Scotch and soda, mud in your eye.
Baby, do I feel high, oh, me, oh, my.
Do I feel high.
Dry martini, jigger of gin.
Oh, what a spell you've got me in, oh, my.
Do I feel high.
Dave Guard ...Kingston Trio.
Actually this post has nothing to do with scotch and soda or being high, but it does have to do with spirits. Besides, I liked that old Kingston Trio song.
Our little five pound poodle, Missy, was willed to us by my husband's aunt, "B," three and a half years ago. B was one of my deceased father in law's sisters and she lived in Denver, Colorado. She had been housebound for five years as a result of emphysema caused by a life long smoking habit. B's husband had died from lung cancer several years earlier. They had no children and Missy was B's only companion since her husband's death.
Missy was the last in a long line of toy poodles that B had, but she often said that Missy was her favorite. About four and a half years ago, we were in the Denver area and went to visit B who was on oxygen at the time. As we sat in her living room, Missy immediately jumped into my lap and I held her. During the course of our conversation, B said that she was very worried about what would happen to Missy when she died. Without thinking, I blurted out, "Don't worry B, we'll take Missy." My husband agreed. B was so happy that as soon as we left, she called her two surviving sisters and my mother in law to ensure that they all were aware that Missy was to be given to us when B died.
One year to the day after we made our promise to B, she died. Her youngest sister drove from Atlanta to Denver to dispose of B's belongings and to pick up Missy. Among the things she found was a letter from B with all of Missy's veterinary records, her papers, and instructions to have Missy groomed before she was to be given to me. B had written that letter only two weeks before she died.
Despite the fact that she was nearly eight years old at the time, Missy made the trip and transition from Colorado to our home in Florida without missing a beat. She is a very adaptable little dog. She loves everyone and is not at all shy around strangers. We also came to find out that Missy is a five pound control freak.
This summer, my husband's sister, her eight year old daughter, and my mother in law came to visit us for a couple of days. Our family loves our liquor, but I only drink beer and wine, and my husband usually stays with beer or wine too. So when they came to visit, my mother in law and sister in law brought their own "snakebite" medicine. Bourbon for my mother in law and vodka and tonic for my sister in law. Vodka and tonic is what both B and my father in law would drink.
As we sat down with our drinks, Missy went crazy jumping in my sister in law's lap and trying to get to her vodka and tonic. She did not do that to any one else. The next night, the same thing happened when we sat down to have a drink. Finally we decided that Missy KNEW the smell of vodka and tonic and probably also knew the taste of it too. I am willing to bet that B shared hers with Missy every evening when she had her vodka and tonic. And so the B's spirit lives in the spirits.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
Back to the Salt Mines
And loving it!
Last week I started back to work again. This is my third go round at my old job.
For more than 30 years I worked long hours and felt very unappreciated. In fact, my last full week before I retired, I worked 50 hours which was not unusual. So when the city offered an early retirement, I jumped on it. My benefits took a huge hit, but finally I was able to relax and to sleep. The first three months that I was retired, I slept ten or more hours a night. I was simply exhausted.
Then after a while, I realized that I missed being a part of a team. Like an old war horse, I could not completely give up the battle.
About a year and a half after I first retired, my old office called me back to fill in for five weeks while a former supervisor of mine was out on medical leave. I was very nervous that first day, but suddenly realized how much I missed the place and all of its people.
I was fortunate that they had money to keep me on and they kept me for 15 months until the money ran out. I really did not want to leave even then.
Well recently I got a reprieve from retirement. My old office called me back again to fill in as a temporary part timer. Three days a week is great. I love it and they love me. I am a cheap hire because they only pay me by the hour for hours worked. No benefits, no leave. I love it because once again I feel productive and appreciated. That is all I could ask for.
Last week I started back to work again. This is my third go round at my old job.
For more than 30 years I worked long hours and felt very unappreciated. In fact, my last full week before I retired, I worked 50 hours which was not unusual. So when the city offered an early retirement, I jumped on it. My benefits took a huge hit, but finally I was able to relax and to sleep. The first three months that I was retired, I slept ten or more hours a night. I was simply exhausted.
Then after a while, I realized that I missed being a part of a team. Like an old war horse, I could not completely give up the battle.
