Up the creek

This morning I had a chance to watch most of a movie I had seen many years ago called "Cross Creek". The star was Mary Steenburgen, who is married to Ted Danson in real life. She plays Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, the author of "The Yearling" and other books. The story itself is based on her life and its notes, telling about life living on Cross Creek. 

This brought back memories of a trip my family took to Micanopy, FL and Cross Creek back in 1990's. We arrived too early to take the tour of Rawlings home and property so we had to hang out in Micanopy for a bit. This little town was nothing but little gift shops and antique stores. One thing I remember was finding a bin of albums in an antique store and seeing one of my collection for sale there. What? "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" by Iron Butterfly was certainly NOT an antique album. It might be now, but then, no, it was not! 

I also remember us visiting an ice cream shop and getting some fudge, if memory serves. Of course, things were expensive as they took advantage of the people passing through on their way to Cross Creek. I do not recall much about what we saw  or did once able to take the tour other than walking around the grounds and looking inside the house. We did enjoy our day trips (Ha, Day trips!) and this was one of those. 

A little piece of trivia about this sleepy town of Micanopy is the movie "Doc Hollywood" was later filmed there. I have not been back to see the place since the filming so don't know if the town was spruced up for the movie or not. Marjorie, in the movie today, was told over and over by people how difficult life on the creek can be, how some don't make it (physically or economically) and so on, but this did not deter her. She managed to have people around her to help maintain the cabin and her property so she could focus on writing. At this time she was penning Gothic novels which were not as good as her true tales from Cross Creek. And, of course, she had a love interest. 

It was fun to watch it again after decades of my first viewing and have a new appreciation for the landscape and region where she lived here in N. Central Florida. Cross Creek is outside of Gainesville, about an hour and a half southwest of here. This was the first time, also, when we saw black and white striped cows, commonly called Oreos. For a boy raised on a farm, this was quite the sight! The ends of the cow with hooves was black and the middle was wide band of white. Most unusual! I had a fun trip today without leaving the house.

A bunch of flowers!

Last night Justin asked me what my plans were for today. I explained I was going with the Over 50 group from church to Mandarin for lunch. Why? He had some deliveries coming and one of them required a signature. I told him if I was ready to leave before they came, I would ask Connie to sign for it, which is common around here. Justin told me one of the packages needed to be opened immediately so now I was curious. Sherry's Berries, perhaps?

I put a note on the door for the UPS man that Connie would be authorized to sign for the package. All the arrangements were made---Connie would put the package (a new cell phone) on the counter in the kitchen once signed for. I didn't know what to tell her about the other one. As it turned out, I was still at home when the door bell rang. It was a FedEx man with both deliveries. I took the large box from him and then signed for the smaller one. While I was standing there, I went to reach the note for the UPS man. The FedEx guy acted wounded, but I explained that the watch came via UPS last week so I simply assumed the phone would come UPS as well. But I talked fast and told him my neighbor is a pilot for FedEx to soothe his wounded feelings. All in good fun, of course. 

                                 

This lovely bouquet of flowers is what came in the larger box and needed to be opened right away. What a sweet guy he is!

Judy C. came to pick me up for lunch as Twila's and my designated driver. The group was trying a new place (for most of us) called St. Mary's Seafood, located in the plaza for Hobby Lobby. Guess it has been there a while but just wasn't noticed. We had 14 people including 3 men. The food and service for a group this size was fantastic, with me enjoying fish with the rest of them. I had the fried pollack, two giant fillets, plus two sides. I sampled them (got a third one because it was extra and the manager saw fit to give me the green beans!) and brought the rest home with me. Judy took the half of the fillet I didn't eat as I didn't want to reheat fish. As far as I know, everyone liked their meals.    

                                                                                                     

I won't name everyone in the photo but closest to the camera are Judy C., Twila, Fausto and Julaine. I was on the end next to Judy. On the far end was Gretchen, seated next to Ethel. The bad thing about eating at long tables is not being able to talk with everyone. Unfortunate but it can't be helped with so many diners. 

