Cool, Calm, & Moody...

...my stroll today...not me...well, maybe sometimes...a little.

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Yesterday was October 1st. The first day of my favorite month of the year. I decided one of my mellowing walks was in order, so I grabbed the camera and set out. I've been spending a lot of time down by the marsh, so I decided to head the other way. Back towards Stephen King trail and feral cat territory. I started by skirting the edge of the...can't remember what Glenn calls it. Hang on a sec. (venturing into the living room) He says it's a tidal "crick" ('creek' to the people residing outside of the southern states)...empty when the tides out, and full when the tides in. I have two separate terms for the two states of our "crick". When the tides out, it's the "mud flat". When the tides in, it's the "lagoon". It has that "lagoon" feel. Kind of like on Gilligan's Island. The water takes on an earthy green color. Plus, I just dig that word. Lagoon. Since the tide was out, I skirted the edge of the mud flat.

The reeds are pretty thick and high at the moment. Appropriately on the first day of October, the air was much cooler than the temperatures we had before that ranged in the 90's. A slight breeze was blowing playfully through the leaves and Spanish moss, and rustled faintly through the reeds. We had a couple of days of rather heavy rain a day or two ago, and the ground was still a tad soft. I don't know if I can articulate properly how it was quiet but not quiet. Quiet in the sense that there weren't any sirens or car horns. No helicopters sounding like they were going to land on me. No loud music pumping so loud I felt like I was getting a heart massage from down the street. The sound was...right. Natural. Yeah, I could hear someone talking here and there, or here the dull clang of a pan in someones kitchen, but those sounds weren't dominating everything. They didn't feel like an intrusion. They were just signs of life. Like the rustling of the reeds. The flap of wings as a heron who was hunting for food in the mud became startled and decided to find another spot where there were no disturbances. The giggles and unintelligible calls of children riding their bikes past the front of the nearest building. Sounds, yes, but no cacophonous din assaulting my ears. Just cool, calm, and moody...in an extremely good way.

Walking this route, I came across what I call the "Blair Witch stones". This is the route I took on a previous walk I took last year where I first encountered this strange grouping of rocks. This time was a bit different as there wasn't the same amount of foliage growing around them. It looked as though our grounds crew had done some clearing, so the stones were completely exposed this time. I discovered that they weren't just the odd stones I initially saw that looked like someone had just stuck them there. What I learned this time is that they weren't your average stones. They're grave markers. I was looking at a pet cemetery. "Punkie". "Lil Girl". "Tigger". There were more than half a dozen stones there with pet names and dates chiseled into them. There was one odd stone that didn't match the others. It had a dog bone shaped collar charm glued to it. I didn't examine it closely, so I don't know who was laid to rest there. There was something touching yet creepy about my discovery. I snapped a couple of photos and turned to see I was being watched. A jet black cat sat stone still at the base of a tree next to the mud flat's edge. He didn't seem tense. Didn't coil, ready to dash away as I approached. I made no move to walk up to him. Just kept moving slowly along the top of the bank...about ten feet away. He just watched me. Warily. Was he a relative? Did he have a family member lying at rest among those tiny graves? I decided to talk to him. Just let him know that everything was cool and that I was just passing by. I did decide to take his picture. He flinched a little at the whirring sound the camera makes when I turned it on, but it only lasted a moment. He relaxed again and continued watching me. The first picture I snapped was sans flash. The second was with the flash, and he didn't appear to appreciate that one. He/she shot me a glare and took off toward the building, passing in front of me. I got off one of his departure. They vanished into some bushes.

I had reached the end of the last building before the bit of forest housing Stephen King trail. After snapping the last picture I took of 'Blackie', the camera had let me know the batteries needed to be switched, so I set about doing that. I heard something off to my right. In the reeds. A rustle...then the crunch of small footfalls. Turning my head to scope out what it was, I caught the movement of something relatively small and close to the ground disappearing into the reeds. I could make out the creatures path by the swaying and dancing of the reed tops. The batteries had been refreshed, so I waited with my camera at the ready in hopes of catching whatever it was. Nothing exited the cover of reeds. Then I looked down. Something was moving around at the base of the bank just below a tree root. It was a small fuzzy raccoon. It noticed me about the time I noticed it, and it raised up on it's hind legs regarding me with a wary curiosity. We stood there looking back at one another for a minute. Then I remembered I had a camera with me, and seized the moment. I slowly moved in a bit closer to get a better shot. Surprisingly enough the little masked critter didn't bolt. He was coiled like a spring, ready to bound into the cover of reeds at a moments notice, but he stayed put. Even after I flashed off a pic he stayed still. I thanked him and turned and slowly departed. After a few steps I turned and looked back. He was gone.

The bit of forest that houses Stephen King trail isn't of any impressive size. Just big enough to contain some trails that I feel the need to explore. One day. I did notice during yesterday's walk some signs of a fort on the other side of the mud flat down at the end. (The tidal "crick" is a dead end.) It reminded me of my younger years and how my friend's and I would build forts in the forest. I grew up living in apartment complexes for the most part (in Georgia), so there was always ample forest/trails to escape into/down. We'd get pretty creative with our scavenging and building. Anyway, I saw the signs of that fort and thought they might not want an intruder. I had walked into the trees and down the portion of the trail on this side of the flat before, and it stops at a creek. It appears to continue on the other side, but I had visions of water moccasins or other types of slimy poisonous swamp inhabitants lurking around...made me think better of it. I may get brave one day and take that plunge, but will at least save it for when I have a companion to go with me. As for why I call it "Stephen King" trail, there are two reasons: 1) it's dim and creepy; 2) named it after another dim and creepy trail from my college day's. As I passed the opening to SK trail, I could hear male voices in unintelligible conversation floating out on a breeze. Seems the owner's of the fort were meeting.

Next to the SK trail forest is the land of the feral cat. It mainly consists of a huge area covered by weeds and vines that create a canopy for the wild felines. I've ranted about them before, and know that if I talk about them too much another rant will surface...I'll strive to make this quick. Depending on the time of day, there are either a number of cats hanging around (mainly for the food a couple of old ladies that live here give them...uh oh...prime seed for a rant), or one or two. I would guess that they're 'lookouts'. What are they looking out for? I suspect people and raccoons. On a certain level they seem to have joined forces with the raccoons in the food scavenging department. On a regular basis I would see a whole band of 'coons rooting around in our trash masher with a cat or two standing sentry. Now that the condos have put a new cover on there (I hate it...the door handle has a heavy spring on it, and there isn't any ventilation...every time I open the door to toss my trash in, I get hit in the face with a blast of warm and stinky air), they have no way of getting to the 'goodies'. It appears that this development has prompted the old broads to put out more food, more frequently. I spotted a lot of empty black trays from microwave dinners littering the ground. There were lots of those, but no sign of cats. As I rounded the corner of the cat kingdom, I spotted a furry form. It didn't budge. I was approaching slowly, but the cat still made no sign of moving. I looked a little closer and saw a green eye watching me (seemingly non-plussed) between some blades of grass. I was glad to see that he had a pulse. Finding a lifeless animal would have sucked the enjoyment out of my walk. Then I thought he might be sick, but as soon as that occurred to me he sat up and seemed full enough of energy. So I took his picture and moved on. After that I headed back in the direction of home, and enjoyed the cool evening. Saw some birds flying overhead (herons, and some sort of predatory bird...Glenn said it was probably an eagle), saw several kids on bikes (which made me want to get the bike I have fixed up for riding), and heard the sound of a jazz band in what could have only been a practice session. Couldn't make out which direction the music was coming from. Whatever they were playing it was a bit rough, but they sounded like there was some talent involved.

When I got back home I felt...relaxed, but infused with the energy of autumn. Other fans of the season will know what I mean. It wasn't really a long walk, but I experienced the first day of October on it's natural turf. I do love this time of year...

Guess I'll get to dinner now. Smothered pork chops and potatoes au-gratin.

Back to Music City...

