Turkey Talk

Thanksgiving is a time to be truly thankful
for family--and many things--particularly
for not being a turkey!

My daughter took one look at the turkey in
the refrigerator and said “It’s a little small, isn’t it?”
Anything larger than 10 lbs. and I’d need to
throw out an entire shelf of food.
I’m stacking butter and dip, jams and mango
salsa as it is…

I was informed that most people eat
Thanksgiving dinner around 1:00.
The pilgrims in my family began cooking
the turkey around 4:00 p.m.
I think my ancestors came over on a
different vessel--later in the day, too.

I’m a descendant of Zachary Taylor, the 12th
President. I’m not sure what time he had
his Thanksgiving dinner…he looked well fed though.
Back to turkey day...

I’m definitely thankful that I’m walking
without my leg cast.
My family is the joy of my life,
And I’m blessed with friends--both near and far.
I’m thankful for all my readers in cyberspace, too.

Last of all, I hope our resident ducks, Cruiser
and Whitey will come around soon.
They’ve been missing since Sept., no doubt
living it up in warmer climes.

I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving--
and to those who don’t celebrate the holiday,
have a great day!

Gobble…

Whine And Dine...

"Doctor, can you help me?"
"What seems to be the problem?"
"Writer's Block. I can't seem to get my funny on."
"Ahh, yes, that could be a problem."
"Ok...so what can I do about my writing drought?"
"I don't know--can't think of a thing."
Big help...

I need an elixir of Rodney Dangerfield, with a double
shot of Woody Allen and Carl Hiaasen--something
I can't get at Blue Martini!
Some people are dripping with humorous anecdotes
and one-liners, with little effort, it seems.

I could make fun of myself, I suppose.
Tom's been calling me peg-leg.
I've become glued to my sofa lately--not by choice.
I fractured my ankle recently.

I'd rather be outside in the pool, enjoying the
hot Florida sun, or on the Las Vegas trip we
had to cancel this week.

So, I've been following orders to stay off my feet.
I'm getting into the Cleopatra routine: Enjoying
being waited on hand and foot--pardon the pun.
More fruit, maybe a sweet tea, please.

I haven't been through a drive-thru in a long time.
Maybe I'll get Jen to take me this week--though,
with the luck that's been hitting me over the last
few months, I'd probably wind up with an 'unhappy' meal!
But I digress.

With a collective heave I hoist myself from the sofa,
clogging my way to the kitchen to grab the Dustbuster.
Cleo left her cookie crumbs between the cushions--
which has taken on the shape of her bum...

I Have a Bone To Pick...

I'll have one Dino-Chicken with garlic mashed
potatoes, please.
Huh? How is it served up--rolled up to my table on a dolly?

It seems that a dino-chicken may be scientifically
created one day. A recent paleo-archaeologist discovered
a bone sticking out from a massive cliff face--a femur of
a very extinct dinosaur...60 million years old.
That's a lot of birthdays.

The find was so massive that an excavation crew was
brought to the site. The femur was broken into small
workable sections for removal.

Once back to the lab, the specimens were placed under
microscopes. What was discovered was active DNA :
thread-like, stringy blood vessels--and a gooey substance
from the femur's center--marrow.
How could that be?

So, I'm wondering, what will the scientists do with
this discovery? It's a scary thought to think that some
"mad" laboratory scientist could mix up a batch of hybrid dinosaurs.
Shades of a future Jurassic Park...?
Should Disney worry?

Will there be a super-chicken packaged in the poultry case?
Can I look forward to a super-sized roasting chicken,
instead of the paltry selection of scrawny rotisserie chickens
flashing their golden bony legs and flat chests?
One can only dream...

Hang Time...

With cell in hand, I enter the number.
Press 1 for English.
There’s something wrong with that.

The voice lists the menu options: longer than Pinocchio’s nose.
I try to remember what options 2,3, and 4 were.
I’m sorry, but all customer service representatives are busy.
The average wait time is 8 minutes. Please hold...
Hmmmm.

