Pull every pretty vine that tries to take root in your flower beds. Don't admire the leaves and wonder what the flowers will look like. Next thing you know, you'll look around and say to yourself, oh, there's a lyonia under there.
It's going to be a slow road back, but I will reclaim my garden and I will get back in shape. Next month, July 2014, will be the tenth anniversary of my surgery, and I will turn 55 in September.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Summer with Frida
Summer felt like it started in earnest on Tuesday, when Bob went back to work. The vacation was wonderful, and now summer begins. I like to have something to show for my summer days, so yesterday I cleaned the accumulated leaves off the roof. While I have been active in the garden and around the house, and running all the usual errands to pick up groceries and cat food, my new pleasure is reading with Frida in the living room.
Frida stopped coming upstairs to sleep with us about two years ago. We think it was a combination of Nicky being territorial and arthritis pain in Frida's joints. Her heart is not strong, either, so climbing the chairs is a chore. She sleeps in the living room during the day and the TV room at night, snuggling in Bob's lap until he goes to bed. Frida found us in 1995. She is 19 years old. She has outlived three younger cats-- Jeoffrey, Lily, and Rose.
It was last summer that I got up in the night to give Frida the drops that saved her eye from a monster corneal ulcer. She was so happy to have company at night that the third hour when the alarm went off, instead of letting me putter around in the kitchen doing things waiting for 5 minutes between drops, she purred loudly and let me know she wanted to spend those 5 minutes sitting in my lap. That's how we passed the rest of the night doses, just sitting together watching the timer tick off the seconds.
This summer I am really in the mood to read the books I have had lined up on the shelf, books I got from Parnassus Books in Nashville. I started the summer with a gift from a student, The Fault in Our Stars. I was enjoying it but didn't feel like reading it at the hotel last week, so instead I started Mr. Penumbra's 24 Hour Bookstore. I loved it from the first sentence, finished it yesterday, happily enjoying all the homage to Borges, and am now a big fan of Robin Sloan. So today I turned back to The Fault in Our Stars and am once again enjoying it. Both books have a fresh funny style that is perfect for summer, although the book about young love is not as lighthearted as the book about friendship.
The best part, though, is reading in the living room, in a comfortable chair with summer light coming in the windows all around, the green of the garden cooling the view, with Frida happily curled up on her heating pad, or her Purr Pad, or standing or sitting in my lap.
Frida stopped coming upstairs to sleep with us about two years ago. We think it was a combination of Nicky being territorial and arthritis pain in Frida's joints. Her heart is not strong, either, so climbing the chairs is a chore. She sleeps in the living room during the day and the TV room at night, snuggling in Bob's lap until he goes to bed. Frida found us in 1995. She is 19 years old. She has outlived three younger cats-- Jeoffrey, Lily, and Rose.
It was last summer that I got up in the night to give Frida the drops that saved her eye from a monster corneal ulcer. She was so happy to have company at night that the third hour when the alarm went off, instead of letting me putter around in the kitchen doing things waiting for 5 minutes between drops, she purred loudly and let me know she wanted to spend those 5 minutes sitting in my lap. That's how we passed the rest of the night doses, just sitting together watching the timer tick off the seconds.
This summer I am really in the mood to read the books I have had lined up on the shelf, books I got from Parnassus Books in Nashville. I started the summer with a gift from a student, The Fault in Our Stars. I was enjoying it but didn't feel like reading it at the hotel last week, so instead I started Mr. Penumbra's 24 Hour Bookstore. I loved it from the first sentence, finished it yesterday, happily enjoying all the homage to Borges, and am now a big fan of Robin Sloan. So today I turned back to The Fault in Our Stars and am once again enjoying it. Both books have a fresh funny style that is perfect for summer, although the book about young love is not as lighthearted as the book about friendship.
The best part, though, is reading in the living room, in a comfortable chair with summer light coming in the windows all around, the green of the garden cooling the view, with Frida happily curled up on her heating pad, or her Purr Pad, or standing or sitting in my lap.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
The fishing report, part 3
One of the most unusual things we saw on Tuesday was a sea turtle that appeared to have two heads. It was rolling around on the surface, waving flippers in the air. After watching for a few minutes, I realized it was not in distress and was in fact two turtles frolicking together.
Back at home, a few days later, I was walking to the mailbox when something fell from the sky into the grass near the front flowerbed. Two monarchs, firmly attached.
Must be the time of year.
Back at home, a few days later, I was walking to the mailbox when something fell from the sky into the grass near the front flowerbed. Two monarchs, firmly attached.
Must be the time of year.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
The fishing report, part 2
It is so much harder to describe an ordinary day. The first two days of our long awaited week of overnights in Cedar Keys were postcard picture perfect. We motored out to our favorite spots. We fished. We caught fish or not. The mooring we chose was just the right distance or not. We looked around uncovered at the morning and then covered up for the afternoon sun. We paused and gazed.
