GOOD SURPRISES

Well, isn't this the life! Life on the <DELTA QUEEN> a riverboat in Chattanooga, ironically from Sacramento!A wrap-around deck with sunning chairs, a restaurant, and views of the bridges. Jimmy Carter even stayed here shortly after it became a hotel. The cabin wasn't a tight a space as they suggested -- at least not horizontally. But I bashed my head ducking through the doorway a few times -- they ought to warn of a cabin ceiling height deficiency! Not a worry yet for Lana.

One of the sweetest things Lana said last trip was that I make the <BEST COOKIES IN THE WORLD>. So, I was obliges to up the ante and try a new recipe. Double-chocolate, double spice. (That's cocoa powder and chips, with twice the cinnamon.) It was a hit!

Funny weather shift from 76-degrees and balmy in Florida at 4:30 am to 48-degrees and windy the evening I arrived. Brr! Two days like that and then it warmed up the last day. But on Friday night we went to another surprise -- the amusement park ha a late night Halloween event, with the rides open, so we had to go. A Fright house was a bit much, but the rest was fun, if cold. She's a demon in the bumper cars -- side photo -- which we rode seven or eight times. The Frerris wheel was cool at night, and for this particular night, they adorned it with <crashed> carriages and straw-stuffed bodies at the base!

To much to fit in here -- suffice it to say <AWESOME TRIP>!!

ST. AUGUSTINE

Florida Heritage Writing Conference

Last Friday I went down to the "Oldest City" for an all-day conference with all the big shots around Florida. The "Ritz" of the town, the Casa Madrona, hosted about 125 writers. It was a dark and stormy morning... (pictures)

The day was divided into five time slots: four seminar slots plus lunch. During seminar times, we chose a group from one of two subjects. These subjects ranged from character building to research to submitting screenplays. I can't say the catered food was worthwhile, and the conference rooms were less than impressive, but the event was good.

North Florida is suddenly in the rainy season, and clouds are regular observers in our skies. The sweltering summer still lingers, amplified briefly by humidity after the rain.  Mosquitoes regularly feast on me every time I take out the dogs. They don't get it, because of their fur, when I jump around and swat my skin.

It's dark now when I like to ride, so that's not so good. I notice Chattanooga is already in the fifties at night, while we barely get down to eighty. Whew! But when we got here in February, we had five straight days of frost, so I know it CAN get colder... and it'll probably be too cold soon enough.

Not Yet Half a Century

Yeah, I'm getting old. I was born before JFK was taken out. By most definitions, that's getting old.

But other measures are more kind. With the fallout from hurricanes hitting hard up north of here -- not in Florida! -- I looked into some of the past flooding in both Chattanooga and Binghamton, other places I have lived. And the flooding was bad, really bad. In both towns, the water levels took out the downtowns several times. And now floodwalls stand around each city. Recent floodwaters came up to and spilled over each wall, but they did prevent widespread disaster. But because people continue to build along side flood walls and in flood plains, I suppose the timeline of history is blurred, and the age of the lessons returns, making the older floods closer to memory. So maybe I'm not so old after all.

On a more immediate scale of time, the days have grown shorter. I used to take Grover to the beach at 7:45 for his evening walk, and we'd return home sandy, wet, bitten and hungry about 8:45. Now it's dark at 7:45. Still hot, though. So much for the later evening bike rides as well. No more 8pm departures to avoid the dining crowds on the road. The tradeoff seems to be we have different clouds this season. More of the familiar  orange-brown slurry of textures, similar to what we'd see over the Sutter Buttes back in California.

The sea turtles have all hatched by now, a fraction of them making it beyond the first two weeks, and only a fraction of those destined to make it to adolescence. The armadillos are back scurrying, like the squirrels, for the last of summer morsels to gather. And a new crop of frogs -- or a very small species -- is now underfoot and on the door. Cicadas scream in unison, drowning out even the light car traffic. And I finally baked some cookies for Lana, some banana muffins for me and Amy, and homemade beer for myself. (photos.)

SCIENCE, ANYONE?

Let's see what's happening around the nation. 

