The Dec-o-tater

I just returned from my trip north to celebrate Christmas with my family.  My sister, Mary Beth and her husband Tom, hosted the event and also threw in a Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas morning breakfast for me and my sister and husband who also came in from DC.  I mean, we are talking Christmas china, silver... the works.  The usual crowd of my mom's side of the family arrived Christmas Day and all of the traditions that we always do were incorporated.  We have added a few changes over the years, with a new cookie or two, or a new food item, but the routine is pretty much the same.  Eat, talk and laugh loudly, drink mulled wine, repeat numerous times and have a White Elephant gift exchange.

The gift exchange was particularly lively this year.  Some highly sought after and repeatedly stolen items included 20% alcohol beer smuggled in from Michigan, the Holy Toast maker which creates an image of the Virgin Mary on your morning toast, a souvenir tin of tea from the Royal Wedding and, the pièce de résistance, the Dec-o-tater.

My sister is a columnist for the Akron Beacon Journal.  After writing a story about our family's pet potato, http://www.ohio.com/lifestyle/breckenridge/mary-beth-breckenridge-gifts-that-keep-on-giving-1.354247, a retired Portage County judge sent her a funky little potato as a gift.  And sure enough, it showed up as the following:

In addition, to all of the fun that my sister created for us, she also made a slide show of old family photos which ran on the TV screen during the day.  AND, we each received a copy.  I will share some of those gems in another blog.  What a nice way to remember all the family times and members who are no longer with us, or not able to attend our gathering.  It was so lovely.  I have learned to welcome that aspect of the holidays and no longer dread the sadness for times and people who are gone.  The memories get larger and more clear.  There can be such joy in loss, I have decided.



The day after Christmas was a bust, however. My grand kids had to return to Toledo instead of staying overnight with me when threats of a winter storm thwarted our plans.  In fact, after running a few errands in the morning before the snows began, I slowly made it back to the hotel where I spent the day, unable to venture out on the roads.  And today, after delayed flights, and sitting around in the airport, I finally made it home.  Despite the glitch in plans, the holiday was perfect. 

Holly, Jolly

Every year I intend to get cleverly crafted homemade Christmas cards in the mail.  Ha!  I don't know why it is always a few days before Christmas when I kick into gear.  I think having upbeat versions of Christmas Carols thumping during water aerobics this morning jump started my last hurrah.  Today is a cookie baking, last minute gift buying kind of day.  There is some problem living in the south where there is no cold, no smell of pine, no snow and no motivation.  So, this lame little homemade e-card will have to do.  But I want all of my family and friends to know that we think of you often, miss you, and if we do not see you this holiday season, we hope to soon! 

Follow your Instincts!

My blog is graphic and may be unsettling, but I write it to understand my own behaviour in hopes that others will act more aggressively if they encounter a situation that is similar.

The last visit that I had with my primary care physician, Dr. Mark Shaffer in Cleveland, before I moved to the Keys, was very troubling.  It happened perhaps six years ago and I remember it so vividly.  I sat on the examining table dressed in my little cotton shift talking to the Dr. during my annual routine physical visit and the conversation led into a path that I found uncomfortable and inappropriate.  In fact, I could not wait until the visit was over and I could get out of the room which began to feel unsafe and claustrophobic.  I do not know how the conversation turned, but Dr. S. began to tell me that he was having problems with his daughter who had accused him of molesting his own grandson.  And, he proceeded to tell me in detail about why there was a misunderstanding.  That his pre-adolescent grandson had asked to understand how to masturbate and Dr. Shaffer showed his the sensitive part of a penis.  I remember the Dr.'s exact words... "after all, for God's sake, I am a Doctor."  And from there, Dr. S. led into a discussion of his own sexual addictions and counseling he had been having because he had had multiple affairs which were ruining his marriage.

I was thinking the whole time - what???  Why was he telling me this?  I surmised that perhaps it was because I had been a therapist in the past and had some sort of open face and accepting persona that told people to share their intimate issues.  This same Dr. had shared other personal issues with me in the past, but I put them aside because he was a very thorough diagnostician and a patient and attentive family doctor. 

I left the office and saw his nurse on he way out.  I knew Jan from over 20 years of visits and for the first time, I told her I thought Dr. Shaffer was out of line and something was wrong.  I left the office disturbed and upset.  I discussed the scenario with friends and Harry and the summation ranged from "crazy" to "he was hitting on you."  I decided to end my relationship of over 20 years, but I did not address his actions or tell him why.  After the visit, I received a note from him saying my EKG was irregular and that I needed to come in and see him again to discuss it.  As much as that medical information upset me, I scheduled another test with another physician who evaluated and declared my EKG test to be normal.  I wondered if Dr. S. felt he had told me too much and needed an excuse to see me again to undo the damages.  I was perplexed and distressed!  What did he see in my EKG?  Was there something there that someone else would not notice?

I eventually put the whole incident behind me but today, received a text from a friend that Dr. Shaffer was on the news last night.  Here is the story...

AURORA -- Authorities say a 79-year-old northeast Ohio physician is accused of molesting children since the late 1990s.

A Portage County grand jury has indicted Dr. Mark Shaffer Jr., 79, on 24 counts including two counts of rape, 11 counts of gross sexual imposition, 10 counts of pandering obscenity and 1 count of kidnapping.

On November 28 search warrants were executed at both Shaffer's Aurora home and Bainbridge office as part of an on-going Postal Service investigation into alleged distribution on child porn.

Investigators say Shaffer agreed to an interview at the police station following the searches of his home and office. Aurora Chief Seth Riewaldt said Shaffer told officers that "for several years he had engaged in sexual activity with numerous children."
Shaffer his being held on a $100,000 bond. He has been fired from his job.