Let’s see…in 8 minutes, I can pour another cup of tea,
polish my nails, knock down spider-sack webs from the
pool enclosure, or go online to order Poisonous Snake insurance.
No, not really, though it’s not a bad idea…

Hanging up after 7.5 minutes of listening to bellowing
recorded music that rivaled the mating call of a wild yak,
I decided that I just saved myself $15.00.

Making the rounds around the pool deck to my padded
chaise lounge, I suddenly feel something crawling along my arm.

Looking down, I see a medium-sized black spider, dangling
from a web, orbs glaring at me, its spindly legs dancing along my arm.
Yikes! I whack it off with a paperback book, then step on it.

Maybe I should opt for poisonous spider insurance…

Golden Dreams

Where have all the years gone, and so quickly?
These thoughts cross my mind every once in awhile,
especially now as I've had my 63rd birthday.
If I could, would I go back to an earlier time, back
to my teen years or my college days?

If I'd had a way of foretelling the future, I may
have done a few things differently, change my
direction a bit, but then again...
If I'd fallen in love at 19 with the handsome Italian
fella living next door, whom I felt was in love with me
at the time , I'd no doubt have a houseful of kids.
But, I might also be divorced—since that was his
status a few years ago, and still might be.


If I'd been more motivated to finish college and
get a degree, I'd be teaching English Comp right now.
When I'd moved to San Francisco in 1970, I was working
at a local store. From the entrance I heard,
“Nancy, what on God's earth are you doing working here?”
My jaw dropped.

It was my former college professor, Jean Wilkinson,
who'd had very high aspirations for me.
She'd kept many of the works I'd written, and thought
I would've pursued a writing career, at the very least.
Presently, I'm still writing: short stories and romantic
poetry,as well as this blog.

If I'd followed my parents to Oregon instead of moving to
the Bay Area, I would've never met my husband, a handsome
airline captain,and had our two children.
Nor would I have had the opportunity to meet Charlton Heston
or Bing Crosby who were customers of mine one day.

We now live in South West Florida, which has changed the
direction of my life. I'm a freelance photographer, living a dream
I've always had--sequestered in the back of my mind.
I'm an artist, too.

Life is often convoluted.
You're never sure what each day is going to bring.
Ah, to be a kid again...?
Not a chance.

Wheely Pat?

I'm waiting for my phone to ring--the call telling me
that I'm a contestant on "The Wheel".
You know the show--the show where Vanna looks
doomed to wear, at times, the most ridiculously
outlandish evening dresses. Isn't Outlandish a planet?
Nah, but it should be...

I think my luck in receiving a phone call is much
like my luck in hatching an egg!
Paul reminds me that I had a darn good contestant
chance last summer when the traveling wheel was in
Naples for a contestant search.

It was a broiling hot day.
Jen and I approached the area of the search,
Hodges University, sweeping our eyes over the
multitude of hopefuls, and decided that standing in the
hot humid sun, probably for hours, was not that enticing.

So, on most nights, I'm correctly guessing the answer,
usually with only a smattering of letters, sometimes
with only 2 or 3 letters showing.
Tom and Paul usually can't believe how quickly
I can guess. They both think my wallet would be
bulging by now, if I were on the show...

Maybe I'll try out this summer--can I wear my swimsuit?

Gripes, Gotchas--And Then Some...

PC gremlins are haunting my HP.
The whatzit kind that materializes seemingly,
for no material reason! I’m thinking it could be
one of several reasons: PSU failure, the fan, or
dust bunnies running around inside the case.

The pc freezes while online, goes to a black screen.
No apparent viruses present. The monitor screen will
occasionally display gray and white diagonal lines.
Coming to grips with this annoying problem is turning
my hair grayer and whiter!

Last night on the news, I was very disturbed--
not that I’m not in that present frame of mine
with my pc problems!

Some dingbat official decided that Naples’ Muscovy
ducks should be eliminated. They are being 'humanely'
euthanized. My mouth fell open at the ludicrous suggestion
that these cute “citizens” which roam our lakes and parks,
are nuisances and highly dangerous creatures!
Let me say that there are far more two-footed “dangers”
we should be concerned with, particularly those who
cell-talk and drive.