I'll be venturing north to Nashville this coming week. Picking up load two of some furniture and other items from my mother's condo. Initially, we were going to rent a trailer, but decided that we should be able to get everything with Glenn's truck. It'll take some creative packing, but I'm good at that. If there are some stragglers (a few boxes) they'll just have to wait until I go back up for trip three to get the car.

My mom had started giving away some of her things. Gradually. My feeling is that she was gearing up for having to move into a retirement/nursing home of some sort. Because of her Alzheimer's. She said that she wanted to give me her car, so...I'm getting her car. It's a 2000 Audi TT Coupe. Gun metal grey with black leather interior, and silver chrome fixtures. Quite spiffy looking. When I was in Nashville for mom's service, I had an opportunity to drive it. Let's just say that it's not really possible to go for a leisurely drive in the thing. It won't let you. First gear...it wants to 'go'. It flies, and corners magnificently. I just find it interesting that mom bought the thing. I mean, I know why she bought it, but...it just seems like it would be way too much car for her. It is quite manageable for me though. Is it a car I would buy for myself? No. Do I think it's cool, and am I looking forward to having it? Yes. I'm in need of wheels of my own, so I'm very happy to have some on the way. Even if they fly like a bat outta hell. I'll probably have to wait until probate is finished to pick it up, and that's fine with me. Have no inkling of probate procedure, but things like the car and mom's condo have to go through certain procedures. I guess. As I said...no idea about probate procedure. Thanks, mom. I'll take great care of it.

Plan to make the round-trip in about three days. Meaning go up one day; load the truck; drive back the next. Should be completely doable. Not really looking forward to the long drive (about 9 to 10 hours each way), but it really isn't that bad. At least we won't have to worry about dragging a trailer behind us. That would reduce our speed and tack on some more time. I am looking forward to seeing my aunt and uncle again. We'll be crashing at their place. My brother, Mike, and a friend of his will be there, as well. He's renting a trailer and driving down from Maryland. That's a major reason why I'm traveling up for my second trip when I am. Figure it makes the most sense. It'll be good to see Mike, too.

As for the above picture, it has absolutely nothing to do with Nashville. I went for a short walk to the mailbox, and took a detour down by the marsh. Saw a rather large grey heron (at least I think it's a heron...there are a lot of them around here) sitting on top of one of the decaying dock posts I photograph quite a lot.

The Healing Power of Trees...

Today was supposed to be a day where I continued my war on dust and disorder. It's taken quite a bit longer than I would like to get every room in the condo cleaned and pressed, and thus far I haven't seen the light at the end of the tunnel. My thyroid keeps me in a lethargic state for the most part, so I jump on the intermittent periods of energy I do get to knock out some house work. For those who spend a bit of time in your own kitchens, you know the constant battle of the soiled dish. I get things cleaned up and next thing I know they're messy again. It drives me crazy until I get it to the state I want it in again. By the time I'm done, my energy is sapped and the tasks I promised myself I would do that particular day are shoved to the back burner because I'm pooped. There are two rooms I've been wanting to tackle for days (and days) now, but I keep having to pass them over. All I have to say is...argh...

Well, today is Sunday. It was supposed to be spent tackling one of the rooms I keep having to pass over. I was sitting here at the computer checking my e-mail. Glenn was in the living room (where he had been for a few hours at that point) glued to football. Any motivation I thought I was going to muster to get my scheduled job done wasn't...mustering. Heading out for a newspaper run was also on my list, and that's when an alternate day plan came to me. I hadn't gone for one of my drives around the island in awhile, so that's what I decided to do. There are a number of smaller neighborhood streets more central to the island that I hadn't investigated yet. Yeah, that sounded good.

After grabbing a paper and hitting the drive-thru at Mickey-D's for a mocha frappe (my beverage of choice for my drives), I headed to a park I had remembered from previous drives. Had never stopped there before, so the time was ripe. I had made note of it every time I had passed it (which was a bunch by this time) because of the trees. I've always dug trees, and the trees in Savannah are pretty special. Covered with lots of Spanish Moss (which is actually not moss...*see blog entry dated: 5/4/10), and gnarled in a very enchantingly majestic...majestically enchanting...way. (I'm sure you catch my drift...) So I headed around the periphery of the island until I reached my destination.

Whenever I had passed it, I took notice that there were never many (if any) people hanging out. No children climbing on the various jungle gyms or swinging on the swing sets. No picnics being consumed. No teenagers sitting around on picnic tables talking about things they wouldn't even inscribe in their diaries. When I pulled into the dirt lot, there was a group of about a dozen or so people actually consuming food under the roof over the one covered picnic area. Some smaller humans were crawling around on the slides and such. I purposefully pulled to the opposite end of the lot, and turned off the engine. I swapped my sunglasses for my regular ones and looked out the windshield. What a beautiful spot. Huge trees dotted the park, their branches creating an abstract woven canopy overhead that let in enough light to keep things from feeling oppressive. There were quite a few of them, but they were spaced nicely so I could see from one side of the park to the other. However, all around the edge was a jungle of more trees, vines, ferns, and other flora that I couldn't identify. (Note to self: make that trip to the used book store to use some of that trade-in credit to get a book on flora and fauna indigenous to Savannah.) I grab the camera and keys and lock up shop. Time to commune with some nature.



I stepped up to the edging that separated the parking area from the rest of the park. I'm met by an errant breeze that carried the barely audible sound of rustling leaves with it. You know, I don't know what to call the energy of the outdoors here in Savannah, but there is a sense of peace I get. I started snapping pictures of the nearest trees, and slowly made my way around the edge of the park. Don't know how to articulate the feeling of calm that was descending, but it was incredibly noticeable to me. So much so, that it made me pause to consider that.

I've been living with a lot of stress for a long time now. In some ways I've gotten used to it, as sad as that sounds. It has heightened quite a bit in the last number of months, mainly because it's about to be alleviated. That sounds silly, huh? The primary source of my stress is going to be remedied soon, so that makes me even more stressed? Go figure...maybe it's because of the anticipation factor. I dunno.

Aside from the usual stress points, I'm still processing a lot in regards to my mom. It hasn't been a month since she passed, and I still don't...I still haven't...I'm still processing...

That comes off like such a throwaway..."I'm still processing". It's the truth though. Don't know how I feel because I can't. Every time I feel like I'm going to have the emotional release that's probably coming, I stuff it back down. I've let so much go...so much old stuff, but in some ways I feel like I've gone back in time. I'm not allowing myself to express how I feel. To just plain feel how I feel. It wasn't something that ever mattered before. The way I feel. It feels that I've kind of regressed into that place I was in before. I know that things will happen in their own good time. It will take however long it takes for me to 'process' things. A major factor in it is that I wasn't ready for this. Who ever is, right? Since I got the news, my mind has felt like I've been on a speeding merry-go-round. My brain is swirling with...everything. I don't know how long it will take for the merry-go-round to stop, and for my brain to spin into focus. I guess, how ever long it takes.



I needed that park today. I needed that peace. That calm. The trees were there. Beautiful and green. The spirit healing whispers of their leaves and branches drifting lazily on the breath of the day. It was warm, but not unbearably. We had some rain yesterday, so the brown pine needles and leaves covering the ground were spongy under my feet. Every now and again I would hear the rustling of a forest critter moving around. As I continued around the park's edge, I came across the occasional mesh seated park bench. Looking across to the other side I could see picnic tables and posted grills positioned here and there. None of the aforementioned appeared to be maintained regularly. Not to say that things were in great disrepair. It just didn't seem that many people came there. For me, it just added to the mood of the place. It also meant that this newly discovered mental refuge wasn't frequented by a lot of people. That's okay. Obviously, not many people knew of the magic of this place.



I'm going to plug in here that I did have a slight hiccup to my time at the park. I got off a couple of shots and the camera started to beep at me...the memory card was full. Had meant to purge what was on there before I got started, but...ended up going home. My excursion felt a tad anticlimactic, so I changed my shoes, spritzed on some OFF (the mosquitoes here really suck...no pun intended...okay, maybe a little), and headed back. My return trip is pretty much where this entry starts. Moving right along...