Now I am left with a sense of guilt.  Why didn't I pursue this and contact the AMA?  Or the Cleveland Clinic?  Or the police. Or confront Dr. Shaffer at that time and tell him how awkward he made me feel and how crazy he sounded.  I have no idea other than I am too damn proper and reserved to upset anyone and I was only looking at how he upset me and not that he was potentially a predator.  In fact, I never gave a thought to the idea that he would be a child molester.  I made the assumption from his confessions of his sexual addictions and affairs that he was talking about adults, and women.  I discounted the information about his grandson as being just nutty and inappropriate, not sexual.   I feel badly.   And hope that if you read this, and you have some sense that something is not right, you will remember my story and pursue your gut feelings.  Because instincts should not be ignored.  I did, and that may have cost a child some suffering and I am not going to rest easy over this.  I have contacted the Police Dept. in Aurora, Oh to share what information I have. 

December blooms

Some new orchids are blooming.

 Aeranges Biloba

 Catasetum - strangest orchid.  Loses all leaves and the flower comes out of the bare stalk.  And the flower - stunning and so fragrant.  It stares at me with it's big cyclops looking face and I sigh.

 Cattleya.  This time of year I am in Cattleya heaven.

A Vanda.  They just hang there with there roots cascading down.  No potting medium.  Bizarre.

Not Really Funny

I have recently decided that I am NOT a fan of practical jokes.  Some Karma in the air has forced two upon me in the past couple weeks and I just have to spout off my displeasure.

The first entailed a friend bringing her husband by the motel to say "hi" one day when she knew I would be working.  I had never met him.  I was "buzzed" to the office from another part of the property and charged up to the front door.  I greeted the gentleman standing there and asked if I could help him.  He asked if I rented rooms by the hour.  I responded, no, that we only rented nightly - all the while thinking of names for the man like "sleazeball, pervert, creepazoid" etc.  I wasn't taken aback, because, frankly, people do occasionally inquire of this form of rental but generally they rent the room and if they leave after a couple hours, hey, not my business.  The man was so persistent that I became flustered until I looked over at the woman standing off to the side and saw my friend.  Frankly, she didn't look so amused either but he thought it was a real hoot.

Today I had a guest walk into the office and announce that the masseuse that the desk clerk on duty last night had procured had not shown up.  OK, in my naive and Clorox addled head, I am thinking licensed physiotherapist and he was thinking backroom in Hong Kong.  After I apologized and fussed  trying to solve the dilemma because I thought the guest was really upset,  he burst out laughing at his own joke and my response.

And there was the epic practical joke last year that still makes me cringe.  My son's boss came to visit with Matt for a fishing trip and after dinner at a local joint and probably too many beers, the boss thought it would be so much fun to stiff the waitress he had been chatting up during dinner and pretend like we didn't leave a tip.  I protested heartily but he insisted and since he was paying the bill, and was my son's boss, what could I say.  I just hustled out of the way since I was embarrassed.  However, the waitress marched out of the restaurant to follow him where he was waiting while just beaming with pride over his cleverness.  She was not amused, nor was I.  I do have to say that he tipped her very generously, but I suppose she would have rather had less tip and more dignity.

Because, as I see it, a practical joke is funny only as long as someone is not used for the entertainment of others.  So, please, in the future, don't use me in your own little fantasies of funny, gentlemen.  Save it for your guy friends who somehow might think you are clever. 

Motel stories

I have people tell me that they enjoy hearing stories about the Sea Dell motel, so I thought I would entertain with the latest.  Harry received a call early in the AM last night from the Holiday Inn Express.  They are the only "chain" hotel in Marathon, where the Sea Dell is located and when they have overflow, they send them to us (nice compliment!).  Harry picks up the phone after hours when our staff has gone home, and we have a person who will go and do late night check-ins.  We cannot complain about the phone ringing in the middle of the night - because, as Harry says, "it's money calling."

However, last night the desk clerk at the Holiday Inn had a guest who was 57 years old with no credit card who wanted to use their mother's card number.  It is the Holiday Inn's strict policy to not use another person's credit card unless they can get the registration signed and faxed back by the card owner.  And this potential guest said his mother did not have a fax machine.  We also have that policy in place, but there are occasionally situations where we break that rule.  For example, we have had young people stranded with car problems and didn't have enough money to rent a room for the night and we will discuss with parents on the phone and approve a charge. 

Harry asked the clerk if the guest had a valid driver's license.  No, the guest's license was expired and he arrived on bicycle.  Harry then asked for the mother's phone number so that Harry could talk to her.  The clerk asked the guest for the phone number and then said in an absolute panic that she had to hang up, the man fell to the floor clutching his chest stating he had chest pains and that she thought he was having a heart attack and she had to call 911.

Harry called the clerk back after a half hour to check on how the man was.   The clerk informed Harry that when the EMS arrived, they knew the man, that he as a runaway from a halfway house and had "mental problems."  The poor clerk had been terrified.  The man was carted away.  Another day in the life of the motel business.

Girlfriends

Peggy Kordic, Me, Alex Kordic, Fern Grunberger and Lynne Goldman

I visited Cleveland earlier this month to help host a shower for the lovely Alex Kordic who will be getting married in March.  I met her mom, Peggy, and another woman, Fern, in grad school at Case Western Reserve University shortly after I moved to Cleveland in 1977.  That move was a low point in my life - I think it snowed the first three months straight, I didn't know a soul and I moved away from a city I loved.  I remember that the interior of the entire house we purchased in Shaker Hts. was painted beige, the carpet was beige and the view from the front yard was dirty white.  It was a colorless time those first few months!

However, I met these women as well as other wonderful people and neighbors over the next year, and fell in love with Cleveland.  I had lived down the jokes about the "mistake on the lake" and the Cuyahoga River burning, etc. when my ex got his job offer there, and I moved with a real dread.  But, the city turned out to be full of interesting things to do; culture, beautiful parks and neighborhoods, beaches, and much more.  If only it didn't have the most lengthy and dreary winters in the universe I would say it was perfect.

