delicomb, won't you be my baby, well, delicomb be my own

Pardon me while I paraphrase Jimmie Rodgers' "Honeycomb"! You can listen to it here, if you aren't familiar with it.
No, truly, go ahead.
I'll wait.
It's a right cute song!
Back now?
I know, you're wondering what the one thing has to do with the other.
Well, it's where I had lunch today.
On my way back from Ormond Beach, a place that was 'new to me', I was determined to continue gathering new experiences on this mini-vacation. No stopping at Dave & Buster's this time! I have a deck of unused Shuffle and Dine cards that I've been dragging around for months. Time to try one out!
I had already moved a few of the cards to the front of the deck.
Crazy Fish was first on my list.
Nuvi had the address and off we went!
I ended up on a puddle-beset dirt road, behind a marina. I drove down it as far as I could before the road was too drowned for travel. No sighting of the restaurant.
Drats. Strike one.
The next card up was Da Big Kahuna. In search of it I went!
I drove by the address three times. The restaurant was gone.
The building was there, but not the restaurant.
Apparently, it had closed last summer.
Drats. Strike two.
Having no luck with the cards, and definitely hungry for lunch, I cruised the area to see what else was available.

Honestly, I seem to be ever so much more conscious of bee-themes these days. I'm sure my alter-ego is responsible for that.
Fine by me!
Delicomb was definitely open and is now responsible to turning me on to granitas, or coffee slushies. So yummy!

Just beware of the 'ice-cream headache' if you try to drink it too quickly!
Sit back and enjoy is the lesson!
That is exactly what I did.
The Super Tuna, paired with a side of garbanzo salad, was just what I needed. In fact, half of the sandwich came home with me!
Definitely a home run hit!

goosebumps

I was a little early.
I had thought the shop might open at 9 AM, but the posted time stated 10:00 AM.
The young woman came to the door anyway, recognizing me from yesterday.
"I was wondering if you might have more of those bracelets with the elephants," I asked.
"By the way, it was 'jellybean jar', not 'jellybean tree'. I don't know why I said tree yesterday."
She assured me that she remembered me, and she would look to see if she had any of the bracelets in storage.
Wonder of wonders, she had five!!!!!
Fabulous!!!!
I would take all five so I could give one to each of my great-nieces!!!!!
Caitlyn, Carissa, Ally, Brooklynn, and the twins due in November, Alyssa and Leila.
I decided I would pick up a few other items I had noticed before, to help support the store.
That pretty seashell necklace, for starters. Oh, and that blue and green one, too!
Maybe these other ocean-colored necklaces would be nice, maybe to wear together...
Okay, time to hit the road!
Back to the counter, goodies in my hands, placing them down in groups for her to count.
Five jellybean jar bracelets, six ocean-hued necklaces, one large seashell necklace set, and one sparkly "diamond" bracelet.
And I'm telling her that it's been thirteen years since Mama died and how much I'm looking forward to sharing that jellybean joke with my great-nieces. She's half-listening, keeping up with her counting and ringing up the items.
"That makes thirteen items," she said, "right?"
I caught her eyes.
"Thirteen." was all I said.
She got goosebumps, literally.
And I very nearly stood there and cried.
I could feel your presence in the store.
She did, too.
As she said, you were there, Mama, looking over the situation, approving, reassuring.
Consoling.
I did cry when I reached the car.
Just sat there and sobbed for a few minutes.
I'd be willing to bet she called her mother. That's certainly what I would have done.
That's what I wish I could do now.
Just to hear your voice, Mama.
I am so glad to have found these bracelets to share you with those who will never have the opportunity to know you.
And to remind my nieces of your lovely sense of humor.

jokes of my mother

Why did the elephant paint his toenails all different colors?

So he could hide in the jellybean jar!

I grew up with that as one of my favorites! Mama had several jokes about elephants, but that is the one which leapt into my mind the moment I saw this bracelet.
The shop had two of the bracelets and I bought both of them. I shared the joke with the young clerk, but I don't think she really appreciated it.
My first niece will.
She knew Mama. She knew her as Grammy, but she still knew her, and that is what matters.
Before I leave town tomorrow, I will stop in at Sun Dollar to see if perhaps more of those bracelets have been located. I would like to have one for each of my great-nieces.
Not exactly a piece of my mother to share with them, but definitely a piece from my memory collection.
A favorite moment.

Here are a few more of those jokes.

Why did the elephant paint his toenails red?

So he could hide in the apple tree!

Why did the elephant paint his toenails orange?

So he could hide in the orange tree!

Why did the elephant paint his toenails green?

So he could hide in the watermelon patch!


Corny, sure, but also funny, especially to kids.

I sure hope they will have more of those bracelets.

that's what SHE said

I actually started this post over a month ago.
I'm not sure why I haven't yet finished it, but perhaps I was waiting on a last quote from a film with a great message. Tonight, I saw that film.
So, here we go, now!
Some of these were garnered from minor characters in the films, so don't blame a faulty memory if some of the lines don't ring a bell. I've tried to only repeat those which resonated with me.
Let's begin with the lines uttered, then try to match them to the correct ladies, shall we?

1) "I'll look if you will."

2) "You'd have to be very brave to love me."

3) "Everyone says seize the moment, but it's the moments that seize us."

4) "You don't stink of anything I don't like and you kind of remind me of an old boyfriend."

5) "It's a good plan... if it was 1985."

6) "I dreamed that I was being pursued by a tall Chinese man."

7) "Can I borrow a piece of your chicken?"

