Fall?

This month is the 6th anniversary of our being in Florida, and I have learned to discern differences in the seasons. We definitely have a winter and a summer but the meandering into spring and fall is subtle and easily missed.

Today while I was watering the lemon tree, I felt the vaguest hint of fall in the air, or smelled it, I don’t know, both maybe.

It reminded me of being a kid at the pool; maybe it was the humidity or that sometimes we can smell the ocean here.

And I remembered the slight melancholy feeling of summer ending, going back to school, and no more pool.

I remembered the promise of the holidays, which as a kid seemed so much further off this time of year than they do now.

There was just an indefinable something this morning, maybe the way the sun hangs in the sky in August, maybe just that it’s August.

Crushin on My Captain

Saturday afternoon it was Captain Kirk and Saturday evening it was Captain & Tennille. I got Wayne to go out for a little Karaoke; I wonder if he regrets telling me he would give me everything I want? Probably not, that’s why I love him like a muskrat. Love will keep us together but maybe not Karaoke, however, he is a good sport and even sang two songs; he’s really pretty good, I wonder if he secretly likes to sing?

My first at bat, I hit a home run and got a fan. He was pretty old and said he had left his hearing aid at home, but I trust in his assessment of my Karaoke prowess, even if the old fart did grab my ass. Then Wayne sang and he was a hit too; so I grabbed his ass. By the time my next turned rolled around I had about 28 beers, the sound system misfired, so I had to stand there on stage for 2 agonizing minutes while it got fixed and restart my song twice. I bombed! Gawd, how quickly a drunken crowd forgets your past glory.

Wayne sang again, did great, got some applause but the crown was thinning and yawning. Beer, singing and the Florida heat can wear you out. I was determined to go out on a high note though. I was once told I have a soprano inside me I just have to let her out. NEVER believe anyone who is trying to sell you something; especially singing lessons. NEVER try to hit a note out of your range just because you’re drunk enough to think you can. And NEVER sing Broadway in a country bar. Uh Baby, can we go home now?

So the evening ended with me begging Wayne to do that to me one more time. And, once again living up to his promise to give me everything I wanted, he did! My Captain sang me one more love song on the home karaoke machine he bought me before tucking me in with 2 aspirin and a bottle of water.

Up Yours Jiminy

We planted the guava bush yesterday and it looks pretty good.

The grass needs a little love, but hey it is not easy to work, blog, party like you're 20, plant stuff and keep the lawn all suburb glorious.

This morning I was watering the new bush, planting some old bushes that outgrew their pots and treating the lemon tree for bugs.

Well I guess this little fellow, (and I say little with a sarcastic tone that alludes to my dislike for bugs that are bigger than a dollar and fly), didn't like the liquid soap bath and dislodged himself from my tree. PS the lemon tree has a little (literally little) lemon and 2 buds, but I'm not braggin.

And so I was brutally attacked and beaten by Jiminy Cricket as I innocently tried to enter my home. Worse yet, he levied this attack with nary a blow. His strategy, beautifully carried out, was to crawl on my screen door and lie in wait. Upon my approach to said door I spotted the cunning locast. I began a scream that would have summoned the fire department but stopped before completing even half a note. It seems that screams can alarm even the hardiest of grasshoppers, and it looked like he might take flight.

I think that with proper sedation and rehabilitation, I could recover to some semblance of a normal life if a bug of that proportion flew in my hair. But not in my mouth.

My poorly executed retreat was shortened by the hastily discarded hose, causing me to slip, tumble and roll down the hill. That damn Jiminy Cricket mo-fackle busted my ass down and didn't even lift any of it's legs.

What A Weekend

Friday Wayne called from work and asked if I wanted to go for dinner with friends. Somehow I managed to drag myself through a Friday in the cubicle because I knew that I had a date with my favorite husband. Since we live an hour away from everything that makes sense, it was a rare treat to go out with these friends; a great start to the weekend.


Saturday night Wayne grilled steak. It’s like a religious experience when he grills steak, beginning with the selection ritual at the meat counter. Less care has been taken by those selecting virgins for a volcanic sacrifice. Then there is the fire making ceremony. The briquettes are chosen and carefully assembled in the temple… I mean the chimney; where they will be ignited without the benefit of starter fluid less the integrity of the meat be compromised by the fumes. It takes nearly an hour for the grill to be properly prepared for the meat; Wayne then lays the carefully marinated sacrifice on the grill for about a second, rotates it, flips it, rotates it again, and then takes it off; less time than it took to open the package.


