LILLY'S LEEK DANCE
SISTER DANCE 1
SISTER DANCE 2
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Up and Down; and Upchuck
In an effort to maintain some level of physical effort and not be total slugs, Sue and I formed a compact. We declared that unless we had to carry something of significant weight, we were to walk up and down the stairs to get from the condo to the beach. I agreed to the plan before I knew where the condo was situated. As it happens we’ve been staying in condo number 616.
The sixth floor.
Day One at the beach was not so bad; the energy supported by a certain exuberance that comes naturally when doing something exciting and new allowed me to leap up and down the stairs with a seemingly boundless energy. By the end of the first day I was drained, a little dehydrated, a little bit of sunburn (Did you know that even though one might sit in the shade, it is still possible to receive a sunburn from the mere reflection of the sun off the white sand beaches?), and a little too much beer.
I met the second day with a little less bounce in my step. Every time my foot made contact with the surface below it, I felt the sting of yesterday’s sunburn. Every time I inhaled, I felt the dryness of slight dehydration. With every step, my calf muscles burned from the previous day’s activity. Shortly after lunch, I had to make a trip back up the stairs to the condo. About half way up I vomited just a bit in my mouth. I cursed the stairs. At that moment I resolved that I would only take one more trip up for the rest of the day. We stayed on the beach until dinner time.
It’s Day Three of our beach vacation.
I hate the stairs.
The sixth floor.
Day One at the beach was not so bad; the energy supported by a certain exuberance that comes naturally when doing something exciting and new allowed me to leap up and down the stairs with a seemingly boundless energy. By the end of the first day I was drained, a little dehydrated, a little bit of sunburn (Did you know that even though one might sit in the shade, it is still possible to receive a sunburn from the mere reflection of the sun off the white sand beaches?), and a little too much beer.
I met the second day with a little less bounce in my step. Every time my foot made contact with the surface below it, I felt the sting of yesterday’s sunburn. Every time I inhaled, I felt the dryness of slight dehydration. With every step, my calf muscles burned from the previous day’s activity. Shortly after lunch, I had to make a trip back up the stairs to the condo. About half way up I vomited just a bit in my mouth. I cursed the stairs. At that moment I resolved that I would only take one more trip up for the rest of the day. We stayed on the beach until dinner time.
It’s Day Three of our beach vacation.
I hate the stairs.
Monday, June 15, 2009
The Alternate Reality of a Beach Vacation
I have discovered yet another evidence that beach vacations do indeed cause a ripple in the space time continuum. Sometimes those ripples are so severe, we a thrust onto another, alternative, reality. Chaos theory predicts that it is possible to shift between realities, this trip to the beach is proving the validity of the theory.
This morning, just before noon, I was sitting on the beach reading a book. All the kids and all of the adults went back up to the condo, leaving me alone to enjoy the sounds of the crashing waves, the call of the sea birds, the laughter of other people's children and the solitude to read my book. Everything I ever imagined a beach vacation could be was being manifest before my eyes. Tears were welling up in my eyes as I considered the glory of the moment.
I gathered my emotions and continued reading.
Perhaps I had five minutes of this idyllic circumstance when Sue came down to join me. She said she felt badly that I had been left alone. Surprisingly, she had little to say to me. She just spread out a blanket and lay down. It didn't take long for her to get restless. She rose from her position and looked at me like she was about to ask me for something.
She looked at me and asked, "Are you hungry?"
"A little," I replied.
"Everyone went upstairs to get lunch."
"Uh-huh," I said with trepidation.
"Would you like me to bring you some lunch?"
It was at this point that all my programmed responses failed me. There has been very little in my experience that would have prepared me for that question. I expected, "Would you like to go up and get lunch with me?" or "Let's go upstairs and get some lunch." But instead I was asked, "Would you like me to bring you some lunch?"
I'm sure I must have had that stunned look of a deer caught in the beam of headlights of an oncoming car because Sue then asked me the same question again.
As the shock wore off, I spoke with perfect honesty, "I don't know how to respond. Of course I would like to have you bring me lunch, but I somehow feel I have to say 'no'."
She laughed and asked, "What are you afraid of?"
"I don't know, but 'yes' just didn't feel right."