And the ladies are:

A) Nicole in "Boyhood"

B) Sophie in "Magic In The Moonlight"

C) Clementine in "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"

D) Chantry in "What If"

E) Vanda in "Venus in Fur"

F) Bertha in "Sin City: A Dame To Kill For"

G) Luna in "The Expendables 3"

*

*

*

That first line was uttered by leading lady Chantry. She and Wallace had just disrobed, prior to going skinnydipping. (No, sadly, we did not get to see 'Harry Potter's' package.) That scene led to the end of their platonic friendship, though they did try to pretend otherwise for much of the rest of the movie.
The next line was tossed out there by Vanda. Not only was she the leading lady, she was the only other person in the film. Great Polanksi film, based on the play, based on the 1870 book by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch. S-M, right? Almost 150 years ago. Yeah, Shakespeare may have been correct.
I'm so glad the peace Guy and I saw the play a year ago.
Back to the quotes!
Line 3 spilled from the lips of a minor character. A very minor character. Nicole doesn't appear until the last few minutes of the 165-minute film. She summarizes the entire theme with that one line. So, now you know. She and the new-to-college boy are sharing a doobie, out in the desert, awaiting the sunset, with each of their roommates. Kudos for the efforts of all involved over the twelve-year filming process, but ... sheesh, that was a long movie to sit through!
(Yeah, I did ramble on a bit, didn't I? But I wanted you to appreciate the feel of the film.)
The diner waitress was responsible for the fourth line. What diner waitress, you ask? Bertha, played by the one-and-only Lady Gaga. She is only onscreen for a few memorable minutes, just long enough to console a broken Johnny and stake him for his next poker game. Quite memorable few minutes it is, a beautiful bit of noir as we skirt the fringes of a city that soils everything it touches.
The fifth line came from another character with a tiny role, but large presence. Luna may not speak more than fifteen words in the entire film, but I wanted to include her here. Why? Well, of all the females noted in this post, she is the only one who was a woman in a man's world. Usually, you don't see women as mercenaries; I don't know how she got this role, but I applaud her for not letting them doll her up.
And, as I served eight years in the Navy, as a Cryptologic Technician-Maintenance, I had my share of being a woman in a man's world. You haven't truly experienced that sensation until you have someone ask you why you're "taking the job away from a man" - and the questioner is a woman. Ouch.
Dreams can be funny outtakes on life, can't they? Sophie certainly saw them as such. Then again, perhaps she made up this declaration to try to draw out the alternate identity of Stanley, aka Wei Ling Soo, the magician. This Woody Allen film is the fun side of period pieces, with quite lovely fashions featured throughout.
The last quote is from darling Clementine. She is seated beside Joel, ouside and on the top step of a beachfront house, when she utters the line and, justthatfast, plucks the drumstick from his plate and starts munching on it.
"Borrow"? Like she was going to give it back to him?
Funny line, but true to life. Folks say silly stuff like this all the time.
I find it nice that this dear psychological romance threw it in there. It makes this bit of science fiction a little more approachable by those not so attuned.
Okay, that's all for now.
Maybe I'll collect quotes from just the men next time!

hat trick, received and accomplished

Dear Tony,
Glad to receive your last letter! It was waiting for me when I returned from Tallahassee on Sunday. I had told the bfe on the trip that if a letter from you was in the mail, that would make a "hat trick" for me. It's a hockey term, meaning 3 goals scored successively by a single player.
Say what? What does that have to do with you?
Well, I look at it this way. I have three brothers. A hat trick requires there to be 3 things concerning a single person. Here's how this worked on Sunday. While on the backrooads of Georgia and heading home, I received a phone call from Ronnie. That was one! Then, while we were in Blackshear having dinner, I received a phone call from Smitty. That was two! That's when I told the bfe about hat tricks and that I hoped a letter from you would be waiting for me.
Then, when I arrived home, I saw I had received a letter from you! 3 contacts from 3 brothers, to me! Hat trick!
Well, of sorts. Right? maybe you have to hold your mouth just right to be able to tell.
:) ☺ (:
The trip, obviously, went well. We stayed at Penny and Steve's house and we all had lots of conversation and good times together. Aunt Linda came over on Sunday, around 11 AM, and we had sandwiches and talked a bit more. I don't think Aunt Linda really understands my friendship with the bfe, but Penny does. Steve and the bfe talked physics and that made both of them happy. And that made mea and Penny happy!
Their sons, Jacob and Alex, are 14 and 11 now. Aunt Linda was there to also help tutor Alex before his math test this week.
Okay, it's getting pretty late, kid, so I think I'm going to bed now.
Sweet dreams to you!
(That happens to be one of my favorite things that the bfe says.)
with my love!

***** ***** *****

So, that letter completes the third "goal" for me today, making my hat trick of appreciation complete.
The first goal was accomplished this afternoon, for my middle brother. His phone will now be active for sending and receiving phone calls for the next thirty days.
The second goal wasn't accomplished until late this evening. That was for the benefit of my oldest little brother, Smitty. For him, I filed his sales tax report for August, after spending three hours getting the data for it and reconciling the numbers yesterday.
Then, as I said, I wrote to my youngest brother, sending him love and much talk of hat tricks.
As Penny once said to Sheldon on that physics show I enjoy so very much, "Oh my God, you're about to jibber-jabber about jibber-jabber."
And I did.
(smile)

Pretty cool that I accomplished my hat trick for my brothers in the same order in which I had received the communications from them on Sunday.
Pretty cool.

hotdogs, skiers, and blondes

These are all jokes that appeared in my email inbox from the fsil'm last month. I got a chucckle from them and hope to keep them close to enjoy again.
(smile)

***** ***** *****
Do you remember the famous Olympic skier Picabo Street (pronounced Pee-Ka-Boo) Well, Picabo is not just an athlete.
She is now a nurse currently working at an Intensive Care Unit of a large metropolitan hospital. She is not permitted to answer the hospital telephones any longer.
It caused too much confusion when she would answer the phone and say, Picabo, I.C.U.