A matter of language

I have a few pet peeves, most of which I don't think about until they come up. This particular peeve comes up more often than I would like so here goes: the use of the expression "cussin'". 

Nit picky at bit? Yes, it might be to some but it matters to me. Cussing is a euphemism for cursing. Cursing is damning someone or something to hell, away from the face of God. Swearing is not cursing nor is it cussin'. It is actually taking an oath, asking the Lord to verify what you are saying is truth. Or just asking in general to prove that something is true. It has now come to encompass language which is offensive, which diminishes the value of taking an oath. 

Some describe movies or TV shows as having cussin' in them but more likely it is what was once considered to be filthy language, what I call 'the language of the streets'. It is heard not only in the streets but in kitchens and classrooms, at scenes of crimes or traffic accidents. The most vile words never spoken in polite company in the past are now used even by children without compunction, sometimes repeating what they've heard or have been called. There is little restraint from using these filthy words in social situations. I've had to insist guests in my home refrain from every sort of such words in my presence, and for the most part, this is respected. 

What is tragic is that people no longer recognize such profane or vulgar language as being what it is. I don't agree that it is a matter of opinion either because there are times where most people can control themselves when in the right situation. 

We are an educated and decent society for the most part, (putting on my rose-colored glasses again), and do hope that if enough people speak up about it, object, this practice will be reversed. There are enough perfectly good words to use to express dismay over something or to describe a situation. Make use of them and adjust the conversation. I have the same hope for the misuse of the Lord's name, the use of OMG in Facebook posts or text messaging, or spoken, even having this abbreviation added to the dictionary as a new 'word'. That's another post!!! 

There are TV shows which Justin enjoys, most notably the cooking or bar renovation programs, which are just loaded with bleep bleep bleep. Now, I am not a person fond of cooking per se but I can prepare a meal and get it served without resorting to the use of profanity. But it puts butts in the seats, so to speak, which makes me wonder if the producers and writers are encouraging it. Of course they are!!!  A recent movie I paid to see made use of one word which makes me flinch, when, as a word person, I could have found something else. But the word is used for punctuation, to bring the point home, supposedly. Or to jack up the rating because certainly no one would go see a PG movie...Ugh, that bugs me!

"It's just a house"

The other day my neighbor hosted a fashion party in her home. I enjoy going even though the garments are not designed for people of size. The ladies who attend are so nice to meet, and take turns modeling the attire for our critique. This time my upstairs friend, Debbie, was there which made it even more fun for me. 

When I had an opportunity, I asked the hostess about her daughters. I didn't realize that both her daughters were in graduate school, only knew about one. Her older daughter is getting an advanced degree in her field which is civil engineering and urban planning. The study she is writing her thesis on is based in 'placement'. What does that mean? 

I understand that her paper addresses communities and its people, and why they live where and how they do it. What keeps people living in the areas prone to natural disasters, or living in depressed economies when jobs are waiting for them elsewhere? Why do people endure those long, miserable winters up north instead of moving to more temperate states? Their company is closing in town with the option to relocate with the business to the new area, but they decline. Or, their home or neighborhood is crumbling but the thought of leaving is out of the question. I am sure her paper will be much more technically and academically presented but it sure is an interesting subject to consider. 

Years ago some friends of mine built a home in a neighborhood not too far from where we lived. Oh, what a nice home it was going to be for this family! Not long after getting moved in, the districts for the gov't schools were redrawn and their kids would have to attend lesser rated schools. Oh, oh....They put their new house on the market and started looking in the area where the schools were better. I asked, "How can you leave this beautiful house???" and my friend said, "It's just a house..." Yes, I get that, having moved 27 times myself, but in my case, it was our business. 

This subject is fascinating to me as I do observe people who are basically glued in place despite their circumstances because nothing can move them off of 'go'. It reminds me of the influx of staff at Sprint years back when a Voice Services center in Kansas City closed. Those willing to make the move with the company did so, and came halfway across the country to FL to continue in their employment. This was a blessing for the company as these people were already trained, all they had to do was plug in their headsets and start taking calls. How brave of them to uproot themselves and/or families in order to keep their jobs. There are some people who might think that is a ludicrous thing to do. "It's just a house..."

