Driving Along in My Automobile

Driving along in my automobile with no particular place to go. (Just try and get that little ditty out of your head today.)

Oh right, I do have a place to go. I don't know when I'll get there. I don't even know which route will get me there. (Retirement people.) I do know that since The Kid wants all of that spacious comfort on the driver's seat to himself I need something to do. Thus I bring you Drive By Shootings, Vol. II.

Taken somewhere in Georgia.....

Rural Roaming

No Brown Here

It's a Hot One

Old Glory

Isn't that just the cutest little nose you have ever seen? You don't have to answer that. I know it is.

Sayonara

The Pilgrimage, Take I

The storm shutters are hung, the water turned off, the tv is unplugged and all of the doors and windows are locked down tight. The beast is also packed - tight as a tick. I don't think we could possibly fit one more thing in the trunk,

the back seat, or for that matter the front seat either. Poor little Henna was squeezed in between the sleeping bags, a suitcase and the toolbox. There was enough room for her to stand up, turn around and lay back down again. It was adequate but not the spacious accomdations to which she has grown accustomed. The only one who wasn't cramped was the driver. Of course the good news is I knew I would not be required to get behind the wheel on this trip. Not after I saw The Kid stifle a yawn and glance my direction. His expression said it all. I knew he would rather drive for 10 hours than attempt to find a place for his long legs among the camera bag, the laptop, the purse and the magazines. He opted instead for a little caffeine.

Early (well almost) yesterday morning we began what hopefully will become the annual pilgrimage to Pymatuning Lake. We have a couple of i's left to dot but I think the t's are all crossed. We should become the official residents of the "little red cottage" in two weeks.

Of course we all know it ain't over til it's over and all that jazz. But I think I hear the fat lady tuning up her vocal chords.

The Rest of the Story

Ever since the "On the Cheap" post appeared, The Kid has been encouraging me to come clean. Confess my sins. Admit the error of my ways. And so I shall.

After our very budget conscious dinner, The Kid was here.

Kicked back with a $1 after dinner beverage.

And I was here.

What can I say, it was their summer sale. I hang my head in shame. I am a budget buster. A senseless sinner. I am without will power. Unable to resist the lure of retail. Defenseless in the face of a good sale. I am broken and humiliated.

But dang my new pants are sweet.

And now you know...(typed in my best Paul Harvey voice), the rest of the story.

Bits & Pieces and Frowny Faces

Our girl is still not quite up to snuff since her traumatic experience at summer camp. I think it's time to visit the vet....just to be sure there are no lingering health concerns as a result of her stressful incarceration.

There are also some notable changes in her behavior. She has always been on the independant side but now she keeps her nose close to me.

If I'm working on photos, she's under the desk. If I'm in the bathroom, she's in the bathroom. If I'm in the kitchen, she's lurking just around the corner where she can keep her eye on me. (She's not a fan of the kitchen for some strange reason.) She has become a velcro dog. The kind that sticks like glue.

She has also developed the cat-like habit of cleaning her paws.

Constantly. Perhaps she's trying to remove the remnants of doggy camp. I'm not certain. I do know it is annoying. I keep telling her that it is very undog like behavior. She pays me no mind, goes right on with her housekeeping.

Miss Henna also has quite a collection of charms.

Instead of a charm bracelet, she has a charm collar. There's a charm from GRIN (Goldon Retriever Rescue Naples) of which she is a card carrying lifetime member. First and foremost she is a GRIN dog. If we give her up; we have to give her back. Who are they kidding, give up our girl? Never.

There's a charm that indicates she is micro-chipped. One of those little chips was placed somewhere in her back which would allow her to be traced to GRIN should she get lost. And then we would probably be in BIG trouble.

Of course she has her Rabies tag, standard dog wear and finally her name charm. This is the most important one because this one has my phone number on it. Just in case she bolts and forgets where she lives or is visiting, Mama is only a phone call away. I am comforted by that thought.

But this sad face needs to go.

Actually she looks like this most of the time when she isn't excited about going for a walk or getting a cookie. It is in the gene pool she inherited from the Duck Tolling Retriever side of her heritage. I was relieved to know that little tidbit because for an entire year I thought she was an unhappy little girl longing for her foster mother. Turns out her mouth just naturally turns down.