***** ***** *****
Two Irish nuns have just arrived in the USA by boat, and one says to the other, "I hear that the people in this country actually eat dogs."
"Odd," her companion replies, "but if we shall live in America , we might as well do as the Americans do."
As they sit, they hear a push cart vendor yelling, "Hot Dogs, get your dogs here," and they both walk towards the hot dog cart.
"Two dogs, please!," says one. The vendor is very pleased to oblige, wraps both hot dogs in foil and hands them over. Excited, the nuns hurry to a bench and begin to unwrap their 'dogs.'
The mother superior is first to open hers.
She begins to blush, and then, after staring at it for a moment, leans to the other nun and in a soft brogue whispers:
"What part did you get?"

***** ***** *****
BROTHEL SUES LOCAL CHURCH OVER LIGHTNING STRIKE
Mount Vernon, Texas

Diamond D's brothel began construction on an expansion of their building to increase their ever-growing business. In response, the local Baptist Church started a campaign to block the business from expanding; with morning, afternoon, and evening prayer sessions at their church.
Work on Diamond D's progressed right up until the week before the grand reopening when lightning struck the whorehouse and burned it to the ground!
After the cat-house was burned to the ground by the lightning strike, the church folks were rather smug in their outlook, bragging about "the power of prayer."
But late last week 'Big Jugs' Jill Diamond, the owner/madam, sued the church, the preacher and the entire congregation on the grounds that the church ... "was ultimately responsible for the demise of her building and her business -- either through direct or indirect divine actions or means."
In its reply to the court, the church vehemently and vociferously denied any and all responsibility or any connection to the building's demise.
The crusty old judge read through the plaintiff's complaint and the defendant's reply, and at the opening hearing he commented,
"I don't know how the hell I'm going to decide this case, but it appears from the paperwork, that we now have a whorehouse owner who staunchly believes in the power of prayer, and an entire church congregation that does not."

***** ***** *****
A blonde man is in the bathroom and his wife shouts: "Did you find the shampoo?"
He answers, "Yes, but I'm not sure what to do... it's for dry hair, and I've just wet mine."

------------------------------

A blonde man goes to the vet with his goldfish.
"I think it's got epilepsy," he tells the vet.
The vet takes a look and says, "It seems calm enough to me."
The blonde man says, "Wait, I haven't taken it out of the bowl yet."

------------------------------------

A blonde man spies a letter lying on his doormat.
It says on the envelope "DO NOT BEND".
He spends the next 2 hours trying to figure out how to pick it up.

------------------------------------

A blonde man shouts frantically into the phone, "My wife is pregnant and her contractions are only two minutes apart!"
"Is this her first child?" asks the Doctor.
"No!" he shouts, "this is her husband!"

------------------------------------

A blonde man was driving home, drunk as a skunk. Suddenly he has to swerve to avoid a tree, then another, then another.
A cop car pulls him over, so he tells the cop about all the trees in the road.
The cop says, "That's your air freshener swinging about!"

------------------------------------

A blonde man's dog goes missing and he is frantic. His wife says "Why don't you put an ad in the paper?"
He does, but two weeks later the dog is still missing.
"What did you put in the paper?" his wife asks.
"Here, boy!" he replies.

------------------------------------

A friend told the blonde man: "Christmas is on a Friday this year."
The blonde man then said, "Let's hope it's not the 13th."

------------------------------------

Two blonde men find three grenades, and they decide to take them to a police station.
One asked: "What if one explodes before we get there?"
The other says: "We'll lie and say we only found two."

------------------------------------

A woman phoned her blonde neighbor man and said: "Close your curtains the next time you & your wife are having sex. The whole street was watching and laughing at you yesterday."
To which the blonde man replied: "Well the joke's on all of you because I wasn't even at home yesterday."

how I marked the 13th year

This past week has certainly been a time of remembrances of my days in the military. Ever since last Friday, when I discovered, to my horror, that the Naval stations I had spent my young adult years at were (long) gone, I have had the impact of the military on youth on my mind. During times of peace, the effect is minimalized, primarily manifesting as an increase in structure and responsibility. That's all to the good. Regardless of the reason a person volunteers for service, that time elisted can bring happy memories and long-term friendships.
Today was not to mark a time of peace. This country has been deeply involved in war and peace has been absent for thirteen years.
In honor of this great country I call home, I attended two events at Armstrong State University today.
The first was a fun learning experience. Titled "Star Spangled Banner", the lecture explored the origins of several patriotic songs, not just our National Anthem. One piece in particular caught my attention: "America The Beautiful". Based on the poem "Pike's Peak", written by Katharine Lee Bates in 1893, the lyrics give praise to the World's Columbian Exposition, better known as the Chicago World's Fair. She was a 33-year-old single woman, a teacher from Massachusetts, who had traveled to Colorado for a summer teaching job and stopped in Chicago along the way.
Why did this hold such importance for me?
Well, it appealed to my alter ego, Fliss of Kickstarter! In particular, the reference in the song to "alabaster cities", in conjunction with the knowledge of her trip to the Fair in 1893, immediately placed her in the context of the musical I had backed on kickstarter. 'Wait a minute!', I thought, 'I know that story about the Fair!' Indeed. Thanks to "The Dreamer and The Devil", I am rather familiar with the architect of that White City of which she speaks. I can certainly understand an intelligent young woman being quite taken with Daniel Burnham's gleaming dream, especially after the city grime she knew.
How fortunate for us all that she did not opt to stay at the hotel built by "Dr. H.H. Holmes" during her visit to the Fair. That establishment, self-billed as "World's Fair Hotel", came replete with dungeon, gas chamber, and moratorium, and was the site of at least 27 murders (possibly as many as 200). Had she rested her head on one of those pillows, we might not have ever had this paean to the beauty of America's diverse vistas.
Brrr! Did you just catch that chill?

