Invasion!

I’m still getting sap out of my hair from the
Christmas tree. Now, if you believe that,
I can probably sell you swampland here
in Florida--might even come with a pet
alligator, or a Burmese Python.

Pythons are open to hunters now.
Thousands of these snakes are winding
through the Everglades--and even a few
have been spotted in populated Florida cities.

I’m not sure what I’d do if I ever saw a python
slithering in my wooded back yard. I might
give it the directions to a couple of homes where
yapping dogs break the peaceful hum of the outdoors.

I don’t like snakes whether harmless, or not.
One hot day a couple of summers ago, an
unidentified, dome-headed snake lay coiled in
the corner of our lanai, by the pool.

I hollered for Tom to remove it.
With a bamboo pole, he managed to drape
the snake--which was flaring out in attack mode--
and flung it out to the woods.
I was hoping for drawn and quartered myself…

I’ve been a few feet from a coral snake, which was
snaking its beautiful body along the pool pump,
just as I was coming around to feed the chlorinator
its weekly biscuits.

I ran 0-30 in a matter of seconds to the
garage for a shovel. By the time I’d made
it back to the same spot, the deadly snake
had winded its way toward the hose in the front yard.

I bashed it a few times, and it defied me,
slithering onto the damp grass. I took the
pointed head of the shovel--by that time, I was
shaking--and jabbed it hard as I could, then
shoveled the 3 foot lump and dropped it onto
a wooded, corner lot.

Passing gardeners gawked in amazement at my
catch of the day. Yes, I’m not a snake fan, nor
a fan of anything creepy that has more legs than I do.

With Spring finally here, and hot summer
days ahead, I’m also on creepy-crawler, fly-by
critter watch. I’m sure invading armies of
subterranean fire and black ants are planning
their “Nancy” invasions in my yard.

Mosquitoes are busily promoting their species
for a juicy attack, along with their co-conspirators,
no-see-ums. I’m waiting…

A Little Bit Of This And That...

My eyes are growing to the size of golf balls
as I stare at the blank computer screen...

It’s not easy dredging through the cobwebby
recesses of my brain in the early morning hours,
trying to figure out something humorous to write
about for my blog--and to think I was writing my
blog every day for a few months!

My blog friend, Colin, is prolific--his food blog at:
http://wokkingontherun.blogspot.com is colorful
and informative, filled with delicious recipes.
But then, Colin isn’t an antique like me.
His brain is still in diapers…

Speaking of which…

Cruiser, our resident duck, has been bob, bob,
bobbing along the back lanai twice a day.
She brought her white headed baby with her last week.

Cruiser was quite piggish, swiping whatever bread I
was tossing out to her baby. So piggish in fact, that
Cruiser has a case of “beano-itis’.

Yesterday, she waddled beside where I was soaking
up some sun, and emitted what I thought was a foghorn.
She looked over at me, and I thought, don’t you dare
pin that ’blurp’ on me!

Speaking of which…

I live in Naples, Fl, a beautiful, gulf coast town filled
with senior folk, a natural, tropical atmosphere,
early bird dinner and drink specials, assorted cultural
events, and cars that cost as much as pocket change
in an Arab’s wallet.

So, with all the round-the-clock, delectable varieties
of international cuisine and drink, over-indulgence
is often a big problem.

Store aisles are often filled with indescribable ‘blurps’.
“Air fresheners on aisle 6, please.”
I make a quick beeline so as not to get pinned with the
unfortunate scent du jour.

Speaking of which…

I’m thinking about my sinner menu for tonight.
I mean dinner menu! Stir-fry, I think-- right, Colin?
My eyes are now hanging on little springs, flopping
up and down as I continue staring at the blank screen
in front of me, wondering if Dave Barry ever had this problem…?

Duck...!

I’ve never been very adept at sports.
My tennis serve always looked as though
I was swatting a swarm of flies.

Ping pong was no better.
The last time I played a couple of years ago,
the ball pinged more than it ponged.
The ceiling tiles were hit more often than the paddle.
I nearly lopped the ear off my partner.

Field hockey in high school?
Let’s just say my teammates were lucky that
their heads were still upright…

Basketball?
If it was game legal to shoot into both baskets,
I would have been stellar.
However, I reigned supreme at volleyball.
Being tall helped as I could spike the ball
just over the net.

