Home again

Sunday morning, it is gray and cool, November and I sit here doing my favorite Sunday morning ritual.  I just finished my bowl of oatmeal and I am sipping my decaffeinated Earl Grey with milk, Sunday morning with Charles Osgood is on TV.  We are nestled in our little home, our shower, our bed, our kitchen, our little family.  We  had a scare over Harley while we were in Key West, but all was resolved quickly and everyone is happy and together again. 
Key West

We had not even started packing and were rethinking leaving.  The wind blows constantly at this time of year.  I remember the winds in Key West when I lived here, but when you get downtown with all the tall buildings and trees it is a cool gentle island breeze.  Nothing like the wind blowing the palm frond and mangroves along the edge of the island.  And before we left this lovely garden of Eden, the Weather Chanel was warning of freeze here at home.  There was nothing we could do about the freeze, so........well, maybe we should just spend a few more days.......

But with all that Key West has, it is more than we want. 
More people
More colorful people of talent
but that only draws in more people
The weather was hot and humid and
miserable
We would hop on our bikes and take a little ride down town and the weather was perfect. 
The breeze, sunshine, blue skies and glorious water moderating the temperature of the isle of bones
It is not for everyone, the humidity was 84 - 98%
and in the winter when temps drop into the 50s and 60s and the wind blowing 10 -25 knots
it feels very cold

But to be so relaxed in our little trailer on Trumbo Point, a little separated from lots of people, was heaven in this paradise
And we loved it there

Sunset rides over to the Half Shell Raw Bar for happy hour.  We ate conch fritters and calamari every night.  Some nights we would have shrimp or oysters.  The mangrove snappers, parrot fish, Sargent Majors and giant tarpons eating the morsels we dropped over the rail.  Bug said the snappers were just taunting him.  The sun was warm on my back, but the breeze, the glorious breeze bringing all the smells of Key West at sunset would swirl around all the life in, on and around this island.  heaven

We relaxed and rode our bikes.  We would hit a mandatory spot or two.  We ate breakfast in our own kitchen, hit happy hour, and other then that, we didn't worry about it.  I bought two pairs of Kino sandals, one brown, one blue.  They are the earliest style I remember.  Simple, comfortable and inexpensive.  Perfect.

The last day of the races it was windy, again.  The race was held up for half an hour, which we finally heard on a radio because of marine life.  This could be dolphins, manatees or turtles.  Helicopters ride over the race course looking for marine life.  Between the week of the races, wind, manatees, dolphins and now turtles on the last day had disrupted the race.  First there was a herd of turtles that had to be escorted off the course.  They thought they were set, but turns out one turtle refused to leave and would simply dive to the bottom and then pop back up in the same exact spot.  The race would be called off or they would have to move one turn.  As difficult as moving the buoys would be this is a world champion race and they were going to run this last day of racing.  The last day was quite exciting, sort of.  There were four classes of boats running the last race of the last day.  The first to cross the start line were two turbine boats, the next class were the fastest boats without turbines, then the next fastest, closed cabin class, and the last to leave the start were the boats that are open so you can see two bright helmets bobbing and jerking as the boats shoot by us.  One of the turbine boats caught on fire and did not complete the race.  Bug has photos showing them using their helmets to pour salt water on the motor, no other choice.  For over all points in the title, all the other boat had to do was complete the course.  It did not.  Just all of a sudden it just stopped and sat there.  They had to have two boats pull it out of the way of the course.  Another one flipped over, no one was hurt, but it was very dramatic with divers leaping off the piers and out of helicopters.  They had to drag the boat in upside down and flip it over at the cranes that pull these monsters out of the water and deposit them on their trailers.  All the trailers, the tractors pulling them, the back up vehicles all painted to match the star of the show, the boats.  No, boats is not the correct word for these giant hybrids of boat, plane, rocket and motor.  All in all only 4 boats survived the day.  No one, including marine life were hurt in relation to the super boats world championship races.  They were exciting and the more we learned about the rules and how the game is played it became even more fun.  A great way to spend three days in Key West.

But now it was time to go home.  We missed home and our little family.  We managed to get the boat out fishing twice.  We didn't stay too long the second time because of the wind and chop.  The first trip he caught a 4 foot nurse shark.  We are much clearer on the size after going to the aquarium where they feed sharks that looked just like his, size and all.  I loved all the iguanas stretched out on the docks, sea walls and mangroves sunning themselves.  They were bright colored oranges, green and blue.  They were magical and appeared to be social hermits, tolerating their neighbors, but not really interacting other then as needed.

We made sure we got in all the required photos and places to go, but there were just too many people and we longed to be here where it is quiet. We took advantage to ride the bikes over most of the island.  We did not go up to the A1A side of the island, the wind was not fun to ride in.  I have not ridden my bike in a very long time.  It felt wonderful stretching my legs in the sun and getting to places on our own.  We felt like we belonged in this climate, this way of life, but we have so many places and things we love in our life.  It felt good to come and visit, but time to go home.

We packed quickly on Wednesday and got out much earlier then we had planned.  The bed was not comfortable and small, we longed for our own bed at home.  It made it through the Keys and into Homestead around noon, so we thought lets go a little further.  But as the roads filled with more and more cars, we just wanted to get far enough away to leave all the people behind.  We didn't stop for fuel until Ellenton, near my home town.  I was dressed in Key West clothes, light cotton wrap around skirt and a light weight sleeveless sweater, and the lightest of all possible sweaters.  Opening the doors of the truck the cold was shocking to the system that had adjusted just fine to Key West's warm climate.  We left the keys in the upper 70s and now it fell to upper 40s and low 50s. 

Have I ever mentioned that I am not found of cold weather.  Cold weather as in under 70 degrees.

We made it to Spat's and I could not go any further.  This is a first for me.  I packed the kitchen and cleaned up and packed things from the house, but he loaded the bikes and the back of the truck, hooked up and secured the Ms K, and then packed the inside of the truck.  He had driven the whole way and I know he tried as hard as he could to get me home, we were both unable.  We had not slept well on the bed at Trumbo point.  We had been very active during the day walking, riding the bikes, out on the boat, and in the sun on the pier for the races.  We also ate and drank differently than when we are home.  All in all our spirits were soothed and our physical bodies realized that we were tired.  Very, very tired.  We got to Spat's and with in an hour I was down for the count.  I was as tired as I have ever felt.  And I laid on the bed, and did not have the ability to walk to the bathroom, help get my bag or help to secure our belongings.  I did not even have the energy to get my meds and take them.  I hurt and my body just stopped moving.  I laid there with my mind aware of how tired I was, but as usual my mind was not repentant for wearing myself out.  The colors and light of Key West filled my mind.  Music and the sound of water slapping against boats quieted me.  And as I laid there remembering the happiness of being there, I had no regrets for the consequence of my action.

My darling husband took care of me and I slept that night, the sleep that I had been denied in the very small bed.  I was still too tired to move, so the guys went out to the hunting area and put out corn and sat in tree stands and do whatever people do when they go hunting.  They came back feeling successful with the time they had spent that day.  I was anxious to be home, but it was wonderful getting to spend time with this long time friend.  We made it home leaving early the next morning and since we have been here I have pretty much been resting.  I feel like a sloth, but I am paying more attention to what I feel.  I am bad about not noticing discomfort and instead clench my jaw and pretend that I am fine.  Resting has been good for many reasons.  And really what a wonderful life I have.  I got to go play in the Keys with my honey and now I am home and have the ability to rest and take it easy.