Now the meat must rest ten minutes. It wasn’t on the fire long enough to get tired but I am not going to argue with a man who is serving me a cabernet from our recent trip to Napa and a crab stuffed mushroom appetizer. We then watched the old Indiana Jones movies to be ready for the new one, (Shut up we are not geeks!) and retired, well past 10pm, for some very un-geek like activity.


Sunday well after 7 am we awake; oh the decadence. Wayne has been on a months long quest to perfect his late grandmother’s biscuit recipe. This beautiful morning he is reaching what must be perfection. I can only hope that the fateful morning he reaches his biscuit apex will not be the last. Bake on my love, I will do the dishes.

After breakfast we went to a favored nursery,Lukas and bought a guava bush. We are going to plant it next to the lemon tree to enhance the backyard landscape. We wanted an olive tree but were unable to find one that would fruit in our part of Florida. However, it was WAY too hot to plant the bush, so we planned on having lunch and planting later Sunday evening. Well, that didn’t work out, because we were too busy having fun.

We found a bar and grill on the water not far from our house, Gator's. We had bar food and cold beer, listened to Crazy Joe play Buffet songs amongst others, and hoped for a gator sighting. We didn’t get to see a gator but we saw plenty of tattoos, Harleys, and sunshine. The bartender was great and we were glad to find a fun place near by. A short trip home was followed by an afternoon nap, then more movies and more un-geek like activity. You go Wayne.

We kind of over indulged this weekend, so when the first thing Wayne said to me this morning was, “Are we still going to the Y?”, I looked at him like he had flipped a biscuit, but I didn’t have the nerve not to go. I am not sure if he motivates me or shames me but either way I did some time on an elliptical today so there you have it.

Next weekend maybe we will fininsh painting the house.....or maybe we'll go see the new Indiana Jones movie.

Coasting

My overwhelming fear is relieved by crushing disappointment. He really deserved it. He should have gotten it, and he should have gotten a lot less drama from me. He says not to lose faith, when the right thing comes along we both will know it. I knew it when he came along and we will know when our next move comes along.
So it is the right coast for now, and Wendy and Wayne forever.

Riding Roller Coasters in Sacramento

I’m sorry for the lack of a non-new review this week. I have been on 5 day long roller coaster ride in Sacramento, CA. The only movie I saw in the hotel was Evan Almighty and it’s just not worth the ink; even though we’re not using ink. So this Thursday instead of reviewing an old movie, I will review the last 5 days in Sacramento, the things that led up to us being here, and a ponderence of what might happen next.

Long story short; we might move to Sacramento. Back story; Wayne is up for a promotion that would take us here. He really wants and deserves the promotion. He has worked so hard, out shined some people who are supposed to be above him, won the praise of people way above everybody else, (Speaking in the chain of command sense) and has the support of his current boss and peers in his quest to move up. Wendy is a scared little brat who doesn’t like change and is afraid to move away from home, wahh-wahh.

Back story on Wendy’s back story; Wendy, aka me, lived on the same side of the same town till she was 37 years old. In a leap of faith unprecedented in my life, I left that town and moved 1000 miles away with Wayne after having only known him for 6 months, 3 of which he was on the road. Sometimes you just know when it’s right. I am never clear on anything; I will change my mind before the end of a sentence and have to start over. To date, Wayne is the only thing I have never changed my mind about. I knew it was him, and he knew it was me, so I packed up my station wagon, sold everything else and went with him. No regrets!

I have never loved the town we live in now, yet with the possible opportunity pending to move near the other coast, I am so saddened and scared and then excited and full of adventure, then scared, then excited. Roller coasters of the emotional variety are worse because they are not over in 4 minutes. Speaking of roller coasters, I am typing this on a plane during turbulence, just one more thing I am afraid of. F.M.R.

I really wouldn’t miss our little town, I don’t have lifelong friends here and the climate is not my favorite. I guess I could even learn to live without our house, but it would be hard. It’s my first house, we had it built together and I hate the thought of someone else having it. But it’s my trees that I weep for when I think of leaving. Yes, including my lemon tree. I have never planted trees before. In apartments you plant annuals.