Peggy, Fern and I bonded and have been friends now for about 35 years.  That is longer than I have been married to one person!  We originally had a "women's group" which was all the post bra-burning rage.  A group of us sat around an evening a month detailing our current issues and problems.  Since most of the group were therapists, we had free counseling to deal with life's ups and downs.  Then we settled into normal girlfriend relationships and have helped each other through every conceivable life event.  In fact, I have often thought a book would be quite juicy in details.  Relationship problems, divorces, births, deaths, and every imaginable thing in between.  I have laughed at how the conversations at our dinner dates have paralleled women's aging issues.  Greying hair, wrinkles, pregnancy, gynecologic issues, etc.  When we started having to whip out reading glasses to see the menus, and fan ourselves through a hot flash I knew it was downhill slide! 

I saw Alex the day she was born and have watched her grow up.  Now she is getting married to a great guy and we have all hopes that she will have a wonderful married life blessed with healthy children and joy and peace.  And, I hope that the young women at the shower who are in her bridal party will always be there for her - to hold her up during hard times, to listen when she needs an ear, to help her analyze her problems and create her own solutions, and to share her joy.  And most importantly, to laugh with her all along the journey she has ahead.

Paper Overload

I have deforested about an acre recently in the amount of paper products I have used responding to the million projects we are involved in.  Voluntarily?  No, not really.  I just finished a 75+ page response to the lawyer who has sued us regarding ADA (Americans for Disabilities Act).  Harry has made our motel more than 100% compliant by doing work not required until 2013, and has done a beautiful job after weeks of non-stop labor.  We want to be compliant but who knew we were not?  An older property has so many issues to fix and the rules and codes (which are Federal and State) are so complex, and difficult to understand, that it was like solving the Rubik's cube blind and one handed.  But, it is done.  And, we fully expect the court to make this lawyer pay for our legal fees, because he is frankly, a douche bag.  Sorry, just couldn't resist saying that.  That expression is so inanely stupid that it is fun to say and for some reason, just fits! 

And, just when I finished, I got a fax with the forms from the electric company to fill out because their power surge last week fried our entire guestroom telephone service.  So this means, estimates, hire someone (Sam!), and file a claim which looks to be pages long.  Perhaps they make the forms so daunting so people will just say "screw it" and toss them in the trash?

Everyone knows how complex just living and dealing with mail, email, forms, documents, bills, warranties, taxes, etc. can be.  Add a business to that and it seems like we will never be ahead.  Harry always has his irons in so many fires and what I didn't realize was that before he had an office with endless file cabinets and a secretary to bark orders to who would file, ignore or burn all of the crap that he collects and I never saw all of it. Just his shirt pocket alone houses enough data and things that he could probably build shelter if we ever get stranded somewhere.  I mean, I find the most odd items around the house.  I thought I would share a couple with you, and if you can guess what they are, I will bake you a pie next time I see you.

Hot in Cleveland

I am not referring to the temperature, or menopausal state, but the name of the match play team I was invited (and happily accepted) to join for a weekend match play golf outing at Nemacolin Resort in the Laurel Highlands of Pennsylvania.  I had traveled to golf events with four of the members in the past.  The three new friends were delightful additions to my golf buddy list.  These are great women, all connected through EWGA (Executive Women's Golf Association).  All smart, competent, successful women who love the game of golf.  Add fun loving to the description and you have one hell of a weekend.

We didn't win the match play event to advance to the finals in California.  The first day's round was called after nine holes due to pouring rain which was a disappointment and altered the possible outcomes.  But, the weekend was a classy event and if you are looking to play golf, learn the rules, learn the game, have the chance to enter and travel to competitive events and make fantastic friends, this league is the best! 

Family Time

I love this photo.  Happy smiles.  Tanned faces.  Damn, we look good!

My sons, Matt and Sam and Matt's wife Megan and their kids, Jack and Ruby all out to eat at Doc Ford's on Sanibel Island.  Order Yucatan shrimp - you will want to lick the bowl.

We had a week crammed full of activity.  Swimming in pools and ocean(s) - Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico.  Snorkeling.  Fishing offshore and flats.  Collecting shells, sea life, snails, lizards and more.  I just released a pet crab this morning.  That was while I was picking up and putting away and sniffling because I miss them already...

Word Puzzle

My father, and a group of his buddies, owned a hunting camp in the Pennsylvania mountains named Camp YoHo (for Youngstown, Ohio where they lived).  My siblings and I have wonderful memories of the camp.  It had one large "great room" with a dining table that must have seated 20+, a huge fireplace, requisite worn out and musty smelling furniture, a kitchen and an upstairs "bunk room" lined with bunk beds and single beds.  I believe it sleep 12.  Try sleeping with 11 other people in various states of snoring, grunting and, according to my children, farting.  Anyway, as a kid, we didn't care one bit.  Actually there were two camps because when the Kinzua dam was built, the government paid the landowners who would be flooded out and a new camp was built on the edge of the Alleghany forest.  So, our memories sort of blend together between the two camps and many weekends and longer were spent hiking, exploring, fishing, water skiing, jumping off "big rock" and generally, just messing around.  There was no TV, and we did not miss it one bit.  There was an old radio and occasionally you could get reception for a baseball game.  The nearby town, within walking distance, was Westline.  I think there may have been a population of 30.  There was a strange odor emanating from the town and we believe it was built on a toxic chemical dump.  I think we imagined that because everyone in town seemed a bit inbred and odd.  Perhaps the odor was a smokehouse, because it always smelled like bacon to me.  The Westline in is still there and I remember going there to drink beer (okay, so we weren't kids - or were we?) and playing Pacman and the walk home to the cabin in that pitch black with the amazing stars overhead - priceless!