The second event I chose to mark time in America's history was this evening.
The Armstrong Masquers performed
"A Piece of My Heart", the play written by Shirley Lauro. Her work was adapted from six stories of the twenty-six women in the 1986 book by Keith Walker. The six stories selected cover a broad range of women who served in Vietnam, during their time there (in the late 1960's) and up to the completion of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial (in 1984).
Some of these women were so young! Martha, a daughter of a career military man and Army nurse mother, and Sissy, who had just looked for escape from her Pennsylvania hometown, were 18 and 19 years old when they enlisted.
MaryJo, a Texas entertainer in her early 20's, thought a contract to entertain the troops would advance the careers of herself and her band. That was the story her agent told her.
LeeAnn was a hippie and a war protester, thinking that being a military nurse was a way to help folks - especially as she had been told she would be going to Hawaii.
Whitney, in her mid-20's, was an idealistic Ivy-leaguer, volunteering as a nurse for the American Red Cross.
They all believed the stories on the radio, on television, in the newspapers and magazines. America was winning the war over there, but could still use help.
The only one who truly knew what was going on was 35-year-old Steele, a 17-year intelligence specialist in the US Army. Of course, she found out that being a black female was not going to get you too far, regardless of the information you brought to the general's attention.

Yes, I cried.
I wept when the young nurses were thrown into the horror pit of war, forced to learn how to start an iv through OJT. Add to that scene the sound of helicopters,
the endless screaming and noise, and the sight of men, their age and younger, missing limbs and bleeding out before their eyes.
Horrific.
I wept when a dying young man gets to talk to his mom for Christmas.
I wept when the veteran in the group tries to stave off the Tet offensive and failed.
I wept when they all sought solace at the bottom of a bottle, both in Vietnam and back at home again.
Their return to the States was met with more tears, because I know the greeting they received from the civilian world here.
I am so grateful to be a supporter of the Armstrong Masquers.
Keep up the good work, y'all.

what a difference a day makes, 24 little hours

"There's so much time in a day, Faustina.

You could have breakfast, lunch, and dinner on 3 different continents.

You could outline the book you're going to write, start the screenplay adaptation, and watch "Gone With The Wind," before the sun even sets.

Spend a day at work, and still have 16 hours left over.

Or you could just think 60,000 different thoughts as you tool all over Savannah.

Hey, the record for climbing Mt. Everest is under 9 hours, leaving 15 to nap and go Yeti searching. There's so much time in a day, Faustina. So much.

You're rich,
The Universe"

joke for George

A mother and her ten-year-old son are talking. He's just arrived home from playing baseball.

mom: "I'm sorry your team lost. Did anything noteworthy happen?"

son: "Well, a new kid joined our team and he's left-handed."

mom: "Oh? Is anything different because he's left-handed?"

son: "It's kinda the same, except the opposite. Like he wears his glove on his right hand, not his left."

son: "And when he bats, it's from the other side of the plate."

mom: "I get it - and if he hits a pitch, he runs to third base instead of first, right?"

litany of 1st world woes

Ta Dah!
I'm here! How are you doing, Tony?
I've been a little blue lately. Actually, ever since Robin Williams' death, I've just not quite had my joie de vivre going. I had my annual blood work drawn last Friday and I go to the doctor on the 10th to get the results. I'll talk to her about this general malaise I have and see what she recommends.
Maybe I'm just tired of being in a hot house. That is definitely becoming a drag. Ah, well, it's my own choice - if I really wanted to have the the AC fixed, I could just knuckle under and spend the money. As it is, there's only about another month of hot days, then we should be done with that. These highs in the 90's are rough.
Sorry to hear about the old man dying there. The VA has had quite a bit of that in the news, with folks dying while waiting for an appointment. There have even been cases of people dying while waiting to get on to a surgeon's schedule! Absolutely bad. I have found that I sometimes have a two or three month wait before I can see my VA doc - but that isn't much different than the wait I used to have for my civilian doc. Or for my dentist.
Anywho - I'm going to Tallahassee this weekend. Yeah! Secrest and I are going there for the Southeast premiere of a movie I helped support. That's right - when they were looking for funding on kickstarter, I added my $154 to the pile and they were successful! Now, two years later, the musical is done, it's won some awards at film festivals around the world, and it is traveling from England to the US to theaters around the country. Cool, right? I am excited about that. I'm hoping Penny and her family will go see the film with us, as well as Aunt Linda. It'll be shown twice, on Saturday and Sunday, one time each afternoon. I hope to attend both screenings, but we shall see.
Okay - time to get my silly self in gear and drive on out of here!
with my love