Seriously we are past the age where we can plant young trees and wait. I mean we can still buy green bananas with relative certainty, but saplings, not so much. And my bushes that were less than a foot tall when we planted them are now huge. I love everything we have done to this house, and that we have done it together.

And then there’s family. I am already 1000 miles from them; Sacramento would be 2500 miles from them. 100 to 500 miles is good distance for family. Too far for the drop in and not so far if you need help. My family would drive you crazy but they will come if you need help. I hate the thought of seeing even less of them.

But then the ride goes up, and I think of the great time I would have taking them around California. My Mom is getting careful with her bananas, so now is the time to take her on an adventure. Wouldn’t it be better than Christmas if I could take my Mom to meet Pat Sajac? And I know Wayne has got a little thing for Vanna.

I would love to take the whole family on a CA tour, but plane tickets are not cheap and vacations often get used up for other things. And so the mental ride goes down with practical thoughts. Up down, up down, I don’t know, we’ll see what happens. I guess I am ready to get a forever house, and though I don't think it is the one we are in, I also don't think I want it to be in California.

So, it has been 5 days of ups and downs. I loved Sacramento, hated how far away it is. I loved seeing Lake Tahoe, and getting to visit Napa again. Hated the huge dough we had to drop. I loved the idea of the adventure we could have had and I hated the idea of leaving comfortable and familiar behind. Roller Coasters suck.

Simmer Down Now

I just can't relax anymore. I was sitting on my back porch, eating breakfast, not due at work for 3 hours, marveling at my yard and the cardinals and woodpeckers and the other side of my brain kept interrupting with post-its about what I should be doing. Geeze! What is it about modern day life that has programed us into some sort of multi-tasking frenzy? I never take the time to relax and enjoy the good stuff. IE; my lemon tree and how big it is getting. I feel guilty if I am not doing at least two things at once. Wayne says that's why I never get anything done when I want to, yet he feels guilty if he doesn't keep up with his workaholic boss and the tons of hours that guy puts in.

Rant Alert:

I miss the good ole days when I didn't feel like everything was a race. When we didn't work our tails off to have so much stuff that we had to have monthly storage spaces.

Cliche Alert:

We used to take time to smell the roses, now we buy rose scented air fresheners with automatic fans to blow the scent around.

I am currently reading Tom Sawyer (and Dr Phil) and I am struck by the slow pace of the world Twain depicts. People worked a lot harder then, but they did not feel the need to fill every moment with work.

I haven’t read Tom Sawyer in 30 years or so and the book reminds me that I can’t remember anything being fast when I was a kid. It used to take a year from one birthday to another and it seemed like Christmas wouldn’t come till sometime after you were dead. I am also struck by how wonderful Twain’s voice was; I hope that I was influenced by his style. He illustrates the simple pleasures of life in the scene where Tom and one of his school boy chums have a game of Pong with a tick. They are amused forever by whacking the bug around with pins. I wish I could get back to that kind of calm. I don't know how I got to where I am bored watching TV, reading a book and eating at the same time? I have a weird need to always be doing something, and it seems I get less and less done.

There are so many things I want to do, but I want to enjoy doing them. I want to be able to really experience each thing and not just move from event to event, task to task, book to book, so that I can cross them off my list.

So, my new plan is to read one book at a time, do one task at a time, and live one event at a time. I want to rewire my brain back to when I subconsciously understood that not doing something is doing something. Take care and slow down.

Wendy

Thank you Ishan De Silva

A big Thank you goes out to Ishan De Silva for writing the code to make this a 3 column blog. Here is a link to the instructions.

http://bguide.blogspot.com/2008/05/3-column-templates-scribe-left-and.html

Ishan must be really smart to make this easy enough for me to do. You can too.

I am still tweaking colors but I love the new format.

Thanks again Ishan.

Wendy

I Know I Got it Good

Tonight I was making a sautéed fresh snapper dinner for my husband. A husband who genuinely loves me, maybe even more than I love him, if that’s possible.

He usually does the cooking, but he has been working so hard lately I wanted to make something special for him. Fresh snapper, Frank Family chardonnay, and yummy mashed potatoes.

It was almost ready, when I realized I forgotten to get a lemon. You simply have to have fresh lemon to finalize the dish. What’s fresh snapper without fresh lemon?

I needed a lemon.

So, I went out in the back yard and picked one off the tree he planted for me.