About a year and a half after I first retired, my old office called me back to fill in for five weeks while a former supervisor of mine was out on medical leave. I was very nervous that first day, but suddenly realized how much I missed the place and all of its people.
I was fortunate that they had money to keep me on and they kept me for 15 months until the money ran out. I really did not want to leave even then.
Well recently I got a reprieve from retirement. My old office called me back again to fill in as a temporary part timer. Three days a week is great. I love it and they love me. I am a cheap hire because they only pay me by the hour for hours worked. No benefits, no leave. I love it because once again I feel productive and appreciated. That is all I could ask for.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
I survived Black Friday
Yesterday, the day after Thanksgiving has become known as Black Friday because it is the biggest shopping day of the year.The term Black Friday was coined because the profits of this day help the stores end the year in the black.
I have noticed that every year the shopping begins earlier and earlier. This year most of the big chain stores opened at 5 am. However, some shoppers camped out overnight so as to be the first in the door at some stores. I read in the paper that many shoppers come with a game plan.
Well, I had a game plan for Black Friday too. I stayed home. My husband and I learned our lesson several years ago when we went to Best Buy on Black Friday because they had a great deal on a computer that we needed badly since our other one had died shortly before. At that time, the shopping day began at 7 am and we were there for the opening of the store along with several hundred other shoppers, all of whom seemed to want the same computer deal. Three hours later, we managed to escape the store with our purchase in hand, but our sanity left behind.
Now every store opens at 5 am except for one shoe chain that opened at 4:44 am! Wow, just what I always wanted to do ...... try on shoes at 4:44 am! But I bet some fools do. The latest I read in the paper today is that Black Friday is now being called one of the most popular sporting events in the United States. Well, I decided that sitting on the side lines is more fun than participating.
I have noticed that every year the shopping begins earlier and earlier. This year most of the big chain stores opened at 5 am. However, some shoppers camped out overnight so as to be the first in the door at some stores. I read in the paper that many shoppers come with a game plan.
Well, I had a game plan for Black Friday too. I stayed home. My husband and I learned our lesson several years ago when we went to Best Buy on Black Friday because they had a great deal on a computer that we needed badly since our other one had died shortly before. At that time, the shopping day began at 7 am and we were there for the opening of the store along with several hundred other shoppers, all of whom seemed to want the same computer deal. Three hours later, we managed to escape the store with our purchase in hand, but our sanity left behind.
Now every store opens at 5 am except for one shoe chain that opened at 4:44 am! Wow, just what I always wanted to do ...... try on shoes at 4:44 am! But I bet some fools do. The latest I read in the paper today is that Black Friday is now being called one of the most popular sporting events in the United States. Well, I decided that sitting on the side lines is more fun than participating.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Measure once, cut twice???
My husband's hobby is home improvement projects. Right now we are remodelling our house. Actually we are always in a constant state of demolition, deconstruction, and construction. I literally live in a construction zone where the furnishings often consist of ladders, sawhorses, a reciprocating saw, wet tile saw, and a pneumatic nailer, along with a huge blue shop vac on wheels that I call Robo-Vac. Dust and debris are my constant companions.
In his defense, my husband does really quality work. It just takes forever for him to complete. Amazingly, he is the creative one. But often his ideas come in the midst of construction. His method of construction is what I call build/design. This can be very frustrating at times.
Recently, he had one of those days...you know, the kind where nothing seemed to go right. No fewer than four times did he mis-measure the sheetrock we were hanging. I kept telling him that he needed to measure twice and cut once. Somehow the instructions must have gotten turned around in his mind cause he kept mis-measuring and having to recut his pieces. At the end of the day, he complained about how little he got done....
Sweetheart, listen to your wife. It is measure twice, cut once. NOT measure once, cut twice!
In his defense, my husband does really quality work. It just takes forever for him to complete. Amazingly, he is the creative one. But often his ideas come in the midst of construction. His method of construction is what I call build/design. This can be very frustrating at times.
Recently, he had one of those days...you know, the kind where nothing seemed to go right. No fewer than four times did he mis-measure the sheetrock we were hanging. I kept telling him that he needed to measure twice and cut once. Somehow the instructions must have gotten turned around in his mind cause he kept mis-measuring and having to recut his pieces. At the end of the day, he complained about how little he got done....
Sweetheart, listen to your wife. It is measure twice, cut once. NOT measure once, cut twice!