 American looks more and more like a Christian nation. Huge fires. Earthquakes. Tornadoes.  Hurricanes. Flooding. All at the same time.


Difficult to know what will go on in Congress this session. Probably nothing, since the bills forwarded to committees are all written by lobbyists anyway, lobbyists who have late breakfasts and hire the unemployed to hold a seat in the hallway for them. Funny how the nascent government officials in newly "liberated" countries are accused of bribery, and fined, while the halls of congress are full of unprosecuted bribers.


And talking of conspiracies, I'll be placing a short list of movies, most but not all, documentaries that tackle bits and pieces of our broken system. Hopefully these will be of interest to you visiting this blog. Maybe you've even seen some already. If you like them, pass along the title to someone else who might watch.


This week: 
INSIDE JOB; SO GOES THE NATION; BUSH FAMILY FORTUNES

Goodbye Irene

Update:
Looks like Jacksonville wisely placed itself two hundred miles to the west of Irene's path. What foresight! I'll keep a good thought for those in its path, though, like those in Stone Harbor, NJ; Long Island, NY; Boston, MA...


I was all dressed for a bike ride yesterday afternoon, because the skies were clear, the wind calm, and had high hopes for a spin. But when I turned off the lights to go, rain pummeled the tin roof out back, and I reluctantly had to take off my tights and helmet... and the wind kicked up a mini-storm. Figures! But lucky I wasn't caught out in that localized squall.

I see a string of storms in the South Atlantic, and this is peak hurricane season, so I'm sure we'll face other scares. I've printed lists and maps of shelters, including those that accept animals, and ones that are close to Amy's work as well as to our place. And I got to go food shopping for canned goods, crackers, gallons of water, paper plates, etc. and stuff a cooler full of those meals so we can take it and go.

Grove and I ventured to the beach last night. It was crowded, with some show-off surfers, who mostly walked along the shore instead of getting in the water. Which was pretty wimpy, since the waves weren't more than six to eight feet at their highest.

The beach had a trough of flood water just before the dunes, quickly becoming a temporary swamp. The mucky puddle was about fifty feet long by twenty wide, and about two feet deep. And located right where the wooden bridge enters the beach, so lots of people just stopped there. The stinky foam everywhere was the surprise, though. Really stinky! Even after several attempts, I couldn't wash it off my hands. I can still smell it this morning... Lucky for you all, smell-blogging isn't a common technology yet!

Goodbye Irene

Update:
Looks like Jacksonville wisely placed itself two hundred miles to the west of Irene's path. What foresight! I'll keep a good thought for those in its path, though, like those in Stone Harbor, NJ; Long Island, NY; Boston, MA...

I was all dressed for a bike ride yesterday afternoon, because the skies were clear, the wind calm, and had high hopes for a spin. But when I turned off the lights to go, rain pummeled the tin roof out back, and I reluctantly had to take off my tights and helmet... and the wind kicked up a mini-storm. Figures! But lucky I wasn't caught out in that localized squall.

I see a string of storms in the South Atlantic, and this is peak hurricane season, so I'm sure we'll face other scares. I've printed lists and maps of shelters, including those that accept animals, and ones that are close to Amy's work as well as to our place. And I got to go food shopping for canned goods, crackers, gallons of water, paper plates, etc. and stuff a cooler full of those meals so we can take it and go.

Grove and I ventured to the beach last night. It was crowded, with some show-off surfers, who mostly walked along the shore instead of getting in the water. Which was pretty wimpy, since the waves weren't more than six to eight feet at their highest.

The beach had a trough of flood water just before the dunes, quickly becoming a temporary swamp. The mucky puddle was about fifty feet long by twenty wide, and about two feet deep. And located right where the wooden bridge enters the beach, so lots of people just stopped there. The stinky foam everywhere was the surprise, though. Really stinky! Even after several attempts, I couldn't wash it off my hands. I can still smell it this morning... Lucky for you all, smell-blogging isn't a common technology yet!

HELLO IRENE

Well, we made it all the way to late August without a hurricane our first year.
Now it's late August, and Irene is going to sweep by. She'll probably miss us, but we'll feel her draft.