In a way, time seemed to stand still while I was quietly soaking in the serenity. For the first time in...I can't say, my mind was open. Free. Quiet. By the time I left that park, I felt more centered than I have in quite awhile. In a way, I think I received some subconscious answers to questions I didn't consciously ask, and in ways I can't explain. Was it subliminal messages in the whisperings of the trees? The rhythms of Mother Earth transmitted up through roots and out through leaf and branch? Or was it just information that's been floating around in the recesses of my mind that found it's way out of the dark?

Before I get too deep...or seriously metaphysical...I'm going to end by saying that I did really need that visit to the park today. Whatever my mental transition was and whatever it was that influenced the change, I feel so much better.

They're BAAAAaaaaaaaack......

It's been roughly four months since my last sighting. This vehicle was a tad smaller than the last, and the confederate bikinis were now displayed on a single plastic torso instead of the two headless manikin bodies strapped to the front grill of the last truck. Not as many versions of the 'Stars & Bars' could be displayed, so it didn't have quite the same grandeur that the last display had. Still, they had a couple of 'winners'...one with Hank Williams, Jr's mug in the middle (I couldn't make out the writing encircling his head...expect it's something that would make any redneck proud); another with the word "REDNECK" scrawled across it...well, just take a gander at the picture. They're all there for you to see for yourself. Can't be sure, but that looks like a big fish on one...giving a redneck nod to bass fishermen everywhere. I, of course, didn't get close enough to view all of the wares they were selling. After all, I was the chick creeping around in a truck snapping pictures...maybe they'd think I was competition? Don't think they'd act too kindly if they felt someone might be trying to horn in on their business. In addition to the prominently displayed bikinis and flags, I'm pretty sure they would have a variety of shirts, lighters, and belt buckles. Items for the discerning redneck. Gotta love the south...

I expect they'll be back again since the gift giving holidays are just around the corner. Maybe next time I'll venture over for a peek...and some close-up shots...

North to Nashville...

It had been a loooooong time since I had ventured north to Nashville, TN. The last time was to visit my grandparents, so it was...the mid-80's. Man! It HAS been a long time. I wish the circumstances that took me there had been different. I addressed that in the previous entry. Better get to my trip observations before I get back into 'can't write mode'...

The point 'B' to our journey was my uncle Butch and aunt Dollie's house in Hendersonville. Just a hop and a skip from Nashville. Glenn and I were looking at eight or nine hours of road time. I didn't really find it daunting. It had been so long since I had been on a lengthy road trip that I was kind of looking forward to it. I find that kind of travel meditative at times, so I was looking forward to some mental diversion therapy. I ended up driving for a considerable chunk. It helped my mental state quite a bit.

As we headed to Macon (after that it would be Atlanta), we passed the exit(s) for Georgia Southern Col...University. I know it's a University and has been for awhile now, but it was a "college" when I went there. Anyway, I made a mental note about paying a visit there to have a look around. See how it's changed. I'm sure I'll have to brace myself before I tune into the radio station. When Glenn and I were DJ's in the early to mid-80's, WVGS's station ID's said, "You're listening to your Progressive alternative...WVGS, Statesboro". 'Progressive and Alternative' we were. You could hear anything and everything on there. Everything from hard core punk to jazz to rockabilly to new wave to classical to urban contemporary to...well, you get my point. We were one of the top rated college stations in those days. I feel a huge 'wax on' moment settling in, so I'll contain myself and shelve it for another entry. Moving right along...

One of the first things I noticed when we entered Highway 16 was the speed limit. The last lengthy road trip I had taken was in the days of the 60 mph limit. Wasn't surprised that it was now 70. Was quite happy about it actually. The speed limit is now 70, so of course I went 80.

The trip as a whole was smooth sailing. We ran into a couple of minor hold-ups. Back-up of some trucks at a weigh station, and a short stretch of shoulder construction. Traffic was moderate to light the whole way. I did have some flashbacks here and there. Landmarks that I recognized from years past...both nature created and man made. Chattanooga looked pretty much identical to how I remember it. No new stretches of highway. The same old billboards urging you to visit Lookout Mountain and See Rock City. Signs letting you know that the Chattanooga Choo Choo Hotel was off the next exit. We had a family meet-up there once years ago. Ate in their restaurant and had a look around. Don't know what it's like now, but back then it was really cool. They had some hotel rooms that were in actual train cars. Nifty. The next flash from memory lane was when we went through MontEagle. It's at the top of a small mountain. When I was young and we would make the trip to visit my grandparents, we would usually stop to grab a bite o' lunch at the MontEagle diner. The old antique/swap meet was still there, too. We were traveling on Tuesday, so the tumbleweeds were blowing through. It would be jumping over the weekend. After MontEagle, the fireworks stores started to make themselves known. Fireworks are legal in Tennessee. You can buy just about anything...M-80's, bottle rockets, etc. No. They dangled the carrot, but we didn't bite. Talked about it for a minute or two, but decided that there wasn't anything we needed to be buying. Maybe next trip...hehe...

We saw a lot of trees, fields, and passed by the Tennessee river. It's really beautiful up there. We passed the exit for the Jack Daniels Distillery in Lynchburg. You would've thought that at some point I would have made it there to the tour, but as of yet I haven't. It was discussed after we had arrived at my aunt and uncle's, but it didn't pan out. The thing I find funny about the JD Distillery is that it's in a dry county. One of the (if not THE) most famous whiskey makers is in a county you can't buy their product in. Hah!

Not long after that we entered Nashville and made our way to Hendersonville. Observed areas hit by the flooding as we went. I was very bummed to learn that Opryland is no longer around. The hotel is, but the theme park is historical. There's a big shopping mall there now. I had visited Opryland a number of times when I was young. Was a fun place. The new Opry house was adjoining the park (believe it's still there), so you could see well known country singers perform there as part of your admission to the park. I remember seeing a performance by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton.

Once at my aunt and uncle's, things kind of felt surreal. The elements of the trip regarding the reason for the trip. Those aside, it was good to see Butch and Dollie, and it was really good to see my brother. Hadn't seen him in quite awhile. The last time I saw him was a number of years ago when I visited him and his family for Christmas. I can't recall just how long, but I'm thinking around seven years (?). My nephew Karl made the trip with him. Karl is about twice as tall as the last time I saw him. I'm pretty sure that over the course of our time at Butch and Dollie's, I re-earned my title as 'Crazy Aunt Lisa'. Well earned it is.

A couple of days were spent at my mother's condo with my brother, Mike, divvying up items from her estate. I used the word "surreal" previously, but this just felt plain weird. One of those moments that you know is happening, but you can't believe it is. Anyway, this past Friday boxes were filled and loaded into the back of Glenn's truck for the journey home. We do have another trip to make in a few weeks...most likely when my brother makes his trip down for the things he's taking. (Mike and Karl flew, so they obviously couldn't have taken anything with them this time around.) Saturday morning, Glenn and I tied everything down with a tarp Butch gave us. There was rain in the forecast, so I wanted to put something over the end of a rug we had sticking out of the back. The only plastic bag we could find (we had forgotten the box of garbage bags at the condo the day before) was the big plastic packaging you get bulk toilet paper in. So that's what I taped to the protruding end. It was noticed, quite unanimously, that we had definitely achieved 'Redneck' with that.



(Glenn e-mailed the above photo to his brother who was quick to point out that it wasn't truly 'redneck' because the toilet paper bag said 'Northern' on it. Nit picker!)