I did go to see Arsenic and Old Lace last night at the Monticello Opera House.  Carolyn, Mary, Rich, Jan and I all sat together on one row.  A row of Stage Company old timers.  It doesn't seem that long ago when we were the new comers to the company.  Judy, the Director, sat behind us.  It was wonderful.  I love that play.  I love the silliness, the cleverness, the story as it unravels through the night.

The cast was perfect.  Everyone blended very believably in their parts, and it was a beautiful community theater production.  Let me clear here, I find that one of the greatest compliments.  Our community over flows with talent, seriously, musicians, actors, artist, of all mediums, chefs, dancers, singers, seriously, this is an amazing community.  It seems like there is a never ending turn over of the actors and companies.  But that doesn't always mean that to fit the right person into a part might not be challenging and require the adaption of the script.  That is part of the magic of community theater.  We had two young ladies on the crew who have been part of cast and crew for many play on that gorgeous stage.  I heard wonderful things about what a wonderful job they did and captured the hearts of the rest of the cast and crews.  I am so very proud of these two young woman. 

It was closing night, and I was sitting in a row with my friends.  Friends that I have shared the stage with before. Friends that I love as much now as I did when we were more in each others lives.

The cast were happy and easy and natural.  It is a fun play, and the cast seemed to enjoy each other and the script and had become a family from a play.  One of my most favorite families of all those I hold in my heart.  When a cast clicks together and enjoys playing with each other and form that bond that sees us through each rehearsal and performance, opening night and closing night, contagious viruses and time constraints.  And yet as we sat there in the audience watching this performance it was fun, it was funny, it was well acted and was wonderful.  Simply, marvelously wonderful.  I loved all the characters, the timing felt smooth, the playing was real.  These people were enjoying every moment.  And so did we in the audience.  Job well done everybody!!!  I loved being there, I loved watching friends and new members alike dance across the boards I love so much. 
 
A perfect night with loved ones
doing something I love

My Sweetie happy at home with college football streaming across the TV
Immersed back into the community I love so very much.
Happy from our time gone
Happy from seeing my friends from my young life
Happy from being at a place that I was young once
Happy from spending time with my family

life moves on
I appreciate the time I have with my family
I appreciate the time I have here quietly at Labrun

Today was garden club.  I love going to garden club, and this is the November meeting where we string popcorn, share wine and food.  We talk and enjoy each other's company.  I love this meeting.

Carolyn called to give me a little boost to go.  I really appreciated it, but I pushed it too far already, and now I must rest.  It could be thought as my "punishment" for living my life as if I would live forever.  I don't think of  it as punishment, but as another opportunity to accomplish other tasks.  I have straightened up the house, baked beer bread, caught up on the wash, spent time with my chickens and dogs.  I have left my quiet to attend a play.  A play I wanted so much to see.  A play that more then filled my expectations on every level.  I enjoyed sitting in the dark and laughing with precious friends, and I was happy to get back home, close the gate and slip once again into a quiet place that I can relax and heal.

I have chosen this life and this approach to my life, be considerate of both, spirit and body.  Choices give you knew choices, choose your "consequences" from your actions.  They could be challenges, or wonderful.  Maybe more based on how grateful I am for being aware of the life I have had and the life I am living.  The future will unroll each day.  I am focusing on all the happiness I have shared in my life. 

We are home.

I have hugged and seen some very precious people, and there are others I miss and will see soon.

We are home, and the animals seem very happy to see us.

Life is about home again
about healing
and laughing
and coming home

 
 

Key West

My worlds are crashing in my head in so many ways.  First returning to Palmetto and my family home, now my youngest brother and his families home.  My bedroom for 58 years, now my precious Christopher's bedroom. 
my sweet family.

Then the reunion and seeing my dear precious childhood friends, happy and successful in their lives.
So happy

Then the drive south.  I haven't been this way since moving to Monticello.  We stayed in Homestead one night and then the drive down US 1 heading to the end or the beginning of the highway that runs from here to Maine.  I have driven most of that highway in my life.  I have started in Key West driving north. I have been almost to the end in Maine.  I ate my first lobster roll in a little stand in Rhode Island on US 1.  I have been in the Green Parrot.  They brag they are the only bar in Key West on US1, I am not sure if that is correct, but if it makes them feel special, OK.  I am a Florida girl.  Born and raised here, the east coast.  US 1 was here before any other that I remember, and travelling south on that highway stretching across the water, the Gulf on one side, the Atlantic on the other.  Bug and I travelled it again, smiling and reminiscing each stories to the other. 

When I lived here 35 years ago I was a school teacher, a clown, a desk clerk at a resort and a social worker.  As a social worker I drove with a fellow social worker up to Marathon once a week.  Sometimes it took us an hour, sometimes we would sit on the bridges for hours, stuck in a parking lot of traffic with no where to go. 

Now as we drove south, memories washed over me like the green blue crystal clear water washes over the coral and fish.  The Loralei, Outdoor World, Bud and Mary's Marina, now famous because of the TV show, Islamaroda Fish Company, 7 mile grill, Green Turtle Inn, place after place that are a part of me.  We stopped and fed the tarpon at Robbie's marina.  I giggled like a little girl as the silver giants swept through the water grabbing our dead white bait we paid $3 to feed them.
Places gone
places still there.
life goes on.

We are staying at Trumbo Point.  When I lived here it was Navy housing.  Now it is part of the NWR where retired military people can come and rent a condo, a 2 bedroom mobile home or bring their own RV or tent.  It is a first for me.  I used to have a friend who worked at the same school as I did and lived here.   So I had been here, but had never had access to this part of the island. 
Pretty amazing.

We took the Ms K out on Thursday.  It has been crazy windy here, but we had a bit of a brake on Thursday and slipped out between storms.  We went completely around the island.  Most of it was a little choppy and windy, but very doable, but.....

as we took the turn around the southwestern side of the island, where the Atlantic and Gulf meet it was very choppy.  Okay, maybe choppy is an understatement, but the Ms K handled it just fine. 

Out of nowhere there was this loud roaring noise that filled the air around us, and whoosh at warp speed went one of the cigarette boats.  It is the Super boats races here this week.  These boats, even the small ones make Ms K look small and slow.  This boat was probably 50 yards away from us and I think it might have been travelling at Warp 3, I am not sure.  It was loud and over whelming, but thank goodness for us, not much wake.  In the 20 minutes it took us to get around that corner we were passed by 3 different massive warp speed boats.  The last, the Broadco couldn't have been 10 yards away from us.  He came out of nowhere, passed us between the shore and our Ms K.  We were trying to keep close to the rocks bordering the shore without running aground, and that crazy person must not have seen our 19 foot Carolina Skiff with a T-top.  Come on, we are not that small.  We were left deaf and stunned as the crazy person warped around us on the wrong side and disappeared in a rooster tail. 

We made a bee line out of the area of play.  Some may say they were practicing, no, they were playing.  Running fast, no rules, just flat out running over a hundred miles an hour.  We made it around and out of the area and continued our trip as we headed up the Gulf side of the island.  We saw wooden schooners under full sail, speed boats, dinghies, jet skies, kayaks,  centuries of water craft all blended together bobbing on the green water.  Fish swam below us, tarpons, mangrove snappers, parrot fish, pin fish and Sargent majors.  Rays dark and silent seemed to fly through the water, their entourage of fish scurrying along with them.  Man of war jelly fish bluish with the pink 4 leaf clover and the tentacles barely visible trailing around them.  Poisonous stingy pain bubbling past the boat. 