In fact, she brushed by me this morning. Grover and I went to the beach at 7am to see if I could get any good pics. I'm not sure I can say whether I did. But in less than thirty seconds the beach morphed from a clear sky with offshore clouds (pic) to a full-on drenching rain. Thirty seconds. Fifteen seconds of sudden wind, and fifteen seconds of light drizzle. And you just KNOW I had both my camera and my new phone out there!
Of course Grover freaked out. Are you kidding? He pulled and lurched and twisted around my ankles as I tried to shield my camera and phone under a soggy t-shirt. And the runners and walkers on the beach made a bee-line for the ramp to exit, which of course made him more anxious than he'd already been.
The storm looks large, even from space (pic.) I'm sure that wherever she lands she'll make an impression. I'll keep my fingers crossed that nobody gets hurt or killed.
Something going on, though. We all hear the conservative loudspeakers pooh-poohing global warming. Then we hear how "vicious" Mother Nature is: our historic Florida wildfires, Virginia's bizarre earthquake. Even Lincoln had an event: a propane tanker on fire and a large evacuation. What's next? Can it be mitigated? Probably not, people.
BTW: For all you sympathetic to asking questions, I suggest you watch the documentary on the death of Pat Tillman, The Pat Tillman Story. I'm not a big football fan, nor a war-hero fan, and I still like the personality I saw. Unsettling as the story is, even more unsettling for me was its lack of closure... I'd say it makes you think, but I'm already thinking.

Alas, a Lass

Alas, Lana's summertime here is over, but not before we got to do lots of fun things during her weeks here. Of course, not as much as I intended. No manatees, for instance. And the museum's Art Camp I wanted to get her into was full. But a good time anyway.

During breaks from the Tour d'France on television, we rode bikes along the quiet street out front. She transformed from a shaky rider into a confident one who can speed down the block one-handed and even make a skid. A bit of a daredevil, (ode to biker knees, photo!)

We saw Fourth of July fireworks on the beach, and were bombarded between the festivities of an event just to the south and one just to the north. We sat with a family on the block who has a girl, Abby, Lana's age. Of course they rode bikes together after that.

The art room here became a second home to Lana, and we started many projects and finished some. We made a diorama, practiced calligraphy and painted. We planned out a book and painted tee-shirts. On and on....

And an end-of-month visit by Grandmom from California, (photo.)

And of course the BIG SURPRISE was Disneyworld. Three days and nights, chock-full-o-fun and wonder. Really nicer than I thought it would be: more exciting, more interesting and more enjoyable, despite the heat. We liked the show with the ants and spiders that dropped from the ceiliings, and at the end the seats undulated and "maggots" crawled out from under! The water rides were a hit too, but not the rollercoasters for the girls and not the dark ones for any of us.

The ride back to Chattanooga started so early Lana slept for the first hour and a half. She's a terrific traveler, and we made good time so we could swim in the hotel's pool that first day, (goggles.) She had a week at home first, then fourth grade began...

BURFING OR SIKING

Yep, I startedthe "burfing" movement her on the First Coast. That's "biking" and "surfing" together. I ride my beach bike into the waves, turn and follow the crest of the foam along the sand. Now everyone's doing it. Well, at least I got Lana to do it!

She's gotten really good on her bike. A few spills here on the block, but she keeps getting up and riding, like in the Tour. And there's a girl her age here on the street; they ride together. She earned herself a nice pair of bike gloves.

The beach is fun and close by. But the heat index has kept us away many times when we might have gone. Yesterday, though, we were at the beach TWO times in ONE day. Burfing, walking, wading, splashing, walkie-talkieing, collecting shells, playing tag, which we call, for obvious reasons, "you're wet."

Amy's dad is here now, and we go to St. Augustine today. Monday, Brian's mother arrives for a few days, and we go birdwatching and to museums. THEN, the BIG SURPRISE....