Sue left me with my book and went upstairs to fetch my lunch. To be perfectly honest, I did not expect her to return, but about ten minutes later she came down with a lovingly prepared chicken salad sandwich, some carrot sticks and a side of chips.
Vacations can play tricks on your mind, on the behavioral patterns of loved ones, and I believe, in this case, on the very fabric of space and time.
This morning, just before noon, I was sitting on the beach reading a book. All the kids and all of the adults went back up to the condo, leaving me alone to enjoy the sounds of the crashing waves, the call of the sea birds, the laughter of other people's children and the solitude to read my book. Everything I ever imagined a beach vacation could be was being manifest before my eyes. Tears were welling up in my eyes as I considered the glory of the moment.
I gathered my emotions and continued reading.
Perhaps I had five minutes of this idyllic circumstance when Sue came down to join me. She said she felt badly that I had been left alone. Surprisingly, she had little to say to me. She just spread out a blanket and lay down. It didn't take long for her to get restless. She rose from her position and looked at me like she was about to ask me for something.
She looked at me and asked, "Are you hungry?"
"A little," I replied.
"Everyone went upstairs to get lunch."
"Uh-huh," I said with trepidation.
"Would you like me to bring you some lunch?"
It was at this point that all my programmed responses failed me. There has been very little in my experience that would have prepared me for that question. I expected, "Would you like to go up and get lunch with me?" or "Let's go upstairs and get some lunch." But instead I was asked, "Would you like me to bring you some lunch?"
I'm sure I must have had that stunned look of a deer caught in the beam of headlights of an oncoming car because Sue then asked me the same question again.
As the shock wore off, I spoke with perfect honesty, "I don't know how to respond. Of course I would like to have you bring me lunch, but I somehow feel I have to say 'no'."
She laughed and asked, "What are you afraid of?"
"I don't know, but 'yes' just didn't feel right."
Sue left me with my book and went upstairs to fetch my lunch. To be perfectly honest, I did not expect her to return, but about ten minutes later she came down with a lovingly prepared chicken salad sandwich, some carrot sticks and a side of chips.
Vacations can play tricks on your mind, on the behavioral patterns of loved ones, and I believe, in this case, on the very fabric of space and time.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Backing Up On My Beach Vacation
I think there is a law written somewhere that whenever you are with family, eating is involved. There really doesn't need to be a holiday or wedding or funeral for this law to be invoked. All that needs to happen is that you have to get together with a part of your family that you do not share a roof with.
Last night we arrived at the grandparents' house. Pops wasn't there. He was on his way back from picking up some crawfish. So we ate crawfish; me, Sue, the boys, my brother and his family and my folks. Thirty-five pounds of crawfish with some corn and potatoes, and I think we had seven mudbugs left over. Six adults and 4 kids, of which only one could really eat on his own, I think the other kids went hungry. As the Apostle Paul says, "If you don't work, you don't eat."
Woke up this morning way too early, thirsty and bloated from all the salt in the crawfish the night before. But that's not all. When you eat too much salty food, and don't include any green vegetables in your diet, your body functions differently. Despite three cups of coffee that could melt your fingernails, there was no "movement." I am all about "movement." Under normal situations I am like clockwork. A couple of cups of coffee, wait thrity minutes, grab the newspaper and head to the reading room.
Five more hours of driving to get to the condo, and still nothing. The fullness I feel is more than I've experienced in a while. I drove most of the way to the condo with my pants unbuttoned. The seatbelt had to be loosened a little too often. I was squirming the whole time. As we got close, with the gulf breeze as an excuse, I rolled the windows down. My family doesn't know it, but they owe me a huge apology for complaining about the rolled down windows.
That experience passed, so to speak, and we arrived at the condo. We were greeted by my sister-in-law, who was busy preparing for our arrival.
As an aside, my wife is a genius. We rented a three bedroom condo. She told her brothers and sisters and this one cousin that we would pay for the condo under the condition that they were responsible for cooking.
Tonight’s meal was the responsibility of my sister-in-law that lives nearby. Tonight’s menu: lasagna.
Imagine bloated, constipated, and I am going to pile on pasta, cheeses and meat.
If you need me I’ll be on my throne. Waiting, hoping, praying.