I'm sure you too will sleep better tonight just knowing that fact.

On the Cheap

What do you do when you live in paradise, have a desire to get out of the house for dinner and only have $10 remaining in the food envelope? Trust me, I double checked, there was only $10 left.

That's exactly the position The Kid and I found ourselves in last night. After desperately searching through old purses and pants pockets for more cash and coming up empty, we knew there was only one solution....Nacho Mama's. For a mere pittance you can eat like a king, as long as you are prepared to eat a little early in the evening, like 4:30 p.m. early.

But who cares if we have to eat like old folks, we didn't have enough cash to eat like respectable working folks. Seriously, how can you beat $1.00 tacos, $0.50 hot wings and $1.00 drafts. And besides we're not respectable working folks, we're retarees on a budget. Ain't no shame in that.

However I did get a little embarassed when The Kid asked if there was a senior discount.

A Gnaty Tale

I have been dealing with the aftermath of the heavy rains we had earlier this week. GNATS. Millions and millions of gnats floating in my pool. Millions and millions of gnats swirling round and round because the skimmer isn't skimming...too much water. I believe the screen enclosure surrounding our pool is the Mecca for all of gnatdom. There must be some sort of edict that all gnats must assemble on our pool enclosure in order to gain entrance into gnat heaven.

When it rains, as it did earlier this week, those millions and millions of tiny critters slip through the screen and plunge to their deaths below. I wish they would remember that they have wings. I wish they would remember they have wings and use them. We could avoid a lot of heart ache if they would. But they don't. I guess it's part of gnat martyrdom or something.

Picture me, all set to cool off in the pool on a scorcher of an afternoon. I have assembled my raft, my cold beverage, my sunglasses and my magazine only to have the the respite interrupted by mass gnaticide.

I am faced with two choices; go back inside into the cool comfort of air conditioning or spend my quiet afternoon scooping and straining those little buggers out of the pool. I went with option two. My pool boy was otherwise occupied.

And so I stood, for hours, scooping and skimming, scooping and skimming. I didn't have to move. The gnats kept coming, circulating around and around. And I believe reproducing in the process. Makes me dizzy thinking about it. I know I should have given them a proper burial, dug a hole, said a prayer. But it was getting dark and I needed to get inside, wouldn't want to run into any snakes.

It's a jungle out there.

Emily Elizabeth

I believe I mentioned that there was a mountain of photos for me to sort through as a result of our recent trip north. I had several photo shoots with family and friends and have finally had the chance to begin the post processing phase of photography. (Something I enjoy as much as taking pictures.)

Miss E was very excited about her date with the camera, that is until the appointed time arrived. By then she was over it, had other things on her mind and just wanted me to move along and leave her alone. Emily is about as independant a young lady as I have ever met and stubborn as 3 mules. She can also be sugar & spice and all things nice when she's in the mood. She wasn't in the mood.

I mention all of that because the camera loves this little girl. Because in spite of her less than enthusiastic approach to our time together I was able to capture some pretty amazing shots of Miss E. (And I'm only half way through them.)

Between the whining and complaining there were moments of sweetness, of giggles and smiles and little girl charm.

Moments of deep thought,

and moments when you wondered why she didn't enjoy it more. She's a natural. Just look at this expression.

She's bright and witty and fun, imaginative, independant and sassy.

She's our Emily. A little girl who is her own person full of hopes and dreams. A little girl who wishes on stars.

And we love her just the way she is.

Well, maybe a little less stubborn would be nice.

The Good, The Bad & Invest 94L

Thanks to Invest 94L, which seems to have stalled over the Gulf of Mexico for the past 3 days, we have had nothing but rain since our return to the island. It is one of the things that I don't like about living in south Florida. The earlier part of the summer is wonderful, warm Gulf water, no snow birds, no crowds, 2 for 1 dinner specials at our favorite restaurants, lazy afternoons floating in the pool. Then along comes August, the heat and humidity are over the top and the storm clouds gather. If tropical activity is out there we're going to be on the receiving end of it in some form or fashion. Like yesterday, when it rained all day long. No violent storms, just wave upon wave of heavy rain showers.