My favorite of the birds is the white phase Great Blue Heron.  The only place they are found in the world is here in the Keys.  We saw egrets and herons, ibis and osprey.  Trees and vegetation that I used to know every name, now still familiar, but the names not always on the tip of my tongue.

As Bug fished in a quiet little mangrove inlet a biplane flew over head accompanied by para sails, navy jets, Airlines, private planes of every size and shape, helicopters, blimps, prop planes pulling advertisement and then a roar from the sky and a large gray plane plodded above us and then large gray round parachutes dropped out of the back end into the sky.  Even with all the things I had seen in the sky from birds to every kind of man powered  instruments, my mind would just not wrap around these gray jelly fish giants floating down from the sky.  The water filled with these large gray bulbs, looking even more like giant jellyfish. 

That is Key West, old and new, past and present, rich and poor all mixed together.  Churches and bars nestled amongst the gardens.  Cuban coffee and Starbucks just down the street from each other.  The streets small with the conch houses pressed in close.  Electric cars, antique cars, modern cars, scooters and roaring motorcycles share the road mixed together.  Bicycles with one person, two people or with seats to carry a family and their dog share the road with the infamous chickens.  Bikes of every color and size some with tires as big as motorcycle tires vie for space with pedestrians.  Sober people, drunk people, crazy people, tourist peaking into this world from their very normal life elsewhere.  People born here, some generations reaching back as far as humans have walked on this key of bones, Cayo Hueso.  Others here for a vacation that never left.  Some people here only for the day from a fast cat out of Ft. Myers Beach.  Last night all of this humanity shared the streets with the massive speed boats.  Some of these boats were bigger then the streets and had to be carried on trailers for the parade where they were tipped up to fit through.   Humongous trucks painted to match the boat, pulling these giants followed by the obligatory vehicles with pretty girls, driver and crew.  Tiny smart cars, boats that were cars, a parade Key West Style.  They closed Duval street and parked the boats so that humanity could pass by taking photos and telling stories.

Key West
Mallory Square
Sunset
Duvall Street
Southern Most Point
Captain Tony's

We have gone to 2 of the 3 days of racing, tomorrow will be the last race day.  We watched the races from Truman Naval Air Station from the bleachers put up on the dock there at the base.  Various naval and coast guard associations selling beer, water, mixed drinks and food.  The weather, sunny, in the 80s and breezy.  Each of the days of racing they ran the courses and dealt with the tides, the wind, motors roaring and some blowing up.  We saw one boat run over a metal green buoy and rip it down the middle.  They have helicopters flying above, some with photographers, some with Navy and Coast Guard guys ready to dive into the water to save lives.  They did not have to rescue anyone, so far, thank goodness.

We brought our bikes.  Not conch cycles with the high handlebars and baskets made from anything available filled with beads and stickers, coconuts and painted brightly.  Our bikes have taken us from the Gulf to the Atlantic.  We have been to the beginning of the rainbow, otherwise known as mile marker 0, US 1.  We have visited our favorite haunts and each of us introduced new places to the other. 

So many places still there, so many places gone.  We have visited Fort Taylor, the old fort crumbling and held up with beams and metal poles.  The 2 foot thick cement cracked in two in some places.  History of the military influence here on the island of bones.  Pepe's is still here, a restaurant opened in 1909 claiming to be the oldest continuous restaurant here in Key West.  Chickens wander the streets thicker then cats  The restaurants, art galleries and tourist shops are filled with homages to chickens.

I have bought 2 T-shirts with chickens on them.

Key West is the home of the Hemingway cat
rainbows
gardens overflowing with flowers and foliage that makes
my heart soar like the tiny yellow finches that flit and chirp everywhere

People literally of every color imaginable cohabitate on this island, famed to be 2 miles by 4 miles.  The people here are as bright and colorful as the tropical foliage
some times of the year, literally rainbow colored skin
and not all of them live here
it is magical here
colorful

sweet warm sunshine
windy
colorful
flowers
conchs
chicken
birds and fish
and
life
overflowing
overwhelming
I feel my clock even more here
This year has been filled with past, present and future
all crashing into each other
in some of my most beloved places
places that hold pieces of me
places that hold people I love
places with stories and memories
and for me
so very
very
special

Key West

Key West was always a place I belong

The Stories go on

The most wonderful thing I learned at the reunion, is that our stories go on.  We asked each other about our lives, kids, work and adventures.  Tell me your stories.

We talked about friends no longer with us, or who we don't know where they are, or for those who simply were not there with us on this weekend.  Bill got up and talked about Harry Rife, who was not with us.  Billy (sorry, everyone called me Kathy and I kept calling you Billy) has written and PUBLISHED a couple of books of his stories of life.  That is so cool, especially for me, someone who has always dreamed of publishing a children's book.  Bill got up and talked, in his uniquely funny self, about a life changing moment with Harry Rife.  It was sweet and beautiful, and opened all of us there into feeling comfortable to tell stories never told before.  Whether our fellow classmates were there or not, did not matter, the stories were told as if everyone was with us. 

They were with us.

They were as alive and vibrant as if they had walked into the room with a big grin on their faces.  I will never really be gone.  No, I have managed to leave many stories. 
Many, many stories

Many embarrassing stories.  I was a cymbal player in the marching band.  We had like a dozen flute and twice as many clarinets.  Way too many for the size of our total band.  Deb played the tenor drum, I played cymbals.  I fell down the band stairs I think weekly.  My knees to this day still do not tan properly from scraping the skin off too many times.  I split my right eye open spinning these giant brass cymbals for the National Anthem.  It was for the Southeast game, and it was Thanksgiving weekend.  I don't remember where Mother and Daddy were, but we had no signature from them to go to the hospital, our regular doctor and backup doctor were out of town, so our neighbor, the Veterinarian to sew me up.  He did a fine job, but the jokes about rabie shots were pretty funny. 

I come from a family of story tellers.  I grew up in a class that gathered stories.  We have some very fine story tellers in our class, like Bill and Frank, and myself, if I can be so brave to put my name  in with them.  Stories are energy, and we could power the world with our stories, if we just knew how.  That is why I love the "Monsters, Inc." movies by Pixar.  Screams and laughter from stories, etc. power their make believe world.  Stories can energize an older person like my Dad.  He was the ultimate story teller.  Many of his friends said that you could name any word and he had a story.  String, rubber band, mustache, dog, cold, whatever, he had a story.  And he had a style to his stories that made them even funnier and more special.  My big brother Rob, is also a story teller in the style of my father.  As Dad got more and more lost he did not stop telling stories, he just needed help remembering some of them.  He and I would be some place and he would order his ice tea.  "On the rocks...." at the end he would look at me, I would say, "no salt on the rim" and he would repeat me.  "stir, don't shake", repeat and so on.  He would also do that with more of his jokes and longer stories, so the person held prisoner out of respect and kindness would hear things twice.  It really wasn't funny, but yet, it was funny in that he acted like this was perfectly normal, and there was always laughter and smiles.  My older brother started picking up more and more of my Dad's stories.  After all, he had been in fireman and EMT while Dad was, so had experienced many of Dad's stories first hand.  Rob was kind and would let Dad throw in comments, while he kept the story going, generally, in one direction. 