Rain started to fall before we were out of Nashville. Nothing heavy. At least, not until we neared the exit for the first of the two distilleries (there is a Dickson (?) distillery in addition to the JD one - think they produce whiskey, too). It got a bit heavier and about the time we reached the exit to JD the bottom fell out. To say it was coming down hard...it was the variety of hard driving rain when you can hardly make out the lines in the road, and don't realize there's another car nearby until you're practically grazing their bumper. It had been years since I had driven in rain like that, but I do know how to handle a vehicle in the rain. We're in desperate need of new wipers on the truck (keep forgetting to replace them...), but they did the job. Thankfully, since we kept moving forward, the rain never made it into the truck bed. Everything was bone dry when we got home. Eventually, we made it ahead of the rain. There was a discussion about another motorist we had passed during the thick of the storm. Someone had pulled over to the side of the road to wait things out. I can understand them doing that if they felt uncomfortable driving in that downpour, but once the rain slacked off and they got back on the road they were just going to hit it again. Oh well. We got far enough ahead for the rain to stop and had gotten to MontEagle where we stopped for a pit stop. There was talk of getting something to eat, but the clouds over the mountain were darkening fast and the wind was whipping furiously around, kicking flotsam into the air. We decided to put more distance behind us, so back on the road we went. Waited until we were south of Chattanooga, and the storm had made it's way off in another direction.

As we exited Tennessee and entered back into Georgia, a major feature of the highway shoulders became more prevalent. The evil vine known as Kudzu.



Anybody who has visited the south has seen it. Enveloping roadside hills, and enshrouding trees and bushes. It has an evil rep in these here parts. (I plan to make a separate entry that talks about this insidious viney plant...for any interested parties.) Through this stretch Glenn was behind the wheel, so I spent some time trying to snap some photos of the massive vine growths. A chunk of that time was also spent cursing the drivers of vehicles big enough to block a number of my Kudzu photographing opportunities. Once we got to Atlanta, I spent quite a bit of the time reading the various exit signs and having retro moments of remembering the various street names, areas mentioned that I had either been through-visited-lived in (I grew up in Atlanta). It wasn't riveting, but it was a form of entertainment.



We skirted Atlanta via the 285 a.k.a. 'The Perimeter'. Headed through Macon. Passed Dublin, Vidalia, Statesboro, etc., blah blah, woof woof. It was getting late by the time we neared Savannah. A distant storm was brewing. Shafts of lightning angled down here and there. At first I was hoping that we'd hit some more rain, but then Glenn pointed out the fact that we needed to unload the truck when we got home...if it was raining, that would really suck. The clouds persisted out there in the dark of night, and the shards of burning light still continued to knife down here and there, but the rain stayed away and we were able to get the contents of the truck bed inside without getting drenched. Safe and dry. The rain wouldn't come until Sunday. It rained most of the day, and I engaged in my usual pseudo-sleep...caught an ineffective nap in the afternoon. It paired nicely with the previous nights few hours of ineffective "sleep". It's good to be home, but...well...still processing...

Geneva Jo Blazek

My mother passed away on Saturday, August 14th, 2010. She was 74. I still don't think it has fully hit me yet. Still processing. It was not too long ago (3 years or so?) that she was diagnosed with Alzheimers. She had not been feeling right and on the 14th my aunt and uncle found her disoriented on her bedroom floor. She had had a heart attack. In the Emergency Room they detected her dangerously low blood pressure and high heart rate (it appeared to be working over-time to compensate), and worked to get both a bit more stable. By the time visiting hours were over and my aunt and uncle headed home, the news was that she had improved. Not long after they left, the call came that my mom had passed. That fast. The service was Thursday morning. A very small gathering of family graveside. My mom was cremated and buried at the foot of her father's plot. She rests with her parents. Just as she had wanted.

Glenn and I got back to Savannah late this past Saturday night. I intended to make this entry Sunday afternoon/evening, but each time I made my approach to the computer I hit a mental wall. Not sure what to say. My brain is so muddled with...everything...and nothing. It had been roughly fifteen years since I had seen my mom. There were reasons, but they don't matter anymore. It's all history, and history is...well, history. We had started communicating again just a few years ago. Mostly via the postal service. Lately, I had been gearing up to possibly visit her. Over these last few years I had addressed a question a number of times...how would I feel if mom passed away and I had not seen her again? Well, I feel a lot of things. Everything happens for a reason. For whatever reason. I guess all I can say is I'll feel whatever I feel when I feel it...however long it takes.

Mom was an extremely talented artist. She had work in a couple of galleries and had pieces in a few art shows over the years. The potential was definitely there for her to get some serious notice. Oil paints on canvas was her primary medium, and her work was abstract. I'm really happy that I have a couple of her pieces. One I got when I was in Tennessee for the service. She also had a great sense of humor, and was fast with a quip. Anyone who knew her would second that. She was a sharp gal. Quite hip for her age, and very artsy. On a side note: My brother, nephew, and I had a good laugh when we got in mom's car to drive back over to my aunt and uncle's house. Her car is an Audi TT (a really zippy/sporty number), and as we were heading down the road my brother switched on the radio. The car filled with hip hop music. My nephew Karl said, "Grandma Jeep!", and burst into laughter. We all had a good laugh on that. My 74 year old mother driving down the road in that flashy little car with hip hop music pounding away. What an image.

My first visit to her condo was...I want to say weird. It felt weird. Entering her home when she was no longer there. I discovered immediately that I was wrong. She was there. She was in every nook and cranny. Every direction I looked I saw things from the past. From years past. From the time before our extended blackout period (so to speak). Various pieces of furniture. A number of pieces of art she had purchased from artists that she had gotten to know over the years. Many I knew, as well. At times it was difficult. I can't properly articulate just how it was difficult, just like I can't properly articulate the myriad of feelings I'm still trying to sift through now. I'm glad that there were several family members and Glenn with me that first trip to the condo. It helped a lot.

I can't imagine what it must have been like for her to face the future with Alzheimers. In the letters and notes she sent me I could tell of it's effects. Trying to come terms with the fact that eventually you'd pretty much forget who everyone was, where you were...probably even who you are. While in the ER on the 14th she insisted on signing a DNR. No heroic measures. I understand her reasons. As I said, I can't imagine what she must have felt about her future. Someone said that maybe it was a blessing that she passed on now, before she really started to lose her faculties. I suppose. I know she's in a better place. I so hope that she's happy.

The Tide Was High...

The tide got rather high around here this evening. It was a completely different visual experience seeing the marshes submerged like that. As much as I enjoy going for my walks and seeing the wide expanse of green, I kind of wish this level of water was at more of a constant. I had a few pangs of jealousy watching the small boats putting along here and there. A couple of teenage boys in kayaks paddled up our little 'creek' in the back and then back out again. It just looked like such a meditative activity, and I felt myself relax just watching them. Our next door neighbor has a small motor boat he keeps at the bank back here...he'll go out for rides when the tide is in. When I was over by the marsh and the wider expanse looking out at all of that water, he and his brother motored casually by...both of them sitting comfortably back puffing away on a smoke. Wish I could've been out there putting around with them. At some point in the future, I might have to investigate acquiring some sort of small vessel for our amusement. For occasions such as this.

This just in: Glenn said I might want to add the reason why our tide here was abnormally high. Off-shore winds blowing inland made the tide over a foot higher than predicted. Apparently, there's a big storm off shore.

I wonder what the hurricane season is going to be like this year? I know that when the catastrophic events in the gulf were in full swing, the reports were lamenting the fact that the Gulf Coast was supposed to be in for a pretty heavy season. Since I'm not trained in such things, I have no idea of what definite factors effect the trajectory of a hurricane. Savannah does get hit with some heavy storms when a hurricane passes by, but it never gets thrashed by the hurricane proper. Glenn grew up here and said that a hurricane has never hit Savannah. It has seen some heavy storms and flooding, but thankfully it hasn't been hit by an actual 'hurricane'. It would really suck if they said we all had to evacuate. Glenn has mentioned the usual evacuation plan, and it really sucks. There is basically one road out of here that everyone would have to take. We'll probably just stay put if that happens. By the time it was all over, we would probably be sitting in traffic two feet ahead of where we had started. Anyhoo...

Weather is such an unpredictable thing, even though the weather folk would like to think differently. Maybe there will be more offshore winds that will cause the tide to be abnormally high again tomorrow? I can only hope...

Feral Frustrations...

