Crazy Days

Well, this week certainly turned out to be one for the record books.

After my volunteer time at the library, I came home with only 2 books, which is an incredible demonstration of restraint for me.

The gregarious and affectionate Clouseau got his annual shots and felt very pitiful for the next day and a half. It was so sad to see him moping around. But it was good in a way, because it reminded me how dear he is and how much I love him -- something that's easy to become complacent about, even with those we love the most. Fortunately he's now back to his usual charming self.

We had friends in town but my back was hurting something fierce and radiating around to the front of my chest. Normally I'm rather stoic, but it's been going on for a while and reached some kind of a peak that made me wonder if I could be having another heart attack. (In case you don't know, women's heart attack symptoms can be very different from men's elephant-on-the-chest symptoms, so it pays to be cautious.) So after a delicious Thai dinner Kayak Guy and our friends dropped me at the Emergency Room. Better safe than sorry, right?

I can promise you that when you show up with a history and complain of chest pain, the ER staff gets very focused, very quickly. An EKG and some lab work later and they confirmed I was not having a repeat episode, so we're looking at back pain and the usual treatments of moderate activity, heating pads, etc. And I was home in 2 hours, after promising to see my cardiologist the next day. She was concerned but also thinking back pain, so it's all good. Hooray for tests that can give real answers to important questions!

With the "all clear" safely in hand, we went kayaking. (Kayaking doesn't bother my back at all. Go figure.) The wild sunflowers bloom extravagantly along the shores of Lake Jesup this time of year, and we hoped to paddle among them as we did last year. Unfortunately, the water levels did not allow that, so we were forced to look from afar.

Too deep to walk, too bushy to paddle. Sunflowers in the distance. 

You can't get there from here.

Near the parking lot, a clump taller than my head.

Narrow-leaf Swamp Sunflower, a Florida native.

A thunderstorm that passed just south of us made for some exciting wind and water on the way home, but all's well that ends well. It makes a better story when you have a little drama to go along with your adventure.

After the week I've had, you can be sure I'm giving Friday the kind of side-eye that says, "All right, come on, but no funny business, okay?"

Someone Loves Their Kitty

My neighbors made their kitty a cat run. It's hard to see here, but inside the chain link fence is a screened room, complete with a climbing tree, a log to scratch on, and I'm not sure what else.

I've seen the cat out there several times. Usually he/she is lounging and taking in the sights. This time I was the subject of scrutiny, so it made a better picture. I wanted to get closer, except because this is in their back yard, I decided not to trespass.

What a clever idea!

An Old-Fashioned Fourth

We spent the Fourth with friends, combining the festive and the local in just the right measure at the lakefront park in their community. Unfortunately, we missed the bike parade.

 

We were on time, however, for the concert of patriotic music by the neighborhood's "fun band."  The musicians' ages ranged from teen to retirement, and some of them have been in the band for 25 years. If Norman Rockwell never did a painting showing the various expressions of concentration, enjoyment, and surprise that musicians make while playing outdoors, well . . . he should have. 

Afterwards, it was time for barbecue, baked beans, cole slaw, sweet tea, and a tableful of homemade and store-bought desserts.  The two dogs in attendance were extremely well-behaved, and the people who arrived by boat were pretty sorry because it kept bouncing around in its moorings and having to be retied, until it grounded itself (and the father had to get in the water to free it).

When the party broke up, we visited with a new friend who showed us his fantastic arrowhead and pottery collection, all discovered while he was growing up near here. Amazing stuff.  His wife called them "your boring arrowheads," but we thought they were anything but boring. There's nothing like artifacts from a few thousand years ago to put America's 200 years into perspective.

On the way home we stopped for gelati, taking it home to the screened porch while listening to the first volleys of do-them-yourself fireworks. The weather wasn't promising for the celebration downtown, nor was the $5 parking charge, so we merely listened and kept an eye on the pets.

It never did rain, and there were lots and lots of pops and sizzles as we finished the day with candles, quiche and white wine on the porch. After all, the French supported the American Revolution, remember?

World Book Night

Twenty books in 60 minutes might be some kind of a record! It was certainly a lot easier than I expected to get people to engage in conversation and accept a special World Book Night edition of Fahrenheit 451.

In the end, on the same principle as pick-up lines, the simple, direct approach was best: "Hi, tonight is World Book Night. Would you like a free book?"  That was enough to get folks to pause for a look.

Once they paused, I said more. Sometimes I told them how much I liked the book. Sometimes I launched into a short description ("It's a story about a future time when it's illegal to own books. The government doesn't want people to think for themselves."). Sometimes I said it was a science fiction book, "but don't let that put you off." Sometimes I emphasized that it was written in 1951 but the author imagined some things that are weirdly accurate now.  I just went with my gut on what might appeal to the person.

Most people readily admitted they didn't read much, so they were squarely in the target audience of "light readers" and "non-readers."

By the end of the night I'd talked with people from India, New York, and Jamaica, from teens to retirees, and families, couples, and friends of both genders.  My impression was correct: the Riverwalk was a fantastic crossroads of my town. Sooner or later, everyone shows up there.  And it doesn't take long before the beauty of the place puts everyone in a good mood.

During the entire evening, only 3 people refused the book.  Anyone who remembers the "seashells" described in the book will appreciate the poetic appropriateness of the fact that all 3 of them were wearing earbuds attached to their iPods.