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Hurricanes and Resilience, Part 3
I often marvel at how resilient human beings are in the face of adversity. When we are hit unexpectedly by an act of nature, we discover just how good our coping skills are. Sometimes we learn just the opposite. Such was the case for me in July 2005. We got hit smack dab in the face with reality. My husband handled it very well, but I did not. It still affects me today. And just when I should have been writing in this blog as an outlet, I quit.
A number of years ago we purchased a small cottage on St. George Island of the North Florida Gulf coast near the town of Apalachicola. Apalachicola has been described as what Key West was before anyone discovered it. Like many barrier islands, St. George Island (SGI) is about 27 miles long, but very narrow and is located about 90 miles from Tallahassee. Given the narrow, winding, two lane roads, it becomes an approximate two hour drive. Some close friends of ours had the house for years, using it as a weekend retreat. When all their kids were out of their house in Tallahassee, they decided to move to this very small house. After one year there, they decided to become permanent residents there and build a larger home on the Bay side of the island.
At the time we purchased our little house about 11 years ago, SGI was mostly undeveloped and populated by a combination of old time residents and weekenders plus a growing number of rental houses, most of which were along the Gulf or across the road from the Gulf. This little house was three blocks inland and on a dirt road with no cable available. Most of the permanent residents lived on these inland roads and the area was so undesirable for investment and rental purposes, that our house and area in which it was located were valued similar to mainland property.
We decided that our goal would be to spend two weekends a month down there. What happened was that we ended up spending nearly every weekend down there plus our vacation time. There were only two houses nearby, both of which were occupied by full time residents. Nearly all the vacant lots around us were also owned by one of the permanent residents. We came to love the quiet and solitude of our little place and would leave immediately from work on Friday afternoon and not return until Monday morning. I would bring my work clothes into the office on Friday and we would leave SGI at about 5:15 am so that I would arrive to my office by 7 am which was my usual time of work.
After I retired in 2001, I began spending more and more time there and eventually we made it our permanent residence. About this time, prices began to rise and more and more huge rental houses were being constructed. Still we felt secure because the lots around us were owned by our neighbor. We had told him that if he ever wanted to sell any of the lots adjacent to us, to let us know. Well, that did not happen and our neighbor sold a block of 12 lots to a developer which included lots in front of us and on both sides. It was only when a "sold" sign went up that we were aware of the sale.
Within one year, the lot to the west of us which had been lower than ours was filled in to a height of more than five feet above our property. Later that year, a huge rental house with a swimming pool was constructed on that lot. Not only did we lose our privacy, but we gained the noise associated with a rental home and parties out by the pool at night. Still the worst was yet to come.
In July 2005, hurricane Dennis threatened the north Florida Gulf coast. Dennis was a relatively weak hurricane (Cat.1 or 2) and its track took it to about 125 miles west of SGI. Apalachee Bay, where SGI is located, is very shallow and therefore vulnerable to storm surges. Forecasters had predicted a storm surge for our area of Apalachee Bay of between 5-8 feet. Most residents of the island remained, but several friends who lived in lower areas went to a rental located in higher area in the center of the island. They brought their boat and a trailer to our house for safe keeping since the base elevation of our lot was 9 feet. And because our house was three blocks inland, it was relatively safe from the predicted surge.
The storm surge from Dennis hit on a Saturday night. The next morning we received a call from our friends telling us to get down to the island right away because our property had sustained major storm surge damage. My husband went down there immediately.
Most of our end of the island from the Gulf to the main road was under water. Our property is another block inland from the main road, but my husband could not get to it because the storm surge had washed away our driveway and left an eight foot deep gully where it once was and along the side of our house next to the big rental house. The front of the property toward the Gulf was fine because the water ran naturally over the land and under the house like it should. However due to the filling in of the lot next door, the water funneled along the side with such a force that it destroyed a natural dune and our bulkhead walls, and created the gulch where our driveway once was. Since the water had to cross the main road which is approximately at an elevation of 12 feet, my estimate is that the storm surge was somewhere between 13 and 15 feet.
I have tried but it is hard to express in words what I felt when I saw this and how deeply it affected me to this day. Everything changed.
