Behold a Pale House: Fog on the Coast

It was foggy this morning – a perfect envelope of water vapor. The fog horn from the John’s Pass Bridge moaned ominously. For a few hours, we lived in a pale watercolor world.

Then the sun gained enough strength to restore the pure bright hues of a winter day in Florida, and everything went back to normal.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the sun.  But there was something curiously comforting about the unusual stillness and seclusion while I sat quietly sipping my coffee.  It was a little bit like being snowed in – but without the pain of having to dig your way out.  If Mother Nature wants to isolate me  from the rest of the world, I’ll take fog over snow  every time.

Let it Snow – Somewhere else!

Christmas in central Florida is different than Christmas in northern climes.  The biggest difference it doesn’t snow here.  But some folks just don’t seem to get that.  I guess it’s because so few of us are native Floridians and so many are transplants from colder states.  When people come here, they bring their Christmas traditions with them – and their decorations.  When they buy new decorations, they buy the same kind they would have purchased “back home.”    It drives me nuts.

 

The northern holiday genre is all about sleighs, mittens, hot cocoa, crackling Yule logs, icicles, and of course snow.  But, as I pointed out earlier, it doesn’t snow here.  And yet, people feel compelled to put snowmen all over the place.  Snowmen with mittens even!

Snowmen in inflatable plastic globes with Styrofoam snow blowing inside! Snowmen sitting not on snow-covered lawns, but in flower beds, and on grass! 

 

 

Give me a break people. Does the term incongruous mean anything to you?

 

There are plenty of authentic Florida things available for holiday décor. Pine trees grow here.  So do mistletoe and holly.  Poinsettias – duh.  Magnolia leaves make stunning boughs and wreaths.  Palm trees look great decked in colored lights.  But leave the snowmen packed.  They just look stupid.  If you need snow to celebrate Christmas, you came to the wrong place.

Deck The Balls: Did You Run Out of Places to String Lights?

I love walking Allie in the early evening past all the lighted houses. Some are just so pretty.

But I have to admit that I did a double-take when I saw this:

 

C’mon people.  I’ve heard of putting “Christ” back in Christmas, but “Kobe”? “Kareem”?

 

 

 

 

Piling On: What To Do With All Those Leftover Pieces

Most folks who live on the water have a dock.  In order to build a dock, you need to sink pilings.  Once the pilings are sunk, you have to cut them off to the right height, because they are always too tall.  Then the question arises – what to do with those big chunks of perfectly good water-proof wood? 

 

The answer of course is to put them to some good use.  Piling pieces are plentiful here.  In fact, we have a veritable plethora of pilings.

 

Some serve as mail box bases:   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Some denote the end of a person’s property.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They can be used to mark your entry.

 

They make good decorative fences and retaining walls.  

 

They hold up raised flower beds.

 

You can paint them, or add little sculptures. 

 

 

In my neighborhood, folks have pretty much limited their use of  piling pieces to the catagories above. Way to recycle, guys!  But I keep searching for really unique ways to use pilings. If you see any, let me know!

 

 

The Weather Outside is Frightful – Somewhere Else

Now THIS is why I live in Florida.   

Looking west off the bedroom balcony

 

 It’s almost the middle of December, the windows are open, the sun is shining, and I’m wearing shorts.  I know that if I go outside, I will not only find plenty of green things, but actual flowers! 

 

 

 

On the corner

Meanwhile up in my old home town, it’s 27 degrees, the trees are all naked, and underneath the snow that is currently falling, everything is brown. Not only is it cold there, it’s icy and windy. There’s actually a “winter weather advisory” in effect and schools are closed.
 

 How I do NOT miss those days of getting up at 5:00 am to snow-blow the driveway so I could get my car out of the garage, driving through salt-induced slush to get to work (in the dark, I might add), then leaving work at 5:00 p.m. to find my car had been snowed on or was iced over, cleaning it off  (again in the dark),  making the trek back home, and then doing it all over again the next day.

 

 My neighbor has this sign outside.

 I chuckle every time I see it, then involuntarily shiver at the thought of all those brutal winters I endured when I was young.  How well I remember spending the night curled in a fetal position to conserve body heat, despite the fact that my sister and I were snuggled under “old Buck” plus at least two other of Grandma Maggie’s quilts stuffed with wool from Grandpa John’s sheep.  There was no heat upstairs, so we’d throw our clothes on as fast as possible while standing next to the stove pipe from the wood-burning stove in the kitchen that ran through our room.  If it was cold enough, and there was LP gas in the tank, my mother would turn the oven on and we’d drink our hot cocoa sitting in straight-back chairs with our feet propped on the open door.

 

The good ol’ days?  I think not.  

 

I LOVE Florida!

 

 

“Sign of the Times”

Today, as Allie and I walked the neighborhood,  I saw this bright red and green sign in a nearby yard.

I knew immediately the sign owner was a Republican.  The conservative talk show hosts have been blanketing the airwaves lately with their annual rant about the alleged “war on Christmas.”  I’m really sick of hearing them keep insisting that Christmas as we know it is in mortal danger from “secular progressives.”  