We took friends and family with us to the camp.  How can we forget Uncle Homer and Dad jumping from bed to bed trying to kill a bat with a broom while my baby sister, Mary Beth, sleep peacefully in her crib.  Why didn't anyone move her out of there first??  And Uncle Charles bringing home a snapping turtle hanging with jaws clenched around a thick twig for us nieces and nephews to admire.  And to tease and torture us all evening about the wonderful turtle soup he was going to make the next day out of our new pet.  And how the next morning the turtle was missing from its jail and for probably twenty years, no one confessed to the release until cousin Mary finally admitted that she had snuck down during the night to "free" it.  There was the infamous potato soup that was simmering on the stove and when each adult went by the pot, added more seasoning until we sat down to dinner and the soup was practically inedible.  Speaking of the stove - you had to light the pilot.  That adventure took off my former sister-in-laws eyebrows during one mini-explosion.  And, the most exciting addition to the first cabin was a bathroom because prior to that, there was only an outhouse.  My brother Tom and I were recently reminiscing about the bathrooms, which  always seemed to have a thin layer of moisture on every surface and a sign on the door for Bucks and Does.  But the best sign was hanging over the door for you to ponder if you happened to be sitting for any time, and Tom just sent it to me and jogged my mountains memories...

SEVILLE DER DAGO A TOUSIN BUSIS INAROW.
NOMO DEMAIN BUSIS DEMIS TROUX
SUMMIT COUSIN SUMMIT DOUX.


If you cannot figure it out, the translation is:

See Willy, there they go a thousand busses in a row.
No Moe, them ain't busses them is trucks.
Some with cows in, some with ducks.

On "Big Rock" in 2004

Meet a "bug"

This is the Florida spiny lobster.  And right now it is mini-lobster season in the Keys.  That is two days where you can get a jump start on the regular season and  try to catch the critters.  Each licensed person can take six per day.  So, you spend a whole lot of money coming to the Keys from all over the country to hunt "bugs" as they are affectionately called, and it would be much cheaper to go to the fish market and buy them.  But, it must be lots of fun because right now there are dive flags bobbing out of the water everywhere you look with people searching for them. You "tickle" them out of a spot in the coral with a long stick and try to grab them and put them in a mesh bag. Or, do it the way we did by dragging people behind the boat on towlines and when they saw one, they let go and dove down.  Matt speared a bonus grouper that way and the poor fellow was left trying to stay afloat while holding up a large fish overhead while we boated back to get him.  It is not about the bounty, but the hunt.  It does get a bit crazy down here during mini season.  There are always arrests for people taking more than the legal limit.  And of course, boating accidents.  And dive accidents.  But generally the locals stay out of the way and let the tourists in.  Heck, I can go find a lobster on the wall of my canal if I want to.  But that would be like eating my pets!

The first time I was introduced to this delicacy was when my cousin pulled a tail of one out of his bathing suit when we arrived at the dock after a day of fishing and snorkeling.  He hid it there because apparently it wasn't season and he figured the Coast Guard doesn't check trunks.  Of the clothing category.  I could not figure out why he was digging around in his pants!

My grandson was a wee fellow when Harry bought some lobsters from a guy selling them on the roadside for dinner.  Jack watched as Grandpa Harry prepared them for grilling (which is a bit brutal since you pull the tail off and throw the rest in the canal.  We sat down to dinner with the lobster meat prepared and ready to dip into butter and Jack refused to eat.  He kept repeating "no like it bugs."  I was amazed, since he had never heard them called bugs. He had figured the whole thing out - from what was a creepy looking critter in a cooler to the pile of delicacy on his plate.  And he apparently didn't like its looks.  They are kind of creepy!

My Life in July

My Greats and Grands

Culture in a parking lot

My best Oncidium

I selected these photos to represent some of the past month's activities.  I took a trip to Kelley's Island in Lake Erie to hang out with family.  First stop was an Indians game in Cleveland - literally from the airport - to game - to Kelleys the next day.  No visiting with Cleveland friends, sorry!  Matt, Jack, Ruby and I sweated our way through the game and I swear, I spent a million dollars on peanuts, cotton candy, gatorade, icees, beer, hot dogs.  We were dripping, sticky messes in the heat wave that made the Keys look like Iceland.  The weather cooperated on the Island, however, and we had a great week.  Lots of people visiting, commotion, laughs and fun.  Perfect family time.  It is pretty cool how you can entertain yourself on an island with no movie theater, no bank, no drug store, no fast food restaurant, etc.  Lots of boating time.  Lots of kiddie time.  We even did some fossil collecting.

The second picture was taken at a party thrown by our favorite local Thai restaurant for its regulars.  Never, ever, have I seen a party in a parking lot for regular customers.  Great food, drinks, sushi and entertainment.  We love our Num Thai family!  I appreciate the small town life more and more.  On the 4th of July, I hopped on my bike, rode to the main street (there is ONE through 100 miles of Keys and it is a National Scenic Byway now) and watched the parade.  Immediately saw people I knew, laughed at the corny floats - usually with a marine life and patriotic theme - and totally enjoyed myself.

The last picture was taken of a plant I took to my Orchid club meeting last night.  I was bursting with pride when the speaker asked who brought it in for judging and said it was the best example of an Oncidium Sweet Sugar in bloom that he had ever seen.  Oh, boy.  The speaker is my orchid growing idol so I was so excited.  You should see his property.  Mine would fit in his driveway.  I have posted photos of his place before.

Lastly, I have been busy with volunteer work and an email fundraising campaign that was successful.  Now I have piles of items to mail to donors and hope to see our furniture again soon.

Life is good.  Summer in the Keys is turning out to be more comfortable than up north.  Golf game tomorrow.  Work days in there also.  Next up will be a fishing trip when Mr. H-bomb finishes his work on the motel's ADA compliance updating. Hope to post some big mahi next blog!

It's a Small World

I hope my title doesn't start your brain "flashbacking" the lyrics to Disney's Small World theme song.  After visiting that venue about a million times during my children's growing up years, the song would swirl in my head (and make my head swirl like those little puppets) for days after.

My "small world" event happened this past weekend at an EWGA semi-finals golf tournament in Bonita Springs, Fl.  After getting my butt kicked in our practice round by a course that ate up golf balls like they were buttered popcorn, I went to dinner with the two women I had driven over with from my Miami Chapter.