SMOKE ON THE BAYOU

June 16, 2011
--Unofficial Press Release--

Florida Declares Unity with Arizona

With Arizona wilting under its largest wildfire and Florida choking on Everglades botanical smoke, the two states have declared a union. They both are in trouble, with severe health warnings in each state and no end in sight for relief of present conditions.

Ironically, Governor Scott of Florida declared emergency conditions, which activates the Florida Guard ad National Guard, as well as FEMA and Army Corps. In tapping into so many sources of federal aid, the Governor has opened himself up to charges of hypocrisy. The Governor is known for his voracious anti-government statements while at the same time enriching himself by forming companies to service government requirements.

Residents of Florida must question whether the Governor will be able to continue to criticize the same "thieves" who are currently bailing out his underfunded fire fighting department. Or why he doesn't put his money where his mouth is and privately bankroll firefighters from his own funds. The latter scenario would conform to his purported views of financial responsibility, since no tax money would be involved.

A spokesperson for the Governor remarked, "Fortunately we have the upcoming sentencing of a twelve-year-old for murder one. That ought to take up some headline space and get peoples minds back to the larger threats at hand."

Meanwhile the swamps burn.

Motha' Nature

Woa! This is some force. Luckily, this storm moved past us, and didn't get it together to become a manifested threat. But it sure looked like an impressive bit of rage. And we finally got some rain. They call it a drought here when a few dry weeks go by... despite the swamps. I don't think California's kiln-like conditions are on the imagination radar screen. It'd be like imagining Mars.

The clouds lifted high over the pines later in the afternoon, (sidebar.) To listen to the news, we might have gotten an inch of rain that afternoon. But I find that difficult to believe. An inch??

Besides deflating the barometer and watering my sunflowers, the rain brought some potentially good side effects. There is a huge fire here. In the swamp.That's right, everyone, THE SWAMP IS BURNING. The Okeefenokee Swamp, (Scully and Mulder muse over its name on an early X-Files episode, for you fans.) The park -- and it is a protected area, except private timber is harvested -- is pretty large, and almost one third of it (115,000 acres and still going) is fried. The newspaper can't decide which is bigger news: a huge wildlife fire or Tiger Woods' Achilles tendon woes, so they kind of split the front page (sidebar.)

So back in our neck of the woods, routine is setting in. Walking the dogs, walking the dogs at the beach, physical therapy for Brian, remember, older than Amy!) And sitting in the back yard with the dogs, who don't yet like the new environment , while I do the Soduko puzzle or the crossword. Resting before... walking the dogs later!

Special event tomorrow (Monday): the "Endeavor" launch is supposed to be visible from the beach right here... soI may try and catch that, since there won't be many others to see... Sort of a piece of history, I suppose, in what has changed into a piece more of bureaucratic definition, since it's controlled and choked off by the misanthropic budget process in Congress.

Shrimp, Art and Pirates

Yep. All in one day. The 46th Annual Fernandina Shrimp Festival!

I took the scenic route -- no surprise for all who know me!-- and got to see the world-renowned locale of Mayport, home to Mayport shrimp boats that bring us Mayport shrimp here in Jacksonville. Once there, the road ended and I hopped a car-ferry across the river to continue. Waiting for the ferry I talked to a ex-trucker on a motorcycle. We shared disdain for bad drivers and an appreciation of the Jersey shore, where he used to deliver.

Past Amelia Island, I reach the area with a schizto-history: no fewer than eight sovereignties claimed Fernandina, hence it's slogan "Isle of the Eight Flags." I parked at a high school and took the yellow school bus shuttle. It delivered me to a cute downtown of close-together (unusual around here) brick buildings, dating from before the turn of the century. A sign in a church courtyard declares: "Thou shalt not skate," presumably meaning at church, though there may be a larger message intended.

The town could be a Sausalito-of-the-South. I saw bakeries, restaurants, clothing, a grocery/convenience store, art galleries, a coffee roastery, bars and churches. And at least on this day, it was pedestrian friendly. A huge turnout snaked down nine blocks of main street and onto the spurs of side streets. Most art was predictable, but some above the level I expected. I even bought a framed piece that reminded me of Heather Wilcoxon's style. Booths also showed stained glass, ceramics, photography, fish and all-things-seashore-sculpture, and antiques.