-------------- ------------ ------------- -----------

I have lost my joie de vivre. I cannot seem to shake this general malaise which has beset me.
Robin Williams' death still saddens me deeply.
I'm tired of writing loans to myself and rocketing my debt higher and higher. I had really banked on getting a full-time teaching position this fall. I did not, and I do not believe I will ever be allowed to do so. After all, it is well known that the department head wants that chemistry series to be gone. Maybe that has changed since he has been teaching the class this past year. I doubt I will ever know.
I've been put into a position of leadership for the Light The Night team for the College of Science and Technology. I had named the team four years ago and my friend decided that was reason enough to put me in charge. I cannot even muster enough support to get a job in that college. How on Earth can I convince them to donate to this cause?
The ever-huggable Hai has unfriended me on fb... and didn't even bother to let me know he was doing so. He has not yet responded to my new request for friendship on that site.
These highs in the 90's are making me hot and sweaty all the time. No escape in my hot little house with no air conditioning.
My ex may have damaged his pancreas with his alcohol use. People think just the liver can be affected, but it's the pancreas that has to deal with regulation of sufficient insulin to handle that influx of liquid sugar.
My middle brother continues to live in the woods, starting each day with a '40' and ending it that same way. He complains about the heat, too. I am concerned about him, but he refuses to get treatment. He refuses to even consider it.
My house is a mess. At least I finally washed dishes last night.
My life is a mess. That's probably why my house reflects that.
My deck is rotting. I have become afraid to go into my back yard through my back door, for fear my foot will fall through another rotten board. I had thought my older brother might help with that repair, but not so far.
I miss the oak tree that was outside my bedroom window.
I regret that so much that was important to me in my younger years is now lost. In particular, I would have liked to see the naval stations I served at one more time before they were torn down. Instead, I found out about their demise too late to have been able to do so.
My weight loss program is going nowhere. I need a sponsor, someone who will hold me accountable. Actually, I need someone who will cook and grocery shop for me, so I will only have healthy, filling meals.
My last boyfriend has a new live-in girlfriend. Harry contacted me just days ago to thank me for an email I had sent about his fb account. It's not that I regret pushing him away three years ago - I don't - but it's sad that door is closed. Maybe we can actually be friends now.
My youngest brother is still in prison and will be there for some undetermined future amount of time. It's difficult to determine what to do with him when he is released until we know when that will be.
My boys of summer lost their bid at being champions two years in a row. A bad call at home plate is to blame, but that doesn't help them. They played well, but lost because of someone's bad decision. That is sad. I almost cried when the fans stood, turned toward their dugout, and cheered for the good baseball the team had given us.
My youngest brother's grandkids did not even once go to the baseball games. I had bought their memberships in the Gnats' kid club, which would have magically granted them access into all seventy games this season. Their mom would not ever agree to meet with me. Very sad for the kids to be have been deprived of this summer entertainment and for me to have been deprived of their company.
My stepmom is far too busy for us to have our time together. I miss her and our grown-girl talks.
I seem to be crying more than usual lately. I think I am spending too much time alone. I know I definitely need cuddling, but that is not forthcoming. I am very tired of that lack in my life.
I haven't seen my "little sister" and her kids in at least three years. I had hoped to meet up with them midway-ish this summer, but they did not travel out of California after all. My little sister was supposed to have come to Savannah last month, but I heard nothing from her.
My BFF is finally separated from her emotionally abusive husband. She wants divorce, he is refusing. The emotional abuse continues, in the form of his seduction of women he wishes she was. I think that is the most cruel move of all.
I don't even know who to talk to about these things. I hate to rain pain on anyone else. I'm hoping that throwing this out there from my beach will turn this grief into lagan.
My first niece is so inundated with family issues that I cannot even seem to hold a conversation with her. I actually stopped a topic in mid-discussion while she handled a phone call and she didn't even pick up the trail afterward.
I had the same issue arise with my BFF this past weekend.
In general, I don't seem to hold anyone's attention for long enough for them to hear ME.
Tomorrow makes a year since the death of my stepbrother George.

I keep taking on too much responsibility for other people's happiness.
I need to stop being such a control freak.
I need a hug that lasts until I stop it.

Bitch, bitch, moan, and complain.

death of an oak

Here, I pay homage to the oak destroyed on July 15 and 16 of this year.
Even though I am the one responsible for its loss to my world, I am gladdened to know I have these photographs to document its existence.

Day 1, Tuesday, July 15: work begins.

Day 2, Wednesday, July 16: continuation and culmination.

panegyric for an oak

Planted
by a forgetful squirrel
before the house changed hands in 2001,
the acorn
from across the street
grew into a small tree between the two houses. Although trimmed repeatedly
(by yours truly) over the ensuant years, the tree continued to grow, eventually attaining a height which would have required the use of a ladder to keep its boughs in check.
Notice that use of the phrase "would have".
The tree, no longer beset by pruning tools, flourished.
Oddly, no birds claimed it as home. Ever.
The mockingbirds preferred the shelter of the nearby azaleas, cloaked by blackberry brambles and thorny vines.
The neighbor in the house on the other side of the tree began complaining about two years ago. He claimed the upper branches were having a deleterious effect on his roof. I reminded him that I would have been able to afford to have the tree trimmed when he had the tree cutters eliminating the pines in his back yard, about five years earlier. He did not recall.
Every few months, a card from a tree surgeon would be left on my door.
Time passed.
The tree continued to loft its weighty limbs into the air, reaching its fingertips toward the sun, the moon, the stars. Its leaves caught each passing breeze, rustling and singing.
Its roots continued to spread, taking shelter under the houses of myself and my neighbor. Eventually, that would be a serious problem, I knew. The roots of an oak reach out as far as do its limbs. The overlap of the branches atop the two roofs were evidence of the roots' encroachment upon those foundations.
Action would eventually be necessary. I knew that, but kept granting clemency to the oak.
After two of my neighbors called the city about my back yard, I decided it was time for action against the tree.
Time for the mighty oak to be felled.
"Mighty" was hardly the correct description. The tree was still so young! It should have had a couple of hundred years of time ahead of it.
Instead, the tree surgeon of my choice was called, a man recommended by my dear artist friend.
On the afternoon of Tuesday, July 15, 2014, Ervin came. After we agreed on the cost of ending the tree's life, work began.
Immediately.
I may have expected more time for me to accept the concept of killing the oak. At least I was aware that this was most likely the only time I would deliberately have a living tree destroyed.
I documented the act with photographs.
The tree surgeon was surprised, but did not discourage me.
He has a deep respect for these trees he fells.
I like to think he knew I had a deep respect for this oak.
I like to think I did, too.
I miss the sight and the sounds of it.
I don't think I realized what a loss I would feel.
I certainly did not realize what impact that loss would have on me.
Now, every morning, I am reminded that the oak is gone. The rising sunbeams, no longer blocked, beat against my bedroom window, seeking admittance, bidding me awaken at a ridiculously early time.
Now, all day long, the sun sends its heated rays toward that window, increasing the temperature in my already hot, un-air-conditioned, little house.
Now, every day, I am reminded of my death sentence on the oak.
Sigh.
Loss adjustment is still ongoing.
Perhaps, as the days cool and the nights lengthen, I will welcome the additional sunlight.
For now, the loss is still fresh and I am daily reminded: I had a living tree destroyed.
I don't know if Joyce Kilmer would have approved, but I have to believe he would have understood.
And none of that logic makes it any less sad.