I’ve never been so aggravated.
Now, I can understand why Cruzer, our neighborhood
Muscovy, has been lying low for a few days.
I sure hope she’s got the “spring fling thing” and hasn't
been captured.

Love is in the air in the bug and bird world.
Luv-bugs are enjoying marathon sessions, mid-air--amazing!
Female birds are playing hard to get--their antics are
quite amusing, and keeps my mind off Cruzer’s absence.

Tom is in a chopping mood. Our poor palm trees out
front have been topped-- glad he didn’t become a barber…
The wasps are building condos in our hot garage.
They’re zeroing in on the holes in the garage doors.

Tom is forever swatting them--he’s been stung
once already. Yes, it’s another hot day in paradise,
and my day is planned around a trip to the Byte Shop
for advice, and a dip in the pool.
I’m not going to think about pests, gremlins, or house cleaning.
Just floating around the pool…

Deep Fried

The humor quadrant of my brain is slightly
exhausted from my last blog:
http://gulfgal-nancysworld.blogspot.com/2010/02/hey-mister-your.html
My brother Michael thought my friend’s wake up
remedy was ‘out in left field’--[something’ sure was]!
Mike feels someone should have jostled the man awake.

Jostle? Wiggle? Hmmm..no way, given the bulk,
height and grumpy ratio of the man.
He ought to be glad I didn’t alert Eye-Witness News…

Speaking of things that sort of pop into one’s
line of sight, I have to say I haven’t received
any error messages, exceptions, or HD failures
for at least a year. I’m talking pc problems here…
What a segue…

Don’t you love getting strange, cryptic messages
across a black or blue screen? An exception at
Oe71312 in doppelgangerWz67x.3oe62has occurred.
No kidding? Is there a fast-ball remedy for it?
[you have to have read the previous blog to get my drift].

Like I know what the heck that message refers to,
or what to do with it. I bet a caveman would
know its meaning…
The origin is not of this planet--I think space aliens
in human form are working in the pc labs…

Too bad there isn’t some device that can warn
you of the kind of day one is going to have:
Cryptic, in-your-face, whatever.
I can always count on one thing, at least: Cruiser,
our stomach-with-a-neck resident duck…

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…

Menu Madness...

It’s getting harder and harder to figure
out something different to cook for dinner.
I have volumes of cookbooks--too many, having
worked at Border’s bookstore a few years ago.

My meal wheel has been rotating around
a handful of dishes: Spaghetti with Publix
meatballs [I used to make them], roasted
pork loin with pecans, my version of California
Pizza Kitchen’s barbecued chicken pizza,
fish, pot roast and meatloaf. These dishes are
good for the wintry evenings we’ve been having.

When it begins warming up again, and especially
during the humid, hot summer months, I'll keep
the oven off, and the menu gets paired down
to lighter fare, like stir fries, and chicken with
Sweet Baby Ray’s Original BBQ Sauce that I
can cook in the small convection oven.

I was thinking who I’d want to be marooned with
on a desert island. I choose Colin Ogg, recipe diviner.
I’m sure he’d make something interesting and
unusual given his clever cooking ability.

So, this morning, I’m wondering what to plan for dinner…
I know! Colin’s Sloppy Joe’s:
http://ifyancancookyoucantoo.blogspot.com/2010/01/sloppy-sloppyokay-joes.html mmmm, good.

Schedule Change:

Hi everyone! I've decided to write my blog
on Tuesdays and Fridays. Mondays are slow
wake up days for me...yawnnnn...
I've needed the extra time just to thaw
my brain out from all the chilly days we've
had here in Florida.

It was 31 last night--even our resident
duck, Cruiser was walking funny today!
I know, the temps are far worse elsewhere,
but we Floridians have thin blood--and are
also spoiled from the usually warm,
year-round temps.

So, please continue to read and follow me.
I hope you enjoy and comment on my blog.

This Is Florida, Right?