Before my big purchase, to settle my nerves, I had to stop for lunch, and I selected the one item I had never before tried: a shrimp pie. I recalled that I have a two-hundred year old recipe for this, but I've never attempted it. I had to have one! (It was worth taking the risk and ingesting the cream sauce! Good work, Vietnam vets who made them.)

The way back toward Mayport, and then home, was still great weather, and very scenic, and I enjoyed noticing the ferry's flag masts - one flew the American flag, the other, by statute but perhaps not in spirit a hair lower, flew the standard of pirates!

Road Trip !!

Road trip -- a long road trip -- to see Lana. It's just shy of 500 miles. Eight hours exactly. Past bogs, swamps amd muddy messes of trees and shrubs. Dead trees, spring clover, invisible frogs. So much to pass by at 70 miles an hour. Very frustrating to know that stopping adds to the eight hours,so no stopping. And I missed THE moment, at sunrise. It was a National Geographic shot: a corner of the Okeefenokee swamp, with sun backlighting the fog just barely lifting off the water surface. I caught a glimpse of it, and then before I could stop it was all behind me.

Lana had trapeze class the first night. Seeing her run out of school to meet me was all I could ask -- the trapeze was really cool, and she was great -- but her smile and style beats all.

But then, yes, the trapeze studio. Just mats underneath, no spotters: perhaps because the bars were only about five feet off the ground. After a few routines on the hanging bar, suspended from about thirty feet above, Lana casually waltzed over to some fabric dangling from the same height. And as if it were nothing, she twisted the fabric ("silks") around her foot and began to climb, up to about twelve or fifteen feet. There she twisted the silks around her shoulders, back and hips, and flipped upside-down. And like a frog she descended -- in complete control. Really cool!

I told her her cousins would be proud -- and her grandmom in California. And that brought a smile.

The weekend event was her school's garden club demonstrating seed planting. Fun it was, though mostly it was an excuse for the kids to run around the Discovery Museum all day! The rooftop garden had some action, and I was glad to see a worm farmer there. He had a very hands-on display, very appropriate and very popular. Lana and her friend Rachael got to pick up clusters of worms and dare the boys -- who were chicken-- to hold them.

We of course rode the carousel and danced and walked on the pedestrian bridge over the river, and went to all kinds of eateries: falafel, natural food store, pizza, donut shop, a brewery and a bakery.

I had to leave her at school Monday morning, but that was no sweat getting her there on time. She can get up and out the door in an impressive six or seven minutes. Her school is in a half-renewed section of town, but close to the historic train station, which is now a hotel complex with the one remaining train in town: a tourist trolley that we used to take once a week when Lana was a baby. Some parts are renovated -- in fact, the brewery and bakery are there. But turn around and you get scenes like above. A stark contrast to the flourishing natural areas I passed on the way up. (Ignoring the trash.)

Never enough time, we still had a full three-plus days. Can't wait for summertime with oodles of time together.

The "Torn-IDES" of March

Tornadoes. Ides of March. Get it? Maybe not so catchy, but I couldn't NOT try it. Yes, our first TORNADO warning. And it's March. We've been here less than two months. As Amy would say, "Really??" And the weather says, "Yep." --NOTE-- To those who'd like to click on the photos, or the word photo in the text, there is no further link. The pics are mine, (as you all probably know) and if you like one I'll gladly send you a bigger file version to check out, or even to keep as a desktop on your laptops. But there are no hidden depths in this blog. -- -- Several claps of thunder and a lot lighter rain than I would have guessed. And the rain comes and goes - unlike California, where it can rain for two or three days straight. Sure, rain pooled up on the streets, and everything drips for a while afterward, so you're not "safe" to go out and walk the dogs without getting wet, no matter how you time it. But not to be confused with the term, "torrential." Yesterday evening - during the warning -I walked Grover on the beach. He proudly explored a sand castle someone left, and made a move to claim it as his own.

