From Where I Stand

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Location: West Coast, Florida, United States

A reader and a writer. A dreamer and a doer.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

The biggest and best news deserves a separate blog post. Finally, after more than a year of lengthy, painful process, Helen is here - here to stay!!!

I have a new neice. My brother and sister-in-law are thrilled but honestly, I think my brother is the most thrilled, although the girl isn't actually HIS blood relation, but Dawn's. It doesn't matter. Dave has always wanted children, and for whatever reason, he and Dawn haven't conceived. But there was John, who is 13 now, and Dave has loved that boy and raised him just like a biological son. Now, Helen will have the benefit of their love and care.

Helen knows that she is leaving her dad for good, but doesn't seem to be all that upset. Probably because her dad was always blowing off his visits, always in and out of rehab and homeless shelters, just living the classic life of a street junkie in NYC. Helen hasn't mentioned her mom lately, and Dave and Dawn aren't going to bring up the subject right away. Helen might as well be a total orphan - mom dead and dad a deadbeat. I know she will have a good life here, with us. She is only 4 years old, so we're hoping she won't be permanently traumatized by her life to date. Things will be stable for her, from now on.

I will be going there next week for a quick visit. I could wait until late July, when I will be going there anyway to fly out of Orlando to the Netherlands, but I just can't wait. Besides, I'm buying a car from Mom's neighbour, and need to go there to pick it up. So, I have two reasons to make the extra trip. I'll post some new pictures of our princess when I get back.

One day follows another, and during this "slow season" the days are running together until they are almost indistinguishable from each other. My sleep patterns have gotten messed up because when I don't have to get up at a certain time, I will sometimes stay up most of the night and then wake a couple hours later, so the next night, I will sleep 10 or 11 hours.

I'm back into reading again. Just can't stop myself from doing that very long. Last summer, when I was working in the British Columbia cherry harvest, I got lucky and found a lot of great used books at Kingfisher Books in Creston, B.C. (Lovely little town, if you ever get the chance to visit, and a terrific cafe/bookstore.) I shipped the books home to myself, and opened those boxes a couple days ago. Canadian writers definitely have a different flavour, and I'm enjoying this! First, I read some Farley Mowat - a book titled "Sibir" about his discovery of Siberia. Then, picked up a book by Margaret Lawrence. After reading her, I noticed I was starting to say "eh" again, and people were looking strangely at me. It doesn't take much for me to pick up that habit, even after 20 years of living in the South. It must sound strange to hear my Southern accent, interspersed with "eh's!"

Next, I thought I would change the mood and started to read some William Faulkner. Beautiful stuff .... elegant words like "slantshimmered" and "lightpoised." a captivating description of a man's face: "hard tough shortchinned face, blueshaven, with a long threadlike and recently staunched razorcut on it and in which the hot brown eyes seemed to snap and glare like a boy's approaching for the first time the aerial wheels and stars and serpents of a nighttime carnival ...."

But, reading Faulkner requires an attentiveness that I'm not willing to invest right now. By the time I pick up a book to read myself to sleep, my mental focus has been fried to a crisp. I will save Faulkner for my upcoming trip. Travelling is a wonderful chance to lose myself in literature like that.

So, I put Faulkner aside and picked up an old favourite - Pearl Buck. I have loved her writing for years, and was delighted to find a collection of old paperbacks written by her that I haven't yet read. I just finished "Dragon Seed." Turns out that it was very timely. The story is about a Chinese farm family who organized and participated in an underground resistance movement against their Japanese invaders. They hid people in a hole dug under their home, smuggled guns, launched nighttime raids on the enemy's bases, and sniped at their soldiers every chance they got. They hid resistance fighters in their hiding place often, and hosted planning meetings.

This is a perfect parallel to my family's story of their involvement in the Dutch Resistance during WWII, which I am writing about. So many of the stories of this ficitional Chinese family are similar to stories I have heard my uncles tell. Hopefully, I will glean a few more such stories on this trip, to include in the book.

The trip is only a month away, now. My heart is already there, and my body is just marking time until I leave. I long for that place again, and those people. I'm doing my work as usual, always taking care to do an excellent job, but my mind keeps travelling ahead of where I am.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

OK, it's time for me to put this out on my blog. I have recently learned that there are other people reading this thing - not just the occasional family member or friend, as I had thought. I've been surprised to discover that my blog has been getting a number of "hits" from people I don't even know, so ....

Anyone who knows me at all, knows that I will never pass up a chance to climb up on a soapbox and "preach" about things that are important. So, for those of you who haven't already received a couple emails from me about this already, please check out this blog which I've been following:

http://trashvoyage.com

I started following this blog as a result of things I have been reading lately regarding the pollution of our oceans, specifically about the "Pacific Gyre" and the horrific accumulation of plastic waste that has accumulated there. The more I research this topic, the more concerned I become. I have even reduced the amount of fish I eat, because I'm worried about whether or not I am ingesting microscopic pieces of plastic into my system.