Florida’s unseasonably cold weather
is causing pest problems for some people.
Ants are taking the high road into warmer
confines, sneaking their spindly legs under
and through the smallest cracks and openings,
making themselves at home in kitchens and baths.

Lucky for us--and them--we haven’t seen
the little trespassers. I double-dosed the house
perimeter with “Don’t You Dare, Bug Spray”…
don’t try to find it in the stores--if you do,
call the head doc, quick…!

I imagine the underground squadrons are
re-grouping for a Spring and Summer assault
in our yard. I’m ready for you buggers…

Thankfully, the icy cold has killed off some
of the mosquitoes and no-see-ums which
plague us through most of the year.
Short-lived, I’m sure, since we’ll no doubt
have the munchers back in full nosh soon…

Rule of thumb and leg: Cover up, particularly
during the warm months! My son, Paul is
sporting bite “tattoos” on his ankles and
legs from no-see-ums.

Our resident duck, Cruiser has been squirreling
herself in pine needle mulch to keep warm.
She usually waddles into the yard with grass
and mulch hanging from her face and beak.
What a sight…

Swatting the bugs aside, the Gulf is 52
unwelcoming degrees, sending pods of
manatees to warmer Gulf waters surrounding
the electric utility plants.

Visitors are disappointed with the weather
and lack of swimming, but are enjoying the
frolicking, friendly animals. A popular
viewing spot is Manatee Park in Estero.

Watch out--it's raining iguanas!
They’re so cold that their frozen bodies go
into a hibernation state, causing them to plop
to the ground. The kamikaze iguanas appear to
be dead, and are often being removed by
individuals who suddenly discover the creatures
springing back to life in their vehicles.

Summer can't come soon enough for me.
My coffee pot awaits, the aroma drifting
under my sniffly nose. I’m still in my
flannel pj's, on morning watch for ol’ mulch face…

Brrr...

Welcome snowbirds to frigid Florida!
Left the sweaters and coats home, eh?
While in the clothing store I watch our northern
neighbors frantically searching for sweaters
and sweats--anything to keep them warm.

When we moved here to Naples in 2002,
we didn’t bring anything that would
keep us warm. Who’d think that Florida
would get so cold? But we were fooled, too,
and tried desperately to find sweats--anything--
that would warm us up a notch.
Zip!

So, like our visitors, we endured the cold
weather for a few days--but these current
temps are hedging into two weeks!
I miss wearing my shorts and sandals.

I spoke to my Brooklyn friend, Delores recently,
before our cold snap. She was freezing in 23
degree temps and thinking of our 80 degree
weather I was presently enjoying.

Yep, Old Man Winter is throwing Florida
some pretty chill Arctic air, breaking records,
dipping into the low, frosty 30’s overnight.
The gulf waters are empty of swimmers, except
for 300# loggerheads coming back ashore.

We turn the oven on these mornings
to warm the house up. Daisy, our lovebird,
thaws her icy stick feet by the oven.
When I was a kid living in the foggy beach
city of Santa Monica, CA., mom would put
my school uniform on the oven door to warm
it up. Felt so good…

Cruiser, our resident Muscovy duck, waddled
quickly up the sidewalk after spotting me driving
back into the driveway yesterday--she knows
the car since she’s left her “calling card “
enough times beneath it.

After a few pats on her back, I threw her
a few bites of cinnamon bread.
I’m a soft touch…

With a north wind blowing today, as
usual these past few days, I’m snatching
a thick fleecy jacket from Jen’s closet,
since she’s away for a few days.
Feels so good as I slip it on, but with two
other layers, I feel like the little kid in
Christmas Story.
Daisy’s picked her snuggling spot on my
shoulder…

Please Mr. Weather Man, tell us that
our warm days are returning soon…

Coffee, Tea, Or...

Naples hosted its first International Film Festival.
I was sitting in Books-A-Million at Mercato
last Thursday when a a group of tall and
exceptionally handsome Italian men walked
into the café for coffees.

The third thing I noticed about them were
their shoes: shiny, black and barely out of
Reptile Junction Shoe Emporium.