Stories
I think animals have stories also
I know that Bob knew Maggie, Harry and Lily, my first three labs, and he seems to have something about him that came from them
Edna knew Harry and she has a little
Harley will learn from Bob and Edna
They will make their own stories
Yes, I am aware they are dogs
but I still think they have memories
and stories

Here is a new story.  Well, maybe it is an old story with a new chapter.  Yes, that is better.  When I was in high school there was a guy in our class, Sean.  He was very nice and funny.  He, like Vicki and I often did things that the "normal" kids in our class would never have thought of doing.  He was tall and I don't even remember if he graduated with us or not.  I always thought he did.  But he wasn't at the reunion, so I am not sure.  I have lots of stories, funny ones from high school, and I assure you, that Sean is in some of them.  So how is any of that new?  I received a comment on my last blog from a Sean.  I hope it is him, you, oh, this world of ether can be confusing to me.  Anyway, I write this for myself, but Sean, if it is you, let me know.  I would love to talk to you.

One last story and then I shall leave the past for now.  When I was in 7th grade Frankie gave his watch to Jennifer to give to me to "go" with him.  I put it on and walked back to him, with Jennifer and he kissed me.  A sweet gentle, first young puppy love kiss.  I remember Jennifer's face being almost as close as Frank to me.  Frank and Jennifer did not remember the story the way I do.  Jennifer came up to me and asked me why I never told her about kissing Frank.  I told Jennifer and Vicki everything.
everything
OK, there wasn't much to tell
but I would never have been able to experience something like this without telling the two of them
Once I told each of them my memory, they both started thinking about it, and well, maybe we all three now share the same memory, maybe for now
for as long as our memories last
we are getting older kids
and with my chemo brain, my memories are broken and pieced so much of the time
But isn't that part of stories?
They are passed on from one to another
like the game "telephone" (I apparently am in a "" mood, oh well) stories change and grow. 
Some teach lessons
some remind us of events now gone
Some stories are to entertain
stories
energies
humans
animals
maybe everything
do the trees hold and pass on stories
here in Key West I love to stand under the Australian Pines (yes, I know they are mahogany trees, not pines, and yes, I know they are invasive) but in the slightest breeze, they will whisper
swooshing, gossipy noises
stories?
maybe
and the rocks and the water and the air around us?
Do they take in the stories around them?
I feel the warmth of the sun on a hot day held inside the rock and radiating out
I see the water swirl and churn and grow ugly sometimes,
other times, peaceful, calm and gentle as a lullaby
I see the air grow thick with clouds and other times
so blue you can see forever
They all have energy
are they stories?
maybe
without stories, would there be life?
is life simply stories come alive?

All I know is that I am so blessed
my life runs thick and deep with stories
and I am proud to read Bill's stories in the book he traded to me
they are honest, and funny and hard and as true and alive as any memories or stories I have ever read
and I am proud to have had the opportunity to read Frank's stories
the only boy from school that held my hand and I wore his watch, even if it was only for a few days, and over a weekend.
I was young and immature, and Frank understood
Write your stories Frank
stories
I am in Key West and again stories are filling my head with memories as well as new experiences with my honey.
but that is another story

40 Years

Bug and I hooked the Carolina Skiff up to the truck and headed south Wednesday.  We took Moe, our second rooster to Spat in Weeki Wachi.  He has two hens,and 6 hens less then a month old and was in need of a rooster to help with predators and maybe to make baby chicks at some point.  John C Bennett is Moe's father and a very fine rooster.  He is kind to his hens and always makes sure that they have whatever goodies he finds before he partakes.  He treats his hens with respect and makes any intimate moments, quick and easy.  He is twice the size of the hens and has huge double spurs, so it is important that he is gentle in those "intimate" moments that roosters and hens share.  Moe on the other hand liked "it" more then any other chicken I have seen.  He is too aggressive and I discussed it with Spat and told him if Moe is a problem, he might be good stewed. 

We headed on to Palmetto and my 40th high school reunion.  We stayed with my big brother, Rob, his wife, JongAe and their 9 year old daughter, Jessica.  My youngest brother, Tom and his family (Pat, Nathaniel and Christopher) have moved into our family home and are making it their own.  Christopher has what was my bedroom and he has made it his own.  I can't tell you how many times I would open my bedroom door and my room would be completely different.  New paint, new posters, new window treatments, my stuff all moved and changed.  My Mother did this to surprise me and make me happy.  It always backfired because instead I always felt misplaced and lost.  I hope that I let my mother know that I appreciated what she tried to do for me, but to this day, I am not crazy about surprises.  Opening the door and seeing the room completely different, but the perfect room for Christopher, it was finally that happy, celebration of change my Mother had always hoped I would embrace.  Thanks Mother.

Bug and I managed to get out on the boat a couple of days.  It was windy and choppy, but we enjoyed our time together and out on the water and in the sun.  Thursday night for Samhein (Sabbach Samhein, everyone) or as most people call it, Halloween we went to Tom and Pat's and sat in the front yard with a fire in their fire pit and ate a picnic dinner and drank wine as the trick or treaters came by in their costumes to get candy.  Bug had bought a gorilla outfit and would jump out of the bushes and scare the kids, they loved it!  Then Nathaniel and Christopher came home from their party at the church and joined in on the fun.  Nathaniel was dressed as a scarecrow with burlap wrapped around his face.  He did not look scary, but he would sit in a chair with the cauldron of candy on his lap and when the kids reached in for their sweet treat, he would grab their hands and I think some of them may have literally wet their pants.  They loved it!!.  It was the best Halloween I can remember. 

Friday night was the Senior night at Palmetto High School (PHS), the Tigers playing the Braden River Pirates in a champion playoff High School Football game.  My youngest brother, Tom's oldest son, Nathaniel is a Senior this year, so is my other nephew, Desmond Brown.  They had a special ceremony before the game with the seniors escorted across the field with their family.  They were recognized for their high school achievements and cheered on by family and friends in the stadium.  It was a wonderful time, and my first glimpse of many of my classmates who had come to the game to celebrate our 40th anniversary of graduating, and from the time we had once walked across that same field in front of those same stands.  It was one of those moments where you feel the roots, the connections, the ties that hold together our community.  Over miles, over years, over lifetimes, we shared our childhoods, our young lives as we grew and prepared to take our place in the world.  Many of us had gone to school since kindergarten, others grew up in the same church, or the one across the street. I think there were about 140 in our class.  There are about 105 of us left, some of those MIA. 

Sixty of us gathered Saturday night, with our spouses or friends, or family.  We came together at the Bradenton Yacht Club.  The Bradenton Yacht Club is in Palmetto, not Bradenton.  But you can see Bradenton across the river, so maybe that is the reason for the name.  Bug and I walked into the room, I think we were late, but I mess up time all the time, so I was not worried.  Everyone was milling around, laughter and talk filled the air around me like oxygen and I was sucked back into the flock of my childhood friends.  I saw a few people I recognized immediately, but there were others, I was sure of.  So, with my typical timidity (hee hee) I started walking up to people and showed them my name tag, so they could see my Senior picture and said, "I was Kathy Miller."  This would then cause them to hold up their name tag and tell me their name.  We would ooh and aah and hug and tell each other how happy we were to see each other and how good they looked.  We were telling the truth.  I have to say I was so happy to see how wonderful everyone looked. 