Some say "knowledge is power" and I agree. "Ignorance is bliss????" Maybe not .....

I firmly believe that the issue addressed on this blog, and the research being done on the mission chronicled in it, is more important than the current economic recession, global warming, the depletion of fossil fuels, the decimation of wildlife species, and so many other issues that are getting lots of national and international attention. CERTAINLY far more important than the death of a tragically disturbed pop star!!

This issue directly affects greater problems such as world hunger and the sustainability of our most basic, necessary natural resource - WATER!!!

Please, visit this blog. Follow it - that is, save it to your "favourites," check it regularly, and check out the various links on the right hand side of the blog. Take a few minutes to view the video logs, so you can get a feel for the scientific motivation behind the mission, and the serious intent of the people involved.

I just can't let this go. It's too important. As a human being, I am concerned about the sustainability of my natural environment and the food chain that supports all of us. As a Christian, I am apalled at our wanton destruction of the amazing, powerful, perfect world that God created. I can only imagine His chagrin as He watches what we are doing to His beautiful creation. What humanity is doing to this earth is comparable to someone painting a moustache on the Mona Lisa. Actually, it's much worse than that, but it seemed like a good way of characterizing the sacrilege.

Earth is called "The Blue Planet" because it has so much water - the reason it is able to sustain so much life. Wouldn't it be a tragedy if, in the future, it became known as "The Plastic Planet" because plastic polluted all that water and killed off biological life forms?

Think about it .....

Thursday, June 25, 2009

It's unbelievable, the way Michael Jackson's sudden death has taken over every facet of the news media, almost as completely as the September 11th tragedy took it over.

He was just one man - a musical talent, according to some, although I have never appreciated pop music. But he was a man with deep-seated psychological problems and personal torments. Not someone our children should look up to as an example.

This media frenzy is completely inappropriate. There is REAL news going on in the world right now, but I can't find out about it, because our stupid media has been taken over by "Michaelmania."

Give me a bloody break!

What about the atrocities in Iran? Darfur? Sudan? What about the millions of displaced refugees, suffering and starving, scores of them dying every day? What about all the orphans in the world, languishing in substandard facilities without proper sanitation or food? What about Obama's plans and actions regarding the economy, health care and foreign relations? What about the horrifying concentration of toxic plastic collecting in our oceans? What about the progress being made in the promotion of renewable energy? What about the Fourth of July coming up, in celebration and support of liberty and freedom, here and all over the world?

Every human life is important and precious, Michael Jackson's included. But his was no more precious than any other, and this media blitz is totally ridiculous.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

The last ten days have been packed full of activity. Dealing with my wrecked car (sniff, sniff.) Dealing with the insurance company. Shopping for a replacement car. Working, eating, sleeping, doing a little laundry .... and through it all, constantly carving out time for my Dutch language study.

I've had no time for friends or recreation. Missed two drum circles, a hike and a canoe trip. Haven't met any friends for a coffee, beer or burger this whole time.

Just finished the second unit of the first level of the language study program. There are six more units in this level, and eight units in the next level. I want very much to get through both levels before July 24, but it's tough going. Some lessons are relatively easy, and I grasp the material quickly. Other lessons require a night of sleep and a second go-round the next day. There's no point going forward if I haven't gotten a basic grasp of what went before.

I'm gonna have to get more strict with myself - might have to stop reading, and do ONLY language studies, until my eyes close each night. Don't know if I am disciplined enough to do this, but I need to try.

Last night and the night before, my dreams were filled with the lessons. I keep waking up with the words and pictures rolling around in my brain, then falling asleep again. I get up in the morning with the stuff still in my head. It's a tortured sort of mental state, but I'm sure it will all be well worth the effort, in the end.

Thye biggest reason for my upcoming trip to Holland is pulling stories out of my relatives there, for the family history book. My aunts keep saying they don't have many stories, but now and then a good one pops out, and I am totally certain that many more are stored in their brains. The only way to bring out the stories is conversation, and in order to have productive conversation, I need to go there with a basic grasp of conversational Dutch.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Had a major disaster last night. Driving home late, after cleaning offices for hours. Almost home, feeling very tired, and a cat ran across the street in front of me from the left. Instinctively, I swerved right. Missed the cat, but my right front wheel went off the pavement and the sand on the side of the road caught it. Couldn't pull it back on the street quick enough and hit an electric pole.

My beautiful car is crumpled in the front. I'm fine. Was driving very slow, because I was on a residential side street, so I suppose it could have been a lot worse - I could have been killed! But .... my beautiful car is severely messed up. It starts just fine, sounds as good as ever, and when the towtruck pulled it out of the ditch, I saw the front wheels turning, so I'm hoping that it will only need body work.