Last night we arrived at the grandparents' house. Pops wasn't there. He was on his way back from picking up some crawfish. So we ate crawfish; me, Sue, the boys, my brother and his family and my folks. Thirty-five pounds of crawfish with some corn and potatoes, and I think we had seven mudbugs left over. Six adults and 4 kids, of which only one could really eat on his own, I think the other kids went hungry. As the Apostle Paul says, "If you don't work, you don't eat."
Woke up this morning way too early, thirsty and bloated from all the salt in the crawfish the night before. But that's not all. When you eat too much salty food, and don't include any green vegetables in your diet, your body functions differently. Despite three cups of coffee that could melt your fingernails, there was no "movement." I am all about "movement." Under normal situations I am like clockwork. A couple of cups of coffee, wait thrity minutes, grab the newspaper and head to the reading room.
Five more hours of driving to get to the condo, and still nothing. The fullness I feel is more than I've experienced in a while. I drove most of the way to the condo with my pants unbuttoned. The seatbelt had to be loosened a little too often. I was squirming the whole time. As we got close, with the gulf breeze as an excuse, I rolled the windows down. My family doesn't know it, but they owe me a huge apology for complaining about the rolled down windows.
That experience passed, so to speak, and we arrived at the condo. We were greeted by my sister-in-law, who was busy preparing for our arrival.
As an aside, my wife is a genius. We rented a three bedroom condo. She told her brothers and sisters and this one cousin that we would pay for the condo under the condition that they were responsible for cooking.
Tonight’s meal was the responsibility of my sister-in-law that lives nearby. Tonight’s menu: lasagna.
Imagine bloated, constipated, and I am going to pile on pasta, cheeses and meat.
If you need me I’ll be on my throne. Waiting, hoping, praying.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
A Family Vacation - Day One
Time for a family vacation. We're headed to the pearl of the Redneck Riviera, Fort Walton Beach, Florida. I've been to a number of beaches in the continental U.S., and the beaches of the Florida panhandle are some of the most beautiful. Walking along the beach with my wife, playing in the surf with my kids, lounging on the white sand beaches while soaking in the view of the azure blue waters. Sounds great, doesn't it?
On this vacation, Sue has invited her brothers, sisters and one of her cousins to join us, along with their kids. The invitations resulted in two sisters and a female cousin along with all their kids, for a sum total of me, four women, and seven boys between the ages of 6 and 16.
So as a preview we began our trip with a drive from home to a layover with the grandparents in Baton Rouge. For the first two hours, my lovely bride tried to coordinate a flight for her drifter of a brother to meet us at the condo. There was a lot of talking to airline reservation agents, sisters, cousins and mothers. About two hours into that effort, she gave up. We stopped for lunch, gas, and biological reasons a few minutes later.
Back in the car, Sue talked to me about how we need to prepare ourselves to move into a new house, about how we can't possibly have more children, about how she hoped the dogs were okay and on and on and on...
Oh, and we took a picture.
Another bio break two hours later.
Back in the car, the conversations shifted to her mother. About how her mother had started giving all of Grandma's jewelry away, how some of the jewelry was ugly and how when we have a little extra money we should reset the stone in one of the rings, about doing yoga on the beach. There was a blessed interruption of a phone call from one of her sisters to coordinate meeting up tomorrow for the final leg of the journey to the beach. After the coordination was complete, going to sister-in-laws, we spoke about the lunacy of her father and, did I mention, we're going to her dad's house to visit my brand new sister-in-law. That's right my children have a new aunt.
About fifteen minutes left to go in our trip to Baton Rouge, I heard the most magical, wonderful words I never thought I would ever hear from my wife: "My throat hurts. Maybe I should stop talking.
The silence lasted about thirty seconds. It was the most wonderful thirty seconds I have ever experienced.
Ever.
Then the talking began again.
I can't wait for day two.
On this vacation, Sue has invited her brothers, sisters and one of her cousins to join us, along with their kids. The invitations resulted in two sisters and a female cousin along with all their kids, for a sum total of me, four women, and seven boys between the ages of 6 and 16.
