There are several (okay…  two) of us in our family who get really attached to our vehicles, name them and keep them forever or until someone sells them out from under us, literally.  I have a 2002 Pontiac Aztek which I liked right from the moment I first saw it, to the surprise of my husband and the car salesman.  It’s the color of a school bus and has a shape that was very cutting edge in 2002 – so much so that not enough were sold and they quit making them a few years later. I’m thinking it will be a pretty valuable relic someday.  Because of the color I’ve called it Sunny and also because of the color I’ve never had problems finding it in crowded parking lots.  Sunny has aged well over 10 years and 160,000 miles and is still a pleasure to drive, but has had a few electrical/computer quirks. One of them was that the windshield washers quit pumping fluid to my dirty windshield.  I’ve lived with the problem for over six months, always carrying Windex and a roll of towels along, or settling for just being barely able to see.

A couple days ago my AC quit blowing cold (UNACCEPTABLE in Florida) so I took Sunny over to my favorite mechanic, Pat.  Pat is a car’s best friend, and I like to think he’s one of my best friends too.  He refilled my cooling fluid and even divulged his secret supplier of the stuff, Big Lots! He sent me down to get a couple more cans of it and put it in for me. While he was at it I asked if it would be too much of a pain for him to look at my windshield washer.  He had me turn on the engine and work the washer switch while he did his magical procedure – hitting it with a board – yes.  And it immediately started working. It’s something akin to kicking the Coke machine… Another mechanic could have charged me big bucks and given me a story about all the things he had to replace to fix it, but not Pat. And he has always been this way. I’m just saying that this is why Sunny and I consider him a “must have” mechanic.

P.S. Pat only works on a few cars now in his spare time after school.  He teaches at the local tech school and is training more mechanics all his tricks, including how to use boards to fix washer pumps. Yea!!!

I am thankful for the country I live in, the freedom that is allowed to me, the ability to travel and be with family. There is much to celebrate every day, but particularly on July 4th.

The daughter in vet school got back from Ecuador one of the first days of July and we asked if she would like us to come to her house for the 4th and catch up on her news.  She was pretty enthusiastic about the plan which made me feel good.  She is often so busy, stressed and unavailable (not always by her own choice) that it’s difficult for her to have company.  We drove up on Tuesday night and each took a couch to sleep on.  Wednesday, the 4th of July, the first thing on the list, after morning coffee, was spending some time with the horses.  Julie is trying really hard to keep me interested in my horse. Of course, she is interested in her horses too, but especially when I am there she tries to plan a ride for us. It was a beautiful morning, fairly cool in the woods where we rode and there was no reason to run so we didn’t.  I spent a little extra time untangling Andy’s mane and tail and whispering horse things in his ear afterwards. Mission accomplished.

There were others invited to join us for our cookout later in the afternoon so we did the obligatory house cleaning and food fixing. And then it was time for the other “activity” Julie had planned – playing hair salon.  I don’t know what made her think her mother could put highlights and lowlights in her hair. It was probably the video that made it look like a five year old could do it.  Let me tell you, if you haven’t had a lot of practice painting bleach on hair and then wrapping it in pieces of foil, it is hard to do and you are going to wish you had three arms, maybe four. I did what I could (me, who barely combs her own hair) but I was worried I might have done damage to our relationship, or her hair, or both. I found out later from my hairdresser that I needn’t have worried because not much color change takes place unless you take off any previous coloring first. Julie was gracious through the whole thing, for which I am grateful.

The burgers were good, the company was good, the afternoon and evening went quickly.  We left for home and got to sleep around midnight, hoping to be ready for work the next day. The only fireworks we saw were taking place here and there along I-75 as we drove home. It was enough.

For those of you who don’t know what the west coast of Florida is like normally – the water is quiet. Nobody comes here to surf. The beaches are wide and often shallow a good ways out. At Coquina Beach which I pass going to and from work every day, there is plenty of room for people to spread out with their blankets, umbrellas and gear. There are long concrete breakwaters (kind of like piers) that protect the beach sand which the communities regularly pay big bucks to have replenished. Here is a  video of Bradenton Beach experiencing Hurrican Debbie.  I was at a beach access that used to have a bridge over the dunes before the waves washed it away. The beach is totally underwater and the waves actually flooded the roadway in some areas. Tides were 2 – 4 feet higher than usual. 

I do not know what these are but I’ve been walking past them for a couple weeks and finally broke down and took a picture. They are dried and were on a vine on the chain link fence.  Nothing remains to identify the plant but these pretty seed balls.