elephant cages

Early this morning, just after midnight, I was catching up on fb before wandering off to bed.
My little sister's wife sent me the following story:
Navy's mysterious 'elephant cage' retired
Say what???
I spent 15 months of my life there, from December 1982 to March 1984.
I was 24 years old.
That was my last duty station as a Cryptologic Technician, Maintenance, for the United State Navy. My time in San Diego was memorable, from the all-day concerts in open-air stadiums to the drives along the magnificent coast and points all around.
Then there were the trips I made!
Out to Barstow to see my high school friend Josie and her family, then onward for my first view of Las Vegas, sparkling like jewels on black velvet on the night-time road.
Up to Los Angeles to visit Arturo Koenig and George Cherry, fellows I knew in my Okinawa days.
Another trip in that direction, to Anaheim, to visit the family of Jeff Petrell, a friend stationed with me in Panama.
Then, for Christmas of 1983, up to San Francisco, to see my best friend Lizz, my jarhead of Okinawa (I was her squid!)
of course, I also drove across the border to Tijuana, just about ten miles away from where I lived in Imperial Beach, which was in easy walking distance from the station.
You see, NSGA San Diego was physically located in Imperial Beach, just ot the south of town. Until the early 1970's, it was known as NSGA Imperial Beach and many around there still called it that when I was there.
Apparently, it last saw sailors in September of 1999.
On July 27, 2005, it was disestablished.
What a word: disestablished.
Stripped of its official status as an integral part of the US Navy.
Rather similar to a marriage being annulled, isn't it?
Now, the Wullenweber antenna array, a structure the size of two football fields, is to be dismantled, to be disappeared from the spot on which it has stood since 1965.
I sat right here in this chair and sobbed.
Disappeared???
Part of my history whisked away into nothingness???
That can't be right... can it? We're talking about a military station, for crying out loud! No more sailors working there night and day to help locate folks lost at sea or people trafficking in drugs or humans? No more?
Apparently.
The site has been known as the Silver Strand Training Complex ever since its dismissal from the military. Odd, I don't recall seeing that name on it when Cyndi drove me by it in 2008, on my February visit to San Diego. I was too busy drinking in the sights, overall, for such a detail.
It was originally scheduled to be removed in 2007.
Perhaps it had been left there for me to visit, one more time.
Now, it's stay of demolition has been lifted. Funds have been found and it will be deconstructed this very month.
The 390-foot diameter, circularly disposed antenna array will be removed. The two-story, windowless, concrete block building at its heart will vanish, to beat no more.
I sat here and sobbed, wiping my eyes as I read its obituary.
Then a thought struck - what about the other duty stations of my youth? Were they safe from demolition? Surely...they were in other countries, on foreign soil and in locations not as hungry for beachfront land as California is.
A few simple searches with goodsearch confirmed my fears. The obituaries were right in front of me.
Naval Security Group Activity Galeta Island, Panama: closed in March, 1995. Disestablished a scant three months later. Given to Panama on New Year's Eve, 1999.