During dinner we were sharing histories and getting to know each other and one of the women, who had grown up in California, said that she used to go to Ohio (where I am from)  to visit relatives in Youngstown, where her father grew up.  Wow, we marveled over the fact that I grew up in Youngstown for a while and the fact that I knew where her grandparents lived and that she knew many places I knew.  Then she commented that they also would visit Bessemer, Pa. all the time.  What??  That is where my father was from!  A little tiny community with a lot of Swedish immigrants.  She asked my father's name and I told her Nord.  She said that was odd, her mother's best friend was a Dorothy Nord who had even been to her house in Miami when her mother was very ill from cancer years ago.  Bingo.  This is my aunt!  She was married to my father's brother.  Well, we were just amazed and discussed all our common memories.  She went to the same Presbyterian Church that my father's family belonged to when she visited (she even recalled Rev. Picklesheimer - who's widow married two of my uncles in sequence making her name Pauline Picklesheimer Nord Nord, much to the niece and nephews merriment), she swam in the same quarry, etc.  She even recalled the house and street her grandmother lived in.   The next day, she said that she had had trouble falling asleep thinking of the coincidences, and I did too!

Jan, my friend, is going to recollect names and I am going to call my remaining living Aunt Betty who, despite being in her 90's, has absolutely phenomenal recall, to see what she remembers of the Benson's from Bessemer. 

We had such a fun weekend.  I have plugged EWGA (which stands for Executive Women's Golf Assn.) before because it is a wonderful organization and a great way to meet bright and interesting women.  And the golf events, leagues and opportunities to play are outstanding.  You want to learn to play golf by the rules? Join this organization.  They are not all perfect, by any means, because competition can bring out an ugly side in people.  But, most are wonderful, and they love to have fun.  At the awards luncheon, after the tournament, the bar at the resort golf course actually ran out of white wine. Because these women love to PARTY!  There was loud whooping, and cheering and friendly inter Chapter teasing,.  The Naples Chapter chanted "drum roll" and a winner from their Chapter had to roll on the floor back to their table with her trophy.  It was a hoot.  And now, I have a new friend who shares a bit of history with me.  Cool!

Miami Contingent

Old Seven Mile Bridge

 

I had a nice surprise today at work when a guest coming in to the office to check out was wearing one of our Friends of Old Seven hats.  He picked it up at the bridge itself where we have a people set up to answer questions, get signatures on our petitions, take donations and sell items for the cause. 

If you haven't seen our new website, please visit www.friendsofoldseven.org.  I worked hard with a design group to create it,  and am proud of the outcome.  We sell a few items there and all the proceeds are going back into the organization.  But, we are desperate for money.  It costs a lot to get the word out.  And, with the economy in the toilet, people are not doling out the monies to charities like they might have in the past.  We are working on different types of fundraisers but need to come up with a substantial amount in order to hire an engineering firm to give us actual repair numbers to present to the County Commissioners in September.

I am talking like $100,000 by Fall!

Think about donating for me.  I have been responsive over the years to so many requests I cannot count.  Now it is my time to ask.  I know it isn't going to cure cancer, or give a sick child a dying request or help someone who is the victim of a natural disaster or political unrest.  But, it will help to save and restore a part of history for hundreds of thousands of people to continue to enjoy each year.  And maybe it will remind them of what people can accomplish.   Just go to the website, and click on the donate button.  Hey, will spending $10, or $20 (or more?) really impact your lifestyle?

Busted

The top photo shows a pool at our rental that is getting a new pool deck.  The bottom picture shows the workers who were supposed to be installing the deck, in the pool.  The workers did not know the renter was inside taking the photos.   Enough said.

Sea Dell Flora

Too Complicated

Thomas Jefferson said, "If the present Congress errs in too much talking, how can it be otherwise in a body to which the people send one hundred and fifty lawyers, whose trade it is to question everything, yield nothing, and talk by the hour? "

This was written in the 1700's and apparently, not much has changed.  Currently, 47% of Congress are lawyers.  Not a problem, until you realize that the legal system isn't exactly working for you but for the pockets of the lawyers.  And who writes these laws??  I guess we can only blame ourselves, because we elect our own Congress.

Not all, of course, are self serving!  We all know wonderfully ethical lawyers who are honest and practice for the right reasons.  I have two in mind, and one of them reads my blog and will know who I am talking about.  So, if you need a wonderful lawyer, contact me and I will give you a referral.

Unfortunately, owning a business throws you endlessly in front of the not-so-ethical types.  We have just been slapped with a lawsuit because, on a particular day in March, we did not have a handicapped accessible room available to a walk-in, who then submitted charges through the Association for Disabled Persons that we do not have a handicapped accessible room.  And, in addition, we did not have steps to our pool, have a picnic table for him to sit at, nor did we have a handicapped parking space marked.

GUILTY YOUR HONOR... of one thing.  Our driveway is not marked for anyone who is handicapped because people park in front of their rooms and we have no markings on our driveway for anyone.  We are equal opportunity "parkers" at the Sea Dell.  We are a little Mom and Pop place so trying to comply with all local, state and federal regulations is a bit overwhelming.  The one room we have that is handicapped equipped was already booked and rented.  In fact, we had NO rooms the date the guest attempted to procure a room.  We do have access to our pool via a second entrance that does not require steps and we do have round picnic tables available for a person in a wheelchair.  All photos submitted with the suit were hijacked from web sites and only portrayed aspects of the property that were not in compliance - for example, the steps to the pool and no photo of the other entrance that is pool level.
As for the parking.  Well, we will get on that because if we are supposed to have it, we will and that is our oversight.  But why not inform you of your infraction with a time limit to correct it?  I didn't even know our size property had to have a designated spot.  Oh, wait, giving you an opportunity to correct your infraction would mean another lawyer doesn't get to sue you.

What is the problem, is that to represent ourselves against this claim will cost, according to one of the several attorneys who have sent us letters offering assistance, about $20,000.

So, do I think the law firm representing this person who was denied a room is doing this out of the goodness of their heart?  Oh sure.  I think this is another example of ambulance chasing.  In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if persons who reported the property didn't receive some sort of kick back. 