Walking along the beach - yes, get used to that phrase!! - a number of creatures at high were driven to shore, probably helped by the currents of the storm. Several tiny and small crabs, several medium and one very large jellyfish. The two large crabs. Either different species, or male/female specimens. Amy thinks the one with a single large blue claw is a stone crab. I don't know "diddly" about crab species, but it was very photogenic. The beach at high tide is much more narrow than at low tide - by a factor of three or four times the space. But with practically nobody there, it was plenty large for us, (and three surfers in wetsuits, two dogwalkers and a couple walking.) Looking along the grey water under the grey sky, towards the grey horizon created an interesting composition. Blurred and distinctionless shapes, a bit like some of my blurry low-light photographs. Very unlike the long sweeping landscapes of northern California and the West in general. The not-so-good aspect of walking along the beach is that every day turns into a trash pickup exercise. Not that I'd rather let it sit out there. But it's a shame that that much is constantly out there, waiting to jump into the intestines of birds and other aquatic life that knows no better than to ingest brightly colored items. Sigh. More tornado alert - but it's just a"watch" until mid-day today. Cheers.

Beach Cruiser no. 1

One of has a beach cruiser. I ordered one for Amy weeks ago, but hers is still not here. (See the cool website at http://www.affordabike.com/.) While waiting, I followed an ad in the local paper and got a Huffy. Yup. Single speed, two-tone brown, with basket up front and a rack in back. Impatience got the better of me. Plus, it was less than seventy dollars.
So what else could I do but take it to the beach and get sand all in the chain? I rode up to the county line and the surf area -- Jacksonville Beach/AtlanticBeach Pier. Hundreds of people on the beach that day.
This is a slow weekend. No bike ride for me; pinched a back muscle. We keep looking out the door for the UPS truck, but I suppose it'll get here while Amy's at work... another day, a weekday. An non-climactic day.
We had visitors last weekend - the Hooleys and their mobile home. They were able to park it a while, and we went out to brunch. A good Mexican place w ith cool t-shirts and even better food. Afterward we walked on the beach. Yep, we live in a beach town, so that's what we do a lot of. And a vast shell collection is growing. With Chris and Helen we lolled atthe eater's edge and talked some philosophy, some food and some "other." Chris found a perfectly flattened scallop shell -- a variety I haven't yet seen. Helen's thinking of certification in an herbal/nutrition program. Though, like all Hooleys, she may know more than those who offer to be "authorities" at school.
A few days later I got do my wrastling with the pick-up service. Not only do they pick up trash two times a week, they also come by a THIRD day to pick up anything oversized. Cardboard, brooms, electrical cord, computers, even appliances. Or that's the theory. For some reason, they don't like to pick up our neatly stacked moving boxes, left out the night before, in plenty of time, and in the correct location relative to the street. So I call in each week and inform the city our stuff is still on the lawn. Every Wednesday, like clockwork.
Until next Wednesday...(!)

Fixing Up and Settling In

Kind of. We're trying. Amy's still fighting off a persistent cold/flu/virus thing. The dogs are getting used to the lack of an open vista to patrol (except when Grover is at the beach, which appears to be a necessity for him to keep his mind.) And I'm going to give up the ice cream and pick up the riding. Soon. After the house gets its second coat of paint. Yep, I'm painting the whole inside, and the color is light, so it'll need a second coat. PHOTO So things are a bit, ahem, in progress.

The beach walks with Grover aren't so bad, really. But it's generally cold and windy -- surprise! Think Stinson Beach, people, (people who know.) But the after-five crowd at the beach is dog people, and I've met a few. Grover's sniffed them. The shells are still amazing - quantity and quality. I hope the diversity is not seasonal. I'd like Lana to go shell-hunting in the summer. We'll get a collection going.

Grendel, the small dog, is an accomplished coach potato all of a sudden. His recent leg surgery, combined with his age and the stress or relocation have probably made him into the expert he is. And what a bed-head he is when he wakes up! PHOTO If only the cable TV remote were smaller...