While I can't wrap my head around why people live in the less than ideal living situations (i.e. shoveling, scraping, salting, slipping, sliding, layering...), I also am reluctant to consider moving. No matter how many leaks I have or how often I am leaked on, 95% of the time I love it here. When people encourage me to move back to WI, (where I belong, according to my mom!) I am emphatic with my 'no!'. Some people can't imagine moving away from family, living where it is hot and humid, at risk for tropical storms or worse. And have real traffic! Barring unforeseen circumstances, I am affected by being stuck in place as well. 

Do people who live in Siberia defend it because they are stuck there, or because they really love it? Do they defend their choice at all? How about people who live in Hawaii? You never hear people say to Siberians, "Man, you live in paradise!" With all the communication and transportation available, everyone must know there is something or somewhere beyond their back door. Is it contentment, satisfaction with being okay we are that keeps us where we are? Or, is it fear? Good stuff to think about!

Seeing an old friend

Or, really, a young friend. A few weeks ago I was contacted by one of my Facebook friends, Ashley, who was going to be in the area on business. She wanted to get together and spend some time catching up. I love it, of course. 

A little history: Ashley's older sister, Megan, used to babysit for us when we were neighbors in EH. We have many connections, actually, with her dad having been my manager at Sprint, they were customers of ours in Fiddlers Ridge, neighbors when we lived in FR, we took their kids to VBS, and we were friends as well. Bob accepted a transfer to TX after I had left Sprint when Timmy was born. We met up with Bob and Beth once when we had traveled to Dallas for a Builders' Convention. That was it. So, I will guess it has been 20 years since I have seen the family, though Facebook allows some of us to remain connected. 

Ashley works for a major hotel chain and visits the hotels to help the staff get up and running on new programs used for booking, etc. She gets around! Now 30 years old and married a couple years, her home is near Denver. The whole family lives there (even some grandparents, I think) and all her in-laws. I told her how I am joined by students from Rocky Mountain Lutheran High School in the summer and she knows their school, which is cool. 

We met at Grumpy's for a late breakfast, still having to wait for a table. I was so glad the rush sort of let up which allowed us to sit for two hours and visit. There was never a quiet moment, so much to talk about! I heard all about her folks, Mom is a teacher of special needs kids including the physically handicapped, and Dad still works for Sprint but as a sideline works for a small airline which allows for travel perks. They are getting close to retirement time, not age, which is cool for them. Ashley's spouse works with many of his family members in a local business. And, they bought a house, in the process of finishing touches. 

Justin was invited to join us but he is still laid up with his goofy back. Ashley asked how old he is as neither her dad nor she could figure it out. When I said he was 27, she laughed. She is only 3 years older than he and wondered why she babysat for him. I said she most likely was there for Timmy, and Justin was not old enough to care for his brother or to stay alone. Now it made sense to her. 

Anyway, we had a great visit, talked about all sorts of things besides just catching up, and the time flew by. Very nicely Ashley picked up the tab as she has an expense account just for such occasions. She had other plans for the day, former classmates to catch up with so we parted company. She would like to perhaps stop by later to greet Justin but he is really not up to visitors. I feel so badly for him, but she understands. 

After we left Grumpy's, I went to Winn Dixie as they had the best price on Diet Cokes. As I pushed a little cart from the parking lot to the store, I hit a rut and the cart popped back, hitting me in the right shin. Yikes! I was hoping no one saw this---got it straightened out, and kept on pushing along. Bet that will bruise! Loading my cart with six cartons of soda, I was sad I had to take a flavor which was not my favorite because of being out of regular Diet Coke Decaf. As I came around the corner, I met the distributor counting cases on the end cap and asked him if he had any diet decaf coming since I had taken the last one. He said he would go check and came back with 5 cases for me, transferring the other ones out and reloading my cart with the 'good' ones. I was so very thankful to him, a nice young man. 