The well-dressed men slithered past me,
slim and model-like--no bulging gym muscles
creeping out from their designer shirts.

The air smelled wonderfully fragrant.
I haven’t smelled anything that knee-melting
and sweat-inducing in a long time.
One gorgeous man looked over at me and smiled
broadly, his teeth sparkling snow-blinding white.

Wouldn’t it be cool if they were producers or
directors and wanted me in a film I daydreamed,
missing the sip of my tea, and dribbling tea droplets
down my Marshall’s top.

I dabbed and snapped back to reality as the group
of men flowed past me one more time, speaking
Italian. Snow White smiled, and I smiled back,
flashing my Crest Whitestrips teeth.

Tom picked me up a few minutes later.
As I slid into the car, a salty-sweat scent filled my nose.
That’s my guy…

I know what I’m getting Tom: one of those
scented tree hangers for the car.
I wonder if they come in Calvin or Ralph Lauren scents?
Ahhh.

Bubbling Over...

Put a glass of wine in front of me, or any
alcoholic drink, and the vapors will get me giddy.
Alcohol is a foreign substance to my bloodstream.

Only occasionally will I even have a beer.
Something happens after one glass: I start
giggling over the slightest things.
You’d think that an Irish gal would tolerate
alcohol better than I do.

Jen and I went out recently to Uno Chicago
Grill for Happy Hour--which, in my case,
is an understatement.

No sooner had I taken a few sips of my Bud,
that I began giggling. Tears down my face hysterics.
Jen began laughing too, since it’s contagious.
Thank goodness, my outburst only lasted a
couple of minutes.

Once, Jen and I went to a members reception and
art exhibition at the von Liebig Art Center.
I’d already enjoyed half a glass of Cavit Grigio.

We stepped up to a piece on exhibit: a wood carving
of the male form. Needless to say, I began erupting,
and made a comment, ”That’s quite a 'diplodocus'. "
Jen was laughing uncontrollably.
Unfortunately, the artist was standing next to us…
Believe me, the statue was disproportional.

Tonight, I’m exhibiting a photograph, Aspen Glow,
in a juried show, the 48th Founder’s Exhibition
at the von Liebig.

There will be tables of food, wine and entertainment.
I’ll definitely eat something before I have any wine.
I sure hope I don’t run into Diplodocus II...

In One Ear ...

More and more, I see guys wearing
their caps backwards, the bill hanging
down the back of the head.
What’s with that?
The bill of the hat is meant for sun protection.

I also see people running around in the
blazing sunshine with their sunglasses
perched on top of their heads.
Okay…
The next thing I'll see will be hearing
impaired people wearing their hearing
aids in their noses.

As our kids are growing up, we go out of our
way to protect our children.
I always cringed and comforted the kids
when they would get badly skinned knees.

I was waiting to be served at a bookstore café
once when a very nice looking young college
fella stepped up to the counter.
Wedged inside of both earlobes was a black
plug, the size of a wine cork.

I was envisioning the size of the needle
for that piercing. He told me it hurt a lot
at first. No kidding…!
Where did he get that done,
Big Bruno's Piercing Palace?

A pretty young gal was sporting two nose
rings, a lip and tongue piercing, and several
piercings along her outer ear.
Won't she feel dumb when she's 50...
Nose rings--big ouch, but a good place to
hang the car keys.

Paul has a snook swimming up his arm--
a small tattoo he got a few years ago, when
we moved here to Naples, ’snook land’.

Paul said there was some pain.
No way would I go out of my way to pay
someone to stick a needle in me.
Getting my ears pierced years ago
was pain enough.

Jen fell into the trap as well.
It seems to be a very sporty thing with
women to have a pierced navel.

Jen tried hiding the fact with longer t-shirts,
but being the wise mom detective that I am,
the little bulge gave away the ghost.
Busted!
She said I should get one too.
Yeah, when it snows in Florida!