They had one of those photo booths where it takes the 4 pictures on a strip of paper.  I have always wanted to do that with my sweet Bug, so here was our opportunity.  We started to go into the booth, not too many people had tried it out yet, but the guy in charge asked us if we wanted to put on some props.  Props?!?!  I love props.  We scurried around the corner, I picked out a bug hat and Bug picked out some Grocho glasses and a dragon hat.  We took 3 silly pictures, and then the last one, we did just sort of our normal.  When we stepped out, the guy told me that they would print out two copies, one for us, one for the memory book.  I went out and grabbed my Jennifer and drug her to the booth.  We choose pink cowboy hats and stepped behind the curtain.  Then another classmate was walking by so we drug him in, and then another classmate stuck her head under the curtain and we drug her in.  Then I went out and grabbed a few more friends and literally drug them into the booth.  Three of them were on the reunion committee.  We stood there smiling at the camera and looked like a "normal" photo.  I was like "really??"  This is not how I want to be remembered so we tried to be a little more goofy, then we did peace signs and then it got a little crazier and our photos were done.  I took them with out even looking, saying that I was dying first, so I got to get the photos first.  They didn't argue.  Jennifer laughed, the others just smiled and shook their heads.  I then started grabbing people at random in groups of four and shoving them in front of the prop table and then lining them up outside the booth.  It took off on its own after that and people started having so much fun crowding into the booth together and being the silly happy people we were in high school.  The booth guy made some comment to me about appreciating how things were going, and I said that the Reunion Committee did all the work and organized the reunion, it was my job to make sure we were silly and had fun.  That is sort of the part I have always played.  I am not the biggest or best organizer, but I do love to have fun and sharing it with my sweet precious loved ones. 

It was a wonderful night.  It was full of thankfulness, humility, joy, humor and honesty.  Things like drugs and who dated or whatever when we were young was common place in our years at high school, but not all of us partook in everything, or even in most things, but now we have 40 years of life experience and our outlooks have changed, and we can actually be honest and talk about it now.  One of us, Bill Manning has written two books.  He signed and gave me one.  It is stories from his 35 years of fire fighting and EMT work.  He is still as funny and wonderful as he always was.  We have a lot of people with their PhDs in our group, especially woman who now are principals and the people involved in educating the future generations.  I am so very proud of each one of them.

It was the first time I say Darlene since we graduated.  Darlene and Jackie were the two of the first black children sent to our white school.  We were in 6th grade, and I remember Darlene and Jackie because they were in our class.  I didn't know the other kids as well in other classes.  But Darlene and Jackie were precious and fit right into our group like they had been with us since kindergarten.  A couple of things had happened with Darlene and I and I had never ever talked to her about them.  Mostly because I didn't know what had happened with the first one when I was in school with her, and the other involved dating and I wasn't able to talk to her at that time.  So I managed to get her aside to talk to her at the reunion.  When we were in 6th grade Darlene, Lisa and I were all playing at a football game at the high school.  My Mother walked up and in a very strict and strange voice she ordered Darlene to return to the stands to her parents and to sit with them and stay there, not to leave her parents again during the game.  Darlene ran away to her parents, then she looked at Lisa and I and told us to immediately go to the stands and sit with Lisa's parents and not to leave the stands again, and she would come to get me when she was done with working in the concession stand for the band.  I was devastated, humiliated and so confused.  My Mother had never been prejudice.  We were not misbehaving, we had just left the concession stand and heading back to the stands.  I didn't understand.  My Mother would say no more, I didn't bring it up again.  Well, until after college and then one day when we were out to lunch it somehow came up.  I asked her, and she told me she remembered it quite clearly and had wondered if I would ever ask her about this situation.  It seems that after we had left the stand some men had come over and told my mother that Lisa and I had no business playing with Darlene and they would kill her and teach us a lesson.  My Mother did not argue with them.  She simply told them she would take care of it.  She was terrified.  The nation was struggling with so many issues and she only thought about the safety of "her" three girls.  As far as I know she never spoke to anyone about this, including my father.  I think she was worried that if she said something that my Dad would have gone to talk to the men (animals, might be a better word for them).  It was not that Mother was not embarrassed by the situation, she was, but her only concern was for us.  I think she was worried if they were approached they might have retaliated against another black child, and she did not want to take a chance.  As far as I know they never hurt anyone, but I have walked around with that in my heart for so long.  Finally Darlene knows.  I told her that my Mother loved her and was worried for her.  Darlene looked at me and said that she knew that my Mother loved her, but I could still see the moment of fear in her eyes when she remembered back to being a child.  I don't think she remembers the exact moment.  I only do because of the "secret" Mother and I shared.  I never played with Darlene at any other game.  I never remember seeing her at another game until we were all in high school. 

The other time I needed to talk to Darlene about was when she had dated a guy in high school.  He had gotten me caught in the middle and I wanted to tell her my side of the story.  She did remember him, and we both laughed at the fact that we were so young and ignorant then.  A few shared moments of teenage angst shared with someone I went to school with from 6th grade until graduation.  A beautiful woman with a voice of an angel.  Jackie also had an amazing voice, and was cute as a bug and skinny as I was.  I loved those women like I love all the other people from my class, and this weekend we opened our hearts and souls.  We made confessions, we reminded each other of good times and bad.  We shared secrets that had laid hidden in our hearts for decades, but in the light of time, these secrets finally told brought us all closer together.

This morning Bug and I were heading to the class brunch at the Yacht Club.  We had not planned on going, but I had had so much fun Saturday with these dear precious people, and we would have to eat breakfast somewhere, so might as well go to the reunion.  We loaded up in the truck to head over and the truck would not start.  The batteries?  The starter?  Please let it be the batteries, pull them out, put new ones in, good to go.  Nope, it was the starter.  We borrowed Rob's truck, got Christopher and headed to the brunch.  There was only about 25 of those from the previous night showed up, but it was wonderful to spend that last few moments together.  I left and hugged everyone, they hugged me back like they might never see me again, which is very possible for some of them.  One, Joe, he grew up a block away from us and when I left he hugged all the air out of me.  I had lots of long, hard hugs.  Hugs meant to say, "I love you" hugs meant to say , "Goodbye"  I may not see some of them ever again.  I wished them all a very happy life.  I said I had had a happy life.  They hugged me to live.  They hugged me because we are all part of the same.  We were that weird and special class.  The last of the hippies, the last of the wild crazy ones.  We were the last whisper of a time that was passing, and we celebrated who we were and were a strong and mighty force.  We still are, and we looked good.  And we still loved each other as much , if not more then ever.  It was all good.

Tonight we had one more night together as a family.  We met over at Tom and Pat's.  The neighbors, Ron and Nancy and their two kids came over and we had a picnic in the front yard with the fire pit.  We sat around the fire and marshmallows were roasted and stories told, laughter and the murmur of our voices joining with the smoke from the fire and lifted up into the clear autumn night.  The stars above in the ink dark sky twinkled maybe a little brighter by the love and laughter of friends and family gathered together.  No reason, just to be together. 

Tomorrow Bug and I will hook the boat back up to the boat with it's new started that Bug took today to replace, bless his talented little heart, and we will continue our journey south to the Keys.  We will stay in Homestead tomorrow night and then onto Key West in the morning.  We will pick up our precious friend Marty at Boca Ciega Air port.  He will be flying in from NC.  The sweet and precious Shelia will not be able to join us for our little vacation in paradise. 

I am tired, and the discomfort in my shoulders, and my chest, front and back is increasing.  I have had several moments where I struggled for air.  Not a life and death struggle, just like running 5 miles with a bear chasing you struggle to catch your breath.  If I sit down and breath through the discomfort, or try to relax and slow my breathing, I am just fine.  But all the laughing and talking, seeing dear precious friends and remembering those gone, bear hugs and doing too much, and I am really feeling it this evening. 

It is fall back to real time, and we are all once again confounded and fuddled by this time change.  Please stop it, and just let us live with the time the way it is.  I know that "they" have reasons for why they torture almost an entire nation with clock changing, but really, stop it.  We have had enough already.