Going to the grocery is also a little different for us. As acknowledged Trader Joe's addicts, we are agape at some of the food items not here. On the bright side, though, that opens the door for items that are new for us... and let us align more with the local color. Last night, for example, I cooked eggs and grits with mustard greens. For dinner. And it was good. Now we have 'his' and 'hers' bags of grits! PHOTO

The bicycling is interesting. As with anywhere, the new routes and clubs can demand some adjustments. Here, the rides seem to be Saturday and Tuesday mornings, the latter with a smaller, slower group (18-21 mph) which is very convenient since it gathers two block from the house! This week we rode the coast highway all the way into St. Augustine. When we turned around to comeback, though, the wind was right in our faces for the entire 27-28 miles. It was blowing at about 16-17 mph, with stronger gusts. What a relentless push that was...

Along the highway, that coastal huighway, the side offers a nice bike route. But occasionally the side is obstructed by roadwork, or contractors' trucks. Getting around those obstacles is tricky, and perilous. This Tuesday I had some bad rapport with cars. I was honked at, flipped off, and yelled at by a landscaper towing mowers and such. He stopped his rig in the middle of the highway, leaned out the window and yelled, "You're a bleeping idiot!" Oh, the comeback lines that almost came out of my mouth. But this is gun country, so I just shut up and smiled and kept riding. Away from the idiot driving the truck.

That's why Amy splurged on our license plate. PHOTO

Next: A weekend visit from the Hooleys!

Summer Lurks Nearby

Weather here is a pendulum between crispy and foggy mornings, and the the dull humidity that hints at summer. Rode with a small group toward St. Augustine the other morning. Only five people, but dedicated, and the allure of several Irish accents (and a cool Irish Post jersey) kept it lively. We turned around at a parking lot for a nature preserve, with the weird acronym GTM NERR for an even weirder name. But beautiful as the fog lifted, photo.

This in contrast to a week ago, when the back yard was socked in with fog, and the tall pines were eerie, photo.

The dogs are feeling cramped, and a bit restless without the wide, calming ranch vista to survey. The beach is off limits to them 9-5, and understandably so, but that leaves cool mornings and dark evenings. Soon, though, they'l get to check it out. With tons of shells and the odd jellyfish, photo. Better than pulling the tick out of Grover's head like I did this morning.

Painting the house now, photo. The new paint is lighter, and the walls are flat, so it's going to take a second coat. Fortunately, the paint is low-VOC, so the fues can't make me or the animals dizzy.

Amy's really caught a virus, and coughing like a demon, but is slugging in to work. In the beginning there is no allowance for sick days. Ironic, because that's when lots of people are under stress and get ill.

Trying some new restaurants. All you who come visit will get the benefit of that!

I have to sneak off to Starbuck's to post the blog because Comcast sucks and their box can't shake hands with my computer, although Amy's hooked up. She's got a new email with Comcast, but my new one will have to be in the future.

Til the future, then...

The A1A

California has coast highway 1. Nice. Beautiful. Post-cardy. You can drive off a cliff if you're not careful. Makes it exciting! (see picture)

First Coast (named from earliest Euro-settlers) has the A1A. Flat, sandy, passing treasured seaside homes, a little swampy-smelling. Also, did I say "Flat"? A bit boring...

But it's what they got. Can't change it; gotta love it and ride it. So I went to a group ride this morning at the ungodly hour of 7:30 am. A bit difficult to be ready to roll, flexible, energized, on-site then. But I did it. And the dogs went into the morning with excess "good morning" energy, and a bit confused.

Unfortunately, I was all by myself. (picture) At the appointed hour, I was the sole annointed rider. I guess you could say I "led the group"! At about the half-way point, I pulled off the road to peek at the ocean. (picture) This is a location for RIGHT WHALE calving. Only about 300 left in the world, and they nurture their young right here. Didn't see any, though.

On other fronts, Amy and I tried - quite successfull - a local seafood restaurant. Really good, really casual, really local color. If we're not careful, we may wind up with a booth named after us! Good oysters, too. The outside tables were surprisingly empty in the 50 degree weather.... It is a bit like Stinson Beach here, I told Amy. Hopefully a bit warmer in summer! And we'll see about fog -- it's a big "I don't know" as of now. I saw a smattering of it this morning on the coast, but not really FOG fog; just wispy overcast down low enough to reach.