Now, reduced to rubble.
This was taken in April, 2008, by Dave Peck on his visit there.
From military outpost with
US Marines on the roof
to rotting tourist site
in a mangrove swamp.
For all I know,
the structures are
completely gone.
I sat and sobbed.
NSGA Galeta Island was my first duty station. I was 19 years old and newly wed.
I was the first woman to be stationed there. The one bathroom had a sign to be switched from "Men" to "Women" to "Open". Funny what memories come to mind!
My first husband and I spent our honeymoon driving there, starting in Pensacola, Florida, then to Laredo, Texas, and the US-Mexico border. We spent some time in Mexico, dodging vehicle collisions in the massive roundabouts, climbing the Pyramid of the Moon in Teotihuacan, listening to the mariachi bands on the gondolas of Xochimilco's Floating Gardens, admiring the beauty of the cathedral in Oaxaca.
Then, onward along the Pan-American Highway to Panama, paying exit fees and entrance fees all along the way. We were living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the last few days of our trip! We arrived in April of 1978 and were there until April of 1980.
My last dog was a Panamanian version of Heinz 57, with German Shepard being dominant. Toffee was aptly named. She was a sweet, smart, girl with heavy mascara all around her eyes and dark hairs scattershot throughout her coat. She came with us when we left Panama, spending her month in quarantine in Miami before joining us in Savannah.
Coco Solo was home while down in Central America. Disco dancing, shag, square dancing! Movies on reels to watch as often as we wanted, over in the Officers' Quarters! Shopping and festivals in Colon! Exploring the thorn trees on Fort Davis! Riding the train to the PX at Rodman Air Base on the Pacific Ocean side! Hopping a ride on new Navy and Marine vessels as they traveled through the locks of the Panama Canal! Sunbathing at the secluded Playa Diablo!
No more.
Coco Solo, the smaller towns, even the Army base at Fort Gulick - all swallowed up by the now-city of Colón. I wonder if the restaurant where I first dined on ceviche and dorado is still there?
Early this morning, I was not consciously thinking of any of these memories. I was in shock at my loss.
Tears coursed down my cheeks as I viewed the list of stations I knew.
Groton? London? Naples?
Closed, closed, closed.
What about NSGA Hanza, in Okinawa?
Closed. The last sailors had left by June of 1998. The antenna array and ops building were demolished in June, 2007.
Nothing to mark its place now.
Gone.
I wept in a daze, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands.
March of 1981 to December of 1982, my room was on the third floor at Torii Station, facing the ocean. I rode a bus to go up the hill to the "elephant cage" for my 2-2-2-80 shiftwork. I rode the Okinawan buses in to Kadena, Naha, Nago, for dining and shopping and barhopping with the guys.
I took USO-organized trips to Hong Kong and Kowloon province China, to Taipei, Taiwan, to mainland Japan. I took an overnight ride on an Asian passenger ship from Taiwan back to Okinawa, being treated to a night sky with more stars than I could have ever dreamt possible.
My first experiences with theatre were in Okinawa. Army Community Theatre On (the) Rock, aka ACTOR, was a source of civilian sanity and socializing in the heart of Torii Station. Janet Leary and Mark Engler taught us all to have fun while entertaining others. I am especially fond of our production of "Bell, Book, and Candle", in May, 1982. No, I wasn't part of that one. I saw it after successfully lobbying the Navy to grant me a tubal ligation. The abdominal surgery left me unable to laugh without wincing, so I had to clap instead!
Such memories of good times...
... at a place now gone.
Even Torii Station has changed, offering recreational activities and beachside entertainment. I remember not being able to go on the beach because of the mines still buried in the sand.
This morning, I wept until I was exhausted and my eyes were nearly swollen shut.
In need of diversion before bed, I looked to the television world.
I caught the last 15 or 20 minutes of the last episode of "Friends". In the final moments of the show, they are leaving the apartment for the very last time, placing their keys on the kitchen counter.
I couldn't have asked for anything better, something to alter my perspective in a positive way.
Change is part of life.
Coincidence? More like my Grandmama looking after me.
By the closing credits of the show, I was calm once more.
The time was 3 AM.
"Futurama" was coming on.
Time to relax with an Outshine lime popsicle and those folks of the future.
Then I was off to bed, for sure, and peaceful dreams.
And today has been a new day.

mas photos de Dragon*Con 28

Ariel the mermaid
(odd how similar
the name is
to that of
yesterday's cosplay
- coincidence?),
replete in sail dress
and new legs,
takes a moment to visit
the octopus
astride this
steampunk Victorian vehicle.
Sebastian is not amused by the lack of attention to him.
After finding the octopus
to be no one she knew,
Ariel moved on.

Oceanic
Steampunk
Adventures?
A Norwegian troll hunter?
Finding (Captain) Nemo?
Mermaids trapped by Robots in Atlantis?
Craziness, for sure...
but my kind of crazy!

Dr. Horrible, his Freeze Ray in hand!
Dr. Horrible, after acceptance into the Evil League of Evil!
And even an aging, post-defeat, Hammer!!!
The best part of the Whedon Universe costume contest?
Right here with me, dear,
right here with me!!!
The first Dr, Horrible even gave me his container of Wonderflonium!!!
He must know I'm a chemist, not a fairy princess.
Wow, he is good!!!

And what would a
Whedon Universe
costume contest be
without characters from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"?
Not much, that's what!
Spike, on the left, is the one I want.
Come on over and bite me sometime, big boy...

And how about bringing
Captain America
and Thor
with you?
No need for them to remain
in S.H.I.E.L.D.,
missing the fun.
They can even
keep their boots on... rawr!

Settle down now, girlie!
That's not how those Canada pop stars do things!
Robin Sparkles reminds me
that girl fun can be had in more mundane ways!
"Let's Go To THE MALL!"
(smile!)

Oh, Minion!

My Minion!

How wonderful to see you here!

But however did you grow so tall?

Perhaps that is for the best.

The better to be seen,
my dear,
the better to be seen!

Then,
off I'm
whisked
on a flight of fancy
with Hiccup
and my
very most favorite
Night Fury dragon
ever,
Toothless!
What a glorious ride!

And, at the end of my day, to be greeted by Odd Lotters from home - what a sweet surprise!
My continued greetings, and hugs, to Thomas, Chris, and John - see your zany improv some Monday night, y'all!

highlights of dragon*con 28

I wish I had seen such a lovely beast while there!
True, quite a few of the lovelies in the Art Show certainly caught my gaze, but none imprinted upon me.
So, there they stayed.
This photo?
I took it outside StarCastle right here in town, while attending Samuel's 10th birthday party.

Here we are,
fresh and shiny,
first thing in the morning
at the MARTA train station!
The BFF, her bellydancin' pal, the daughter, and yours truly!

High point!!!
There the girl-child
and I were,
just wandering through
yet another crowd
of costumed folk...
and there HE was!!!

BEAKER!!!

Of course I asked to have my photo taken with him!
Fairy princess dress,
braids,
kickstarter-backed dustbunny,
and all!

Oh my! Gee golly! W O W!!!
It's Groot!!!
The little dancing Groot, coming back to life as only he can!
We were in the Walk of Fame and literally turned a corner to see him as he waltzed in.
Of course I took a photo...
even though it was clearly posted to not do so...
but I did anyway!