However, I have it on good authority that high pressure is building in and it is going to be a beautiful day today.

If that good authority is actually accurate and we all know about those weathermen...they don't always get it right. Not even close. But if today is one of those days, and I'm choosing to go with the glass half full here, I'm heading to the beach. Or maybe, just maybe, I can talk The Kid into a little boat ride around the island this morning.

Yes, it's good to be back home, Invest 94L and all.

1,000 Faces Update & Henna too

I should be getting better at this. I'm not. I am very uncomfortable asking people, even those I know, to allow me to photograph them for my little project. And what's worse is that I transfer that insecurity to others causing them to be uncomfortable with the process. I need to work on this.

I get the best results with my little 50mm lens. It is sharp and allows me to shoot in very low light. However, it means I have to get physically close to my subject which in turns increases their level of discomfort. It's one thing to have the technical knowledge, it's another thing entirely to put it all into practice.

I'm finished whining now so on with the show:

Bob

Bob, Bobby, Dad, soon to be grandpa.  Husband to Audrey, father to Kylie and Tyler.  He is full of life, fun, energetic, excitable, dependable, caring and has been a good friend for a very long time.  There are many stories to tell on Bobby, none more famous the the great trek over the sand dune at Cape Cod way back in 1973.  The beach is just over that dune he said, and so we all set out, like 4 pack mules loaded down for a day at the beach.  The dune was high and trecherous, I wasn't certain I would make it to the top, but I did.  We all did, only to find there were six more sand dunes of similar proportions between us and the beach.  Leadership may not be one of his better qualities but he sure is fun to be around.  Love ya Bob.

Kylie

Kylie, daughter to Audrey & Bob, sister to Tyler, wife to Louie and soon to be mom to Rocco.  (Don't ask, it's a long story.)  Kylie is much like her father, high spirited, fun, lively, bright and enthusiastic.  I think she's going to make one fine Mother to little Rocco.

Tyler

Tyler, son to Audrey & Bob, brother to Kylie.  Tyler is soft spoken like his Mom, quiet, introspective and thoughtful with a killer smile.  I still can't figure out how's he remained unattached all these years.  Ladies, where are you?

Betty

Betty, Bets sister to Audrey, wife to Randy.  Betty too is quiet and somewhat shy but behind that sweet, soft spoken demeaner hides a will of iron.  It was great reconnecting with her at Hilton Head after such a long time.

Randy

Randy, husband to Betty.  I just met Randy this past week and I've gotta tell you he is one unique character.  Meant in a good way of course.  Randy is fun and funny.  He's often funny when he doesn't mean to be which makes him all the more funny.  Does that make sense?  It was a pleasure meeting you Randy, lets do it again soon.

Bruce

Bruce, Dad, brother to Audrey & Betty, husband to Tracy and father to Allie and Adam. Bruce is the serious one, the attorney, intelligent, and hardworking. In fact he was up early each morning hard at work while I was stumbling around looking for my coffee. Oh and he is one heck of a sand castle builder.

Tracy

Tracy, Mom. Tracy is wife to Bruce. She is strong willed, energetic, motivated, talented and has the ability to laugh at herself. Something I have to work at very hard. Tracy is the one you want on your team. She is the one who will push until the job is finished and done right. I believe she could move mountains just because she wanted them out of her way.

65 down - 935 to go

For those who have been emailing and calling to check on Henna, thank you. Physically she is much better since we picked her up at the kennel last Friday afternoon. She is eating normally and all signs point to an acute colitis as a result of stress. The sparkle is back in her eyes but emotionally she's not quite over it yet. She's still a little remote, not yet her old self but we see progress every day. I'm pretty certain by next week or sooner she will be back to normal. I'm also certain that we will never board her again.

As Luck Would Have It

Are you superstitious? I'm not, or I wasn't until last night. The Kid and I were sitting on the couch kibitzing about this and that when suddenly we were startled by a loud crash. Loud enough to jolt Henna out of her sound sleep and loud enough for The Kid & I to wonder out loud "what the hell was that?"

