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!