I'm an outlaw!!!
Just like Groot.
(smile)
So is Aela,
huntress of Skyrim,
my gallant companion
on this quest for dragons.
No dragons today, but treasure:
birthday greetings and love
from Billy Boyd!
A most successful quest, I say!

would have been better seven miles ago

By the time I looked at my odometer, I'd missed the opportunity.
The mileage reading of 153351 was lost.
So, I did the next best thing. I took the photograph anyway, to acknowledge my error in timing.
That's important. Acknowledgement of missed chances, mistakes along the way, errors in judgement.
Like other animals, we humans learn more from our mistakes than we do from our successes.
Actually, that may not be quite correct as stated. I believe we learn as much from each, but the mistakes usually have a negative impact that leaves a lasting impression.
Anything that makes us say "OUCH!" will certainly be recalled in future situations which are similar, if not identical.
Definitely true.
But what about those occurrences in which we say "WOOHOO!"? Do those generate the same lasting impression, encouraging us to repeat that action if granted the chance to do so?
I would hope so.
But here is the problem with that. Many times, I have found the "WOOHOO!" is partly dependent on the company I am keeping. Consider the following examples.
Being in the presence of Minions in Las Vegas, by myself, was a different enjoyable experience from that I had yesterday at Dragon*Con with my BFF's darling daughter. In the first instance, I was able to completely enjoy the moment, in the company of several other lovers of the oblong yellow guys! But, the girl-child did not really know the movie of their origin and my glee was somewhat diminished by her lack of same.
Dragon*Con, itself, was a wildly different experience this year. The first one I attended, in 2008, in the company of Sam Johnson and the BFF's two children, was a bit of a marvel, as I had never been to a costumed convention before. Sam had lined up some events to attend, I had some I wanted to attend, and the kids just wanted to look at everyone. I missed all of the events concerning "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" and Joss Whedon's world. I really did enjoy the talk with Mickey Dolenz (of The Monkee's) and even the missed talk with Adam West (of tv's "Batman" series; he opted to be in the Autograph Hall instead). All in all, it was pleasurable, but I would have preferred not being the Adult In Charge. (No, Sam most definitely did not count as an adult.)
2009's Dragon*Con was a bitter-sweet experience. Sam had died, but the kids wanted to go again. The BFF and her husband and I went along, too. Mostly, we just wandered around, looking at costumed characters, taking photos. I did have a fabulous encounter with Alan Ruck, prior to a panel talk with him and several other actors who were special characters in the "Star Trek" universe. I also very much enjoyed the hands-on experience with making towel creature art. Definitely fun! But the rest is a bit of a blur.
This year, it was the 28th Annual Dragon*Con. I was absolutely unprepared... and so was the girl-child. I was not even sure that we were going until just a few days beforehand. So, I had no time to check out the schedule, line up some events not to be missed, confer with her on the timetables. I had seen that James Gunn would be there and knew I did not want to miss seeing him. She had no interest, as she had not yet (and still has not) seen "Guardians of the Galaxy".
There were several musical acts I would have enjoyed, as well as blocks of short films. She was really not that interested.
You see, she is a 17-almost-18-year-old girl.
She had spent all of her Dragon*Con preparation time devising the costumes she would wear each of the two days we attended. She was going there to be seen. Period.
After all, she is a 17-almost-18-year-old girl.
A very lovely one, at that, in the typical way.
She is smart, too, but you don't get accolades and adoration from the general public for being smart.
She was there for the glory of recognition of her costumes.
Sitting in panel discussions was not for her. Hardly anyone would praise her cosplay efforts if she were simply part of a crowd, with everyone's attention on the featured guests at the front of the room.
We did both enjoy the Art Show, as we had in 2008. Very little of the artwork for sale was in our budgets this time around, but the visuals and creativity were amazing!
We also enjoyed browsing in the Comic and Pop Artist Alley. No, we were not familiar with any of the artists there, but two kickstarter-backed success stories were there and I enjoyed talking with them.
We spent time both days in those two venues, as well as in the Walk of Fame. She even spent $50 of birthday money on an autograph from her beloved Billy Boyd. Bless him, he even wrote "Happy Birthday" on the glamor shot he signed for her! She was ecstatic!!! I would have liked to wait for James Gunn and his brother to return, but the lines were incredible.
Many times, the lines were ridiculously long. People would get in line more than an hour before an event! Not us.
That we had in common. We did stand in line for Billy Boyd's autograph. Rather, I held her place while she tried to get a couple of others to grant free signatures. (No such luck.) We were fortunate that most events we attended did not have lines of more than thirty or so.
In the end, I think we would both agree that the first day, although erratic, was our favorite, but for different reasons. For her, the cosplay she had chosen that day(the huntress from Skyrim) drew a lot of admiring comments and many requests from adult males for her photo. Success! For me, the day was a favorite because I saw two blocks of short films as well as the panel discussion featuring James and Sean Gunn. Fabulous!
The trip on Sunday was good, but not quite as rewarding for her. Her Ariel in a sail dress cosplay was cute, but in a little-girl way. She mostly was noticed by girls and young women with little children, what notice she did receive. Me? I had charted our course in the Westin to keep us inside and entertained throughout the heat of the day. I enjoyed the ride, but she was clearly needing the attention of others. That put a bit of a damper on my fun, but I tried to sail right past that hurdle, mostly.
(smile)
Will I go again next year?
No, I don't think so.
Unless Alan Ruck will be there.
Maybe he will even remember meeting the girl named Faustina at the head of the stairs and holding her hand.