfect.

So, Harry is at the courthouse yet again, filing charges for destruction of property, threatening phone calls, and whatever else the police suggest. He is also trying to find out what happened with the warrant for arrest that was outstanding before - but interestingly, the contract is in the wife's name and we have no clue what the husband's (who I have been calling the tenant) last name is. Therefore, we cannot assist the police in searching their records for a warrant. Wily fellow!

I imagine the tenant threatened the man in Chicago who supposedly didn't pay him and that man filed charges. Maybe my imagination is running wild with that idea, but if someone is willing to create the chaos he has so far, nothing would surprise me. I will have to keep you posted, because when the judge rules the family has to leave, they have 24 hours, period. That should be interesting.

The very sad thing is that the children are caught in the middle of a maelstrom with two very devious, "professional deadbeat" parents. And, at the suggestion of the sheriff, we need to hire an attorney to make sure that we get these people out. So, kiss more money goodbye. Harry's mistake, he should have done a background check. However, who thinks like that? Not us. What happened to a handshake and a deal's a deal?

Neighborhood

While riding around the neighborhood on my bike, I snap photos of things of interest. Here are a few of the neighbor's mailboxes. Not quite the same as the ones I used to see in my old Pepper Pike neighborhood. These probably wouldn't fit into the zoning restrictions there!

Sperm Whales!

Based on my son Matt's assessment of the dorsal fins and color of the whales, he believed the whales were not Pilot, but perhaps Sperm whales. And those of you who know my Matt, he knows his fish (and mammals). So I sent photos to the Marine Mammal Conservancy, and indeed, they confirmed that they were great Sperm Whales. Even more exciting to me, because, although he was not white, he was Moby Dick to me! And, this is no fish story - it happened! Right in the Florida Keys.

Whale I'll Be Darned!

Harry and I had just about the most perfect fishing day ever, today. Flat calm going out, and action all over the place. I believe the full moon may have something to do with the fact that fish were hungry and active. Birds were diving, bait fish were jumping and we caught Wahoo, Blackfin Tuna and Mahi Mahi during the course of the day. Dinner is looking promising!

But, the very most exciting thing happened when I thought I sighted a fish jumping in the water way off in the distance. After this white plume of water occurred four times in a row, Harry proclaimed it was a whale. I couldn't believe it. I have never heard of sightings here except the occasional sick ones that come in close to shore and usually die. In fact, two are being rehabilitated in Key Largo right now. We approached it and got right next to it, but when it submerged and went under the boat, I freaked out a bit. I kept having Moby Dick visions in my head and our boat being upended. After all, this fellow was about the size of our boat. He dove under us and I ran for the camera. We saw him again, and then three others in a pod. It was just amazing.
I put this illustration to give a sense of the size. It looked a lot bigger than that when you are 22 miles out at sea and in 1400' deep water! The water was so blue and so clear. After leaving the whale for more adventures, I looked down next to the boat and saw a huge marlin, lit up blue and beautiful. Just hanging out with us. I think I chattered non-stop for an hour after all of this excitement. What a place. What a day.

Bufo Marinus

Who knew that this gnarly looking little creature, who has taken up habitat by my water lily pond, is potentially lethal to my dog and three cats? Well, I sure didn't. Until Sam and I did a little research to identify the little fellow, who we have named Buford.

At first, we were all excited that he appeared at night, sitting on the edge of the pond, bellowing. But the second time we saw him, with only his eyes peering over the edge of the lily pad, I decided to try and identify him. He is the largest toad I have ever seen. In fact, they have found them up to 15" long. Gulp. That makes him bordering on dinosaur status to me.

The disturbing part of the report was that they are poisonous to dogs and cats and cause many pet deaths in the Keys. They live in the sub-tropical climates. They have parotoid glands that secrete a poison. Have you ever heard the expression "don't lick a toad or you will hallucinate"? Well, there you go.

So, the best advice that we got was not to try and catch it and move it, but to, sorry to say this, destroy it. I will leave that mission to Dirty Harry and hope that it happens swiftly and when I am not around.

The Keys are a scary environment! Pythons coming down from the Everglades, alligators and even the rarer crocodiles in resident's canals, leaping barracudas biting onto people, and the famous spotted Eagle ray who leap out of the water in joyous reproductive enthusiasm and whacked a tourist just as her boat was speeding by at 30mph. UH OH. Hey, I have even had my dog attacked by a grumpy mother bird on one of our leisurely strolls about the neighborhood. I don't know who freaked out more.

Summer Vacation II

After enjoying a week with the Urichs, I was kind of blue saying goodbye to my grand babies, but a week in Myrtle Beach with my brother Tom, my niece Erin and her husband Dave and children Dominic and Gianna, and my niece Trish was just the ticket to perk me back up. Their family friends were also there and as you can see in the bottom picture, it was a big group. The blue t-shirts had every one's nickname on the back, and I was included although missed the group picture that occurred the second week when the rest of the crowd arrived. I did get a last minute photo in with Dom and Gigi, my great nephew and niece. I can barely open my eyes after the previous evening's gin and tonic's and homemade salty nuts and bolts that are a requisite accompaniment.

