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!

I Fought the Law...

I wrote in February about a car accident that I had in January, and that I was ticketed for, despite having a witness who saw the accident and verified my total innocence. The witness had to get to work and left his contact info with me. The police officer that arrived after the accident assured Harry and myself that he would interview the witness. He did not. Harry had to later go to the officer's superior, who did later interview the witness and, according to the witness, told the witness that he was not believed and that if he went to court to testify, they would make a fool of him on the stand.

I hired a lawyer and fought the ticket. It was dismissed today on the grounds that the police officer cannot state what happened in an accident if he wasn't there. The police officer did not even show up in court.

I could go on and on about the injustices here, but there is no way to undo them. The damage to my car was over $12,000. It was my decision whether to junk it or repair since it was so badly damaged. The auto body shop determined that I had been rear-ended on the left rear corner and then the left side was scraped off as the truck and trailer zoomed past me. At least that driver had the presence of mind not to let me take the whole impact - but he was probably saving his own butt. Our insurance would have gone up over $2500/year if I had not fought the ticket. I had to pay a lawyer an obscene amount of money to defend me against something I did not do. All because a police officer did not do his job. He told Harry he knew what happened because he had taken a class and learned to read skid marks. I ran into the EMS person who came first to the accident in a store a few months ago and was told that the police officer was new on the job - had only worked a couple of months.

I went to meet the witness today for the first time and to thank him for his incredible persistence in helping me out. Because the insurance companies are in arbitration over this, he has been contacted four times, since being hassled by the police. He is a good guy and a good citizen, and I will now be a regular in the restaurant he where he works.

I feel satisfied and can put this to rest. Being a victim makes a person feel very small. But, standing up for yourself really changes that. I remember my Jr. High school band teacher, Mr. Horvath. To this day I still cringe inside when I remember how he used his power over the few girls in the band to tease and use them for laughs among a large majority of boys. At such an awkward age it is easy to be teased by someone for their own gain in the eyes of others. I really hated him. And one day, I blew. I stood up and talked back to him. I got sent to the principal's office, and nothing really happened to me other than feeling even more uncomfortable in the band room for the next class. But, he never used me again to gain laughs.

Stupor

I have been in an unproductive, yet wonderfully enjoyable, state of stupor. I have a routine - every couple days or so, get myself settled in my favorite "sports watching" recliner, beverage at hand, and watch the NBA games. First I was glued to the Heat v Celtics, then the Bulls and now the Mavericks. I am amazed at how much I want the Heat to fail! I now totally understand my son Matt's feelings about OSU v Michigan, or the Cleveland Browns v Pittsburgh or Baltimore. I just never got that sense of distaste for another sports team before now. Secretly, I like Dwyane Wade, and think he is a phenomenally talented guy who also comes across kind of classy. He admitted the Heat was a little too full of themselves when they hosted the Big Three extravaganza down here last summer. But nonetheless, I decided then and there I couldn't be a Miami fan, ever. I rooted for the Reds when I lived in Cincinnati. But Cleveland stole my heart with its endless loser angst and I will remain loyal, no matter where I call home for tax purposes.

The other wonderfully indulgent treat I have given myself is getting back into reading. I have the time during the summer, when the golf leagues down here end until fall. My non-work days were filled with trips to the mainland the past seven months to indulge my passion. My handicap dropped 7 points, but the summer lull will probably mean that when I start back again, I will be rusty and have to battle my demons again. I recently started "East of Eden" by John Steinbeck on recommendation of my daughter-in-law's mother and sister - and they were right! I don't know how I missed this American classic, but it is a rich and enjoyable read. I love the book itself - from the little library down here - and it looks like it was published when the book first came out in 1952. It is a funky patterned green hardback, the copyright page is missing, and others are taped together with Scotch tape that has long ago turned brown. The yellowing paper smells like an old book. I love it, and thinking about how many other people read and enjoyed it.

I will enjoy this time to indulge myself. I have other projects on the coffee table to complete also. Hats to crochet for grandgirls (first attempt turned out terrible so they might not happen), and learning Dreamweaver CS3 so that I can redo the business website. Every time I pick up that book, I get drowsy. Cascading style sheets anyone? My nursing school chemistry classes were easier. But soon the lull will end, because Matt, Megan, Jack and Ruby are coming next week. And I cannot wait for the action to begin! Down time is great, but living in the Keys means the "Keys Disease" lurks around every corner. And that is permanent stupor!

Memorial Day

I received the following email from a friend who has served as President of the Board of Hospice of the Western Reserve (Cleveland, Ohio), and who continues to be very involved in the organization, including serving on the Board. I thought his reflections were worth sharing.

"At 4:00 PM this afternoon, Hospice of the Western Reserve had a “pinning” ceremony at the David A Simpson Hospice House.

The pinning is a part of a Natonal initiative called Peaceful and Proud.

Oscar, a Tuskegee Airman, was given a hospice pin in recognition of his service to his country.

Oscar’s wife is a patient and she was too ill to come to the ceremony, but his children and grandchildren were there.

Oscar was first a Marine, but his feet got flat when he had to carry a shot down pilot through a battle.

He did not know until later that the pilot had been his high school physics teacher.

Since he could no longer be a Marine, he transferred to the Aircorp.

He said his group of fighters, “never lost a bomber.”

He flew 20,000 hours and twice flew across Russia undetected.

The ceremony started a few years ago when Hospice, as well as others, discovered that the WWII vets were beginning to tell their stories as they reached their death beds.

1000 WWII vets are now dying every day.

The pinning is a simple ceremony to express our thanks.

At a ceremony at Parmatown two years ago, several vets were being recognized.

A man was anxiously pacing in the background and as the ceremony was concluding, he came up with a little chip on his shoulder and said that it is “too bad the ceremony is only for WWII vets.”

He continued, “a lot of good people died in Vietnam and all the vets that returned got was yelled and spit at.”

The Hospice people immediately told him the program was for all service people of every branch and every conflict.

They stayed and presented this man with a pin, a speech of thanks and the crowd of watchers continued to grow as he stood there with tears streaming down his cheeks.

He received an extended ovation.

He told the presenters that this was the first thanks he had received, after 40 years."

Guinness and His Mini-Me

I looked down at my dog, sleeping at my feet while I watched the Heat/Celtics game, (sigh), and had to laugh. He was sleeping on the golf club cover my friend Fern had given me because it resembled Guinness.

Guinness, our Wheaten Terrier, is going to be 13 years old next month. I have been observing his aging process with great interest, and of course, sadness. The evening walks are very short now and I no longer have a companion to drag me around the neighborhood. He can no longer hop into the car, but must instead be lifted up and placed. Getting out is becoming equally difficult and sometimes, in his haste, he ends up tumbling out. I am sure it hurts. He spends most of his time snoozing. Getting up and laying down seem to be done with forethought and his joints are obviously stiff. He cannot lift his leg very high so he pees on himself and has to be washed off like a baby.

Because he has developed a seizure disorder, he is on Phenobarbital 24/7. In fact, I am convinced he is an addict as he seems to know when the doses are due and gets quite excited for his next fix. At first, he was so loopy he could hardly walk straight but he seems to be on a mellow high now. I believe that he also has the aging disorder, "sundowners", that occurs with senile dementia in humans because when it gets dark, he gets restless and begins a circular pace around the coffee table until I sit by him and he settles. My brother does a great imitation of the lower jaw tremor that Guinness has developed, and which becomes very pronounced near food or anything else he considers exciting. His little bottom teeth jut out and shiver. I just hope we don't have a hurricane this fall because I will have to wrap his mouth with duct tape to prevent serious injury.

Food itself has become a real dilemma. Guinness seems to be starved all of the time, yet his weight is the same and there are no abnormalities in his blood work that would indicate any underlying problem. He has reverted to being a bad puppy and gets into the trash, licks the suntan lotion off of my legs, and eats the fish food off of the surface of the pond when Harry feeds the goldfish. I worry a fish will go along also in his intensity. He has almost been knocked unconscious by the dishwasher and refrigerator doors because the second they are open, he is half inside looking for any errant morsel and they can be shut before we realize where he is. My kitchen floor gets a complete wash frequently, and not by me. I have to wash it after he does.

Guinness's need to be close has increased to the point that I now have three legs and seem to be stumbling over the extra one quite often. I just hope I am not at the top of the stairs during one of these tripping episodes. Guinness was always a slut for attention, but fortunately now he is not jumping up, just living under us. He is a little more civilized, finally.

We got Guinness from a breeder in Nebraska and he was flown in a crate to us. I have no guilt that I did not "rescue" a dog. I knew what I wanted, Sam viewed the videotape of the litter and picked the runt. His breed is frisky, eternally puppy like, and shed free. I acted offended for years when the kids implied that he was dumb, but secretly I knew his charms did not lay in his intellect, but in his ability to make me laugh. He would tear through our Cleveland house so fast that he could not stop on the hardwood floors and almost knocked himself unconscious. When he jumped the invisible fence and ran away from home years ago (dogs will not cross back over them), and was missing for three days, I was so upset and riddled with guilt that I had forgotten to put his collar back on after a bath. I posted fliers, ran an ad and lo and behold, I saw an ad in the paper for a found "poodle". Wrong breed but right dog. A call verified that he had been picked up near my home on our normal walking route by a greyhound rescue person. Guinness spent three days pampered in a kennel surrounded by greyhounds. I will never forget that when I picked him up and he was spinning and jumping in excitement, all of the other dogs in the kennel (greyhounds) were calmly lying about looking at me like they were saying "thank god you have come to get this pest out of here." He never had a calm bone in his body until this past year or so.

Guinness was also "skunked" numerous times in our old neighborhood. Not one to learn the first time! (The kids were right). I would be in bed with the screens open to the cool night air and suddenly smell the signs. Dreading the results, I would open the front door and try to grab him before he could run in the house and all around every room as we chased him in the middle of the night to get him in the shower for a treatment. The house would smell for days.

Guinness may be needier now. And, he may be "taking" more than he is "giving." But all I have to do is look down and see him with his "mini-me" plopped on his head, and I laugh, and it is worthwhile.

What's In A Name

This particular orchid is called Psychopsis. I think if you look closely at it, you will understand why. In the garden, it grows at the top of a tall stalk and seems to quiver and shake in the wind, as though it has its own little anxiety disorder.

This encyclia cochleata is commonly known as the "cockleshell" orchid. It looks like a clam shell with legs.

This one is an encyclia Renee Marquesa, but I call it Jimmy Durante. It is one of my favorites. Look at that proboscis looking labellum. I wonder what exotic looking insect is attracted to it somewhere in the wild.

The name of this orchid has no bearing on its looks. I think it is named "Everglades", but what fascinates me about this one is not only is it over 5 feet tall, but also that the flowers are perfectly aligned on each stalk on both the front and back. You can view it from either side. Perhaps it should be called the mirror orchid. I just love it's yearly display which lasts for perhaps a month.