I got to spend time with My Christopher and get a pedicure with my sister, Patricia.  I got to have a very open heart discussion with so many, and my dear precious Bird and I remembered our friend Debbie who recently died.  Bird had not heard, so we talked about what I knew.  It was good.  We talked about my time, and it was wonderful.  I am happy, I am tired, but my heart is full of joy.  I am heading south tomorrow with my honey.

I am still so amazed at how blessed I am in this life.  All the important things in life, family, friends, love and joy overflow in my life.
I know it
Yes, I know how very
very
lucky my life has always been
thank you
thank you for everything that I have been given in my life.

New Computer

Here I am using  my new computer.  It is not completely set up, but as far as Bug could take it.  We will have to take it back to have my files transferred from my old hard drive to this one.  Bug tried to do it, but this has the new windows operating system and it does not seem to understand my old system, but I am sure that the tech people we bought this from will be able to take care of everything.  One step at a time.  Thank goodness my Sweetie is good with computers and electronic doo hickeys to handle this kind of stuff.  I do not have the patience or the brain power to deal with these things.  Sigh, I love him. 

Friday we drove the truck down to St Marks and picked up the boat getting ready for our trip to Key West.  It was a coolish day (in other words cold for me) but that blue sky that we get in autumn and winter.  It was breezy so we went to the Riverside Café in the boat and had fish sandwiches and then headed up the St. Marks River.  It was a short trip, but perfect. We took the Harley down to St. Marks yesterday for the Stone Crab Festival, and yes, there was eating of stone crabs.  It was beautiful, fun and what a special place St. Marks is.  After the stone crab claws we headed back home with a large smoked mullet safely stowed away that we had bought at Ootz's to watch college football.  There was a block party downtown Monticello, but I had dressed as a wench, or the Mother Mary to give candy out at the Garden Club booth down town, and really I was costumed out.  What?!?!?!?!  Say it ain't so.  Yes, I was tired and was enjoying the football games and was peopled out.

Today after watching Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood, we took the Toy down the scenic Old St Augustine Road, picked up my computer, got some screws for one of Bug's projects and I picked up some stain for a rocking chair I have been working on.  Then we went to Costco "for lunch" and to pick up wine.  Our lunch consisted of tasting the food at the food booths and we bought dinner tonight based on those taste booths.  Some kind of lamb shank for Bug cooked in red wine or something, he enjoys that kind of thing.  Spinach and mozzarella stuffed raviolis for me.  I enjoy that kind of thing.  After Costco we hit Wally world for ping pong balls and yarn and then home for NFL games.  Yep, I love football. 

Yesterday before we left for the Stone Crab Claw Festival we looked around and no Harley.  The automatic gate has been acting up lately and somehow had opened up.  Harley had run.  Bug, Bob and I jumped on the golf cart and headed out calling for our new little boy.  Thank goodness we did not name him Norton.  I would have to have driven around yelling "Norton" out.  Bob got excited and we let him out of the golf cart and he led us to where we found Harley.  Bob was cheered as a hero and he loved every minute of it.  He then ram all the way home showing Harley the way.  We rode along next to them cheering them on.  Those two boys of our are so gorgeous.  Lean, muscled running machine, that what those two labs are.  They raced and stretched out their long legs and ran until they foamed at the mouth.  I think they would have run until they dropped if we let them.  We have been talking to Harley about what it means to be a family.  About how running away is not safe because he does not know what is out there.  He can not know that people would not love him and feed and let him sit in their lap, like we do.  We know he is happy.  We know that Harley loves all of us and we all love him.  But he has not been raised to understand living together as a family.  He knows what it means to be locked up and to run, but not to just be a part of a family of humans, dogs, cats, fish, rabbits and chickens. Maybe he will learn.  He had not seemed to want to go near the gate when we first brought him home.  Now he has found a home he is not aware that he must stay and participate as a member of this family.  That he can not just go.  He is young.   Hopefully he will learn before he leaves one time and we never get him back.  That would break our hearts.  He stole our hearts from the moment we met him.  I see how he looks at Bug.  He adores him.  But he just doesn't understand the concept of "home"

Well, my hair is still blond, but I have not blown dry it since I got home, so it is out of my eyes, and it is not so big, but other then that it doesn't look that different then before.  I don't mind.  I am so glad that it isn't so big and I like the blond.  It is one of the colors my hair already was, so it looks sort of the same, only not so many different colors, now different hues.  I will try and get a picture and post it, but just haven't gotten anything so far. 

It is warming up a bit so that it will be in the upper 70s next week here.  We are heading south and so it should be warmer there.  YEA!!!!!  Have I ever mentioned I do not like the cold?

Got to run.  Things to do, but wanted to make a note of this day.

life with three labs

I don't know what I have done, but I can only write my blog in HTML. I have done something where I can not work under compose, so no spell check, trying to move back and forth between HTML and then the post means that it is hard to correct typos, so when I typed 25 instead of 15, I was not able to get back and fix it once I had seen the typo. So why do I keep torturing people with my posts misspelled, full of typos I simple reread would fix? Well, I guess the bottom line is that I write this for myself and anyone who would like to come and spend a little time on the porch will have to forgive me. To sort of walk around the squeeky board on the porch and just sip some lemonade and not to judge me for my lack of editing. Thank you to those who do that. To those who can not tolerate the grammer and misspelling, please check out Bless Our Hearts. A wonderful blog written by the amazing Ms Moon, and she can spell and use spell check and she is an amazing writer. She also talks about chickens quite often, as I do. We have shared chickens and a life at the Opera House, and she and her darling honey, Zen Glen have always been there for me. They are the kind of people that just scoop you up in their big loving family and just make you feel loved and like you belong and life is just better some how. I realized I said that this post would be about our three labs, and I will get there. The reason I started with Ms Moon is because I called her up a few days ago and asked her for a name of someone who could cut and dye my hair. I have never had my hair professionally dyed. For over 40 years I dyed my hair and when I turned 49 I said enough is enough and went cold turkey. It was not pretty. No, it was not. But I also cut my waist length hair off and all in all everything worked out just fine. Fast forward to cancer, all my hair falls out. That brings me to today when my hair has grown out, thick and plentiful. I used to have fine hair, now it is "normal" hair, lots of body and many colors. So I decided to make another little change. Ms Moon graciously gave me the name of the precious woman who cuts her hair, an appointment made and today was the day. She knew that I know Ms Moon, oh yes, I am not below name dropping, especially when it is Ms Moon and someone coming at me with scissors. We talked and laughed. I think I talked more today than I have for several months. Melisa made some suggestions on style and color and promised not to take anymore off the bottom then necessary. Time flew by and then I put my glasses on and I was a light golden ash blonde with a very put together and simply style do. I looked amazing. I felt like one of those woman from what not to wear when they spin them around in front of the mirror and they see the significant changes made. Some of my hair was exactly this color, now all of it is some hue of it. My hair is styled very much like it was, only shaped up and well, nice. Bug loved it, I loved it. Melisa was absolutely wonderful. She listened to me, kept my needs and willingness to girlify where I am comfortable, which is basically nonexistent and I have a great cut and color I can grow into. Life is good. We then took my computer to the a computer guy to fix. The news wasn't exactly good. We will see what happens there. But life here is once again focused on three labs. Black, yellow and chocolate. Bob and Harley are pretty equal all things considered physically. Edna has shorter legs and is a little chubby so she can get up and go and usually out last the boys, but they run circles around here. I have had to explain to her that she is no longer the baby, but instead is "the girl" a position in my family. The girl. I wish I could describe to you what it feels like to watch those three beautiful creatures, three parts of the same. Each unique, each their own special little creature, but together they become so much more. Bug and I have completely fallen in love with our Harley. BOb and Edna have also fallen in love. The three of them pile up on each other and kiss and kiss and kiss. THose dog kisses where they clean the other's face, teeth, throat tonsils, from either end of the body and so on. They are three happy dogs. Three happy labs living in paradise with four cats who are adjusting just fine. The fish are still a little shell shocked and the chickens are not crazy about Harley running in amongst them wanting to play. He has no malice or desire to eat or hurt them. He just wants to play. He has taken this family of retirees and broken bodies and has breathed life into it. We in return have welcomed him open arms and the mutual love and adoration society of the Tonski's is quite happy.