So as a preview we began our trip with a drive from home to a layover with the grandparents in Baton Rouge. For the first two hours, my lovely bride tried to coordinate a flight for her drifter of a brother to meet us at the condo. There was a lot of talking to airline reservation agents, sisters, cousins and mothers. About two hours into that effort, she gave up. We stopped for lunch, gas, and biological reasons a few minutes later.
Back in the car, Sue talked to me about how we need to prepare ourselves to move into a new house, about how we can't possibly have more children, about how she hoped the dogs were okay and on and on and on...
Oh, and we took a picture.
Another bio break two hours later.
Back in the car, the conversations shifted to her mother. About how her mother had started giving all of Grandma's jewelry away, how some of the jewelry was ugly and how when we have a little extra money we should reset the stone in one of the rings, about doing yoga on the beach. There was a blessed interruption of a phone call from one of her sisters to coordinate meeting up tomorrow for the final leg of the journey to the beach. After the coordination was complete, going to sister-in-laws, we spoke about the lunacy of her father and, did I mention, we're going to her dad's house to visit my brand new sister-in-law. That's right my children have a new aunt.
About fifteen minutes left to go in our trip to Baton Rouge, I heard the most magical, wonderful words I never thought I would ever hear from my wife: "My throat hurts. Maybe I should stop talking.
The silence lasted about thirty seconds. It was the most wonderful thirty seconds I have ever experienced.
Ever.
Then the talking began again.
I can't wait for day two.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The Ant Wars - Woe to the Weak Willed
From Lincoln, Nebraska a news story was published today that provides some advice for homeowners struggling with ant infestations. The reporter and the "expert" she consulted are clearly people without the vision and tenacity to actually win this war.
At the conclusion of Barb the ant expert's recommendations, her (not-so) encouraging advice is, "good luck." The tenor of the article is clearly not the supportive and encouraging "good luck," but the you-don't-have-a-snowball's-chance-in-hell kind of "good luck."
To these nay-sayers I reply, "Man up!" As I have clearly demonstrated in my battles with the ants, it is possible to win this war or at least reach a sort of rapprochement. There will be days when the cause seems hopeless. You may feel there is no chance at victory. But consistent, concerted, multi-dimensional attack plan will result in victory.
For all those struggling in their war with the ants, have faith, be strong, and you will be victorious.
Not like those defeatist Cornhuskers. It's no wonder their football team sucks.
At the conclusion of Barb the ant expert's recommendations, her (not-so) encouraging advice is, "good luck." The tenor of the article is clearly not the supportive and encouraging "good luck," but the you-don't-have-a-snowball's-chance-in-hell kind of "good luck."
To these nay-sayers I reply, "Man up!" As I have clearly demonstrated in my battles with the ants, it is possible to win this war or at least reach a sort of rapprochement. There will be days when the cause seems hopeless. You may feel there is no chance at victory. But consistent, concerted, multi-dimensional attack plan will result in victory.
For all those struggling in their war with the ants, have faith, be strong, and you will be victorious.
Not like those defeatist Cornhuskers. It's no wonder their football team sucks.
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Ant Wars: An Act of God
Oncor blames fire ants for power surge in Carrollton homes News for Dallas, Texas Dallas Morning News Latest News
Shared via AddThis
For those of you in the unenlightened corners of the world that have yet to discover electricity deregulation, Oncor is the regulated portion of our deregulated electricity delivery system in Texas.
Oncor has the nerve to call an ant infestation in a tranformer an "Act of God."
For those of you who have been following my tales of The Ant Wars, you will have to come to the conclusion that ant infestations cannot be an "act of God," but can only be an "Act of Satan."
Ants are evil little creatures that are constantly on the march of death and destruction against any one or thing they encounter.
Oncor clearly does not understand the destructive intention that ants have, and they are clearly unwilling to admit that the sentient intentions of ants cannot possibly be at the behest of the creator of time and space.
If you know the people affected by this electrical disaster, please refer them to my stories, so that they may have solace in their time of need.
Shared via AddThis
For those of you in the unenlightened corners of the world that have yet to discover electricity deregulation, Oncor is the regulated portion of our deregulated electricity delivery system in Texas.
Oncor has the nerve to call an ant infestation in a tranformer an "Act of God."
For those of you who have been following my tales of The Ant Wars, you will have to come to the conclusion that ant infestations cannot be an "act of God," but can only be an "Act of Satan."