As a cat person I can understand some people wanting to tend to feral cats. That being said, it really irritates me when I see people doing it. We have quite the feral cat problem, and it is supposed to be even worse on Tybee Island. In the condos here they live mostly in the vicinity of our dumpster...big surprise there. I've seen a variety of felines hanging out in the grass. I've even posted photos of one of them I named Vinnie...a big lop-eared tabby who seems to be the king of the colony. When I've been out on walks, I've noticed a collection of black plastic microwave dishes from frozen dinners near the entrance to one of the cat-doms...a huge tent-like area of leafy vines. Have also seen two particular older women lurking around there. They pull their car up to the curb, pop the trunk, and haul out the edibles for the wild hoard. For a split second I'll have a flash of understanding, but once that passes I'm just pissed. Here's why...

Humans are the reason there are feral cats running around. Mostly because of abandonment, and house cats that aren't spayed/neutered being allowed out of doors. What these well meaning (I do understand that my elderly neighbors think they're doing a good deed) individuals don't seem to be grasping is these are not petty-pet-pet cats. The cats come relatively close to them because they see a source of food, not because they want to cuddle. House cats (the ones we raise as pets) pretty much remain in the kitten state. Feral cats are full blown wild animals that form colonies and hunt. Feeding them causes the overpopulation that a lot of places see nowadays. An overpopulation of unhealthy, flea ridden, mangey animals. These are not cats that get a yearly check-up, so they carry all kinds of diseases. I did some reading and Cat Scratch Fever and rabies are the two main diseases, but they also play host to parasite and fecal matter diseases. Not only does this endanger the pet felines roaming around, it can effect humans, as well. Feral cats also out-compete local wildlife via their hunting and killing, which can impact ecosystems. These are all reasons why feeding the feral cats around here is against the law.

Why am I writing about this? The catalyst for my little rant is something I discovered on one of my recent leisurely drives.

While driving down a small road behind some buildings, I came across this little cat hostile. It basically is a small roofed structure that contains kitty 'gym equipment' and several big dishes of cat kibble. The sign isn't really readable in the two pictures I took, but it basically says that the structure has been put there by a non-profit group called the 'Islands feral cat project'. It's unclear as to exactly how they achieve the sites main function...it says it's part of the 'Trap-Neuter-Release' program. I've heard about this approach to trying to solve the feral cat issues. To me it just sounds like they're slapping a band-aid on a huge festering wound. One that's being created by people who, out of the goodness of their hearts, are perpetuating a big problem. I say to the 'cat feeders', instead of adding to a growing problem that is already a bit out of control, give your love and attention to a shelter cat. One that is a viable pet candidate and needs a loving home. We have enough of a problem with there being to many homeless pets. Stop adding to a problem that is just bad every way you look at it. Bad for us, bad for the cats, bad for nature...just bad!

Our next-door neighbor, Anthony, submitted a business plan/proposal to the condo powers that be about building a new dock for the residents of the condos to use. It's in the permits process at the moment (these things always take time), but it's all looking good and chances are a new dock will be going up. (It'll go where the current dock carcass is...the one I've taken and posted a number of pictures of.) We are one of several condos that use the same entrance, and if this dock plan does happen we will be getting our own private gated entrance. According to the plans, the new entrance will cut through this side of the community dumpster (all of the condos use the one dumpster/compactor). This side of the dumpster, and right through feral cat central. One day awhile ago I was walking out in front of the building and saw Anthony. Asked him how things were going with the dock, and I threw in something about the cats and the women here who feed them. There had been a meeting about the proposal and residents were urged to show up and voice any questions and/or concerns. Had the feral cat caretakers shown up to complain? Anthony said, no. I did learn that the gals had been told by law enforcement to cease and desist with the cat feeding, but they obviously have ignored the warnings. Well...if and when the dock plans go into effect and construction begins, I'll be curious to see if anyone raises a stink.

As I said before, I dig cats. I understand what the women's reasons most likely are for doing what they deem to be a good deed. That being said, they need to look at the big picture here. They're making a really bad situation worse. I hate to say it, but if fining them (or whatever the laws state) is the only way to deter them then so be it. There are just too many healthy, loving kitty's that need good homes. That's where their energies should be focused.

Looking Around...

You would think in the amount of time I have lived over here in this beautiful place called Savannah, I would've seen more of it. Walks in the immediate area have been plentiful...my blog entries and the accompanying photos are testament to that. However, most areas of the island have been unexplored by the likes of me. Until lately, that is.

It all started not too long ago when I talked Glenn into going for a Sunday drive. Some who read this may have seen the accompanying video I posted on Facebook using pictures I snapped during the outing. It was really nice. Situated where we are on the Atlantic Coast, there are so many opportunities to see marshland, water, docks, boats, etc. The cloud formations here aren't too shabby either. I can't think of many days where photo opportunities haven't presented themselves. It is just so beautiful here. And magical. The elements of many of my photos may be the same, but the photos themselves are not. They have their own individual scene and mood. The drive with Glenn was a catalyst. I've started going on more frequent drives. Checking out sections of our island. Discovering things I hadn't seen before. My drives aren't very long (the island isn't that big) and Glenn opts to sit them out most times, but they've been exciting in their way. And relaxing.

The majority of this portion of Savannah is homes. Neighborhoods. Not necessarily rural, but there aren't a lot of businesses. Houses and condos mostly. Today (Thursday) was a drive of about 45 minutes. Sans Glenn. I took the above photo on a small neighborhood street in an area that supposedly claims Ms. Paula Deene (msp?) as a resident. I mostly watched her show on the Food Network in the early days of its' airing, and some of the houses fit. Could be hers'. At some point her show was moved to a studio setting...apparently a number of her neighbors complained. Don't know if it was due to lookie-loos, or production staff, but...there ya go. Was hoping to see others snapping pictures of what would be her house, but no such luck. Think that's what the neighbors wanted. Not to have a bunch of rubber necking fans bogging down their streets.


I love my little drives. With each one I feel more in tune with life here. Today I took some recycling to the local dump, grabbed a paper, a mocha Frappe from Mickey-D's (yum!) and set off on my leisurely adventure. After hitting the neighborhood that supposedly called Paula Deene a denizen, I headed to another subdivision I had passed a number of times, but hadn't explored. There are a couple of small lakes (believe they're man-made) with fountains by the main entrance, so I photographed one (above). Nice neighborhood. It's pleasantly strange, but for the number of neighborhoods around here they're all unique in their way. Don't think I can really even articulate how they're different, they just...are. This is one of those cases of 'you'd have to see them to get what I mean'. This was followed by a couple more subdivisions. Lots of nice houses. The newer of the places I checked out had kind of a cookie cutter thing going on, which I don't really like, but it had lots of docks since most homes were on marshy water. The last area I checked out before heading home was by far my favorite. If I was in the market for a house, this is where I would be looking.

I was thinking about heading home when I got back to the main road that would lead me there. I noticed a smaller road directly across from me. It trailed off into a darker area. The moss covered trees were a bit denser, which made it appear moodier and more mysterious. Didn't take me long to decide to hop across the road and check this narrower lane out. I glanced at the sign as I pulled onto the street. Whipporwill Road. By the name alone I knew I was going to like it back there. As I slowly advanced up the road, the trees hung tightly to the sides. I could see evidence of a house peering through the branches here and there. The driveways interchanged between paved and gravel, and most wound off into the forest and disappeared. I was really digging it. Yes, it was a bit darker here, but not in a bad way. I mentioned back at the beginning of this entry about how magical Savannah feels. Well, that's exactly how this area felt to me. Magical. Didn't feel forboding or oppressive like some might think. About two-thirds of the way up the road, another branched off to the left, and some houses appeared. They weren't what I thought. All were a couple of stories high and were beautiful. They definitely didn't look cheap. But, none of the waterfront property here is cheap, and being on an island most homes are on water. I continued up the road and could make out the end ahead. It was a dead end. As I got closer, I noticed it lightened up a bit and all I could see were the colors of deep blue and deep green. I was approaching water. Open water. As I neared the spot and the view got bigger, it was water as far as the eye could see. I stopped at the end of the road and looked out at the beautiful scene. At home we do get water at high tides in the 'creek' out back (I've posted a lot of high tide pictures here on my blog and on Facebook), but we're on a bluff. What I was looking at here at the end of Whipporwill road was a different story. The land here is about water level. If I walked up to the water's edge, I could seemingly go from solid ground to the wet surface. It was just breathtaking. I so wanted to get out of the truck and take several pictures, but there was a house right next to me and I didn't feel comfortable getting out for a photo op since I was solo. I kind of felt like I would be intruding. So I stayed in the truck and snapped off this one photo before leaving:

I plan to return to the spot in the future and when Glenn is with me. I would love to get a few more photos of the incredible view.