A number of years ago we purchased a small cottage on St. George Island of the North Florida Gulf coast near the town of Apalachicola. Apalachicola has been described as what Key West was before anyone discovered it. Like many barrier islands, St. George Island (SGI) is about 27 miles long, but very narrow and is located about 90 miles from Tallahassee. Given the narrow, winding, two lane roads, it becomes an approximate two hour drive. Some close friends of ours had the house for years, using it as a weekend retreat. When all their kids were out of their house in Tallahassee, they decided to move to this very small house. After one year there, they decided to become permanent residents there and build a larger home on the Bay side of the island.
At the time we purchased our little house about 11 years ago, SGI was mostly undeveloped and populated by a combination of old time residents and weekenders plus a growing number of rental houses, most of which were along the Gulf or across the road from the Gulf. This little house was three blocks inland and on a dirt road with no cable available. Most of the permanent residents lived on these inland roads and the area was so undesirable for investment and rental purposes, that our house and area in which it was located were valued similar to mainland property.
We decided that our goal would be to spend two weekends a month down there. What happened was that we ended up spending nearly every weekend down there plus our vacation time. There were only two houses nearby, both of which were occupied by full time residents. Nearly all the vacant lots around us were also owned by one of the permanent residents. We came to love the quiet and solitude of our little place and would leave immediately from work on Friday afternoon and not return until Monday morning. I would bring my work clothes into the office on Friday and we would leave SGI at about 5:15 am so that I would arrive to my office by 7 am which was my usual time of work.
After I retired in 2001, I began spending more and more time there and eventually we made it our permanent residence. About this time, prices began to rise and more and more huge rental houses were being constructed. Still we felt secure because the lots around us were owned by our neighbor. We had told him that if he ever wanted to sell any of the lots adjacent to us, to let us know. Well, that did not happen and our neighbor sold a block of 12 lots to a developer which included lots in front of us and on both sides. It was only when a "sold" sign went up that we were aware of the sale.
Within one year, the lot to the west of us which had been lower than ours was filled in to a height of more than five feet above our property. Later that year, a huge rental house with a swimming pool was constructed on that lot. Not only did we lose our privacy, but we gained the noise associated with a rental home and parties out by the pool at night. Still the worst was yet to come.
In July 2005, hurricane Dennis threatened the north Florida Gulf coast. Dennis was a relatively weak hurricane (Cat.1 or 2) and its track took it to about 125 miles west of SGI. Apalachee Bay, where SGI is located, is very shallow and therefore vulnerable to storm surges. Forecasters had predicted a storm surge for our area of Apalachee Bay of between 5-8 feet. Most residents of the island remained, but several friends who lived in lower areas went to a rental located in higher area in the center of the island. They brought their boat and a trailer to our house for safe keeping since the base elevation of our lot was 9 feet. And because our house was three blocks inland, it was relatively safe from the predicted surge.
The storm surge from Dennis hit on a Saturday night. The next morning we received a call from our friends telling us to get down to the island right away because our property had sustained major storm surge damage. My husband went down there immediately.
Most of our end of the island from the Gulf to the main road was under water. Our property is another block inland from the main road, but my husband could not get to it because the storm surge had washed away our driveway and left an eight foot deep gully where it once was and along the side of our house next to the big rental house. The front of the property toward the Gulf was fine because the water ran naturally over the land and under the house like it should. However due to the filling in of the lot next door, the water funneled along the side with such a force that it destroyed a natural dune and our bulkhead walls, and created the gulch where our driveway once was. Since the water had to cross the main road which is approximately at an elevation of 12 feet, my estimate is that the storm surge was somewhere between 13 and 15 feet.
I have tried but it is hard to express in words what I felt when I saw this and how deeply it affected me to this day. Everything changed.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Hurricanes and Resilience, Part 2
In January 2005, I wrote a piece titled Hurricanes and Resilience, http://bloggingo.blogspot.com/2005/01/hurricanes-and-resilience.html in which I described how well my 80 something year old parents coped with three hurricanes in a less than three month period during 2004. The community in which they live in Central Florida had the dubious distinction of being ground zero for the eye of three separate hurricanes in 2004. When first hurricane left them without power for eight days, I was amazed at their resilience throughtout their ordeal and their steadfast determination to make the best of a very trying situation.