2 months for good behaviour, Harley, nature, being social and a broken computer

I brought Harley Davidson Tonski home today. He is a 1 1/2 year old yellow lab found in Lamont and taken to the Jefferson County Humane Shelter. We had seen the add in the paper where they announced that a yellow lab had been lost and was at the Shelter for the owner to come and claim. Two weeks, no one had claimed him. Monday Bug had said we should drop by the Shelter and see what was the story about the yellow lab. I was a little anxious. One of the most wonderful parts of my life was when we had Maggierose, Harry and Lily. A black, a chocolate and a yellow lab. My heart is happpy when I look out in the yard and see all three colors playing and loving. Each color has personality tendencies and together it is something very much akin to the joy you feel for children. You know they are dogs, but they are so special, each so different, unique pieces of a puzzle that together are labs. And today as I let Harley out of the truck to the surprise and dismay of Bob and Edna I had all three colors again. That man has to love me more then words can describe. He knew that giving me Harley and all three colors in my life was one of the best birthday presents in the entire universe. Do we need three dogs again? Oh, no we do not. I have mopped the kitchen three times this evening. I finally gave up. Harley immediately discovered the little raised fish/lotus/water lily pond and has been in it 6 times that I witnessed. Fearing for the fish, let alone my plants, I simply walked in the house and closed the door. There is nothing I can do today to prevent him from slipping over the side and into the water like a river otter. Bug will be home tomorrow and hopefully we will be able to secure the pond again. I had to secure it from Bob and again from Edna, so it is natural that Harley a labador, would be any different. Hopefully the Bubba's will forgive me. (I name all of my goldfish Bubba, it is simply easier that way). Since I was in the house that drew Bob and Edna and Harley followed along behind them. Or on them, or in front or around. He is a puppy in lab terms and full of energy. And for someone who just had their fe3rtility clipped yesterday and is supposed to be kept quiet and slow, he is a cheeta. A gazelle, a Harley motorcycle. Full open power, and loud pipes. Bob does not bark or make any noise particularly in the house. He will bark at delivery people, people passing by in front of the house, wildlife that get to close to his territory and other outside diversions that a good watch dog would bark at. Edna and Bug will converse with each other, but Harley is a very vocal child and the cats are not quite sure of this so far. Harley, like Bob is a lapadore. Everyday Bob gets up on Bug's lap in his chair and they have a little one on one time together. Well, move over Bob. Bless his heart, I am not sure he is crazy about sharing laps. Harley gets in mine anytime I drop my guard. He is a sweetheart. He is smart and loving and has huge paws still and he captured Bug's and my heart the moment we saw him. The others will grow used to him. They have been through other animals, and they do just fine. Tuesday I went to see Dr. May. My Pet scan shows the cancer growing and spreading through my lymphatic system. That is what cancer does. I have started referring to my way of dealing with the little "c" as Passive Aggressive. You hear about the method where people "fight" their cancer. They changed diets, they try traditional medicine, they try alternative medicine, they wage war on their cancer. I have chose a different path. I have not given in to the cancer, but I am just not good at hating and fighting. So I have chose to embrace my cancer. To be passive in that I still eat my same healthy diet that I have eaten most of my life, although I do eat more animal protein as the doctor asked. I am a Southern woman and love my fried chicken and bisquits so vegeanism really lasted longer then even I would have guessed as a diet choice. I try to drink plenty of water, but be moderate with a glass of wine at dinner. I try to get plenty of rest, stave active and physical, but not over do it. In other words, I am still trying to live the same peaceful life I have tried to live my whole life. Give back to my community, garden, read, be creative, do yoga, sing and laugh each day. It has always worked well for me. And I still consider that the reason that I am doing as well as I am. Fighting? NO. Cancer is my cells gone rogue. It is me. It is of me and to hate it or fight it would be to hate myself. No thankyou, I am far from perfect, but I am happy with myself. The aggressive part comes in that I allow the doctors to wage war on my "c" with their WMDs. I feel that is enough fight for all of us. And Dr. May understands and instead of doing whatever it takes to try and cure an incurable disease, she thinks about the whole me and what is best. My blood numbers were the best ever, again. And were actually as good as any normal healthy person. Wooooohoooo! My live numbers are also better again. Only one number was out of line. Red wine to build the blood, beets to cleanse the liver. I am telling you it is working for me. And I like my glass of wine and I like my beets so life is good. The Lymph nodes from my throat and chest area (thorax if I was an insect) are starting to light up like Christmas lights as the cancer, slowly mutates and consumes. The cancer has not sped up, it just keeps plodding along, so I get two months off from having to give blood or injected with radiation. I will go back in December and if the blood works is still looking good then we will do another Petscan in January with the blood work to see where we are. I really have very little pain, and most of it could probably be easily passed off as gas caught up in my chest. I look like I am well. But I am tired. Very tired. That is why I didn't go with Bug to Biketoberfest and to visit the precious Hobbie and Col. Bill. Bug rode over on the red Harley and will be back tomorrow. The three of them have been working on the house and then enjoying the bike festivities. They are tired, but sound like they are getting it done. I started out doing too much I guess. I got the guest bedroom/office cleaned up a bit and organizzed again, and the living room and the master bath. I did not get the rest of the house clean, and there is still so much to do. Today I was so tired I basically survived all the animals. Stella freaked out at one point with Harley. They were nose to nose not 5 minutes earlier, now she decided to destroy our world in one wild crazy schophranic moment. She knocked a glass of wine over, she used my left arm as a voulton box and left a deep bloody scratch across my sister heart celtic knot tatoo. The rest of the arm is scratched badly also, but my tat!!!! I didn't even realize I had been hurt until I was cleaning up the broken glass, the wine, a water glass, my crocheting and knitting projects, a phone and all the objects I had been carefully moving from smaller easier to dump tables to one that was strong, secure and behind the others. It was like the mainland with barrier islands I had thought and surely it would be the safest place for breakable items. Well when Stella flew through the air, she landed in the middle of everything so thoughtly and safely put away. As I was cleaning I saw blood dripping and of course assumed it was one of the kids. So I am searching Harley's face. Henry already left a mark, but other then those, Harley was fine, so were Bob and Edna. Stella had returned to the scene of the crime and showed no apparent blood loss, at which time I looked at my arm and had no idea what damage had been done because the entire arm below my sleeve was dripping blood. How is it that you can have a major injury with relatively little loss of blood and a few cat scratches and you think you should call the Red Cross to donate blood, so as not to waste all that is leaving your body. I finished cleaning up Stella's mess. And this is Stella. Yes, Harley startled her, and he is knew, but she had to go out of her way to do the damage she has wrought upon the house. I then went in and washed my arm well and slathered it with antibiotic and tried to remind myself that when they radiated my chest that my peaceful heart tat got burned, but it came through just fine. These are minor scratches and should not scare Vicki's and my 50th anniversary tat of going to kindergarten. We will see, it is not as if I can do anything about it now. We took the boat out on Thurday, the last time we had taken the boat out we rode the Harley down and that day we saw turkey, racoons, aligators, an eagle, osprey, turtles, fish, every water bird you can name and deer. It was quite the day of nature. But it is the season for nature to prepare for the coming