So, I made my way home, feeling relaxed and more in tune with things. Looking forward to my next adventure...

That Fiddler Is A Crab...

Well, it has taken me a considerable amount of time to get back to my blog. Can't say that I've been negligent...my sleep has been off as usual, so it throws everything else off as a result.

It's become rather clear to me that to maintain my personal semblance of sanity, I need to venture out of doors each day for a stroll and some picture taking. We've been getting our usual daily 30-40% chance of thunderstorms report, but out of the last week's worth of said reports we've only had one afternoon/evening of rain. It got rather torrential, too. Perfection. Every day we do get our share of full and billowy thunderhead clouds, accompanied by the rumblings of thunder. I see it as the Savannah sky toying with me...promising me something that it's most likely not going to deliver on. These empty promises usually appear in the mid-afternoon and carry through the evening hours. Don't get me wrong...I'd much rather have the slices of promise than nothing. I've developed quite an interest...change that...a fondness for the clouds here on the Georgia coast. Practically on a daily basis I'm entertained with some of the most abstractly spectacular cloud displays. Various shades of white, gray, and blue to blue-gray. The thunderhead clouds (the ones that could indicate an impending storm) are the most enjoyable to watch. Sections seem to explode slowly out in stark round edged puffs...you can actually see the movements happening. The various hued clouds pass over and behind one another giving such eerie dimension and depth. They are like strokes within an animated painting. I've been photographing them a lot lately. There is something so inspiring there.

Day before yesterday I went out for a quick walk around the homestead here. It was in the neighborhood of 6:00 or 7:00pm. I headed down to the cul de sac down by the marshes and water...I often start my strolls there. Per usual, I had the camera with me. I feel like I've been slightly redundant with the photos I've been posting in the last number of weeks (both here and on Facebook), snapping photos in the same places. I always seem to find something new though. Something that I just hadn't noticed on previous visits, or something that is making it's presence newly known. This particular walk was no exception.

Once at the cul de sac, I wandered it's edge looking for things to photograph. Exploring. As I wandered around the curve I came around to the weathered carcass of dock remains that have appeared in quite a few of my photos. I love that spot. Think I've caught it in quite a few of it's moods. This time was to be different. There is a dip down a small bank to the muddy marsh floor around the decaying posts that once held up the dock. I could hear the faint sound of...well, scurrying. That's the best description I can give. But, the scurrying of a lot of 'things'. Slowly, I walked over to the bank and surveyed the mud. That's when I saw what looked like several hundred little creatures running around the marsh bed. They were small crabs. Fiddler crabs. The number and movement of them made the mud seem to undulate. As I watched them zipping around the brown surface of the mud (they were actually kind of hard to spot as they blended in), I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye. I quickly looked to my right and saw several of the small crabs weaving their way through the leaves and twigs covering the ground beneath and around my feet. I snapped shots of a few of them before they disappeared into the blanket of leaves pushing up against a small section of chain-link fence that skirted the top of the bank. Then I noticed a couple scurrying from patch of grass to patch of grass. They looked kind of comical flitting along in their sideways motion. I noticed that one of them had paused...or froze, not really sure which description is best. The chance to get a close-up of one had presented itself. As I lowered the lens of the camera in close, he seemed to freak out a little and took a few sideways steps in the direction of the leaves. Didn't want to hurt the little guy. I noticed a dry, brown, long and sinewy leaf/frond from a palm of some sort. I grabbed it and used it as kind of a gentle prod coaxing him over into a more advantages spot for a photo. Managed to get a couple before he clearly showed that he was ready to disappear with his buddies. Thanked him as he made his escape, and I looked to the wide open space of the marshes.

It was fairly gray...the usual time of possible thunder and rain was in full swing, so the calming effect was definitely there. I find such peace at those times. There are no real sounds of 'man' here...no cars, no sirens, no helicopters. Here my ears are not assaulted by noise. I hear the rhythms of nature. Could say that it's so quiet here, which it is compared to where I lived for 18 or so years (L.A.), but if you listen...really listen...you can hear the things that man has muted by 'progress' (i.e. cities). I had walked over toward the marshes and was standing by a couple of trees. I saw something small and dark zip around the tree at about my eye level. I walked around the tree and saw scurrying around to the opposite side another crab. Tried to snap a photo of the little guy, but he was too busy playing cat and mouse with me. Got a couple, but they're not worth sharing. Back to the marsh. With the graying sky came a strong and welcome breeze. It has been extremely hot here, and the humidity drives the heat index through the roof. Lately it's been in the 110+ range. The breeze was very welcome. The sound of the leaves and branches of the trees stirring around joined the faint whistle of it. The cat tails edging the marsh were bowing and dancing, as well. The cooling of the breeze made the moist layer covering me (due to the humidity) not quite as annoying. A slow walk along the marshes with the calm ethereal caressing of the breeze was wonderful, and just what I needed. My daily fix. The best medicine.

I made it halfway to the pond, but it was starting to get dark. My time for picture taking was drawing to a close. I really want to get a camera suited to night time photography at some point in the not too distant future. So, my walk drew to a close. Home for something to eat before settling down in front of the tube.

Another Hot One...

It's a warm, sunny morning here in Savannah. The passing of the night was spent wide awake, and surfing the net. If it wasn't for the Internet, I'd have spent the night surfing the TV channels longing for something other than an infomercial. Oh well...another day has dawned, so moving right along...

Since I'm always looking for a reason to take pictures, I decided to walk over to the marshes and see what the sun was up to. It hadn't been up for long. It was quite beautiful ~ big and orange with some interesting clouds around it. I never get tired of photographing the local scenery. It truly is beautiful no matter the time of day or the weather.

Saw the doctor on Monday. Was the usual check-up...took a lot of blood this time. Checking my thyroid, and this time he's getting my cholesterol checked. He said it was "a little high" the last time I saw him, but then he added that since I have thyroid issues that can cause some weird numbers...whatever he means. I'm concerned that he's gearing up to tell me to quit my PTU (thyroid meds) again. He had me quit them a few months back and I had some issues...my thyroid enlarged a little, and I didn't feel 'right'. So I went back to the clinic, ended up seeing a Nurse Practitioner, and started a small dose until I saw the doc a few weeks later. The first time I tried to convey to him just how trepidatious I was about stopping my meds...being in the hospital because of a thyroid storm that almost killed me has a little to do with that (cough, cough). If he tells me this time (as he did last time) that my thyroid looks good, so lets stop the PTU ~ I'm going to bring up the fact that my thyroid might look good BECAUSE I'M ON the PTU. Pffffttt...I dunno...we'll see...

I've decided to not pursue my idea for an online writing project. I've done some looking around at various free hosting sites, and info on blog sites...nothing is safe enough. Not to my liking anyway. The Internet isn't governed by much, and the idea of someone pilfering my work is not okay with me. Oh well, I'll just redirect that energy into my book. That's where it should go anyway. I need to focus all my creative energy on one project. Avoid feeling mentally fragmented.

Crap...one of my ocular migraines is starting up. I'm going to have to wrap this entry up. Have more to prattle about, but it'll have to be for later. I'm having a lot of these damn headaches lately...sigh...

Coffee Talk...