We have had many, many handicapped guests stay with us.  We have allowed service dogs because we have to by law even though several times I knew that the dog owner had purchased the service dog's identification coat at Petsmart and they were just a pet coming on vacation.  We routinely offer rooms for every conceivable charity fundraiser around.  We try to be good citizens of the community and our reviews show how favorably former guests think of us and our property.

So why, when you try to do the right thing, does it always feel like there is some law firm named Bill, Padding & Howe just waiting to send you that letter that will kick your teeth in. 

Doldrums

I looked up the word doldrums and Wikipedia presented lines from the poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge's Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner:

All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

I really understand this now, living in a sub-tropical climate.  Nine months of the year, the weather is glorious with bright blue skies and perfect temperatures.  But, after Memorial Day, we receive our version of my old Cleveland winter where being outside is less pleasant than inside.  Only difference; you don't get depressed!  But, it is hot, and humid, and something happens to your motivation.  You move slower.  It is hard to get into a project.  You want to nap in the afternoon.  I totally understand the concept of siesta.  And why people call it "Island Time."  As usual, there are reasons behind the stereotypes.

Driving to work yesterday, I was enthralled with the flat calm waters of the windless day that met the sky in a seamless blend with no beginning or end to the horizon.  The clear waters of many shades of blue and green change daily and never cease to amaze us.  And, by the end of the day on the drive back home, the large cumulus clouds had built, promising either a tropical shower or a glorious sunset. 

Doldrums are hard for me.  I feel guilt over any lethargy.  I have to force myself into the luxury of plopping down in a chair on the porch overlooking the canal with a book.  And, two books in one week later, I managed to begin the decline into laziness.  I believe I will now go wallow in slothfulness and watch a TV taped Mad Men show in the late afternoon while the chainsaws drone on and on outside as our coconut palms are stripped of there fruit in preparation of hurricane season.

Have I gone mad turning the TV on in daylight? 

Lucky Mom

Captain Matt came down for a long weekend to fish with his friends, Johnny and Rune, from Norway.  Matt captained them about six years ago, when he was working as a fishing guide, and they have returned twice to go out with him.  My cousin, John Mitchell, came down from Boca Raton for the day and joined us.

It was one of those perfect days on the water.  Flat calm, deep blue water, gorgeous skies and interesting things happening everywhere.  I still find something new every time I go out into the Gulf.  This trip was no exception.  This year was a new first - pods of Pilot Whales.  Not one, but many.  They were shyer and much smaller than the Sperm Whales we saw last year, but nonetheless, a fantastic sight.  But one dumb cluck went after my favorite lure that was trolling behind the boat and chomped it off.  My cousin imagines he is the punk of the group with a new piercing hanging from his lip (which will quickly rust away).  I hope he is enjoying my $10 Billy Bait mini-turbo slammer.

Later, a simple piece of plastic floating by itself in the Gulf Stream produced a school of Mahi-Mahi.  They hang out under the debris eating the little bait fish that work on the seaweed.  One little piece of flotsam is all that is needed.  I have caught many fish under one thin reed of bamboo.  It just needs a little time in the water to get a little bit of seaweed on it.  It is a hierarchy of the food chain right before your eyes.  We trolled past it and BAM, we hooked up.  Leaving that fish on the line brings the rest of the school toward the boat and then we have fun.  We cast chunks of bait out on light tackle and catch our dinner.  The fish are jumping, the lines are getting crossed and we are all whooping and hollering.  Such fun and chaos.  When we have kept enough bigger fish to eat, the rest are thanked and let go.  And when the action is over, the boat is a mess, we are a mess and high fives all around.

We then saw a school of small Bonita busting the surface of the water and jumping about.  We hustled over to the area, imagining a school of tuna underneath chasing the little Bonita about. Instead of catching any tuna, we caught one of the little Bonita and John had a brilliant idea to leave it out as bait.  We hung around for 5 or ten minutes with chum floating from our chum bag and watched the school of Bonita under the boat. Amazing to see so far down into the clear water.  Suddenly, another BAM and a sailfish was leaping and tail walking and the battle was on.  After bringing the fish to the boat, Capt. Matt and Johnny hoisted it up for a very quick photo and then back into the water to be carefully re-oxygenated, and released to enjoy feasting on the Bonita. 

Later today I will be going out to try for a Tarpon under a bridge.  We caught the bait right out in our canal last night.  I live in a magical place.  Wish me a lucky Mother's Day!

 Hanging on to my boy!

 Johnny, Capt. Matt, Rune and John

 Wonderful fresh fish for dinner.  Thank you bountiful sea and Happy Mother's Day to you, Mother Nature.  I thank you every day!

Job Perks

I have only one thing to thank the TSA for - beer!  Because guests cannot take it home, so they leave it in their refrigerators, and then it goes to my designated fishing refrigerator in our Banana Room apartment.  And from there, it goes in the cooler and out to sea, with me, and whoever else is accompanying me.  And next week, that will be my "bestest" fishing buddy, Matthew Douglas Urich.  Well, maybe he is my second best since his son, and my grandson, Jack, is my favorite.  Look out Tarpon, Bonefish, Redfish, Mahi-Mahi, Wahoo and whatever else we encounter.  Here we come!

Can I Borrow a Cup of Tchotchke?

I walked past this house today and thought I would share this new style of landscaping.  If you click on the photo, you can get the whole effect.   I cannot help wondering what will happen if we receive a hurricane warning.  To keep the floral look year round, some of the plants are plastic.  You have to admit, it is creative!

Ole'

I have a new favorite salad recipe, thank you very much Rachel Ray.  This black bean salad is so healthy, easy and so delicious that I had to share:

1 can black beans (I use Goya) - drained and rinsed
2 c. frozen corn kernels
1/2 red onion, chopped (I usually avoid them but SO good in this)
1 small red pepper, chopped
juice of 1 lime
2 t. hot sauce
1 and 1/2 t. cumin (I may have used a tad more)
2 T. olive oil
salt and pepper

That's it.  Better after it sits a while.  Oh yah. 