Harry drove up with me and flew back mid-week. We made a quick trip up to see my house in North Carolina that is still on the market, in case anyone wants to buy a lovely home in a 36 hole golf course gated community in the middle of pig farm country. The building boom sure died the minute I finished the house!

Other activities included the usual golf, beach, pool, dining and vacation activities. Myrtle Beach is a perfect family vacation venue with the main drag lined with every conceivable entertainment available. Want to see Pirates pillaging and looting while eating dinner? Done. Ripleys Believe it or Not? Done. South Carolina's version of the Grand Ole Opry? Done. Every chain restaurant known to man? Done. Shopping? Done. The whole scene made me think of overweight middle America. On the other hand -gorgeous golf courses lined with blooming Crepe Myrtles? A beach with comfortable, shallow warm water? Affordable condominiums everywhere? Forget cultural exploration and history. This was the perfect vacation place to spend time with family, reconnect, talk, cry and laugh. I am so glad that my niece invited me to go along. In case anyone has missed my previous hundred or so posts regarding my family - they are wonderful. I am so blessed.

Summer Vacation I

Megan, Matt, Jack & Ruby left on Tuesday night and it is so hard to say goodbye. But, we packed a whole lot of activity in six days. We spent the first two days in Key Largo, on the boat or in the water. We also included a Happy Birthday party for Guinness, who turned 13. Or maybe it was his Bark Mitzvah?

On the first day, we headed out to sea and Megan caught a great Mahi Mahi which became our first night's dinner. We were just getting into the fish when a storm blew up to the east and when we saw lightening and water spouts forming from the dark clouds, we raced ahead of it to get close to shore at Rodriquez Key, where we anchored the boat in the warm shallows and lolled about in the water. The second day was a snorkeling day and Jack, age six, was able to snorkel the reef with his parents for his first time. That fearless kid had a blast touching the fish that surrounded him while Ruby and I threw crumbs overboard into the water.

We then headed to Sanibel Island for a couple days. Megan's brother, Ryan, and his fiance, Julie, drove down from Orlando to join us. We had a great time in the ocean and pool and later, after a super dinner at Doc Ford's, one of Harry and my favorite places, we sat on the beach watching the stars and lightening off in the distance. One of my favorite things to do on Sanibel is be on the beach at sunset, when the light changes to pink and everything takes on a magical, warm glow. Walking along in the low tide, shelling, is definitely one of my favorite activities. It is the ultimate treasure hunt. I cannot go there without thinking of my mom, who got so excited plunging into the surf for a shell treasure, that she lost the condo keys that were in her hand to the mighty Gulf of Mexico.

Ruby liked the pool and beach so much that she hid in the closet when it was time to leave. But, driving home across the Everglades was fun. Harry and I had the kids in our car and Ruby entertained us with made up songs and Harry kept the kids in an uproar by opening the sunroof during rain showers.

When we got back, Matt, Jack and I got our gear ready and headed out to try Tarpon fishing. This was a new experience for me. We trailered the flats boat, launched it and headed to the Channel five bridge. After anchoring and tying a rubber buoy to the anchor with a bungee attached to the boat for quick release, we kicked back to let our bait float back behind the boat. After about an hour, suddenly Matt's rod bent over and the hugest behemoth Tarpon jumped totally out of the water - about 80# of silver muscle shot straight up in the air behind the boat and I lost my Grammy cool and shouted "holy s**t." Matt didn't have time to say "MOM" because he had to hand the rod to me and jump back to release the boat from the anchor. Away we went on a 40 minute battle. I just couldn't do it. I twice had to give the rod over to Matt and when I developed a huge blister on my thumb, he took over for good. The fish took us all over the place but when he was finally tiring and we were about to get our trophy photo, he got off. We never even got a great picture of it jumping. He wanted to stay deep and that meant it was hard to tire him out. But now, I am "hooked" and cannot wait to try again. Another great and exciting experience.

Last day meant one last trip to the nearby local pool. With a kiddie pool with pirate ship, slides and the like, and three other pools, it is a wonderful community treat within a five minute walk from the house. And Jack, ever fearless, went off of the high dive for the first time. Not once, but over and over.

I haven't even mentioned how incredible my grand kids are. Ruby, age 2, is a "hoot." Talks all the time. Sings, dances and performs at the drop of a hat. And, she is funny. My favorite - when looking at photos of her as a baby, Megan mentioned to me the time we went to get her bangs cut. Ruby got her frown face on and said, "Momma, why you cut my golden hair?" A princess in the making. Jack, age 6, is much quieter, and such a happy boy. He is always smiling. He is thoughtful and observant. My favorite - he asked me how I made my gardens. And, he listened while I explained. And then he said, "Grammy, I think your house is beautiful." Jack loves it down here and it amazes me how much he is like his dad in that way. All things fishing interest him also. I know Matt is thinking - "Phew - someone to pole me around the flats someday."

What a spectacular visit. I miss them so!