It's a hair shy of 5:00am. Strong pot of Joe piping hot in the kitchen, and some face time with the computer monitor. With sleep being at a low right now (well, at night anyway), I've been endeavoring to occupy my mind with...well, things that'll occupy my mind. There would probably be a bit more television in the mix, if early-EARLY morning TV didn't suck. I've never jumped on the infomercial train, so that's out. As much as I enjoy 'Roseanne' and 'The Nanny' (yeah, I'm not afraid to admit it...I've chuckled at 'The Nanny'), I've seen all of the episodes more times than I can count. Mainly because they've been the main viewing fair in the wee hours for quite awhile now. I do sometimes flip over to BBC America's news (since ours stinks), but for the most part I hop on the computer to pass my time. There is more interactivity, and I can update myself on the news stories I'm interested in. Catch up on NPR pieces I may have missed.

On a personal level, things are good for the most part. I really love it here in Savannah. Yeah, the heat and humidity can really kick a gal square in the patootie, but it's part of living in the South. I'm not smack-dab in the middle of the action here like I was in West Hollywood (I was about to type 'WeHo', but that term has always been nails on a chalkboard to me). There everything and anything was in walking distance. I did do a lot of daily walking there, but my physical ailments weren't in full swing yet. Whenever I'm feeling up to it, I do get out for little constitutionals here and there. Enjoy nature and snap some photos. I've learned that the humidity levels greatly effect my joints...my arthritis. The time I really notice a physical reaction is when we're gearing up for a storm. Glenn has a pain reaction to the pressure created by stormy weather, and it appears that I experience that, too. It would figure that one of the things I love most in the world (rainstorms) causes me extreme joint stiffness and pain. I do have pain and stiffness all the time. Frequently it gets so bad I can hardly stand it. I deal with it as best I can (pain meds and time mostly). Some things in life just are what they are...kind of have to accept it and move along.

There are a couple of areas where my life is in a state of flux. It's been a major source of stress, exacerbated by a couple of outside forces. But I'm coping best I can. It's all pretty much over and things are going to pick back up. It's just the last little bit of living on tenterhooks that's gnawing at me at the moment. Living where I do, not having my own mode of transportation, no jobs to be had in my immediate vicinity. Just...stressful. But, as I said, it's all about to change. Finally. Woo-hoo!

I've been crafting a story for an idea I have. Something that poses potential difficulties. The Internet is a vast arena. It holds a lot of creative opportunity. My idea is to write an ongoing...online novel, if you will. Post a new chapter each week. I've read other peoples material online. Written works, comics, etc. I've got all of my basics together in terms of what the story is to be about, etc. The one thing I'm concerned about is 'material theft'. My first thought when the idea hit me, was that I would just start another blog here on Blogger that would be specifically for my writing. Seemed the easiest path. Me being me, I 'Googled' "original written material and Internet security". Not surprisingly, original material theft is a very commonplace problem. Plagiarists doing the old 'copy & paste' deal, and signing their name to it. I'm not an egoist when it comes to my writing, but the idea of some unknown person copying my material for their own personal use (or gain, for that matter) makes my skin crawl. There are some small things one can do from a basic legal standpoint (a widget to attach your name, etc. to your material, so if anyone does steal it your info will stay glued to the bottom). There were a few other minor steps, but it all left me feeling disappointed. I really want to do this. From an entertainment perspective (I'd really enjoy it...and hope readers would enjoy it), but mostly from a creative one. It would also be an excellent motivational tool. Basically, I'm finding myself beating my head on the wall of uncertainty. How the hell do I pull this idea off, and in a relatively secure way? Don't get me wrong. If someone is going to try and rip you off, they're going to do it. I just want to set up a site that I can post my work to, knowing that I've done as much as I can to protect it. Some web sites you visit have a sign-in page. Things are laid out to you. You have to agree to certain terms before clicking an "accept" button. Something like that would be ideal. I'd be comfortable with that. Here's the difficult part: I'm pretty computer savvy, but there's a lot about HTML design that escapes me. I have figured out coding for certain things and have been able to Frankenstein my way through it, but the realm of web site design is an overwhelming one for me. Another element is I need to set something up that won't cost me anything. I also 'Googled' free web hosting...found some sites, but quickly became lost. Yeah, the sites I investigated have layouts you can use, but none of them fit my bill. The formats were all wrong. If I could find something that is more of a simple set-up like my Blogger page where I can plug stuff in if I need to, and that will allow me to add on a sign-in of some sort...well, I'd be in Fat City. If anyone reading this has any thoughts or recommendations on where I can go to set my little project in motion, well lay it on me!

Just heard my 'Dawn Alarm'. Don't know what kind of bird it is, but whenever I hear it sing I know that the gradual introduction of sun will be starting up soon. (Just grabbed the last of the hot coffee...To brew, or NOT to brew~that is the question...) Can see the faint ghost of the moss covered trees out back. For awhile now, I've been wanting to go out for photos around this time. Love taking moody pictures. The moodier, the better. Hmmmmm....maybe tomorrow...

Think I'll go check out BBC America. Catch a little news. Maybe get some perspective from their side of this BP nightmare. Anybody that sees my postings on their Facebook newsfeeds knows this is a subject I've been watching closely. NPR has reported that Britons have been having harsh words about the US, saying that we're being mean to them...worded like that it comes across a tad juvenile, but the fallout from catastophes like this one usually is. Haven't watched BBC News in awhile. Could be interesting.

My Two Favorite Dads...

Just wanted to give a quick shout out for my dad, Jerry Patrick Brown, and my brother, Michael Blazek Brown. Happy Fathers day to both of you, and to all of the other dad's out there.

Now for a few photos from my meager archives...thought I'd share a few photos of my two favorite dads...some of which I may hear about...lol...

Lights, Camera, Taters...

Today it happened. I've been in Savannah for a bit now, and have officially had my first Paula Deen encounter. Well, indirectly...

I popped out to grab a newspaper for Glenn, and decided to hit the Circle K next to the produce stand I go to. Taking the back way, I noticed that there were more cars than usual parked haphazardly along the side of the mini-mart. The design of the parking spaces in front can be tricky at the best of times (the spaces are too close to where the gas pumps are, so it's difficult to nose a vehicle the size of the truck into a space if anyone is pumping gas), so I hooked a right at the corner and headed around the front to the other entrance in front of the produce stand. As I turned the corner I realized that there wasn't going to be a hassle free entrance at all. After a quick reassessment, I decided to brave the situation since I was already there.

Davis Produce was buzzing with the manic energy of a film crew. A large glare screen was across the parking spaces in front, various light stands stood here and there, a tent with various articles of film equipment and most likely producers stood off on the side by the do-it-yourself car wash, production crew were hustling around like the little worker bees they are, and I proceeded to have a few flashbacks. Having worked in the entertainment industry for a number of years...heck, having lived in L.A. for a number of years, this scene is one I'm all too familiar with. Wasn't sure what sort of production was happening, but it did look like Davis was open for business. After a few minutes of playing dodge-em cars, I angled into a parking space and approached the chaos.

As I said, the situation was one I'm very familiar with. I walked up to the area where the employees were and asked for the few things I wanted...red potatoes, green beans, and lemons. While the nice girl behind the counter bagged my stuff up, I scoped out the activity in back. Couldn't see a whole lot. Just a crowd of crew facing into the fenced in area in back where they have the plants for sale. I asked the girl what they were shooting, and she said something for Paula Deen. Bazinga! I perked up a little jazzed about the prospect of my first Paula Deen sighting. (In retrospect, with my reaction you would've thought I was going to see Bigfoot or something...lol) She then quickly corrected herself...it wasn't PAULA Deen, it was one of her sons. At that moment, a member of the production staff came over and asked us to be really quiet because they were about to start shooting. I had just paid for my stuff, so I stood there to observe.

The 'son' being filmed was Jamie Deen. I think he might be the older brother. Well, he's the taller one anyway. He came strolling down the center of the stand carrying a young boy, who I believe was his son. Jamie recited his scripted lines, grabbed the prop veggies he needed to grab, and interacted with his son who obviously wasn't 'into' the whole thing. The director yelled cut, Jamie put his son down, and proceeded to say how he "fu...screwed up his lines". Hehehe...

I've been trying to get in the habit of taking the camera with me when I go out because I never know when there might be a photo op of some kind. Well, guess what? I didn't have the camera with me. So I came home, grabbed the camera, and went back by. The picture I was able to snap (the one above) did get the aftermath of the actual shoot...there was still some equipment up, but the fat lady had obviously sung. The breakdown was in full swing.