My life has seemed too busy lately and it’s making me a little desperate.  Today I came home determined to get off my feet and rest a little and I COULDN’T DO IT.  I tried but I was sure there was something urgent that I had planned to do and was not remembering.  So I got up and put clothes in the washer thinking it would help bring it to mind. It didn’t, but I’m glad to have gotten the clothes washed. I think I knew I should write something but I’ve been doing some avoidance behavior and need to get past it.

I gave up and hired someone to help clean up the yard after last week’s wind and rain. It took all of us most of a day to get the tree litter off the lawn and now it’s just in a big pile until I can stuff it in garbage cans and put it out for yard waste collection. It will take several weeks to get it gone because we only have six cans.

Also got the condo paint finished and showed it one more time.  There are 39 steps up to the front door.  I went up and down them 11 times when I cleaned all our tools and supplies out. I am so glad I don’t live there. I make about five trips back into the house every morning for things I’ve forgotten when I’m packing up to go to work – thank you Lord for our attached garage two steps away from the kitchen.

I’m going to think of something very worthwhile to write tomorrow. And then on Wednesday we are going up to have a 4th of July cookout with Julie and whichever friends she can round up. And on Thursday I have a massage scheduled for after work. Mmmmm… need. Friday is haircut day. So you can see it should be a week of taking care of myself and resting a bit. That’s my hope.

We were watching the weather station at home last night like it was a prime time show.  I went to work shortly after and what was on the TV? A baseball game.  I suggested we keep an eye on the weather, in keeping with the flooded roads I’d had to avoid on the way and the tree limbs scattered all over the neighbor’s yard. So we did watch the radar reports of  the storm bands as they swirled around Debbie and up our coast – under a coastal flood watch, a tornado watch, and a severe thunderstorm watch all at once.  How exciting.  And the setting for this drama?  A smallish frame house that sits at the very edge of a coastal bayou surrounded by huge old trees. This place was built way before safety codes were in place and is so close to the water that normal tides occassionally go under the house.  It has flooded a couple of times in the past. We were being warned of tides 2-4 feet higher than normal.

Is it any wonder that when I finally got my quadriplegic client put to bed and laid myself down it was a little hard to drop off to sleep? My little cot is right under a window on the bayou side of the house and everytime I’d hear a crash in the wind I’d shine the flashlight out there to see what it was. The window awnings were flapping, the boat cover ripped and blew off, the mangroves were slapping the house and the wind was roaring constantly and roaring even louder as each storm band went over us. It was creepy. Tons of rain. Things that had floated under the house were bumping and knocking on the floor as the waves washed under.  It could have been a hurricane on top of us as far as I was concerned.

But since there was really nothing I could do about it, except stare at the ceiling with my flashlight in hand and shoes on, I did doze off for about 30 minutes.  And here is the dream I had.   I was looking under my bed, watching the tide rise into the house and through a hole in the floor I saw a piece of fabric which I pulled on – it was a shirt on a person, a drowning person. Actually there were two people and I pulled them up into the house and one of them got into my bed. The other one seemed dead and I decided I had to wake up my client and tell her I was going to call 911.  I went into her room and she was no longer there! Her house had become full of elderly people and surgical patients with nurses taking care of them. Thank goodness I only had to endure this for half an hour – I’m just giving you the bare bones account.

So it was a very high tide. About 4:30 am I started to hear the little sounds like water slapping on the bottom of a boat, coming from the floor of our “house”boat. Thankfully it stayed dry on our side of the floor.  For those of you who have seen this property – the tide was two feet above the retaining wall, level with the front deck, and probably 15 feet up into the yard. 

It continued to rain this morning, and the wind is still here this afternoon although it is milder. We have seen a glimpse of the sun also. This is what it looked like when I left this afternoon.



flooded courtyard on side of house away from bayou




umbrella and chair on a dock that can no longer be seen…




yew trees pretty much destroyed in this yard




walkway to boat now underwater




one side of boulevard impassable




note the high water mark on house



Our first taste of hurrican weather came yesterday and today – nonstop rain and grayness. Today there is wind and a few tornado reports. The oneacrewoods is waving it’s arms wildly – you’d never know the trees were that flexible to look at them.  And of course, I have to drive out to the beach for work tonight.  I’ve been told I should drive the truck because the water is high on the road, and the tide is as high as it has ever been without having to evacuate.  This should be an adventure. 