My janitor had been following me all night. I always go in first to do the dusting, polishing, kitchens and bathrooms. He goes in after me and does the heavy work - trash and floors. When I went off the road, I called him in a panic. He was there within a few minutes. Asked me what happened and when I told him he said "Joan, next time, HIT THE DAMN CAT!!"

I know he's right, but how can I do that? I remember my Dad always telling me that if a small animal runs in front of me while I'm driving, I should just hit it, because that is much safer than swerving. But, I always try to avoid critters - like that bird a month ago.

I really need to stop avoiding small animals. How can I retrain my brain?

Today, I'm stranded without a car. My insurance policy includes a rental car, but the rental companies are all closed today.

On another topic .......... I've been following a really cool blog and want to share it with y'all. It's being maintained by a scuba diver who is working with an organization called Alguita to research the stupendous amount of plastic trash accumulating in the world's oceans.

At the moment, he is on a catamaran in the Pacific Ocean to research the Pacific garbage patch. I've heard it is twice the size of Texas - that's pretty big! The wind currents and ocean currents cause all this trash to eventually converge in "patches" on the ocean.

Plastic takes 1000 years to break down completely. At that point, it is still in the water and so it gets into the very systems of the fish and other creatures who live in the ocean. Ultimately, we will end up ingesting it ourselves, when we eat the fish. It is toxic, no matter how you look at it.

Some reports say that plastic waste in the oceans actually weighs more than all the plankton.

This is a serious, scary problem.

The crew of this catamaran will spend the next 2+ months aboard and travel 8,000 miles on this research mission. They left from Los Angeles and right now, they are out in the middle of the Pacific, enroute to the trash site.

Here is a link to the blog, for anyone else who is interested in following it:

http://trashvoyage.com

Enjoy the blog, and please, please, PLEASE: Reduce, Reuse and Recycle. Don't accept those single-use plastic bags at grocery and retail stores - carry your own reusable bags made from something that is 100% biodegradable. Use your water bottles over and over again until they start to leak, then recycle them properly. Any plastic bags that come to you can be recycled also. Don't let them get into the natural environment!

Saturday, June 13, 2009

this morning i found out that on thursday morning, when i was out running errands, there was a MAJOR drug sweep in my city. two houses were raided. cops descended wearing full body armour, including face masks, carrying heavy-duty weapons. they surrounded each house, smashed windows and tossed smoke bombs inside, then broke down the front doors and went in. eight people were arrested - 7 men and one 14-yr-old boy, a son of one of the adult men.

one of the houses raided is right beside mine. the one on the corner. for those of you who know the house, you will know that the owner of the place is infamous for being a slumlord and renting to people of "questionable character."

one of my neighbours watched the raid from her house.

for almost 14 years now, i have lived in this house and put up with the motley assortment of renters in that house, and the one directly behind it. this latest incident helps me feel better about losing this house and having to move away. there have been some pretty rough characters there, and plenty of drug activity in the place through the years. when these last people moved in - a young couple with two toddlers - all of a sudden, the neighbourhood became plagued with late-night prowlers, going into unlocked cars and stealing stuff, or trying to break into locked cars - setting off car alarms at all hours of the night! a few of us took turns calling the sheriff's office to report the problem, all of us suggesting that we had a suspicion our new neighbours were behind it. the local constables responded by sending late-night patrols around the area, cruisers with their lights off just snooping around while we slept. perhaps that helped them to pinpoint the drug activity in this house.

i have always made sure that my Brink's Security sticker was on the window beside my front door, right beside my NRA membership sticker. i always lock my house doors, even when i am home, and i always lock my car, even if i am leaving it for just a minute. i've lived in cities for too long not to be careful!! both the house and the car have alarm systems.

hopefully, wherever i end up living in the future will be in a quieter neighbourhood. i've been comfortable here, with mostly good neighbours - young families, retired folks and a few middle-aged professionals, but there have been a few house that have always been trouble. i won't miss that aspect of life here!

i remember when i was a kid, livinig way out in the country in ontario. we NEVER locked our houses, or our cars. there was no need to. i remember firends who actually left their keys in their ignitions, their cars unlocked and the windows open, overnight. we all kept our house windows open in the summer, to catch the night breeze. there was never a worry. i really miss that feeling of security and peace. now, no matter where i live, i will never have that feeling again. i've seen too much of "the other side" of humanity. it's sickening.

here is a picture of the drug house after the raid. you can see the boarded-up window where they threw the smoke bomb in. you can see the way those people live - all sorts of junk sitting around outside the house, trash cans overflowing. i feel sorry for those two little kids who woke up to a smoke-filled house and cops with masks and guns taking their parents away. both the mother and father were taken into custody.