Let me just say that it's not because I'm a huge fan of Paula Deen that I want to see her in person. It's so the next time someone I know asks me if I've seen her I can say, "Yes...yes, I have."

Waves of Emotion...

Yesterday was a day of high emotion for a lot of people. A hearing took place to find out what happened to cause the botched Gulf well, what is being done to seal the botched Gulf well, and what provisions are being made to help the victims of the gout's of oil billowing out of the botched Gulf well. This is pass number three at this blog entry. Thoughts of the Q&A with BP's CEO have been hanging towards the front of my gray cells since it took place, and the slightest touch on those thoughts sparks the embers of a rant. I don't want this entry to be a rant. This entry is about the above photo.

The photo is from a few months ago. A short trip over to the Tybee Island beach. I see the images on TV and the Internet that show a virtually vacant coastline marred by the murky streaks and large gummy masses of unrefined oil making its way onto the land along the Gulf coast. It made me think of my coastline. Where I live here in Savannah is right on the Atlantic. This morning while channel surfing for something at least marginally watchable, I remembered the pictures I had taken on our coast. So I came in here and opened the file containing my Tybee pictures. This photo stood out. The white froth of the waves lapping onto the sand. Even now when I gaze at it I can hear the relaxing roar of the waves. I can see the gulls, wings outstretched as they ride the thermals, calling out to each other in that melancholy seagull way. The coolness of the winds in deep contrast to the heat of the sun. A smell of salt spray hanging in the air. Then I thought of something greatly lacking in the Gulf coast images. People. Children building sandcastles and racing the waves up the sand. Moms reading trashy novels under broad brimmed sunhats. The colorful dots of beach umbrellas here and there. Teenagers throwing Frisbees back and forth or tossing around a football. None of that. Life as the inhabitants of the Gulf Coast know it has changed. For the foreseeable future. That doesn't just make me angry, it makes me sad.

I tried to Google a trajectory for the oil spill. Mainly, how it's advancing on the Florida panhandle. I have some great memories of a vacation I took when I was in the seventh grade. A good friend of mines mom invited me to go to Fort Walton Beach with them. The moms boyfriend owned a condo right on the beach. It was beautiful there. The sand was so white...they called it Sugar Beach, as I remember. I imagine that the oil spill will tarnish its sands just like the other beaches it has reached.

I look at my coast and I try to imagine what it would be like to have happen here what is happening for my neighbors...and I can't. I mean, I can imagine that it's a horrific thing to witness and be affected by.


But it's probably a lot worse...

New Moon...New Day...

By the clock, it's about ten minutes and change to the official time for June, 2010's, New Moon. It's a Gemini moon. Makes sense. I've been experiencing a duality in my emotions and decision making processes lately that speaks to the twin energies. Today is off to a mellow start, so maybe this often maddening trend is on the way out. I hope.

Just got back from a walk. Had another sleepless night. This time Glen was up for most of it. Said he wasn't very sleepy and didn't know why. Think I'm at least partly responsible. Power of suggestion. It was in the neighborhood of 5:00am when I looked out the back windows and saw the misty gray outside. There was just the slightest hint of the dawn creeping in. I was immediately hit with the desire to take a walk before the serious burgeoning of the suns' rays began. The 'sleepies' had finally claimed Glen, so he was gearing up to hit the sack while I transitioned from jammies to jeans. Tied my shoes, grabbed some fresh batteries from the fridge (this little camera really drains the juice outta those double-A's...I've made the mistake of leaving the house without a back-up pair before), and headed out. I moved as quickly as I could, but still didn't make it out the door before it had started to really lighten up. Oh well...better luck next time.

I started off by heading down to the marsh bank. One of my regular paths. I was in the process of enjoying the morning view, got off a couple of shots, and then the air assault began. Rather aggressively, mosquitoes started dive bombing me. Looking at my arm now, I can see raised areas on my skin where the little devils got me. And, of course, one nailed me right in the middle of my forehead. After a minute or two of this, I decided to head back up to the asphalt of the condos to see if that would get rid of my attackers. For the most part it did.

It was so quiet out there. Since it was early, I didn't see anybody. Not one person. Very nice. I mean, I do like people...there are just some times when it's nice to go on a solo adventure and enjoy it without even the most minor of interruptions. Snapped a few more pictures as I headed down pond way. Wanted to check out the happenings there. See if any of the wild birds that inhabit the marshes were hanging out. As I came from between the buildings on the ponds edge, I saw one dark gray, long legged bird...a heron maybe. That was it. Not even the ducks were around. (I've gradually been able to get a little closer to the ducks each time I see them. Not that I go over there every day, but I guess I frequent the area there enough that they don't see me as a threat of any kind.) The heron was watching the water pretty intently. It did appear that there might be bird vittles below the surface. Signs of life popped up and spread in the form of growing, circular ripples. Like when a raindrop hits a pool, but in the reverse...if that makes sense. I watched for a minute to see if I could tell what was under there...fish, turtles...but didn't see anything. Then I noticed the rising sun. A bright, burning ball of orange on the horizon. Absolutely beautiful. Breath taking even. Definite photo op. I snapped off quite a few. Think I got some neat ones.

Seemed like time to head back to home base, so I left the pond and circled around the buildings. As I turned a corner in the drive I spotted a couple of my feathered buddies. Two Mallards pecking away at someones license plate on the front of their beamer. I snapped off a few pics of them, and they humored me. After the ducks, I encountered a feline I hadn't seen before. He was obviously not of the feral variety, but was still not into the idea of saying 'hello'. He just stood there looking back over his shoulder in a 'you talkin' to me?' manner. Took his picture anyway...think he might be another cyborg cat...shiny eyes...

So, I came home to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, with my clothes feeling a hair heavier and holding the slightest hint of dampness from the humidity. Haven't looked at the weather for today yet, but I expect it'll get toasty. We've had "a 30 -50% chance of thunderstorms" in the daily forecasts for a few weeks now. I'm constantly crossing my fingers. Some days it pays off. Others, not so much. Oh, the sky does rumble quite a bit some days, but no rain. I really can't complain though. I get my rain quota filled far better here than I ever did in Los Angeles. I did check today's forecast last night and it said we've got a 50% chance day today. Knock wood.

Guess I'll have another cup of Joe before I prep myself for a grocery store run. Glen is out of quiche, so I need to get more eggs. I make so many quiches, I'm sure I can make them in my sleep. Glen's breakfast of choice.

Well, the new moon time has passed. Time to...enjoy the rest of my day. Moving right along...

I Love A Rainy Night....

Well, I love a rainy night
I love a rainy night
I love to hear the thunder
Watch the lightning
When it lights up the sky
You know it makes me feel good

Well, I love a rainy night
It's such a beautiful sight
I love to feel the rain
On my face
Taste the rain on my lips
In the moonlight shadow

Showers washed
All my cares away
I wake up to a sunny day
'Cos I love a rainy night
Yeah, I love a rainy night
Well, I love a rainy night
Well, I love a rainy night

Ooh-ooh

I love a rainy night
I love a rainy night
I love to hear the thunder
Watch the lightning
When it lights up the sky
You know it makes me feel good

Well, I love a rainy night
It's such a beautiful sight
I love to feel the rain
On my face
To taste the rain on my lips
In the moonlight shadows

Puts a song
In this heart of mine
Puts a smile on my face every time

'Cos I love a rainy night
Yeah, I love a rainy night
Ooh, I love a rainy night
Yeah, I love a rainy night

Ooh-ooh

Showers washed
All my cares away
I wake up to a sunny day
'Cos I love a rainy night
Yeah, I love a rainy night
Well, I love a rainy night
I love a rainy night
Well, I love a rainy night
You can see it in my eyes
Yeah, I love a rainy night
Well, it makes me high
Ooh, I love a rainy night
You know I do, yeah, yeah
I love a rainy night

I love a rainy night
You can see it in my eyes.



...yep...that about covers it. