Pardon me, Sir, But Your....

Excuse me, but your 'apostrophe' is showing.
Oops! How do you confront someone who glaringly, has
something undone--like a crucial button or zipper--
or has a pair of windows-to-the-world shorts on?

Recently I was walking into my favorite bookstore
café in Naples and was suddenly confronted by an
unfortunate display of manly 'goods'…who doesn’t like
hanging out in a cozy café…?

Now, I have nothing against the 'boys' and their
sidekick. They’re perfectly fine if they’re well
behaved--but they have their place--and should
stay there, not wandering around for some fresh air…

If Chief Spread-Eagle had been Fabio or Denzel
I wouldn’t have minded too much--for a little while.
Anyway, the café was beginning to buzz a bit as a couple
more people walked in and took notice of the 'sideshow'.

I suggested to my two bookstore friends, that one of
them should nudge the hulking man awake, and tell
him to close his gap.
Nothing doing. Big chickens..

By now, the female employees were very aware
of the predicament, but were hesitant to approach,
the man, hoping that he might wake up soon.

The sleeping exhibitionist finally was aroused from
his nap, after one of my friends tossed a napkin ball
at the man’s chest, hoping to wake him.

He looked over at my friends, and my friend
pointed down past the man's equator…
After a few adjustments, the spectacle was over.
He hasn’t been seen since…

Sweet Little Bird...

Many of my neighbors walk small, fluffy dogs
tethered at the end of a long leash.
We’ve always had a bird.

For readers who don’t know, we have
a cute lovebird, Daisy, who is allowed
to flit about the screened-in lanai.

She’s adventurous and a little sneaky:
Daisy flew from Jen’s shoulder awhile back,
outside to the woods.

Flying to the highest pine tree branch,
she baked under the Florida sun for at least
3 hours before deciding to fly back to Jen.

Her little escapade injured an area under
the wing at the time, and a trip to the vet
was her next adventure.

Since Daisy’s flight, things actually were
not going well--the little cut in the crease under
her wing got wider and deeper.

The drive to the avian vet yesterday was an
eye-opener: I’d never seen so many flashy and
expensive cars drive by Jen’s ‘capsule’--what
she calls her kayak-hauling Mazda Tribute.

We both noticed how many younger people
were driving those shiny Ferraris and Lambros.
She’s driven her car almost to exhaustion,
some 100,00 miles, zigzagging like a patchwork
quilt across, up and down the entire state.
I think she’s seen every alligator and iguana, too.

Finally arriving, we hoisted Daisy’s condo-style
cage from the backseat, and entered All
Creatures Animal Hospital. After a few minutes
of listening to Daisy’s frantic chirping, we left.
Daisy requires stitches to close the muscle-exposing
gash under her wing.

This morning, we dropped Daisy off at the vet;
she's home now, bandaged and is wearing a
transparent cone, which she hates.
Little 'tipsy' has fallen asleep, cuddled up in my hand..

The Highway of Everyday...

Coming back from the Publix market to the car,
some inconsiderate shopper left their shopping
cart smack against the driver side door.
There oughta be a law…

You have to be sixteen to drive, and I think
operators of shopping carts should be forty--
but wait, it was probably a forty-something
that so kindly dumped the cart by the side door.

Parking lots are dangerous.
They’re a veritable battle ground of squeeze-bys,
zippers and slow pokers.

The squeeze-bys see that I’m already 80% pulled
out from my space. Then some SUV behemoth
or a looming, jacked up truck, just barely clears
the back end of my car. Maybe the toadstool car,
the Smart Car, can get away with doing that…

Then you have the zippers: Cars that fly around
the corners of the lot aisles like locusts, just as
I’m pulling out--and the driver swarms around me,
honking! I feel like shoving a banana up their tailpipe…

The slow pokers are those who think they’re driving
in a 1-mile-an-hour zone, or on some desolate
road in the middle of nowhere. Some of these drivers
are yakking on cell phones, while others just plod along …

I’ve seen gopher tortoises crossing the street faster
than these drivers drive! Understandable if the lot is
crowded, but once these drivers leave the lot for
the streets, their car barely hiccups along at 20 mph,
which can be a dangerous thing.

I know what you’re thinking--when I’m 80, I’ll
be one“them”, scooting along the Geriatric Highway.
I’ll wear my little pink hat, have rosy cheeks, and be
taking Mahjong lessons...you're right!
Bam me…

By the time I drive the 2 miles back home, I’m ready
for a cup of tea. ..and maybe, a Twilight Zone episode...

Pencil This...

I’m trying to find a pencil.
Sometimes, you just need one.
The house is full of everything else,
electronic and otherwise, but where’s
a dang pencil when you want one?

I find two in a drawer, unsharpened
or broken off. Tom’s so good at
pruning, how’d he miss these?

I put one in the electric pencil
sharpener, and the whirling begins--
honing what I think is a nice sharp point.

As it’s sharpening, the pencil is
slowly downshifting.
I remove the pencil--what’s left of it.
I decide I’d get better mileage out
of an eyebrow pencil.

An 9” pencil has become a stub with
a very nice eraser head.
It has to be a conspiracy to get the consumer
to buy more pencils.

‘Stubby’ fits into a very small section of my purse.
I guess you can’t buy a sharpener for
$5.00 and expect miracles…

Roads Less Traveled

There are still areas of Naples that I’m
not that familiar with. You can tell I really get around!
Forget maps...they're barely readable.

I was driving my friend to some of his doctor
appointments recently.
He’d say,”You don’t know where that street is, yet?”
Ha-ha.
He’d laugh, and tell me turn-by-turn how to get to the destination.

'Mark' knows shortcuts. It's lucky we didn't take one--
a huge banyan tree branch had snapped off and would
have crushed us and the car.

Men like to say they’ve only made a wrong turn…sure.
Tom is great at orienting himself while driving,
but when it comes to navigating the cyberspace highway,
watch out!

Every so often, a cry for help from the computer
room filters across the hallway.
“Nan, can you come here?”
My anxiety level rises...

Before I get to the room I’m thinking what is it, now?
BSOD? PC freeze?
Alas,Tom wants to send an email, which he's forgotten
how to do.
Hark! "You have to enter his @ address, not the web one..."
I added the info to an already existing PC info card for Tom.

A man’s brain is definitely structured a certain way.
There’s only so much room for the trivial things and details
that we gals are so good at knowing and remembering.

It’s a good thing that women have the babies,
since the guys would wonder where the
"How To" manual was...

Animal Behavior...

What kind of a Hello person are you?
When friends meet, are you swallowed up in hugs,
or weak hand shakes?
About everyone I know are huggers, and often,
cheek kissers.
Heck, I don't mind...I'll take whatever I can get!
There's a limit to kissing, especially since there may
be food still hanging from the corner of one's mouth--yarg...

We had an old neighbor who really liked hugging
me so hard, the air escaped my lungs--and I
thought orangutans were huggers...

Not only was he a hugger, but a Guinness Book
hugger of at least 30 seconds.
I couldn't have broken away if I wanted to.
He had a real gleam in his eye...
Finally, I had to break down and tell him to bug off,
this flower is off limits!
Thankfully, he's recently moved.

Tom isn't a hugger. He leaves that up to me,
when people meet up. That's okay.
Sometimes a "How's it going?" is good enough--
though I don't want to really hear that so-and-so's
goiter is acting up...whatever.

There are certain people who deserve a
hug and a kiss--like the FPL guy who finally
turns the power back on days after a hurricane,
getting the AC up and running again...ahhh.
Kiss...

Ain't She Sweet...

I don't have a dog; my family used
to years ago. I'm more of a bird gal.
Birds are much easier to care for.
Our lovebird , Daisy, is perched on my wrist
while I blog, preening...

Besides, we don't need a dog since there
are now two pugs living next door... barking
at any movement in the backyard.

They go absolutely nuts when Cruiser,
our resident duck, waddles by.
Cruiser snorts hot air at the yappers.

It's strange how the owners never really
hear their barking animals--must be music
to their ears. I also wonder why they'd keep
them outside in this intolerable heat?

Dogs are fine as long as they keep
their yaps quiet,and don't charge at me
with teeth bared. That's happened only twice.
I'm lucky the dog, on each occasion,
was held back by a working electric fence.
Unfortunately, many Florida communities
don't allow fences around the property.
Maybe I should capture the neighborhood
alligator, leash it, and take it on walks with me...

Tom's been bitten once in the past by an
unleashed German Shepherd while jogging,
requiring stitches on his leg.
Paul was nipped on the ankle by a neighbor's
Maltese while taking a walk.
The Dog Whisperer would be very busy
in our neighborhood...

Like I said, I'd rather have a bird...
quit pecking at me, Daisy!

Banzai!

I never wanted any help in the kitchen,
though sometimes I’d have Jen help me out.
If help’s in the kitchen, it usually means
more of a mess--
I figured why add to the kitchen cleanup?

Everyone has their own rhythm and methods
of doing things. I clean up immediately after each prep.
Jen would cut up the veggies and cube the chicken.
We liked making Asian-inspired recipes.
I really appreciated her help, even though it sometimes
looked like a Benihana chef had gone berserk…

Jen now understands where I was coming from
when I’d often tell her “No thanks, honey--I can do it…”
She’s a great cook and enjoys her kitchen and cooking solo.
Her fella, Vince, from what I hear, rocks in the kitchen, too.
Jen’s motto is:
Food go in pot, not on floor…

Camp-Free Zone

We’ve never been camping. Not once.
Tom is the kind of guy
who loves nature and the outdoors.
Me, too.

He’s talked about camping in the Sierras
and in northern Cal.
The reality of spending money on camping equipment,
packing the stuff and setting it up, then repacking
it all changed his thoughts.

The idea of a hot shower and a comfortable bed
is more appealing and a hard notion to give up
in favor of camping.
If you’re really in the boonies there won’t be a
store around for miles.

Seasoned campers know the ropes.
They know how to make a great campfire.
The aroma of hot dogs and beans, or the catch
of the day, drifting through the night air sounds
mouthwatering-- if you ate hot dogs and beans
and lake trout.

Tom likes hummus, kale salads with organic soy
and black beans; plain yogurt, cans of Alaskan
wild caught salmon, pumpernickel bread, almonds,
and hard-boiled eggs; Uncle Sam and Kashi GoLean
cereals, bananas, and California navel oranges.
It’s pretty apparent camp cooking wouldn’t be much
on the ‘to do’ list.

There’s also the prospect of bears sniffing around,
looking for food or a human keepsake--like one’s scalp.
Snakes and spiders could be a problem.
Come to think of it, I have wildlife and reptiles in my own
neighborhood…
Camping sounds like fun, alright.
Who’s up for a chicken stir-fry?

Up, Up And Away...

De-worming the pool is great fun.
After a rainstorm, worms line the pool bottom.
I netted forty-five worms last week.
You can tell my mornings start off with a blast…
It’s a peculiar thing why worms are on the death march.
Don’t they have any sense?
I’ve got to get a life…

Lately, I’ve been going through pictures.
I’ve been thinking about Jen and the great fun
we had on our two Bahamas cruises a few years ago.
The first time I checked out our bathroom,
I wondered how do you flush this thing?
Not only that, but how do you move around in this cabin?

We shared Corona buckets on deck, and
compared notes on our tans.
We frolicked like school girls on the beach,
swinging in beach hammocks.
I haven’t seen Jen for a couple of weeks,
since she’s moved to Key West.

Jen’s been having a grand time.
Her ship has finally arrived.
At least, I sure hope so.
Paul misses Jenny.
They are great friends as well as siblings.
They were fishing pals, too.

We’re expecting tons of rain this week.
I’ve got the worm bucket ready…

By The Sea, By The Sea...

New visitors to Florida often forget or
don't realize about the unkindly welcome that may
be waiting for them as they dash out into
the sparkling blue waters...stingrays.

Stingrays are prevalent during the months of May-Oct.
Swimmers are reminded to do the “Stingray Shuffle”
when entering the water. The shuffling feet create a
disturbance that causes stingrays to move away.
If a sting does occur, a hot pack treatment is recommended.

A few summers ago, my family and I went to
Marco Island's Tigertail Beach.
It's a beautiful, long, narrow stretch of sand.
One must cross a wide passage of water to get to
Tigertail from the mainland--which is best
accomplished during low tide.
Once across, your feet sink into warm talcum powder sand.
Tigertail is inhabited by shorebirds of all varieties.
It's a beachcomber's and photographer's delight.

Once we crossed over to Tigertail we spent no more
than 20 minutes before threatening dark clouds began
developing; lightning was suddenly flashing all around the island.
Some fishermen dove into the beach foliage, trying
to hide.

Grabbing our gear, we walked quickly across
the waterway, then ran as the lightning was
nearly overhead.
I suddenly screamed.
My bare foot had grazed across the fork of a stingray,
slicing the length of my foot.
We finally made it to a service hut on the beach,
just in time, before the weathervane atop
the hut was hit twice by lightning.

This adventure was not forgotten.
The need to plan for an outdoor outing is necessary,
especially during Florida's summer months.

And don't forget The Stingray Shuffle!

**Photo courtesy of Capt.Paul

Take A Number...

I'm looking forward to getting my HP back today.
As some of my readers know, the hard drive detoured
into Neverland almost two weeks ago.
I've been posting from Paul's laptop and using many of
his wonderful photos of California locations.

I have learned a very big lesson: back up files frequently.
From all indications, HP was able to recover data.
I had numerous photographs on the drive, and quite
a bit of writing: short stories, poetry.

Paul and Tom love using my pc.
Paul wants to load Flight Sim on the pc.
He has a yoke and rudder pedals for FS.
He'd previously loaded the game on my other pc
that crashed 8 months ago.
The Gateway was almost 8 years old.
I'm holding firm on not loading the game.

I bought the HP for my own use, for uploading my images to
micro stock photo agencies. The monitor is 24", perfect
for viewing digital photos. I've already sold some images.

I'll have to lay claim to the pc in the early mornings.
Then again, I just might buy the guys their own desktop pc...

Not Only Mosquitoes, But...

Other minor irritating things:

*Tall movie-goers or people with big hair sitting in front of
me at the movies, after coming in late.

*Bubble gum smackers and snappers.

*Beverages, mostly coffee that's been purposely emptied on the sidewalk.

*Drivers who cut me off in traffic.

*Drivers who take up two or more parking spaces.

*People with way over 10 items in the Express Checkout.

*People who hold the place in line for more than 1 person.

*People who dump their exotic pets in the Everglades...Big problem.

*Talkers who don't let me get a word in edge-wise.

*Sneezers and coughers who don't cover their mouth.

*Those long-winded Christmas letters from people you hardly see.

*DVD's that quit with only 30 minutes left.

*Comb-overs.

*Drivers yakking on cell phones, while balancing food in their laps.

*Chips in bags that 's mostly air.

*Rebates that never arrive.



*

Daisy Who?

My daughter, Jenny, took her adorable peach-faced
lovebird, Daisy, to the avian vet today.
The bird's been bothered with a bad
irritation under her wing.

Daisy loves to fly around the pool enclosure.
Jennifer took her outside the enclosure
one day to sit.
Daisy decided to visit the lofty pine trees,
and found herself a branch to perch upon.

After 2 hours of bird-smoozing, she flew back to Jenny.
Since her excursion that day, she's been pecking away
underneath her wing. Apparently birdy had significantly
scratched herself and has since been making it worse.

The cream prescription was called in by the vet,
and Jenny picked it up, using her own name.
"What name, again? We don't have a prescription
for Jennifer. There's one here for Daisy Fowl..."
Say again ?

Where, Oh Where...?

Have you ever experienced what I call the
'Poof' Syndrome?
One minute you know what you want to say,
and the next minute--poof, it's gone!
That happens to me sometimes.
I also forget where I've put something, and spend
needless time searching for it.
Which brings me to my husband, Tom.

Tom has a good memory.
He can bring up dates from 30-40 years ago,
knowing exactly where and what he was doing
on that date.
It's like he has a mental logbook.

Tom was an airline captain for 30 years.
Punctuality and attention to details were
of the utmost importance.
He was an amazing pilot--one you would
have enjoyed flying with.

We took some very interesting trips.
Tom lost me once.
He always felt the need to venture off to
find something to eat--usually fruit.

We were sitting in the train in Frankfurt, waiting for departure.
Tom had the sudden urge for an orange or banana.
He got off, leaving me.
"I'll only be a minute," he said, wandering off.
We had less than 10 minutes before the train
left the station.

Minutes later, I looked over to the adjacent train,
and there was Tom making his way on to the wrong train.
I started banging against the window by my seat,
hoping to get his attention.
Tom finally looked over, spotting me.

On another trip, in Norway, his punctuality
didn't matter too much.
He got off the tour bus during a short break.
Tom huffed his way down the road, hoping to find
a vendor. I stayed behind with everyone else.
Of course, the driver, Jorgen, wanted to leave!

All the tourists refused to leave without Tom.
Soon, he was bobbing up the trail with a bag of fruit.
Scrambling aboard the bus, we could see that
Jorgen was drunk.
He'd had extra time to guzzle half
of his 6-pack.
Our tour guide, who I called Blue Boots--
because of the iridescent colored boots he was wearing--
told us this was normal behavior for Jorgen.
Jorgen loved his beer and link sausages!
We sure felt secure knowing that...

There have been some funny twists and turns
during our marriage.
I'm always walking in the opposite direction of Tom.
Maybe that's what's meant by "opposites attract!"
My sense of direction isn't good, and map-reading?
Not good!

Yes, we all have our moments when our brains
take a detour...
I'm still looking around for the car keys.

In One Ear...

Things to Avoid:


*Ultra-discount motels--
unless you want to start your own flea circus.

*Sushi that comes with a side of de-wormer.

*Corn-on-the-cob on a first date.

*Bar-be-cued ribs on the second date.

*Egyptian cotton sheets.
I never found Omar Sharif in the package.

*600-count thread sheets.
The sheets were so tight, I couldn't get out
of bed for days.

*Anything that has the word 'miracle' or
'revolutionary' in its advertising.

*Anything that promises it will take the
drudge out of housework.

*Anything that self-inflates.
My air-bra blew up the other day.

*Products that promise a more noticeable
improvement in 4 weeks.
Sure--if you're 30!

*Believing the 'Before' and 'After' photographs.
Ever see the difference in lighting?

*Buying a used car at night--in a
deserted, unlit parking lot.

*A tour bus--if the driver has a string
of link sausages and a 6-pack in his lap.

*Fortune cookies whose fortunes say
"Better luck next time...'

Under The Rug...

The most excitement that happens to me during
the day is an occasional sneeze.
My face flushes a rosy glow and my eyes shimmer.
I can't attribute the effects to anything but
housecleaning--dust bunnies under the bed,
in closets, reproducing like rabbits!

My husband helps a lot around the house.
I'm the troubleshooter, the technical fixer-upper.
Whenever something goes wrong, or malfunctions,
it's Nan to the rescue.
Nothing like being blonde, smart and well trained.
Just toss me a box of truffles...

Other than typical work around the house, I do get
out of the house.
My idea of a good time is doing lunges and squats
in the pool...darn exciting during a thunderstorm!

I celebrated a birthday recently.
I've noticed the weeks go by so quickly, birthdays seem
to come about every 6 months.
Tom says I look good for my age.
Hmmm...in alligator years?
That'd make me 124--I do look good for my age!

I hear distant rumbles of thunder.
Clouds are boiling up.
Time for a pool break...

Planet X...

Big Foot, according to eyewitnesses, roams around the remote areas of the Pacific Northwest, Northern and Central California.
For all the times I've been to Humboldt County, I've never seen him.
There's even a carved wood likeness of Big Foot in Willow Creek, California.

Florida has the Skunk Ape--a big, hairy, smelly creature.
People have said that the creature leaves behind
a horribly putrid scent.

It's been sighted by numerous people in various parts of the Everglades.
Hunters and fishermen, as well as local folks, have sworn
they've seen Skunk Ape.
Some people have videos and still pictures to prove the sightings.
Like Big Foot, footprints have been documented.
I've never seen Skunk Ape--only in a television special.

I saw an unexplainable UFO once.
Honest!
Some college friends and I went to the beach in Malibu
to witness the 'grunion run'. The best time is late at night.
Hundreds of people were on the beach, waiting for
the tiny creatures to scramble back to the ocean.

From where we stood, looking down the beach, we suddenly
saw a strange light.
As quickly as it appeared, it vanished.
Seconds later, overhead, a bright, conical light
flashed over us.
No sound, nothing.
It wasn't a blimp, or a weather balloon.
All we know, along with hundreds of onlookers,
that something quite mysterious happened that summer evening.

Does Big Foot, the Skunk Ape, or UFO's really exist?
I can't say they don't...


*photo is not mine.

Even Arnie Can't Help!

I've come to the decision that pc's aren't meant to last.
With scrupulous maintenance, updates--all that's required for
a reliable computer--the pc turns into The Terminator.

My 7-year-old pc died an unexplainable death in October, 2008.
I replaced it with a highly recommended pc.
All the specs that one could possibly want was
packed the new system. A huge hard drive for my digital files
was of utmost importance.

Yesterday, my faithfully running machine took a nose dive.
I tried different things to get it fully booted.
No luck.
The hard drive failed.
I didn't have all of my digital photos backed up.
Big mistake, you're saying...
So right.

I'm poaching my son's laptop.
I'm expecting a new hard drive in about 2 weeks.
I can't get the hang of the laptop--I'm used to a mouse!
Anyway, I'm blogging today.
I hope to post with my own photographs soon.
Any photos that I use now on my blog are from Paul's file.
Many are of California, the coast, and areas around Sonoma County.
Others are Florida shots.


Thanks to all of you in Cyber-ville for reading
my blogs. I enjoy doing them, and will continue to write them
from the laptop.

The humor will return, I promise!

The Itsy Bitsy Spider...?

As a kid I used to be deathly afraid of spiders.
I'd find them suspended above my bed, just over my pillow.
Daddy-Long-Legs with their long, thready legs, gave me chills and nightmares.

My brother, Michael, and I would go on a spider hunt, flashlight in hand.
Evenings were the best time.
Black Widow Spiders dotted the concrete wall along the sidewalk by our house.
Michael captured them, dumping them into a glass jar.
Thinking back on our spider escapades, I'm surprised that
Michael came away--ALIVE.

Today, I live in a subtropical climate.
Everything thrives here.
Bugs are super-sized--and that includes spiders.
Hanging dead center from a huge web draped across the Royal Palm tree out front was a Trap Door Spider.
It was the Biggest, the Blackest and Scariest spider I'd seen yet.
Right out of a Stephen King novel!

Fangs, fur...orbs as big as marbles.
I stood there, transfixed, fear settling in my spine.
My childhood chills had come back.
Grabbing a broom, I broke the web.
'Trappie' dropped down, dangling...
I flung it out to the street.
I haven't seen one since.

Wolf Spiders are just as fearsome.
Recently, one was sitting on the edge of the pool.
Big as a golf ball, and very hairy.
I pool-netted him, and sent him flying into the woods.

Bugs Beware...Approach--if you dare!