The last couple of years have been among the worst for hurricanes in the Southeast but Tallahassee, in the Big Bend of Florida, has been largely spared from direct hurricane damage. The last really damaging hurricane to affect Tallahassee was Hurricane Kate in 1985 when nearly the entire electrical system for the city was wiped out by fallen trees. The destruction of the city electrical system was so extensive that the day after Kate hit, only one gas station in town was able to pump. Because my neighborhood was in the unincorporated area, it was eight days before our power was restored. Some homes in my neighborhood went as long as eleven days.
Thankfully Kate hit in November, so the lack of air conditioning was not a problem. However, being mostly in the darkness during the entire time we were home was mind numbing. We were more fortunate than most. We had a gas hot water heater which meant we had hot showers. We also had camping equipment to cook with, a lantern for some light, and and a tiny portable tv that we could plug into the car cigarette lighter to watch the news each night. But each morning we would get up in the dark and get ready to go into work in the dark. By the time we got home in the evening, it would be dark again. Luckily we both worked downtown where the power was first restored. Going into work was the highlight of my day.
In the intervening years, the coastal areas had impacts from hurricanes and other storms, most notably Hurricane Opal in 1995 which hit much further west near Destin, but caused major damage to coastal areas in the Big Bend. But because Tallahassee sits about 25 miles inland from the nearest coastal area, it was usually spared. That was until 1994 when tropical storm Alberto moved into North Florida and South Georgia and stalled while dumping massive amounts of rain over the region.
As a result, 14 homes and several vacant lots in my neighborhood flooded with anywhere from one to three feet of water which came in the middle of the night. One of my friends in the flooded area ais that the water rose so fast that they went from a completely dry backyard to nearly two feet of water in less than an hour and a half. Most of the affected residents barely had time to escape their homes and by the next morning, some of them had three feet of water standing in their homes. Since the area was not in a FEMA flood hazard zone, none of the lenders had required flood insurance, and not a single home of the fourteen had flood insurance.
My entire neighborhood pulled together to help these families clean up and repair their homes. Eventually all the homes were repaired, but the cost to the families was much more than financial. Two couples ended up divorcing, several families sought stress counseling for themselves and their children, and several families moved away. Despite the hardships they endured, most of these families recovered from this disaster to resume productive lives.
The last couple of years have been among the worst for hurricanes in the Southeast but Tallahassee, in the Big Bend of Florida, has been largely spared from direct hurricane damage. The last really damaging hurricane to affect Tallahassee was Hurricane Kate in 1985 when nearly the entire electrical system for the city was wiped out by fallen trees. The destruction of the city electrical system was so extensive that the day after Kate hit, only one gas station in town was able to pump. Because my neighborhood was in the unincorporated area, it was eight days before our power was restored. Some homes in my neighborhood went as long as eleven days.
Thankfully Kate hit in November, so the lack of air conditioning was not a problem. However, being mostly in the darkness during the entire time we were home was mind numbing. We were more fortunate than most. We had a gas hot water heater which meant we had hot showers. We also had camping equipment to cook with, a lantern for some light, and and a tiny portable tv that we could plug into the car cigarette lighter to watch the news each night. But each morning we would get up in the dark and get ready to go into work in the dark. By the time we got home in the evening, it would be dark again. Luckily we both worked downtown where the power was first restored. Going into work was the highlight of my day.
In the intervening years, the coastal areas had impacts from hurricanes and other storms, most notably Hurricane Opal in 1995 which hit much further west near Destin, but caused major damage to coastal areas in the Big Bend. But because Tallahassee sits about 25 miles inland from the nearest coastal area, it was usually spared. That was until 1994 when tropical storm Alberto moved into North Florida and South Georgia and stalled while dumping massive amounts of rain over the region.
As a result, 14 homes and several vacant lots in my neighborhood flooded with anywhere from one to three feet of water which came in the middle of the night. One of my friends in the flooded area ais that the water rose so fast that they went from a completely dry backyard to nearly two feet of water in less than an hour and a half. Most of the affected residents barely had time to escape their homes and by the next morning, some of them had three feet of water standing in their homes. Since the area was not in a FEMA flood hazard zone, none of the lenders had required flood insurance, and not a single home of the fourteen had flood insurance.
My entire neighborhood pulled together to help these families clean up and repair their homes. Eventually all the homes were repaired, but the cost to the families was much more than financial. Two couples ended up divorcing, several families sought stress counseling for themselves and their children, and several families moved away. Despite the hardships they endured, most of these families recovered from this disaster to resume productive lives.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