I planted this jasmine hedge just outside my front door years ago, after spending a few months researching the most fragrant type of jasmine. This one is called "Maid of Orleans" and its fragrance is very sweet and pervasive. When it is in full bloom like this, breathing in the air around it is like drinking flower nectar. You can smell these flowers from 500 yards/metres away, and much further if there is a breeze.

It blooms in cycles year round, but is most wonderful during the rainy season. This is its first full bloom since the rains started, and I'm absolutely delighted!


Friday, June 12, 2009

Deep-fried pickles and fried boiled eggs ....

Worked hard today, and finished late. My back is almost back to normal - still a little bit sore, but basically better.

On the drive home from Fort Myers, I called a couple friends to see if they wanted to meet at a local watering hole for beers and wings.

Martha and Bill met me at Buffalo Chips, the most "colourful" spot in Bonita Springs. It's totally eclectic, and completely unpretentious. Beside the main entrance is a sign that says "An Upscale Dive." It's where the locals - the old-timers, the riffraff, the local volunteers, and occasional celebrities congregate. Bob Seger (remember the Silver Bullet Band?) lives nearby and visits regularly.

We chose an outside table so Martha could smoke. The day had been hot, but there had been no rain and it wasn't humid. The big fans made a nice breeze and it was pleasant, sitting in the shade under the canopy.

Martha started raving to me about something she got there that isn't on the menu, but they will make it for you if you ask nicely. It's dill pickle chunks, battered and deep fried, served with ranch dressing for a dipping sauce. I honestly thought she was joking with me, until it arrived at our table.

I have to confess that I LIKED IT!! Probably won't sleep tonight, with all the grease from the wings and the fried pickles, but - oh, well!

One of the local chicks came in wearing a bikini bathing suit top that was a few sizes too small for her, a ring in her belly button and low-slung pants. She was swearing like a drunken sailor and didn't care who heard her hollering.

Sheila the mail carrier arrived with her husband and sat with us. She had a knee replacement a while ago and is still chewing pain pills. A couple beers, in combination with the meds, did funny things to her speech and facial muscles. I wished her husband would have taken better care of her, but it was none of my business.

Sheila ribbed me about a package she had delivered to my house a week ago. I remember getting that package and being very surprised, because it wasn't supposed to be delivered to my house. I haven't received mail at my house in years, but somehow, things got mixed up and the doofuses in the sorting room put it on her truck. But it's against regulations for her to take the mail truck on a gravel street, and since I don't have a mailbox at the end of the street, she was in a quandary. So, although she didn't have to do it, she got out of her truck, carried the package down my gravel street and put it in front of my door.

As usual, Martha and I talked politics. She is a city councilwoman, running for re-election in January, so we talked about her campaign. Both of us are getting geared up for the campaigns for a few other local and state seats as well. I'm very worried about a couple of those electoral seats. We talked about new and pending legislation, and other community-related things.

After a while, old Corky Mayhew wandered into the joint. He stood at the counter inside and started to order some takeout food, and then, to our amazement, walked around the counter and into the kitchen to supervise. A while later he carried the food out, put it in his car, then headed over to our outdoor table with a mason jar of draft beer in his hand.

Corky is one of the "old Bonita Mayhews" - has bought and sold much of Bonita, over the years, but never lost his good-old-boy aura. His face has turned to leather from years in the Florida sun. His hands and stubby fingers are thickly calloused and his fingernails are stained with machine oil. He pulled a piece of angled iron out of his pocket and started an intense discussion of how he had machined the piece to try and fix an air conditionning unit, but it didn't work. He needed something about an eighth of an inch thicker to do the job.

Corky launched into a story of how he had once made fried hard-boiled eggs. He put a dozen eggs into a pot and went into the next room to watch tv while the eggs boiled. Only thing is, he forgot to put water into the pot. After a while he heard some cracking noises from the kitchen, but had forgotten about the eggs, so he just ignored the noises. His cat started to make a fuss, then she started to yowl and claw the air. A while later, he heard some very LOUD, cracking noises and went into the kitchen to investigate. The pot was red-hot, and the eggs were dancing around in the bottom of the pot. The pot was ruined, but the eggs were cooked nicely, just as if he had boiled them in water.

So much for my social interaction and culinary education on a Friday night with the locals.

I love Bonita Springs, and I love the people here. I love sipping a beer slowly, watching all the people around me. I love the company of good friends. I love going out once in a while and eating greasy food that is definitely NOT good for me. I love going to a place where I don't have to dress up or stand on ceremony, where I can just kick back and laugh.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Contrary to everything I would expect at this time of year, I am still working a little. Between that, my stiff back which is gradually getting better, and studying Dutch, I barely have time to eat or take a shower. (But am doing both, occasionally!)