Newest Motel Scam

When we bought the Sea Dell, we invested a lot of time and money in procuring local art, and having it framed to suit the tropical decor in the rooms. It looks nice and guests do like it.

The other day, my manager called to report that one of the prints in one of the rooms, was missing. Cleverly, the guest bought a cheap framed print, probably at the local Kmart, and hung it in the spot. It worked. We didn't notice and don't know when exactly the theft took place. Even though it had to have been in the last week or so, since the room is occupied most nights, we have no idea who to put the blame on. Although, I have my suspicions.

This really irks me. Not so much for the value, which of course, is a factor. But mainly for the disappointment I always feel when someone steals. It reminds me of a former employee that we had do maintenance work who ended every goodbye with "Have a Blessed Day." And he is now in jail for harboring and molesting a 12 year old female runaway. Where was his religious upbringing when he was breaking the laws of man and God? Is this chalked up to human nature? I remember a quote by Katherine Hepburn, portraying a missionary in the movie The African Queen when she said "Nature, Mr. Allnut, is what we are put in this world to rise above."

We Are Family

(from left, Kaye, Tom Steele, cousin Bob Darrah, Cousin Nancy Steele, me, brother Tom and H-Bomb)

This past week, while my brother Tom Nord was visiting, we drove to Venice, Florida on "the other coast" to see cousins Bob and Nancy, and their significant others. Bob and Nancy are the children of our mom's twin - Betty Grey Darrah. The Greys were Welsh, red-haired and dramatic. The off spring are loud, fun and a close knit group. But, no fabulous dark red hair yet. One of Nancy's grand kids has light red but that is it. I imagine someday that a confluence of genetic material will produce an Auburn red haired baby to some one's surprise and they will question where that came from! Hopefully it will be half of twins which have not shown up either.

Nancy and Bob grew up in Martins Ferry, Ohio where our mother was born. The story my mother always told me was that the twins were born at home, and that she arrived first and was so scrawny they set her aside to "save the other one." But if you know my family, you know that the stories get larger and more dramatic as time goes on. As twins, they did everything together and when they first entered school, their dresses were pinned together so they would not get separated and lost on the way.

The real story I want to tell is not of the family, but of a house that looms large in my memory from childhood. Nancy and Bob grew up in "the house on 5th Street" as it is still referred to today, in downtown Martins Ferry. The town sits on the Ohio River across from Wheeling, W. Va. and is the oldest settlement in Ohio. My uncles worked in the steel mills that line the river. And it held the most amazing fascination to me and my siblings. Probably because we grew up in Kirkmere, Ohio, which was a post WWII development where houses sprang up faster than chicken pox and everything was new - including both our elementary and Jr. High schools. We lived in 1950's suburbia, so visiting Martins Ferry and the "house on 5th Street" was exotic to us.

The house was half of a very large duplex and their half had originally been a Doctor's office with patient rooms lining the second floor and the third floor (attic) had been an infirmary. The ceilings were extremely high, and there was a front wide staircase and a narrow twisting back staircase. The front porch faced the street and there was a porch swing and a glider and much time was spent sitting and swinging and playing and visiting with people that ambled by on their way to downtown, which was minutes away. I can still remember funny details of that house - like the bronzed baby shoes sitting on a front parlor table, my cousin Bob's cowboy wallpaper in his room (was it really there until he graduated?), or the large deep bathtub with Cameo soap that I can still smell in my mind.

Because of its size, the house was a bit scary also. The basement had a coal furnace in a small room on one end and in my childhood mind that room was a dark dungeon with a fire eating dragon at one end. The other end had large wooden doors leading to "the tunnel" which led to the garage on an alley and where the coal was moved by wheel barrel to the house. I was NOT allowed in the tunnel, which made it even more intriguing. I imagined it a dark, dangerous place. My cousin Bob said there was rumor of it being part of the Underground Railroad. I like to think that is true, and that runaway slaves were snuck in and out somehow, although I am not sure where they would end up - hiding in the basement? I once sat in the easy chair that faced the little TV in the room used as a living room and watched a segment of the Twilight Zone that about scared me into insanity. I was alone at the house, facing the door to that basement with the creepy back, dark, narrow stairway to my right absolutely rigid with fear and unable to get up and turn the dumb show off. I was never so happy to see my Aunt as when she returned.

Right down the street from the house was the Tidbit - a little store that probably sold drugstore type items but all I remember was the penny candy counter. And you could get a lot of candy into one of those little paper bags for not much money! People in Martins Ferry seemed larger than life. People like Mary Baton, the next door neighbor who had suffered from polio and was crippled and drove a scooter and raised chinchillas in her bedroom, and Flossie who lived there also who had wild white hair, and a big gap in her front teeth and was loud. Uncle Homer (Betty's husband) was a wonderful man, but a bit of a character himself - and had run for Mayor. He reminds me of Harry, with a bit of disregard for rules, and they got along famously. Cousin Nancy reminisced about how he took his family and my sister to Washington, DC and parked in the Senator's parking space (hey, the guy was from Ohio). He used to go to have a beer after work which was served in some one's living room converted to a bar and when I asked him where he was going, he would say he had to see a man about a horse. He loved Martins Ferry and loved to take visitors on the tour which included the cemetery with views of the river, and where Lou Groza was born. We loved Aunt Betty and Uncle Homer, like a second set of parents and they treated us royally.

All of Mom's family lived in Martins Ferry or nearby in Cadiz. No holiday went by without a huge gathering. Summers meant stays in "the house on 5th Street." Eventually my aunt and uncle moved from town and built a new home on a hill overlooking the river valley. We mourned that old house! But the gatherings continued. Many of the cousins still vacation together joining up at the Jersey Shore. Holidays are still spent together with a few who have moved away missing from the action, but not far in spirit. And, no family celebration, be it wedding or Sam's Bar Mitzvah is complete without the band or DJ spinning "We Are Family" by Sister Sledge accompanied by a hand holding circle of cousins dancing their socks off. One Uncle never quite understood us talking about Sister Sledge and thought that she was the organist at the Wheeling Arena.