One recent sport I’ve taken up is billiards.
I still can’t break worth weasel spit, but I’ve
learned enough from pool technique books
to plan a shot--often surprising, Physics defying,
two-pocket shots, jaw-dropping my opponent.

“That shot defied the law of Physics, Minnesota Skinny,”
he’d say. I always felt highly complemented since my
doctorate friend geometrically planned most of his shots.

I think I finally found my niche…
Now if I’d only keep some of the balls from jumping the table…

For You, Jen: Daisy

Today’s blog is for my daughter, Jen.

It’s amazing how much a pet comes
to mean to us everyday. Someone said yesterday,
“It wasn’t the same as losing a dog.”
Does that make the hurt any less?

As many readers know, I’ve blogged
about Daisy, our lovebird, on numerous occasions.
She died yesterday.

We all had an attachment to her.
Even Daisy’s vet said that she was the most
resilient, sweet bird he’d encountered in a long time.
She always looked like she was smiling.

Jen and Daisy were on the lanai yesterday morning,
probably on ‘Cruiser’ watch. Daisy liked to walk
around the decking by the pool.

She was always honing the edges of her beak
along the textured concrete. Recently we needed
to take the edge off her sharp beak--she could punch
a hole through leather, it was so sharp.

Suddenly, Daisy toppled over into the frigid pool,
wings flapping. Jen quickly grabbed her out,
and spent several minutes trying to revive her,
but the shock was too much for Daisy.
Heartbroken, Jen buried her in the woods.

Daisy was a loving animal. She begged for
and enjoyed her head rubs, and was always nuzzling
our cheeks and necks.

Daisy is missed, but won’t be forgotten…
Turn the sound on high for the spoon clattering!

It's A Purple Bellied Snork...

Zap that bird!
My left eyeball hasn’t met up with the right
one this morning. I’m droopy-tired, along
with Tom--we were both awakened at the crack
of dawn by a highly energized dove. Even earplugs
barely drowned out the incessant cooing.

I got up, and in my brain-haze, made a strong
carafe of coffee, poured it and quickly knocked
the full thermos over onto the counter.
I swear I heard that dove mocking me…

A couple of years ago, we were plagued by a
highly vocalized bird in the woods that sounded
like an escapee from the Amazon rain forest.

Its repetitious melody echoed throughout the woods
at a ghastly hour for several nights. I never caught
sight of the feathered creature--lucky for it, since I was
envisioning the bird’s spiraling descent from its lofty perch.

Our lovebird, Daisy, has acquired some new screeches
into her repertoire of bird noises. Since her recent surgery.
she’s aggravated by the meds she’s forced to ingest every day.

Daisy’s lucky that we’re so patient with her,
with the woods only yards away…

A Nice Sunday Outing...

Everything slows down with age, as the saying goes.
Heading out to the Coconut Grove Art Festival Sunday
with Jen drove that saying right into the ground.

Older drivers, many of whom need a booster seat
while driving, were defying the laws of motion,
squeezing themselves tightly between cars. I spent
most of the drive gasping and inventing new cuss words…

Nothing phases Jen at all, driving the Capsule
[what she calls her Tribute] with expert reflexes,
though I was white-knuckled most of the trip, commenting
how glad I was to live on the quieter side
of Florida. If I’d had dentures, they would have flown
out or been swallowed.
I know my eyes socket-popped a few times…

When we finally made the last left turn to the festival,
we picked out Pay and Go parking, only a few blocks away.
Should have been called Pay and Go Broke Parking.
After inserting a credit card, and selecting the time
amount, we waited for the transaction to complete and
print out a parking voucher.

Ha! I think the transaction was routed through Siberia.
Nothing happened.I thought of inserting cash, but couldn’t
find the money slot. Coins Only, Jen told me.
Like people are carrying a wad of quarters…
After trying another parking kiosk across the street,
we finally had our ticket.

The festival was packed.
We walked a few inches at a time along the tented streets,
downwind of Cuban cigar smoke and expensive perfumes.
Craning our necks to see some of the exhibited artists, we
wobbled around leashed gorilla-sized and dust mop-sized
dogs to view the artist displays.