Life imitates art, in this case.

Hibernation Weekend

Even though it's spring shading into summer, my weekend included some hibernation.

Work has been extremely busy in recent months, to the point where all of us have been feeling a bit overwhelmed. That prompted my wise and perceptive boss to declare a "hibernation" period where we are going to concentrate on finishing work we have already started, postponing or avoiding unnecessary meetings, and tabling new projects until we get more comfortable with what's already going on.

I did a bit of the same thing in my personal life, too, though it was only one day of the weekend.

The weekend actually started on Thursday night with my town's monthly street party, Alive After Five. They close the main drag downtown to traffic and it fills up with vendors, food tents, people, dogs, and kids. This month's theme was Seafood Shindig. Here's a very bad photo of the pirate ship that was parked in front of one of the restaurants. (I need a little more practice with Hal's camera feature, obviously.) 

Afterwards we stopped in at the local blues bar. Real music, real people, real fun. The ceiling in this place is painted with chalkboard paint and when you are drunk enough they will give you the chalk so you can stand up on a table or the bar and write your own particular special message up there. The results are, shall we say, mixed. Not everyone draws pictures of hearts.

Friday was spent on the river, scouting for a paddling trip I'll be taking next month. Much as I enjoy the silence and closeness to nature of kayaking, it's fun to zoom along in a powerboat, too! 

Saturday was the hibernation part. I stayed home all day, except for a brief foray to the community garden to do my spring planting. Such a luxury to do chores, do some organizing, and generally catch up on things. It seems that when work gets busy, I start cutting corners everywhere at home, to make everything fit into the time available. I am still learning that taking some downtime before things spiral out of control is essential. But please don't ask me how many loads of laundry that took!

Sunday started slowly with more chores at home, including some yard work. My house has the typical bare grass backyard with a few spindly plants here and there. I'm working on transforming it (with my landlord's blessing) into a welcoming space that shows the best of Florida's lushness, and provides food, water and shelter to birds, butterflies, and small animals. That means laying out a plan, thanks to the local native plant nursery.

Yesterday, though, I was just laying out mulch, hoping to keep the lawn guy from mowing over my latest plantings. They don't look like traditional landscaping, so I want to be sure he can tell they belong. Eventually I won't need to mulch except with my own leaves, but in the meantime: I need to speak to him in a language he understands. And that language is pine bark.  

Sunday afternoon we went hiking, back to one of my favorite springs.  It was a perfect day to be out, just hinting of the coming summer heat. The same place is so different in different seasons, and I never tire of seeing what's new in Nature.

This spring was restored 10 years ago, after being drowned under a lake created by a farmer who wanted to water his cattle. After the property was acquired as state land, a restoration project removed the dam and uncovered the little ravine where the spring vents and boils lie. After being entombed under so much water, the spring was barely flowing and the banks were nothing but mud. In the time since, though, they have become a magical forest glade surrounding clear, quickly flowing water.

We got back to the car just before a monsoon of rain began - real pouring rain, with thunder and lightning. We need it so desperately! At home, my back yard puddled right up. Now my rain catcher is full to the brim and the cycle begins again.

Well Met

History and modernity passed on the river Saturday morning.

I was a last-minute passenger on a boat tour operated by the St. Johns Riverkeeper, an advocacy group based in Jacksonville. As part of their work they encourage folks to get to know the river, and one of the ways they do that is to sponsor history, ecology and culture tours during the year.

Because my gentleman friend was one of the speakers, I got to go along on one leg of their fall trip. Our large-scale pontoon boat left the dock at 8:30, with a little breeze and a light chop on the water, a clear blue sky, and just a suggestion of coolness in the air.   

The St. Johns has a rich heritage of river travel, beginning with Timucuan canoes and the explorations of John Bartram and his son, William Bartram, around 1765. As the new nation grew, many steamships used the river as a highway to the exotic sights and locations of the Florida frontier. 

Sanford sits the end of what is considered the navigable part of the St. Johns.  After you leave Lake Monroe (which is not a lake at all but a dilation of the river), you need a smaller boat for the rest of your journey. And so Sanford was historically the end of the line for rivership tourists in the late 1800s who came to this "Gateway City to South Florida."  Even President Chester Arthur came and spent a week here in 1883.

All that helps explain why there is a growing excitement about the new eco-tour and dinner cruise boat that was making her way to town last week.  There's just something that feels right about having a paddlewheeler docked at the marina.

I'd been following the Barbara Lee's progress on Facebook, so you can imagine the thrill it was so see her passing under the bridge and into Lake Monroe for the very first time, bright and brave, with the morning sun in her face.

Moving On

Enough house stuff, huh?

I'm a little tired of talking about it, myself.

Time for a street party! My future home town hosts an "Alive After 5" event every month. They close the main street to traffic, while various restaurants, non-profits and businesses set up booths with giveaways and promotional stuff, accompanied by live music and a general festival atmosphere. All the artists who display are clustered on one street, which makes for good shopping. It's all on the banks of the mighty and generous St. Johns river.


Last night was a lovely fallish night, with a slightly cooler temperature and a light breeze. The theme was "Motown karaoke" and we were treated to a heart-pounding version of Tina Turner's "Rollin' on the River" as we strolled between art gallery, restaurant, and blues bar, soaking up the deliciously genuine small-town atmosphere.