To write about an extraordinary day is so much easier. On Wednesday, we had read the oracles and understood the risks. "Scattered thunderstorms." We've been there. It's not so bad. But when we got out there, the current would not let us go, we could not tack, and so we made choices. We went behind Atsena Otie toward Snake Key and found ourselves under a black anvil cloud. It delayed and delayed and delayed and then it was right there. We waited ten minutes too long to take down the sails. Then we waited twenty minutes too long to abort our run to safe harbor at Snake. Then we were fighting the wind rain was driving horizontally from right to left the boat was heeling over then turning into the wind then heeling I was tying the mainsail I was holding the jib I was waiting for the captain to tell me to drop anchor and bring the bow into the wind. Mostly I later realize I was grinding my right lower ribcage into the top of the cabin and holding on for dear life. When the worst was past I said to the captain, should we drop anchor? He agreed, and even though the anchor did not hold fast in the wind, and we saw that our position shifted, I knew we were safer and going to make it when we pointed into the wind.
The captain kept a calm head throughout the storm. He was determined to make it back to shore under our own power. The jib halyard had got loose during the storm and when he started up the motor he found it wrapped around the prop. He realized the jib halyard had come loose and he was not going to budge without reattaching it to the mast. That meant the mast had to come down.
We demasted. The captain relined the jib halyard. We raised the mast. My part was very small. I don't have the strength to be much in the way of a crew after nine months of teaching English. But fortunately I have an understanding captain who is forgiving of my shortcomings.
Meanwhile I have been watching the Cornell redtail hawk nest and keeping an eye on the NYU hawk nest remotely. The fledgelings faced storms, captures, and releases. I don't wish to minimize the severity of our near gale experience. I can see it in my mind's eye. It is green sky and green sea and green island appearing and disappearing and reappearing. The wind is pushing the rain and the waves horizontally. An hour later when we were motoring toward Grassy Key, it was hard to believe it was the same place.
To write about an extraordinary day is so much easier. On Wednesday, we had read the oracles and understood the risks. "Scattered thunderstorms." We've been there. It's not so bad. But when we got out there, the current would not let us go, we could not tack, and so we made choices. We went behind Atsena Otie toward Snake Key and found ourselves under a black anvil cloud. It delayed and delayed and delayed and then it was right there. We waited ten minutes too long to take down the sails. Then we waited twenty minutes too long to abort our run to safe harbor at Snake. Then we were fighting the wind rain was driving horizontally from right to left the boat was heeling over then turning into the wind then heeling I was tying the mainsail I was holding the jib I was waiting for the captain to tell me to drop anchor and bring the bow into the wind. Mostly I later realize I was grinding my right lower ribcage into the top of the cabin and holding on for dear life. When the worst was past I said to the captain, should we drop anchor? He agreed, and even though the anchor did not hold fast in the wind, and we saw that our position shifted, I knew we were safer and going to make it when we pointed into the wind.
The captain kept a calm head throughout the storm. He was determined to make it back to shore under our own power. The jib halyard had got loose during the storm and when he started up the motor he found it wrapped around the prop. He realized the jib halyard had come loose and he was not going to budge without reattaching it to the mast. That meant the mast had to come down.
We demasted. The captain relined the jib halyard. We raised the mast. My part was very small. I don't have the strength to be much in the way of a crew after nine months of teaching English. But fortunately I have an understanding captain who is forgiving of my shortcomings.
Meanwhile I have been watching the Cornell redtail hawk nest and keeping an eye on the NYU hawk nest remotely. The fledgelings faced storms, captures, and releases. I don't wish to minimize the severity of our near gale experience. I can see it in my mind's eye. It is green sky and green sea and green island appearing and disappearing and reappearing. The wind is pushing the rain and the waves horizontally. An hour later when we were motoring toward Grassy Key, it was hard to believe it was the same place.
Friday, June 13, 2014
The fishing report, part 1
Monday and Tuesday were the best fishing days of the week, by the almanac and by the actual fishing too. Each day we motored out to our favorite spots, fished around the turns of the high tide, and then sailed back to the dock. Bob caught two legal trout Monday and I caught three catfish. Tuesday I caught a small red drum and two legal red drum. Bob was broken off by a black drum just as it got up to the boat.
Because of the full moon coming up on Friday, the neap tides were super low. We planned around the low tide, launching after the tide had come in for an hour or two, and returning an hour or two before low tide, so our time on the water was less than usual. It was a challenge returning to the dock for everyone. We were grateful for the Potter 15's shallow draft and even paddled under the bridge to the inshore ramp on Monday. The low tide was in the morning, too early for us to get out before it, so we were on the water during the hottest part of the day. Still, it was in between spring mild and summer heat, and clouds came by the help now and then.
The weather was beautiful and the wind was fine for sailing. Wednesday was another story.
Because of the full moon coming up on Friday, the neap tides were super low. We planned around the low tide, launching after the tide had come in for an hour or two, and returning an hour or two before low tide, so our time on the water was less than usual. It was a challenge returning to the dock for everyone. We were grateful for the Potter 15's shallow draft and even paddled under the bridge to the inshore ramp on Monday. The low tide was in the morning, too early for us to get out before it, so we were on the water during the hottest part of the day. Still, it was in between spring mild and summer heat, and clouds came by the help now and then.
The weather was beautiful and the wind was fine for sailing. Wednesday was another story.
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