I don’t know where this sign came from, but I do know Bill O’Reilly is selling “We Say Merry Christmas” bumper stickers on his Web site.   Nothing like sticking  a sign in your front yard or slapping a decal on your car like a glaring “up yours” to get people in the holiday spirit.

I just can’t understand why a person would feel so threatened by “non-believers” that they’d feel compelled to publicly defend their allegiance to Christmas by planting signs like this one.  I mean whatever happened to nativity scenes, Christmas trees,  and over-the-top lighted displays as a way to let everyone know you’re a Christian celebrating a Christian holiday?   At this house, the sign was the only “decoration” in evidence.

To me, proclaiming your dedication to a specific Christian rite in such an “in your face” manner  doesn’t exactly seem like a very Christian thing to do.   Instead, it seems to me a passive-agressive way of announcing “my religious beliefs are the ‘right ones’.” 
 
Imagine the howls of protest if Jewish people started putting up signs in front of their homes proclaiming,

In this house we don’t believe in Jesus Christ.
Happy Hanukkah!

What if Muslim families planted yard signs saying,

In this house we celebrate Eid Al-Fitr!
“Kul ‘am wa enta bi-khair!”

I say let everyone celebrate whatever holiday they want in the way they want.   Be you Christian, Muslim, Jew, Buddhist, Druid, Wiccan, or even Scientoligist – whatever flavor you prefer, I absolutely affirm your right to choose and to publicly proclaim your choice.

But I get upset when that proclaiming starts sounding like a put-down of others’ choices. 

There is  is a way to to combine loyalty to your own traditions with reverence for those of others, but sticking signs in your yard touting your personally preferred practices is NOT it.  Still, this resident certainly has the right  to exercise  his freedom of speech, even if his message is a bit smarmy.

Call me a cynic, but when I see things like this sign, I can’t help wonder if the “Christian” who owns it is the kind that goes to church on Sunday then hates his neighbor the other 6 days of the week.

“When faith is replaced by creed, worship by discipline, love by habit… when faith becomes an inherited heirloom rather than a living fountain; when religion speaks only in the name of authority and rules rather than the voice of compassion, its message becomes meaningless.”
- – Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel

I’m just sayin’…

It’s About Time

First rule of blogging – once you start, you have to keep it up.

I thought I was ready.  My brain had other plans.  It decided to tell me I had the flu – when I actually didn’t.  Seems the side effects of discontinuing the medication I’ve been on for five years, and can no longer afford to take, being jobless and all, is the illusion that one has the flu. 

Although it was “all in my head,” the symptoms were excruciatingly real.  First, a “run over by a steam-roller”  feeling where every bone and muscle hurt, then fatigue so overwhelming that simply walking seemed too much of an effort, then dizziness – but only when I turned my head or moved my  eyes too quickly.  The only thing missing was a fever.

Any other time, I’d have just gone to bed for two days – but, the symptoms began Thanksgiving morning.  So I had no choice but to tough it out.   Thursday was easy, since we were hodlig off the “big” celebration until Friday.  Still, there was dinner to make, and the old folks were invited.  I went to bed right after.  Friday I cooked and prepped from 9-3.  Then spent another  hour and a half cleaning up.  Tried to smile throughout.  Failed.

Although I started getting better on Saturday, the dizziness  and tireness persisted all weekend.  Five days down the drain. 

Then it was time to start fixing up what used to be our rent house, which needs lots of paint touch ups and other cosmetic work if we expect to sell it.  Five days worth of non-stop work later, it’s looking pretty good.  Time well spent, but alsoo time away from real life.

So here I am, ten days after my first entry, just now making my second post.  But  – do I really have time?    I should be getting ready for Christmas.  Usually, I’d have my decorations up and my cards out, but I have yet to start on anything.  I also need to unpack the boxes of kitchen stuff from the “old”  house and get it organized.  Not to mention the “regular” work of sweeping, laundry, etc.

I’m hopelessly behind. 

I’ll do better in the future.  Cat boxes need cleaning. Groceries need buying.  And blogging is not getting that done. 

Some days I wish I were Allie.

Allie In her nomal daytime position

Castaways

I was born about as far from the ocean as you can get – in Iowa, for Gods’ sake.   Who’da thunk I’d end up 3 feet above sea level in a tiny town that is just 3.2 square miles – only 1 of which is land.  When I look out my back door, this is what I see.

The View From My Back Porch

Although I’ve lived lots of other places, including California, the Chicago suburbs, Dallas, and even Germany, living at the beach is unlike anything else I’ve every experienced.  It’s a whole new lifestyle.

Allie, my retired racing Greyhound, and I are slowly exploring the people and places that now constitute our neighborhood.

I’ll be chronicling our adventures in this weird and wonderful place where sand and water-related things have replaced what I used to think of as “normal.”  I hope you’ll come along with us, and share your own experiences along the way.