I finished the sixth Dutch lesson last night. Today, when I was checking out at the store, the cashier girl started counting my multiple items in Dutch. I was so surprised! We had a lively, 10-second discussion while the people behind me got impatient.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

My lower back is slowly -s - l - o - w - l - y getting better. I keep icing it down, periodically, whenever I have an excuse to sit still for a while, which isn't very often.

Meanwhile, I've abandoned my writing for the time being. All my spare time and creative energy needs to be focused on one thing, and one thing only: studying the Dutch language again, preparing for my trip to Holland in less than 2 months.

While clearing out my storage unit, I finally found the boxes with my language learning materials. I'm so grateful that I bought the Rosetta Stone package for Dutch. I've messed around with it before, and spent enough time in Holland to get a basic understanding of it, so I'm not exactly starting from scratch with this.

Last night I spent 4 hours cramming my brain with the language. Figured I should start out with a marathon, to give myself a "jump start." This morning, my head is swimming with meisjes, vogels and tafels. The kit has an accompanying audio cd that I put into my car. I am committed to leaving my cd player turned on for the next 7 weeks, so that as soon as I turn the key in my ignition, the language will be drilled into my brain.

Fortunately, the grammar in this language is uncomplicated and easy for English-speakers to grasp, and the language is reliably, phonetically correct. It's actually a very straightforward language - very sensible and logical.

I'm off to the dentist this morning. Trying to get a diagnosis of why I still have such pain and tenderness in a tooth that I got a crown put on last fall. It's a scary proposition, because the crown was put on in Bulgaria, so there is nobody here who will fix it for free. This could get expensive! Hopefully, I won't have to fly south to Bulgaria while I'm in Holland, to get it fixed. I don't have time to spend there during this trip "across the pond." I have too much to do in Holland, and I also hope to make a quick trip to Prague, in the Czech Republic. No time for dental work this summer!

"Groetjes" (that means "greetings" and is used when saying goodbye, or signing off a phone call or letter.)

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Woke up this morning and couldn't sit up. My back is in agony. It's hard to walk, because I have to hold my body "just so" or I'll have stabbing pain. Sitting is the same. I can't just lean back into a chair, I have to ease back slowly and can only go back so far before I have to stop.

Every move I make is extremely painful.

Owwwwwww!

This is going to be a rough time.

I was going to work today, go to a drum circle this evening, church tomorrow morning, spend the afternoon with a friend and go canoeing tomorrow night for 3 hours. A bunch of people are meeting by the Peace River near Punta Gorda, to paddle in the full mooon.

Now, I won't be doing any of those things.

Friday, June 05, 2009

Woke up this morning with a "BIG HURT." My lower back has been aching a little all week, but this morning I could barely sit up straight, let alone stand. Acute pain - oh boy, I was in serious pain!!

I had a job to do, but lined up a visit to my chiropractor first. He got things straightened up again, after a painful session. I left his office feeling like a piece of raw hamburger, but went ahead to work anyway. At least I could walk upright, and move around again.

After a couple hours, I felt my lower back sieze up again, real bad. I called the chiro back and arranged to have a "redo" in a couple hours. Worked the next two hours in agony, then drove to see him. He readjusted my spine and commanded me not to twist or bend for forty-eight hours. (yeah, right!!)

When I left there, I decided that I totally needed a good massage. I haven't been able to find a good massage person in all the years I have lived here, but I was desperate so I opened the Yellow Pages and started calling.

I found someone who offered a reasonable price, and who was available at short notice on a Friday evening. Figured I would give him a shot (what did I have to lose?) and drove over there. He offered me a discount for an hour and a half, and that sounded just about right.

I had the best massage of my life!!!

That is really saying something, because I have had many, many, MANY massages during my life, from therapeutic massages to relaxing massages to those fancy, trendy treatments where they use reiki, hot rocks and other things - from Ontario, to Florida, to British Columbia, to Holland, to Bulgaria, to France. Given my experiences, I think I am a global connoisseur of massages and chiropractors.

This guy gave me the most awesome massage I have ever received. He turned my spine into a virtual "Slinky." He worked one muscle group at a time, slowly and thoroughly, and then started at the top (my skull) and pulled everything down to the bottom (my toes, literally) without breaking contact. My body felt like a rubber band in his hands. As he worked downwards, I felt my vertebrae separate, one at a time, and felt oxygen rush into the spaces between them (sweet release!) I felt my muscles tense briefly, then relax and rest as his hands moved on. The man is a master! He's been doing it for 30 years, and it shows.

He ended up spending two hours on me. He found every trigger point, every sore muscle and every tight spot, and patiently worked them all out. He even worked out the knot on the trapezius under my right shoulder blade that has defied treatment for 25 years. I tore that muscle years ago, working out with free weights in the gym. It has been a problem for me ever since. He just picked up that muscle and "talked to it" and it relaxed. Amazing!!!