Upon closer inspection we found that one of the closet door mirrors in the guest bedroom had come tumbling out of its casing crashing onto the iron bed frame and shattering into a bazillion pieces. We live in an older home, 1960's old. The sliding doors on this closet are mirrored and ever since we had the new carpet installed over a year ago, there have been issues. Like they didn't fit right anymore. Like the mirrors were popping out of the bottom of their casings. The Kid had repaired them once... with duct tape. Hey, it works. But apparently the weight of the mirror was too much for the tape resulting in the crash and devastation in our guest room.

I guess I should be thankful that we are guestless right now. Wouldn't that wake you up in a hurry? Not to mention the law suit that might be forthcoming as a result of someone picking glass out their... pajammas.

My solution - close the door. If I couldn't see the carnage then maybe it would go away on its own. Besides I didn't want Henna to cut her cute little paws on all of that broken glass. She has had enough trauma in her life for one week. But surprise, surprise...this morning it was all still there.

I couldn't put it off any longer. I drug in a trash can and began picking up the bazillion and one shards of shattered glass. All the while wondering just how many years of bad luck a mirror of this size would bring? It dawned on me that I may never see the dawn of good luck again in my life time.

With that in mind I spent the remainder of the day on my knees in the front yard searching frantically for a 4-leaf clover. The Kid informed me we don't have any clover in our yard and most likely there is none in south Florida. I'm now looking to buy a pig. Yes a pig. Pig's are considered good luck in Germanic cultures. (I've done my research.)

But, I'm holding out for a 4-leaf clover...I don't think a pig will fit in my purse.

Audrey

Audrey

Audrey, Aud, Wife, Mom, soon to be grandma, friend. What do you say about someone who has been with you since the dawn of time? She is soft spoken, intelligent, attentive, fair minded, talented and patient. She is wife to Bob, Mom to Kylie and Tyler and best friend to me.

Growing up my house was her house and vice verse. Her family was mine. She was my Dad's 3rd daughter. He spoke of her that way. I'm not certain she knows that, but it's true. We logged endless hours on the phone, shared secrets, and hopes and dreams. When graduation rolled around we vowed to stay in touch.

Even after we were both married with children we vacationed together. We camped along the banks of the Susquehanna River, hiked sand dunes on Cape Cod, soaked up the sun on Hilton Head. They moved every year or two. We followed them. We saw the country through their moves, Chicago, Cincinnati, Philadelphia, New York City, New Hampshire. We missed Minnesota and Boston and it took us awhile but after 20 years we finally made it to Connecticut.

But as is usually the case with time and distance our relationship stumbled a bit. There were jobs to work and teens to raise and we slowly lost touch. Not completely, but what had once been a thriving friendship was relegated to a quick lunch whenever we were both in town. That changed last summer.

They visited us in Maine, we spent a long weekend in Connecticut. And then there was Hilton Head. It was an off-hand invitation made only a few short weeks ago to join her family for their annual pilgrimage to the island. We hesitated for about 5 seconds and before we knew it another a Hilton Head reunion was in the books.

She mentioned yesterday that it has always been her hope that once our children set out on their own we would see each other more often - perhaps vacation together again...and so we have. But I have a feeling that now that this door has swung open again there will be no closing it. Like a bottle of fine wine that has aged gracefully on the shelf, our friendship has been uncorked and allowed to breathe again.

I couldn't have made it through high school without her. My life would have not been as full if I had never met her. She was there for me at 16 and she'll be there for me at 60. Who could ask for more?

I love you Aud, and I know a little red cottage on Pymatuning that can't wait to meet you.

44 down - 956 to go

Under the Weather

We had to board our sweet Henna last week. Our usual m.o. if she can't travel with us is to leave her at home with a pet sitter. It works well and she seems no worse for the wear. However for our stop in Hilton Head we didn't have much choice but to board her in a kennel.

We told her she was going to doggy camp. When we left her on Sunday her stubby little tail was wagging as they led her off. I think there was so much commotion that she didn't realize what was happening. When we picked her up on Friday afternoon it was a whole different story.