Spent all day Saturday at the condo cleaning and painting (I do both unlike my friend who says painting IS cleaning and is all you need to do). One more day will finish it and then I need a new renter.  Please come and live in my condo, quickly. It is nice there and every time we go in and get ready for someone new I imagine myself living there and want to do all sorts of cool decorative stuff. 

I think I’m hungry. I should go now.

I think I’m doing incredibly well during this very busy week (in spite of my new awareness of sensitivity to overstimulation – more about this to come, I hope) and it’s nearly over. I have only two, maybe three obstacles left to conquer. It was a tremendous help that I was not asked to work for the last three days.  I’ll get all my remaining hours tonight and tomorrow morning as I do a double. (shoud have had a picture of me ready for work…)

The finished task is VBS, Vacation Bible School.  I just have to say that things have sure changed since I was a kid.  My memories of VBS (although we never called it that back then, it was just Bible School ) are pretty good yet.  I remember being taken there and left along with my siblings who were old enough to go – no parents hanging around that I can remember.  Now, parents and helpers are everywhere. There seemed to be a grownup or a big kid with every three or four little kids. And instead of being like a regular school day, 9 – 3 with a lunch at noon, it’s maybe two and half hours long. The one I was helping with had a 5:30 dinner for everyone before activities started and that was my duty station – serving food.  It was a good opportunity for me to meet new people and work with them long enough to remember who they were. We had some interesting menus, but I have had my fill of pasta in crock pots for a while. (should have had a picture of me picking noodles off my shoes…)

I survived babysitting on Tuesday, rather, the children survived me babysitting them. They made it very easy for me by happily staying in their pajamas all day and watching Netflix cartoons most of the time. I feel a little guilty for not entertaining them better, but I did right by the little guy and sang him to sleep for his nap. I find that “Frog Went A Courtin” is an ingenious tune because it repeats the first line three times with a lot of  mmhmms in between, giving me plenty of time to think of an ending rhyme. I sang at least 30 verses before the eyes stopped popping open.  Sugery went fine for the parent. (should have had a picture of still anesthetized parent being helped into house…)

I was even able to insert an unplanned visit to the eye doctor into my schedule on Wednesday. I’m not sure what is happening to my eyes. The doctor wasn’t sure either, but I’m on some antibiotic and antiinflammatory drops and no wearing of contact lenses for a few days. I have found that my eyes look really, really green when the white part is really, really red.  It’s quite a strange picture and a bit scary. I’m better now.  (should have had a picture of me… no, probably not)

Now to get through the weekend and the remaining hurdles without being overcome. 

I’ve been reading about highly sensitive people and have decided I am one.  I feel like going to bed and pulling the covers over my head.  “The Highly Sensitive Person” by Elaine Aron

Recently slugs and snails have come to my attention – who would have thought?  I always have a problem with them when I mulch with oak leaves, or wood mulch because it seems to give them safe places to stay when it’s hot and dry. Some things you need to know to outsmart these guys.  They build their own highways – those silvery trails they leave behind – that smooth the way for their travels to dinner (your plants). Did you know that it takes about 15 days for a snail to travel a mile? Slugs can do it in only eight days having no shell to slow them down. They cannot stand dry conditions and they do not like to crawl on things that hurt their soft bellies. A little barrier of sand, wood ashes, cinders or slaked lime around your plant bed can often deter them. They like to feed at night mainly and look for places to shelter during the day. So give them some places to hide like a shingle or something similar and surprise them during the day and finish them off. They like a more acid soil too so if you can get some worm castings or other additive that make the soil less acid they will prefer to go elsewhere. Some experts say that the slugs prefer wilted weeds to growing plants, and who doesn’t have some weeds around to lay in their path. And if all else fails, get some snail bait at the garden store. It works fairly well . My info comes from the Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening, copyright 1959 (but slugs haven’t changed much since then).

I usually work 5 hours on four days of the week.  I’ve more than doubled that this week, finishing up with a 16 hour shift last night and today.  Is it called a paradox, or something like that, when you are glad and sad at the same time over a situation?  The work is meaningful, appreciated, financially compensating and within my ability so that makes me glad.  I’m sad at the same time to see my client so dependent on so few people – what a risk for her. And I am sad that it sometimes is so hard for me to serve her and have a life of my own.  My “in the moment” thought is that I am so thankful to be going to sleep in my own bed with no expectation of being needed by anyone for the next 8 hours.  Good night world.