Ants are evil little creatures that are constantly on the march of death and destruction against any one or thing they encounter.
Oncor clearly does not understand the destructive intention that ants have, and they are clearly unwilling to admit that the sentient intentions of ants cannot possibly be at the behest of the creator of time and space.
If you know the people affected by this electrical disaster, please refer them to my stories, so that they may have solace in their time of need.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
The Ant Wars - Know Thy Enemy
There is a maxim of war that every great general must understand to be successful. Never underestimate your enemy! We must be constantly vigilant in our need to learn about our enemy, know its ways, discover its strenghts and its weaknesses through observation and through trial and error.
As with any war we must study. And it is in my studies that I have learned about The Smithsonian National Museum's exhibit that just started and will run through October 10, 2009. Perhaps we can take a late summer vacation up to D.C. to view the new exhibit, "Farmers, Warriors, Builders: The Hidden Life of Ants."
Perhaps the most daunting challenge we face is mechanical destruction of the mound. The Smithsonian has published a graphic of a cast of an ant colony's mound. It is deep, it is detailed and it is virtually impenetrable to its deepest chambers. In short it is frightening. You can see it by selecting the following link: http://www.mnh.si.edu/ants/photogallery/antsNest.htm
As with any war we must study. And it is in my studies that I have learned about The Smithsonian National Museum's exhibit that just started and will run through October 10, 2009. Perhaps we can take a late summer vacation up to D.C. to view the new exhibit, "Farmers, Warriors, Builders: The Hidden Life of Ants."
Perhaps the most daunting challenge we face is mechanical destruction of the mound. The Smithsonian has published a graphic of a cast of an ant colony's mound. It is deep, it is detailed and it is virtually impenetrable to its deepest chambers. In short it is frightening. You can see it by selecting the following link: http://www.mnh.si.edu/ants/photogallery/antsNest.htm
Monday, June 1, 2009
The Ant Wars - Mutiny?
The vast ant armies launched their version of the Tet Offensive. For about a week we were overrun, fighting back the invading armies with the best weapons in our arsenal. Orange oil mixture as a front line weapon, boric acid and D.E. to create an impenetrable barrier, Spinosad bait to take them out from within, and my thumb as a last resort.
Ants were everywhere, in the kitchen, in the sun room, in the boys' bedrooms, and in the master bathroom. The only defenses that proved worthy was the the defenses established at the very beginning of our war, the dining room.
Ants had gotten into our home to such an extent, we had to put cereal in the fridge, all dry goods went in zipper bags, and the dogs had twenty minutes to eat, then the food was picked up.
But one day last week, the offensive stopped. Oh sure, I'll see a lone ant scout every now and again, but for the most part, the ants are not entering the house.
I don't know why the ants aren't coming in anymore, but I have two theories:
For now I'll wait and watch. I'll strengthen the defensive perimeter, I will attack my enemy's enemy, and I will table the tactic of sickening the queen with bait. This is a gamble, to be certain. But all too often it is in misplaced pride that the consequences end in disaster.
Ants were everywhere, in the kitchen, in the sun room, in the boys' bedrooms, and in the master bathroom. The only defenses that proved worthy was the the defenses established at the very beginning of our war, the dining room.
Ants had gotten into our home to such an extent, we had to put cereal in the fridge, all dry goods went in zipper bags, and the dogs had twenty minutes to eat, then the food was picked up.
But one day last week, the offensive stopped. Oh sure, I'll see a lone ant scout every now and again, but for the most part, the ants are not entering the house.
I don't know why the ants aren't coming in anymore, but I have two theories:
- The Spinosad baits and the boric acid applications are working. The colonies are sick, and the queen is dying.
- I've noticed a couple of fire ant mounds in the yard. I noticed them at about the same time the little sugar ants stopped coming into the house. Is it possible that the more aggressive fire ants are attacking the sugar ant colonies and providing a mutinous distraction for the Ant Armies leadership?
For now I'll wait and watch. I'll strengthen the defensive perimeter, I will attack my enemy's enemy, and I will table the tactic of sickening the queen with bait. This is a gamble, to be certain. But all too often it is in misplaced pride that the consequences end in disaster.
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