season. I talked to Vicki tonight and we are both looking forward to Samhein and the new year. We both hate the cold, but we love the transition from growth to harvest to rest. Thursday we just went out for a couple of hours and the ride was too wonderful. We just headed up the St. Marks at idle speed and enjoyed the warm sunshine and the beautiful world around us. On our way home, it was October 16th after all, we stopped at the Riverside Cafe and placed an appetizer order of stone crabs. Stone crab season opens October 15 and closes May 15. A lifetime ago I helped run 30 stone crab traps. Just ours, and it was alot of work and a long time ago. And even though I am not much of a crab eater, I love the opening of stone crab season. And these were beauies! Well, at first they were deep fried blue crab claws. The first woman who had given us our menus said they had a dinner and an app for the stone crab claws. So when our waitress, who was new asked us what we wanted, we did not look at the menu, we simply said the crab claw app. She was new, and maybe new to the area and did not know to at least ask which crab claw app after Oct 25, but we didn't know they had the blue crabs, and she didn't realize that the stone crabs were in. So she raced by the table and dropped the claws off. I sat there dumbfounded. My brain is not as quick as it used to be, and it stared at the fried blue crab claws and knew that something wasn't right, but I was having a hard time unscrambling everything to understand what I was looking at. Bug started to grab one and made a comment about them being small or something. It was enough to snap me back into reality and I explained that these were not stone crabs, but fried blue crab claws. He looked relieved, he also was confused by the unexpected claws. We were able to corrall the waitress and explain the problem. She said to just eat the blue crab and she would bring us out the stone crabs. After she left we felt bad for not being clearer. It was obviously not our mistake, but this is a costly error and we felt bad for her. Bug whispered that he would pay her for half of the blue crabs also so she wouldn't take as big a hit. But she only charged us for the blue crabs and explained that the bosses understood and that they gave us our stone crabs for free. I have to say they were the best claws I have had in many many years. We left a sizeable tip, and hope that she lets the owners know how much we appreciated their handling of the matter. And we enjoyed the blue crab claws also, but I swear I don't know why anyone would fry those tiny little things. Jan has gone through week one of her chemo, and I got to talk to her and Jack tonight and they both sound wonderful. Jan is tolerating the treatment extremely well so far, and that has Jack breathing a sigh of relief and Jan said she isn't tired yet. I told her it took a while, but maybe it wouldn't be that big of a problem if she is tolerating it so well. I am so happy for her, and wished that I could tolerate the chemo as well as she has her first treatment week. My computer, which of course is not backed up recent enough for me to be able to grab the disk and open the things I need to work on. Not only has it slowed and frozen with so many pop ups and advertising, but the power cord where it connects into the computer has gotten pulled and prodded and so the computer is also dying of lack of energy. I can not open it. It remains black and screams it warning of lack of power if you try and cajole into the little magic box it is supposed to be. I have so many things I have been doing lately that I was want to put down on paper to remember. I have things I need to get done and none of this will happen until I can get it to the geeks to fix it. I miss being able to blog and use my computer. But I am sure that it can be saved I just need to get someone who knows how to hold their mouth right. Last night I put the top down on the toy and drove over to the Hindu Hall in Tallahassee. It is very convienent for me and was a lovely night with the clouds and the moon. It is the weekend of the dance festival and the Hindu families of the area dressed in sparkling wonder gather together to eat and dance together. The outfits bright as jewels sparkle with mirrors and bangles. The woman form dance circles and dance and clap and spin and float around the room as the music slowly gets louder and louder and the rhythm faster. As the musi speeds up over several hours the dance steps become more complicated. My friend George from work's wife, Pia and his two daughters, Isabelle and Amelia were there dressed in Indian garb. The girls were like butterflies around their mother. Because the festival this year falls on a full moon many of the women my age or older wore white sari's. Geeta wore one with delicate pink and blue embrodery on it. Genevieve was there with her one year old, Fin who was also dressed in a tiny Indian outfit. All the woman, young and old were gorgeous and as they moved with the rythm of the music, swaying and spinning, step, turn, step back, turn, step....... Clap, clap, clap and wait, then repeat, they became even more beautiful as the exertions brightened their cheeks, quickened their breath and their eyes shiny with pleasure of the giant spinning circle of color and woman. The men join in and then waunder outside. Tonight the men will dance more. Tonight the room will again explode with color and rhythm and joy. After a few hours they offered a dinner under the moonlight. It was veggie burgers, dopla, potatoe things, chutney's, rice pudding and ice cream treats. We all gathered in large extended family groups and settled into the night grass sitting under a full moon, the sound of rhythm replaced with laughter and children's voices, the soft murmur of older family members and the moving of food to feed the mass of dancers. It was magical and sweet precious Geeta sat there surrounded by her friends and their children was radiant. I had been to a full moon meditation and vegetarian pot luck dinner just a couple of weeks ago at Geeta's It was a small group of us, but it had been so lovely to get to see some people I had not seen for a while. The next night I had met Judy, Denise and Carolyn at the Mexican restaruant for dinner and then Denise had hurried over to the Opera House as the Prop Manager she had a lot of work to do. The other three of us sat in the audience and saw one of the best shows I have seen at the Opera House. Of course the Director did an amazing job with the show, but the cast and crew were just so remarkable. I don't know, maybe I don't get out enough, but I had the best time with Judy and Carolyn and saw a show I had never seen start to finish, and there it was in Monticello at our little Opera House, and it was good. Very good. This past Sunday was garden circle. I love these ladies. It is not that we are that much alike. We have something that holds us together, but we are all very different and different ages, and we keep picking up one or two new ladies a year which more then covers the one or two who need to cut back on something so don't come regularly to meetings, but it is one of my most favorite times of the month. I am so sorry I will miss November when we are in the Keys. It is the Christmas tree decoration meeting where we get everything ready to decorate the Christmas tree at the Opera House. We use all natural ingredients on our tree and it is always the lovliest to me. I hope to be back to maybe help with the decorating around Thanksgiving. Other then that, life starts each morning with the sun and rests at night under the stars. I am able to communicate more and slowly coming back to life again. Bug is in Daytona and I miss him. Harley is here I have all three colors again Bob and Edna are not so sure about this Neither are the cats The chickens haven't noticed and bless the Bubba's I hope they have survived the invastion. It is very late for me, so I will go lay down. I am sore today I am tired today I dudn't get much down around the house, but Harley is here I am unbelievably happy I look down into those three beautiful faces and I almost explode with the joy and happiness of having my three colors back. I miss Maggierose, Lily and especially Harry since he has not been gone that long now. But when I look at Bob, Edna and Harley, I know that I am where I am supposed to be and that in this great and vast universe, there is one woman who will be 58 next Tuesday sitting at a computer with tears of love and joy running down my face as Stellas sits next to me sleeping on the mouse and the three labs nestle around my feet and knowing that my sweetheart will be home tomorrow and I feel like the luckiest woman in the entire existence. Blessed beyond my wildest hopes How can I hate cancer or myself? All of this makes up who I am and tonight I like who I am