Since my boy is home resting his aching back, I asked him what I could get for him. Justin said he needed some DayQuil and I got him some throat lozenges as well. A person doesn't need a sore back and throat at the same time. I picked up a few other items and headed for home with my purchases. The rest of my day will be here at my desk.

Justin injured himself on Tuesday and has worked everyday since, coming home all doubled over from back pain. Friday he worked a half-day (about 5 hours) and came home, having had enough. His boss asked him to dinner last night to Whitey's as usual, but he declined, thinking the wood benches would not be good for him. His boss should have known better than to tempt Justin with chicken wings when he's got a bad back! Justin is supposed to go to his friend's house tonight for a birthday dinner but am not sure that will happen either. The ice packs and heat pad have been his friends for now, and me, trying to be helper but not a pest!

I'm no lover

A lady I know is struggling financially, has to decide what she can participate in each month based on how long the gas lasts in her car, that type of thing. I felt badly for her and wished things were easier for her. One day I was sitting across the table from her at a dinner and she was telling about her cat. The cat was having troubles with its kidneys (that sounds like a vet bill to me) and now the cat has to have special food which costs $40. Wait, what? Before I could say anything, she looked at me and said, "I know what you're going to say..." Oh, do you really? 

It may come as no surprise to anyone that I am not a lover of animals. For over two decades of my married life I held fast to not introducing pets to the mix of our household. Besides not being fond of animals, I cannot imagine trying to keep up a house with animals in it and have the place always ready to show potential customers. Pets smell and can wreak havoc on furniture and houses. I know this from being in the business, including having warranty issues after someone's dogs toe nails scratched up their hardwood floor. That would never do!

We got a dog for Timmy for Christmas 2000 with plans to get Justin the cat he wanted. Mickey the beagle was nothing but trouble from the get go, ending up in the pool on Christmas morning. He had to be fished out with the net. I know, Ironic, right? Justin's cat, Boots, was not a problem at all but it was a hassle with the litter box and feeding, etc. Mickey left our house not a moment too soon to live elsewhere but Boots and later Lynx moved with us to the lake house and then to this condo. 

I did not spend huge sums of money on these pets, except for buying Mickey ($250, I think) plus the neutering for the three animals. Over the years Mickey moved away, Boots went to live with our friends, the Lawcocks, and Lynx was put down.  It did cost me money to have to replace a mattress which was used as a litter box and to have my own bed professionally cleaned for the same reason. Ugh! So glad to not have them any longer.

On the left is Boots plus his two roommates at Lawcocks

I have friends who pay hundreds of dollars to maintain their pets. One couple paid $700 for hip surgery for their dog. Tonight I saw a commercial for pet food with no GMO content, etc., showing it served in crystal bowls. Even some Food Network divas have their own line of pet food. At Winn Dixie where is a refrigerator case just with pet food in it, with FRESH stickers plastered to it. I just don't get it. The pet industry is a huge one, that's for sure. 

When the markets fell a few years ago, my dentist told me that her business had fallen off dramatically but people were still taking their pets to be groomed. Go figure. When I have dinner with my friends, I take my to-go box home for me, and they take theirs home for the dogs. I just can't sit still for that!  Now, I am done with my expounding on animals.

"Who made the salad??"

That was a refrain from a long ago commercial for Seven Seas Salad Dressing. Who remembers this? Around the room the question is asked as people enjoy their salads, "Who made the salad?"  The ad's response was "Me, and Seven Seas!" But, this time, it was me! Not well known for my culinary delights, I do pull one off now and again. More than once Justin has complimented me on my chicken salad. I am good for making a few things which garner compliments.

This time I used some chicken breasts which I had marinated in Caesar dressing and then I baked them. We were running out of time to eat them for dinner so instead, I made chicken salad. The process started using the blitz hacker to chop the meat but then I switched to simply using Justin's Sharper Image knife from Nancy to cut the breasts into teeny pieces. Oh, it smelled so good, savory, I guess. 

All I do is mix the chicken with mayo and some pickle relish, plus a squirt of salad mustard, and it is done! I enjoyed it on bread and will have some more another time on crackers. I don't know why Justin worries about me starving to death---somehow I manage, and nicely so!