Didn't tell me he was going past the agreed time - just kept working. Didn't charge me more than the price he had quoted me. Of course, I gave him a generous tip - it was appropriate.

I walked out of that clinic without a limp or a hitch, without pain and with a spring in my step. I felt physically reborn. Practically had my tongue hanging out, like a dog that has just had its ears well-scratched.

I'm gonna sleep like a baby tonight!

Thursday, June 04, 2009

After clearing out that storage unit on the weekend, I have been working at sorting through lots of stuff that has just been sitting there for years. This afternoon I have been purging boxes of old papers. I have every tax return I filed since coming to Florida almost 20 years ago, along with every scrap of paper I might need to verify any of the things I claimed on those returns.

The first ten years' of returns fit into two, slim manilla file folders. Then I started the business, and each year the file got bigger.

A couple years, my stupid government passed a law that required me to form a corporation in order to exempt myself (a sole proprietor) from exempting myself from buying workers compensation insurance for myself. That means a LOT more paper, as well as yearly filing fees, yearly reporting fees, and paying an accountant about $750.00 each year to file corporate tax returns for me. I always did my own tax returns, and they were pretty simple, but now there is no way I could do this myself. STUPID GOVERNMENT!

Now, I can only fit two years' worth of paperwork in a large file storage box.

I called my accountant and asked how many years of this stuff I need to keep. He said that the IRS can't go back more than three years, if they audit me. So, I can shred two big boxes of paperwork - that's about 25 pounds of paper! My accountant said that I can drop the boxes off with him, and when their commercial shredder company comes next time, I can have it shredded for free. That will save my little home shredder a lot of wear and tear.

There is always something .... some mindless task to take up my time, when I would rather be reading, writing, canoeing, hiking, brushing Rocco or daydreaming.

But, if I don't do this, I will have to drag around 25 extra pounds of paper with me, wherever I go.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

It's late, and I just finished a very unpleasant task. VERY unpleasant!

For those of you who don't know, the State of Florida has a law called the "Sunshine Law." It was passed years ago in an attempt to circumvent the dirty, underhanded dealings between large land development corporations and the local government officials, who were inevitably "purchased" by those corporations.

The Sunshine Law dictates that anyone in public office must make full and continual disclosure each and every time they discuss anything relating to public business, whether they are talking to a staffer, another elected official, or a member of the public.

Of course, the people who were/are doing the dirty, underhanded business did not, and are not, disclosing anything. But, this law has made things very awkward for those who are honest.

Recently, our city had the bad luck to appoint a real jackass to a position on one of our advisory boards. I wish someone had asked me about that guy. He lives across the street from me, and I know him all too well. I would have begged them not to give him any quarter. But, that is "water under the bridge" now.

This guy created such a mess of the advisory board that it became nonfunctional. He was confrontational in every discussion. Nothing was ever resolved or concluded in the board's meetings because this guy was bent and bound to make the board a soapbox for his incoherent ramblings. He had everyone scratching their heads and ducking for cover. When the city manager's office and a number of other staffers had their fill of the nonsense, they advised the city council members of the situation. Eventually, a few "showdowns" in council meetings convinced the council members that this guy was bad news. He was asked to step down from his position and when he refused, council voted to disband that advisory board, just to get rid of him. A real shame, to be forced into such a rash action because of one, idiotic "loose cannon."

That was just the BEGINNING!!!!!

This guy got so mad about being dissed by council and vilified by the advisory board members that he has gone off on a vicious vendetta. He has filed formal complaints with the State Attorney's office, and is forcing the city to hire an outside attorney to defend its actions and the actions of certain individuals. He is targeting staff and council members, one at a time, to turn over all their email records relating to city business. Technically, he has the right to do this, but it is utterly ridiculous. He doesn't need to present any valid reason for it, he can just do it, because of the Sunshine Law.

This man has lived right across the street from me for ten years, and I know him all too well. He is infamous in this neighbourhood for his craziness. We all avoid contact with him, to the point of taking alternative roads out of the neighbourhood just to avoid him. His girlfriend, when she is not taking her meds, goes nuts and stands in the middle of the street in her nightgown with a baseball bat, blocking traffic and swinging it at any car that tries to pass. We have had her hauled in by the sheriff's office so many times, we've lost track. He got her a position on another city board, but she got thrown off that quickly. When she gets taken into custody, he runs over to the jail and bails her out, then stays in a hotel while she rages around for a while. After a week or so, he comes back and makes her take her meds again, and peace returns to the neighbourhood.

Anyway ........ back to my story .... this afternoon, my representative on city council called me, quite distraught. This nut case is now demanding all of her email records, and that includes anything on her personal, home computer that relates to city business. When I talked to her today, she was almost in tears. She has taken her computer to a tech who says he just can't retrieve those records for her. Seems her hard drive crashed a while ago and the data is not retrievable. So, she is asking everyone who has her personal email address to send her any emails we have exchanged with her regarding city business.