Drip-Dry Brains…

Either age or Florida’s rain this past
summer has put my brain in a spin
cycle. Mine is tagged: Handle with care, delicate
cycle, cold water. That explains everything:
My brain has shrunk.

It seems like I’m always looking for
something--simultaneously forgetting
where that ‘something’ was placed.
Drives me nuts…

A day doesn’t go by that I’m asking:
“Has anyone seen my phone?”
Definitely the number one thing that I
misplace, or think I do.

I had it clipped to my shorts when I asked
Paul that question a few days ago.
“It’s on your waistband, Mom.”

At times, I’ll be thinking of something
that I need to buy or do--and whoosh--
gone--flown right out of my head.

So, I stand there, glued to the floor,
trying to recount what I was doing that
hopefully, will bring me back to the matter
at hand--or,in my case--brain.

I write stuff down now.
Tom’s called me 'old forgetful' for years.
Funny, I didn’t forget our 37th wedding
anniversary on the 21st ,or my dental
appointment this morning…

Open At Your Own Risk...

Products that need opening require
the heavy handed strength of a
Sumo wrestler...
The caps and lids never budge,
and the foil or plastic seal under the
cap must have been fused on by NASA.
I’ve invented cuss words trying
to pry up the seals.

Life is hard enough, so why do
companies have to make it so
impossible to use their products to begin with?
Manufacturers must sit around at a
huge table devising new ways to
drive consumers nuts.

Aspirin bottles are annoyingly difficult:
Line up the arrows and pull off.
Sure…
The only thing I usually pull off is
my fingernail--and they’re real!

I tried feverishly to twist off a jar lid
of spaghetti sauce.
I twisted, pried, whacked the lid--
it stayed on like it had been vacuum-
packed by some gigantic air-sucking creature.

This over-tightening, over-sealing is done for
product freshness and safety.
How many times have I tried to rip open a
foil or plastic package, resorting to yanking
the edge open with my teeth?
Teeth are more convenient than scissors...

All products need to come with a warning:
Try to open--we dare ya--at your own risk,
which may include the following side effects:
A broken wrist, fingernails pulled back to the quick,
and a migraine the size of the Moon…
Exactly where I’d like to Pow-Zoom
the cap and lid inventors…

The Wise-Acre Lounge...

There are a lot of good intentions about health
and other issues that sometimes get sidelined,
or slightly altered from concept to delivery.

For instance:

1- To maintain good health, one should have
plenty of fruits and veggies every day.
Let’s see, I ate part of a water-logged avocado,
some grapes that tasted like a dose of medicine,
and a banana I could have used for a door-stop.

2- Everyone is supposed to drink 8 glasses
of water a day.
Yeah, if you hook up a hose to your waistband,
and put the toilet in the living room…

3- Get 8 hours of sleep every night.
Yeah, sure, after having 8 glasses of water that day…

4- Exercise every day.
My hosiery runs more than I do…
I’ve bought exercise equipment that eventually
just sat unused-- the pieces robotically
fused together into patio furniture.

5- I’ve bought several Chicken Soup For The Soul books.
How about Chocolate Truffles for the Chocolate Deprived?

6- I thought I’d try a veggie burger--it was great
after I loaded it with water-logged avocado, stringy
onion fries, and a spongy tomato.

7 -I’d love to have a guava jelly donut from
Whole Foods--that’s fruit, right?

8- I bought a pair of workout shoes.
I wore them to the fitness room twice-
they didn’t work out that great.

9- I also bought some Dri-Fit workout clothes,
made in the Arab Emirates.
Who’d they test them on, some dried up dromedaries?

10- Abiding by a meatless diet is a good idea…
Until I get the Caveman instinct to swing
a club at a juicy side of beef…

11- Uno Chicago Grill has a new snack menu
to die for: The Short Rib Slider, make that 2,
was delicious.
I followed it up with a huge salad when I got home.

12- I’ve come to the conclusion to kick it
up a notch, do more of the good stuff.
After all, I’m getting older.
When my next birthday rolls around, I’ll take it
as a grain of proverbial salt; stonewall it,
or rim my Mango Margarita glass…