There was no tail wagging, no excited jumping, no happy to see us greeting, just a vacant stare. As soon as we got outside there was some bloody diarrhea and I was upset. I was assured by the gentleman manning the checkout process that there had not been any physical issues with our girl but I'm not certain I'm buying it. Henna was stressed. She was physically ailing, emotionally beaten, and her trust in us had taken a big hit.

In case you are new to the blog, Henna was a rescue. We know little about her first year of life other than she was turned into a kill shelter with two puppies. The shelter planned on keeping Henna's off-spring but our little missy was scheduled to be euthanized. It was then that Golden Retriever Rescue of Naples swooped in and saved her. She was in a horrendous physical state and emotionally she was remote. We believe there was abuse in her past.

We have had her now for almost 4 years. She is beyond measure the sweetest and most gentle dog we have ever owned. It took time to get her to trust us and recognize us as her people. Who knows what kind of terrifying dog memories were awakened by her recent ordeal. I want to be clear that I do not think that she was mistreated at the kennel. I believe she just can't handle the noise, the commotion and the cage.

This morning she is eating normally again and the bloody stool has disappeared but she's still not herself. Yesterday she wouldn't even look at The Kid when he got up in the morning. She usually follows him around until he stops and has a good morning conversation with her. Now she keeps to herself much like she did the first couple of months that we had her. I did manage to get her to play a little last night and this morning she was wagging her tail when I got up...I am hopeful that within a few days our sweet Henna will return to her pre-doggy camp state.

I told her if she gets over her mad I will never, ever send her to camp again. She's taking it under advisement and will get back to me. I just hope it's soon. I miss her.

Hilton Head in Review

We arrived home late last evening. After a 3-week road trip that morphed into 6, it felt good to sleep in my own bed. The whole blog thing got shoved to the rear of the bus as the trip wore on. It began in Alabama when I failed to plan ahead for the possibility that Internet access would be non existent. But in all honesty it continued as the distractions mounted. The distractions of the little red cottage and visiting with friends and family.

I have a mountain of photos to get through. They're coming people, really they are. And I have to begin preparations to head back north the end of the month. We are hoping to close on the cottage the week before Labor Day. I won't promise every day updates but I will try.

Being back at Hilton Head with the Jameson family after a twenty year absence was wonderful. Once you cross into the area of Hilton Head known as Sea Pines Plantation it is as if time has stood still. The foresight the developers had when they planned this community in the early 1960's is amazing. No building can be taller than the trees (Marco Island should have taken note of this one), homes must be painted the colors of nature, signs are small in scale and blend beautifully with their surroundings. Bike paths wind their way in and out of the woods and are heavily utilized. With the exception of some newer, larger homes it all looks very much as it did twenty years ago.

Relax and enjoy some of our 2010 Hilton Head memories:

Poolside Planter

Calabogie Sound

The Salty Dog -he's everywhere!

Marsh Grass

The Gypsy

The master at work.

Carolina by Design

Camp Jameson

Sunrise

Louie vs the Turtle People

If you aren't familiar with coastal rules and regulations you may not be aware that sea turtles are protected. These magnificent creatures are on the brink of extinction and in a well regulated bid to save them "lights out" policies have been instituted along our nation's shore lines.

It works something like this...Mama sea turtle makes her way on shore sometime late in the spring. She plods along in the sand until she finds just the right spot to lay her eggs, usually near the dune line. She digs herself a comfy little nest in the soft sand and deposits her future offspring. The eggs are covered over and Mama makes her way back to the sea, content in the knowledge that she has done her part to insure the survival of her species.

Many weeks later tiny sea turtles hatch from their protective shells, dig there way out of the nest and begin the long, laborious journey back to the sea. Instinct has them following the brightest light in the sky, which nature intended to be the moon. Then along came Thomas Edison and the electric light and suddenly the baby turtles are in a sad state of flux. The brightest light in their sky just might be Mr. Smith's mercury, vapor, spot light trained on the nest keeping a watchful eye on the hatchlings progress. The babies become confused and instead of landing safely in the sea they end up on the coast road or in Mr. Smith's swimming pool.