After 4 hours and probably as many walking miles, we
found the car and hopped in and drove off with visions
of Bimini Bread at the Islamorada Fish Company occupying
our hungry thoughts…the streets were light and we made
all the green lights. I supposed drivers had made it to
the Early Bird and Happy Hour specials by then.

Miami is a real experience if one has steel nerves.
I mellowed out, enjoying the beautiful sunset as we
drove from Miami to Bass Pro Shops in Dania, near
Ft. Lauderdale. High rises shimmered pink and gold.

Yes, everything is supposed to slow down with age,
except the time it took for Bimini Bread to reach my hips…
Mmm, good!

Inky-Dinky Do Or Don't....

I’ve been noticing a lot of “ink” lately.
Colin, dear reader and prolific food
blogger, you didn’t think I’d blog about tats?
Ha!
Everything and everyone is possible
food for my blog--so belly up!

What makes someone entrust their
tender, unmarked skin to a virtual stranger?
The tattooer looks at the tattooee
and sees a desert of unclaimed skin--
soon to be a work of art.

With my luck, the needle would clog
and spit out a series of connect-the-dots.
Anyway, if I saw a needle pointed at me,
I’d scream and run the other way.
Besides, a person needs a good, firm
stretch of skin for the artist’s jabbing.

I’m more like lemon meringue, kind
of soft and fluffy, but I’m working on
it. I hope to be firm as a scone soon…
Colin, see what your food blogs do to me?

Getting back to inking up…
I couldn’t and wouldn’t think of letting
Drago, Bronk, or Helga poke me with a needle.
No way.
I’d have to be wrapped in mummy cloth first…

I just knew something was up when
Jen thought she did a good job of
hiding her impulsive piece of fish art
from me a few years ago--but not for long.
I have the special gift of Knowing...

As time progresses, I hope those tigers,
dragons, fairies and fish won’t mutiny--
collapsing into a valley of sagging, wrinkled
skin--along with fallen arches…
Heh-heh…

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…

Who's Knocking...?

I read an article recently about brand
names being used in blogs. Apparently the
FTC can come after bloggers if any brands
such as Crest, etc, is mentioned.

Yep, as of Dec 1, 2009, new laws went into
effect about so-called endorsements.
The FTC considers any mentioning of
brands by bloggers as possible endorsements
dispensed with company backdoor free samples.
‘Paid’ endorsements must be stated in the blog article.

Ha! I’m looking over my shoulder, and don’t
see any funny men in strange FTC suits with
Yosemite Sam mustaches and Hercule Poirot
comb-overs…yet.

So, if I write that I love my new pair of Dr. Scholl’s
sandals, please don’t come after me--I bought
them at ‘Wally World’--and no--Walmart
doesn’t give me any freebies…

Maybe I shouldn’t mention that Twizzlers
gave my friend heartburn, and needed to take…

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..

Don't Box Me In...!

One corner of the computer room
is boxed in--with a slowly dwindling stack of
cardboard boxes and tubes of different lengths.

The smell of fresh cardboard still lingers
a bit in the room--I prefer the smell of
freshly baked walnut brownies…

Ebay has hooked Jen and Paul--sort of
a seasonal virus that hits when the new
master fishing catalogs begin stuffing the mailbox.

Questions start spinning my way: ‘“Would you
have a box to fit the fly reel?” ‘
Or, ’ “would you have a PVC tube that
would be long enough for a 6.5’ rod? “ ’
My print tubes are only 2 feet long…

How about selling a book, or a pair of earrings?
With two fishing nuts, tackle gets bought,
used a couple of years, then sold to make
room for the newer, flashier and more technical
equipment. Paul now has Abel reels with fish
scale motifs painted on them…

Wouldn’t it be easier to get a pet hamster or
some mice? No hassles, they take up little room,
don’t have to be hosed off, and they’re pretty crafty--
when they want to run off, they don’t require postage--
they can just pop the cage door open…

Whatever Happened To...?

Calling all geeks, braniacs, hulks, and
ex-cheerleaders! Canoga Park High School’s
class of ‘65 is kicking the 45th reunion
into high gear this year.

I won’t be there.
My geeky senior picture won’t surface into
the ‘ha-ha, you looked funny’ zone.
It was taken early in my junior year, unfortunately.
I was totally different by the time I graduated.
Unfair!