My Babies

These are two beauties that I have not posted before. A Brassocattleya and a Cattleya. The purple and green hybrid, Hippodemia, is very fragrant and what a fun face! Look at those roots. It wants to find a tree and climb. The orange Catt in the background, Siam Jade, is practically crawling out of it's basket and has a few fern hitchhikers growing in along with it. I entered them in my Orchid Club meeting last night and won two blue ribbons. I was so proud - because when I went to the Cleveland Orchid Society meetings I never had the nerve to bring a plant. I couldn't compete with greenhouse owners while I was trying to force a single bloom under lights in my basement in a Cleveland winter. But here - oh, so gratifying. Please come and see my collection and I may send you home with a plant!

Snowbirds

The Keys are hopping with activity lately. It is "season" and that means increased rates and occupancy at motel (yay!) and increased road traffic (boo!). It doesn't help that the ONLY remaining argument that H-bomb and I have after all of these years is over his driving. Well, I guess I cannot call it an argument when I do all the fussing and he just listens - while continuing to drive in his usual aggressive manner. I have never ridden with anyone who gets "flipped off", yelled at, and even have car drivers slam on their brakes in front of him in 55 MPH zones as much as him. In fact, I don't recall this happening with anyone else! I have actually witnessed on two separate occasions people stop their cars and get out to approach and yell at him. Whew. Yet somehow I have never been in any type of accident while he was driving. I suspect he is like a cartoon character, cruising along while happily chatting, weaving in and out of traffic, oblivious to cars crashing into each other in his wake.

Winter also brings many regular guests back to the hotel as well as new friends from all over the world. I have received wine and candy from regulars just this past week. I needed the wine after having to call police today for a "welfare" check on a young guest who deteriorated over the past week into what I would diagnose as a manic episode of bi-polar illness. During her stay here she acquired a puppy which meant she had to leave our property but she could not seem to get out of the room. She began to obsess over the keys to her room (#9) as being for the wrong room (#6) and no rational discussion of how the printing on the keys showed which direction to read the number would convince her otherwise. She kept attempting to open the room of the guests in #6 with her keys to prove her point. She is a lovely, intelligent young woman with a serious illness. The red flags went up for me early in her stay when she unfolded the most amazing and brilliantly concocted story of how she is actually in line for the British throne. It was an amazing tale full of details and convincing facts based on her belief that her grandmother served in WWII as a physician and fell in love with the father of Princess Diana and that actually Diana was her grandmother's love child - taken away from her by the evil Queen mother.

But, the harmless delusions began to go dark when she started accusing staff of stealing from her, sneaking into her room to put pornography on her laptop, and she began to use towels as backdrops for art with permanent markers. And then, the coup de grâce - the deliberate plot by staff to give her the wrong room keys. I tried to discuss medication history with her but that ended up with her turning on me also. So now I am the recipient of emails and photos of the evil room #9 keys. She finally moved to a nearby property who accepts pets and I will worry about her and hope that the police will keep an eye on her because she is a victim waiting to happen. We have given the next property a heads up.

Friends of Old Seven Kick-Off

I had a blast last weekend selling t-shirts at the Friends of Old Seven Kick-Off. It was a spectacularly beautiful sunny day, with a gentle breeze blowing off the water that surrounded the venue. We had the event at a restaurant with views of the bridge and both the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. With a tiki bar, DJ playing fun dance music (I felt like I was at a Bar Mitzvah in Cleveland when I heard YMCA by the Village People), food, a silent auction and poignant stories being told about the bridge, it was such a great time. We got our message out there and started our campaign with a bang raising money. My team of volunteers was outstanding and a fun group. We worked hard for over 6 hours. Missing is Sue Broker, my photographer. Thanks group! You are awesome!

Kids and Their Kids

I packed visits to both Ohio and New Mexico in one week to see five of our six grandchildren. First stop was to see Jack and Ruby for a pre-birthday boy visit. I cannot believe that Jack has turned seven. Now I sit and watch him conquer mysterious worlds on his Nintendo Wii instead of playing Thomas trains with him. And he has been reading for two years, although he still enjoys being read to. He is as cuddly as ever, fortunately. And just as loving. Ruby is an entertainment machine. Upon my arrival and after great whoops and hugs, she ran to put on her Darth Vader costume. After dinner we had a toy store shopping trip and her selection was a new Darth Vader backpack for preschool. The visit included an indoor water park with cousin Carmen (age one) and her family, and Grandma. Jack and Ruby take my breath away with there fearlessness on the big slides. A lively dinner with Megan's family concluded the visit. Just perfect.

One day at home and then on to see Jenavieve and Anastasia in Albuquerque. Grandson Daniel was in the States from Brazil and met us there. He had been in Disney World for spring break with his girlfriend's family. We had not seen him in two years. He is in architecture school in Rio and such a sweet, kind young man. His English is very good - much better than our Portuguese. The girls, ages 3 and almost 2, warmed up to us after a bit of time and we had a great time visiting the Children's Museum and a Children's play venue. We even got a babysitter and had a grown-ups dinner out. Jenavieve is a little peanut who hates to sit still and eat. I got her to eat a piece of broccoli - in and out - and she was so kind as to share it on my plate after she tried it. She is sweet and speaks in a very quiet voice. Ana was a little more shy and very "mommy" oriented at this point in time. She has fantastic fine motor skills and is amazingly focused on tasks. I came home and was exhausted. I just cannot jump in bouncy houses like I used to...

Open for Interpretation

POOL

FREE

INTERNET

The above words were posted on the marquis that is under our motel sign this past summer. If you read that, would you believe that the pool was free, or the Internet? Because, we had a family that kept showing up in the pool and we assumed they were guests. Until one of the kids thanked our manager for providing a free pool for the residents of the city to use.

Needless to say, we changed the wording.