UNFORTUNATELY ...... I save everything - every email I send or receive - every last, blessed one of them - as a matter of course. I know, it's an anal-retentive sort of thing to do, but I do it. I save them in organized files, sorted by the person I communicated with. So, I have a record of every email she and I have ever exchanged. I have spent the last two hours sifting through her file and forwarding all the old stuff back to her. Anything related to city business. I want to be honest, but some of those emails are intensely personal, because she is also a close friend of mine, and I am not sharing those emails. I will NOT publish personal stuff. I sorted out 60 emails that talk about city business, and forwarded them back to her.

Curses on the Sunshine Law. It did absolutely no good at curbing government officials from doing wrong. They continued their "influence peddling" unabated. But in this obscure case, it has caused no end of grief for decent, honest officials and innocent citizens like myself.

I feel personally violated, now. I want to CHOKE that stupid, narcissistic, angry neighbour of mine. I want him and his woman to leave town, for good. I want this all to be over. Next thing, I will be one of the people called in to some sort of kangaroo court, with my personal emails published in the local paper. It's not like I ever wrote anything nasty, or improper, (I didn't) but when I sent those emails, I felt that my privacy was going to be honoured. Now, my crazy neighbour is going to read my emails.

Monday, June 01, 2009

I'm working on my next story today. It's a true story, one that spans 35 years of time. Here is the first draft of my prologue:

We sat on the deck for a long time, saying nothing, just letting the peace and quiet of the evening settle into our spirits. The Canadian geese arrived for their evening visit, quacking and splashing in the creek. Their shiny, green heads bobbed up and down and flitted around as they played. I watched them, mesmerized.

Out of the blue, she spoke. "There's something I never told you."

Startled out of my reverie, I looked over at her. I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was about so say something quite serious.

I didn't reply. What could I say? How could I respond to a statement like that? Didn't I already know everything about her of any importance? Didn't we already share old secrets and memories that nobody else knew about? What could she possibly have held back?

A cool breeze drifted over us like a chill omen and I shivered, waiting for her to continue. She was silent.

"Well, what is is that you've never told me? Is it a secret I don't know about?"

"Yes, that's exactly what it is. Nobody knows but me and two other people, and one of them is dead. But, I'm gonna tell you about it now. You have to swear to me that you will never, never tell anyone else."

"Okay, I promise."

Just like that, I promised. She had frightened me. What was she going to tell me? Had she and someone else murdered another person? Her voice was so cold, so dead, so ominous .... but I gave her my word, not knowing what I was promising. I gave it because of who she was - who we were together, knowing that I would keep my word - no matter what. Some things are just like that.

So, what do y'all think of the beginning? Would it make you want to read more?





Saturday, I cleaned offices all day. It rained most of the day. Rained hard, most of the time. Each time I left one place, I would dash for the car but get wet on the way. Then, another dash inside at the next building. UUUGH! By the time I finished, the rain had stopped and I had dried off to the point of being hot, sticky and damp through all my clothes, but not actually WET. There was no time to change or freshen up before going to the park. The Naples Drum Circle was invited to the park in Bonita, and since I'm a part of the group and it was right around the corner from my house, I wasn't going to miss it. I had loaded my djembe in the car that morning. Meant to go home and pick up my set of tablas, but didn't bother. I arrived at the park exhausted and smelling worse than a groundhog.

This is my favourite sculpture in the park:

People were spread out on the green, enjoying the early evening after the rain. They brought their kids, dogs, drums, hoola hoops, spinners, water bottles and positive attitudes. Some people from the neighbourhood heard the drums and drifted over, on foot, on bicycles and in cars. The crowd got bigger later on, but here is what it looked like when I arrived:

This little cutie was everywhere, jumping, dancing, talking to everybody and smiling all the time:


The next three pictures are of friends. The first is Lisa and her daughter, Bella. They were "with the band" - husband/father is the lead drummer:



Kate was there with her indomitable Cujo:



And Stephanie with her Lab:




I loved watching the "spinners:"





.... and the "hoopers:"




The gal in a blue sarong and purple Crocs is Leandra. She makes custom hula hoops and teaches people how to use them. She got pushy with me and forced me to try. I insisted I can't do it, but that just goaded her to insist more. So, I tried. She explained that I was moving my hips wrong, and taught me how to do it. I got the hang of it a little bit, and it was fun. I discovered that it TOTALLY works the "core muscles." Great workout! I might get her to make one for me. In this picture, she is using two wrist hoops:





This guy cracked me up. As a rule, anyone who smokes cigarettes anywhere our drum circle gets the "bum's rush" but he was sitting far out on the green, so we let him be. He was doing pretty good with the tambourine and drums:



At the heart of it all, holding the beat and making groovy rhythyms on the bandshell stage, were the drummers. There was one other woman there right in the beginning, but she wasn't really playing, just hitting the head of a drum with first one hand, then the other, and not in time with the beat. Besides her, I was the only female that evening. I have gotten better lately. I will never be one of those fancy players, but I've learned to let the group start up and find a rhythym. I listen closely until I "catch a riff" and then I play the simple, basic part, holding the background rhythym. We just play until we "lose the riff," then take a break for a few minutes. Some of us will sit around, banging out our own little riffs, tuning our drums, guzzling water, talking or trying out something with someone else, until one or two people catch another riff and start to "feel" it, then everyone else joins in again. It's all very improvised and instinctual.
Here are "the boys of the band" that evening. It was a small circle, because some of the Naples people didn't feel like driving to Bonita, but we had enough to fill the neighbourhood with sound. I am not in these pictures, obviously, because I was behind the camera!:




We played until it was totally dark, around 9:00, then packed up and went home. All my discomfort from the day, all the stress and crankiness, were gone. I was peaceful, invigorated, and ready to sleep like an angel - and that's exactly what I did! Brushed my teeth, splashed my face with water, and fell into bed without even showering! Was asleep within 3 minutes, slept 8 1/2 hours and woke up Sunday feeling happy and ready for anything.
Scroll down for the blog about Sunday - more pictures and stories!












Sunday was another busy day. My friends Terry and Ronda helped me finish cleaning out a HUGE storage unit I have been paying 'way too much money for. We started last Sunday, with the help of three others and two trucks. I gave away a LOT of stuff that day and moved some into my house. This week, we finished with the help of two others. Everything is pretty much settled into the house now. My old bedroom is piled to the top with stuff, and all the cleaning equipment and supplies are in my study. I packed a lot up a year ago, when I thought my house would be foreclosed on any time. I won't unpack any of it, except for my sewing machine and some books. I will continue sleeping on the sofa, keeping my clothes in a file cabinet and hanging a few things on hooks behind the study door. Won't set up my library again, either. Will leave all my good dishes, crystal, etc. packed up as well as all my expensive framed Florida nature photography and fine art prints. One of these days, when I am settled somewhere else, then I will unpack it all and enjoy it again. That will give me something to look forward to, and some positive emotional reinforcement to get me through the stress of what is coming.

When we finished, Ronda and I made one last trip to take care of her horses - lead them in from the pasture, feed them and bed them down for the night.

Then the three of us drove to a place north of here. This little creek shack has been in operation since 1926. It started out as a dock and bait shack for a tiny little fishing settlement. Some of the original fishermen's shacks are still scattered around. The fishermen gathered for cold beers beside the dock, and after a while, started selling beer to the locals. Ronda and Terry have lived in Bonita all their lives, and heard about this little shack now and then, but never knew where it was. Apparently, those who know where it is don't like to share the knowledge. They like to keep it "their little secret."

All you can buy is beer. No cans, no draft beer, you can only buy it in bottles. If you ask, you can have a plastic tumbler to drink it out of. If, like me, you like to shake a little salt into your beer, the bartender will root around and find a salt shaker for you. The only other luxury is fresh limes. After all, you can't drink Coronas without limes!

Most people drink from the bottle, and they bring their own "coolies" to put the bottles in to keep the beer colder while they are drinking it.

If you buy six bottles at a time, the price is cheaper. Six beers cost $12.00. (That's probably the BIGGEST reason patrons don't want to spread the word - if business picked up and the place expanded, the prices would go up and there would be tourists and snowbirds visiting, throwing their attitudes around, demanding flush toilets and disturbing our peace!)

I was taking pictures, saying "I'm gonna blog about this place!" Ronda and Terry said to be careful not to give away the location, so I won't. It truly is almost impossible to find, unless one knows how to get there.

Here are Ronda and Terry:


Here is the welcoming sign in front of the shack:


In this picture you can see the white bait tank on the left, the red ice chest in the middle and the dock on the right. Behind the ice chest is where they have the beer cooler and a small counter with three bar stools.



The cypress fence in this picture is pretty old and weathered, but still sturdy. Cypress grows with its roots in water. after all.




We sat at the far end of the patio. Here is a long view, with the "bar" at the other end. There are tables along the creek also, but we chose the patio with big fans blowing on us, to stay cooler.




I didn't drink enough beer to trigger an emergency, but Terry needed to use the "facilities." Ronda and I opted to wait.



If any of you visit here and want to see this place, I will have to blindfold you before I take you there, so you can't ruin our local secret! You can be a sport and buy us a six-pack. Whatever we don't drink, we will take away with us.
It was a perfect way to end a day of heat, sweat and hard work.