At some point in the past 25 years man has recognized that he just might be responsible, at least in part, for the turtle's dwindling numbers. Thus a "lights out" policy was put into place. The rules state that all outside lights are to be dimmed by 10:00 pm nightly on all beach front property. In addition window blinds and curtains must be drawn to dim the lights from within in order to prevent confusion and catastrophe for the baby turtles. Failure to comply brings the turtle people knocking on your door armed with warnings and citations.

You know where I'm headed don't you? Apparently on our first evening at the beach house we were non compliant. On Sunday afternoon a knock came at the door and we were officially served by the turtle people. They knew we were rookies and gave us the benefit of the doubt by issuing a warning instead of a very costly citation. However, none of this sat well with Louie.

Louie is the son-in-law of our good friends. He is of Italian heritage, large in stature and has advised that he "knows people." For days he has raged on about the turtle people. Railing that now the turtles have more rights than the humans, that it isn't right to have to stumble around in the dark at night in the off chance the little critters might hatch and head out to sea. Everything untoward that has happened this week after lights out has been blamed on the turtle people. Everything from a blown fuse in the bathroom to someone falling backwards into the pool. He has been spoiling for a fight all week, even threatening to leave a light on intentionally in order to bring the "turtle people" out of hiding. Someone is appointed each evening to following Louie around and make certain all of the lights are out and the curtains closed...just in case he makes good on his promise.

He is our very own Don Quixote dreaming the impossible dream, doing battle with the windmills of his mind otherwise known as the turtle people. I am tempted to leave a light on, tempt fate if you will, just to watch the insuing drama. If size and stubborn will are factors I just might put my money on Louie.

Cross It Off the List

Another item has now been crossed off of the "Bucket List."

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to spend a week at the beach in a house that was ocean front. I wanted to sit on the porch in my pajamas, cup of coffee in hand and watch the sunrise. I wanted to listen to the sound of waves breaking on the shore whenever the door was opened. I wanted to be just steps away from a walk on the beach. This week I have experienced all of that and more.

Do you see that little porch area at the top of the steps on the left? It is the perfect spot to relax with that first cup of java and watch the sun slip over the horizon. Most days The Kid can be found in that same spot catching the late afternoon sea breeze enjoying a cold one. (We do have our vices.)

The pool however, is not as inviting as it looks. The water temperature seems to be stuck in the low 90s providing little relief from the overwhelming heat and humidity of the day.

Coastal Carolina

Return to Hilton Head

It has certainly been a summer of nostalgic walks down memory lane. This week we have landed back at Hilton Island island. After a 23 year absence we are finding things to be differently the same.

Our first visit to Hilton Head was back in 1984. Our boys were ages 3 & 5 years. I remember driving into Sea Pines Plantation and being awe struck by the beautiful homes and Spanish moss laden oaks that lined the streets. I also vividly recall The Kid stating repeatedly that we could not stay in such a nice place with our two rug rats. We stayed and the rug rats behaved beautifully. In fact so well that we were invited back again and again.

It was the Jameson family who invited us to join them back in 1984 and it was the Jamesons who graciously extended the invitation in 2010. In the 80s the players rotated from year to year depending on schedules and the availability of funds. But it was always a good time. There was laughter, walks on the beach, good food and a sun burn or two. In that respect nothing has changed.

We have lost several of the older generation including the matriarch and patriarch of the family who started it all. But in truth they are not lost at all. They continue to reside in the hearts of their family and friends, proud of the strong family bonds they established and the Hilton Head tradition that lives on through their children and grandchildren.

Miss A & the G-Man

It was a quick visit and I wasn't 100% but it was oh so much fun. How could it be anything but with these two cuties.

The G-man is an active two-year old imp. He's a happy little guy with a twinkle in those baby blues that can only mean one thing...trouble with a capital T! He is curious and independant but prefers not to be in trouble so rarely crosses line.

Our little blonde beauty is growing up entirely too fast. Every once in awhile, if you look closely you can catch a glimpse of the teen years hovering on the horizon. She is sweet and kind and even more independant than her little brother. I was slack-jawed in awe watching her in the pool. If I thought she was a fish a month ago she is amazing now diving and swimming underwater like a seasoned pro.

I couldn't love them more and can't wait until we see them again...hopefully real soon.