We've still got a defunct dryer to replace; a master bedroom closet down to the slab, with carpet tacks; scuffed paint all around; wobbly ceiling fans; and missing item that may or may not be inside still unsolved cardboard boxes. And a dog schedule to work out. Mostly for Grover, (pic in previous); Grendel now sleeps like a cat all day. The reason I know he's NOT a cat because when he wakes up, he has bed-head (hair all smushed close to his head on one side.) It's both comic and tragic. But it's his new look!

Sunny weekend ahead - maybe better photos to come....

One of Two Places

I'm sitting in a chain coffeeshop (guess) and posting this with some photos to share. So much to relay, I may have to sketch it out and fill in some additional stories next time.

It's winter here, getting to freezing at night. But I should be grateful we're not getting slammed with the HUGE winter storm covering most of the country. So, even though I have a touch of a winter cold (thanks, Ms. Sneezer at the airport...) I am grateful. In fact, this place -- northern Florida -- is one of two places not under a winter storm siege; the other palce is northern California, from where I came. Interesting symmetry.

Sun and blue sky greeted me, but frowned into a rainfall overnight. We are at sea level, so there is a bit of flooding, but at least our yard is above the water level.

I finished Earth Island Journal, then spent the next several days catching up with friends on my move, and took a redeye out here. Thanks to the Nalles, Robert and Tristan, Matthew, Grant, Tyson, and of course Ian and Susan, who've put up with so much over the years! Mt. Tam was particularly difficult to leave in the good light and good weather of the past few days.

And while I was wrestling the magazine issue, Amy had landed and was directing the movers and pets around, doing all the usual to set up a household. I got off easy on that count. At least I thought so until I opened the door to "Studio B" (my room - Amy's is "Studio A"). What a stack of boxes! I have to say, ahem, some were not even mine. So I tackled the garage, cleaning it and organizing the overflow of boxes out there. Then I cleared out the gutters, which were clogged with very long pine needles, perhaps ten inches long.

So we're in a little beach town, or maybe not so little. Actually it's a north-south string of beach towns, and together they make up a medium-sized town. Usual chain stores with a few smallgems tucked away: the 30-year old family hot dog cart; a drive-through bagel shop; and a greasy spoon breakfast joint. Walking possible to all.

The next week should shape up well - Amy's birthday, when she gets her "mystery" present from me, and we get beach cruiser bikes. And the inept dryer in the rental house might have to go in the garage as we could replace it with one on sale at Sears, (saving time and energy.)

The bonus was walking Grover to the beach last night - cold and sick though I was, and tired as he was, unused to walking any distance. He blended right in, at least in terms of color.
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Moving out of California

Well, the ether-net ate my prose. Not a good start for this blog. I had concocted some witty lines about stuffing our lives into boxes until late last night, then having the movers pack things so it LOOKS packed.

And how Grover was in the garage, peeing in his non-existent pants, wary of new voices, afraid of intruders he couldn't see. Yesterday we picked up our bikes, boxed by the shop, and I hope the boxes are enough protection... the movers will sign off on them in the morning.

I made the rounds today - to my friends at the dump, at Goodwill, at the post office counter at Raley's. I heaved rickety, moldy-hay pallets, broken ceramic pots and random wire. I returned used batteries to collection bins. I begged the library's forgiveness for six movies, mostlyBBC mysteries, that accidentally got packed and will be several weeks overdue. I returned a 350-lb grain barrel to the feed store for a deposit. And then I got Thai food to bring home.

The fog (above) was sudden and tremendous this evening. The day began with thick fog, but then the fog teased us and lurked at the far end of the pasture, surging and weaving, approaching and retreating. As soon as the dark came, it rushed in close and obscured most livestock on the side of the road. Like 19th century London, I imagine.

Tomorrow more of the same for us. Florida hasn't really set in yet, and it probably won't until I have sand in my shoes. Amy arrives the third; I arrive the eighth.

Cheers...

B+A