Reunions are no doubt a blast from the past.
I wouldn’t know--I’ve never crossed into the
Time Machine and gone to even one of them.

I imagine the event will be filled with sideline
glances, assessments and offside remarks:
‘Good grief, what happened to her'?
'Bill was such a hunk…’

Amid memories of starched, skyscraper hairdos,
ex-tarts fired up with post-hickey-Monday-
morning locker room stories, who ran off
with whose wife or husband, and who made it
to the silver screen: Mike Larrain [Rosemary’s Baby]
and Barry Cutler [Dynasty], conversations will be
peppered with fond memories.

I have fond, coming-into-my-own memories of my
senior year: Columnist on The Hunter’s Call, Steering
Committee member, editor of Horizons, our literary
chapbook, Writer’s Club president, co-coordinator of
Journalism Day, and off-key member of the Folk Singing Club.
Those were the days…

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...

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.

Fitness Flapper

I threw out the last of the holiday eggnog.
Sad. I really enjoy the few weeks from
Thanksgiving to New Year's when eggnog
is almost flying off the shelves--luckily,
a few flew to my house.

Now, I have to admit, I can see a little
bit of “eggnog” thighs…
I wasn’t able to exercise to the extent
I’ve wanted to--one excuse being, my eye
surgeon wanted me to take it easy for awhile.

Well, the ‘awhile’ has passed, and I’m
forcing myself to our clubhouse fitness room.
I can't stick my head in the sand any longer...

It’s tough to get rolling--it’s easier to stay
home and roll out pie dough!
But, after assessing the slight under arm
droop too, I’m hauling butt over to the
fitness room, despite the frigid cold walk.

The machines I like to use are open, waiting
for me to decide which weight level to choose.
Let’s see…how about a 20# ? Naw...
I slide the selector into the 40# slot to start.
But wait--I have to warm up!

So, I’m rotating my arms like airplane props,
just as a hulking Hulk walks in--and just
about gets popped by my twirling arms.
It’s him or me, so I eyeball him, slowly
blocking his way, moving backward, then
do a quick launch to my favorite machine.

After a few minutes of several reps, I leave
it to go use the butterfly machine, which
he has set to almost 200#’s. Good grief!
And I had the nerve, the sheer audacity, to
look into his steel gray eyes, short of intimidation?

I adjust the weight level to 40#’s, and finish
after 5 sets . My arms are burning.
I figure in a couple of weeks, I’ll have my
arms and legs back in shape.

Cruiser, our resident duck, has been getting
more exercise than me, doing her laps around
the house, hoping that someone will take notice,
grab the bread, and toss her a few crumpled pieces.

The other day Cruiser flew up to the computer
room window, flapping for Paul’s attention.
I wonder if flapping my arms will work,
and someone will toss me a powdered donut…

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…

Happy New Year

Christmas came and went quickly.
From gift giving--Jen received pink golf
clubs and a pink bowling ball -- Capt.Paul,
new fishing gear--a new decade rolled out
on the heels of T.W’s 16 over par scandal…

Happy 2010! Or is it Two thousand and ten?
That’s the debate right now, as absurd
as it is. I’m not resolving to do anything,
since resolutions are easily broken.

I have a lot to look forward to in 2010:

*My brother Mike’s visit--watch the alligators, bro!

*The upcoming Wildlife and Wildlands
Art Show at Delnor-Wiggins State Park--
I’ll probably freeze my keester off.
This is Florida, right?

*My Cali friend, Sonia coming to visit, maybe
moving here: Champagne for sure, Sonia!

*Having wonderful email and phone conversations
with Sonia http://gutsywriter.blogspot.com,
and my new New York blog friend, Delores, soap maker
extraordinaire http://daisysoapgirl.blogspot.com, and
yakking with Mike and the family.

*Enjoying fellow blogger and amazing cook, Colin Ogg’s
blog : http://ifyancancookyoucantoo.blogspot.com
*With my improved vision, photographing
the beauty around me.

I’m hoping that 2010 will bring jobs to my kids,
good health and happiness to my family and friends,
With enthusiasm and inspiration I wish a
Happy New Year filled with promise and
Joy to you all…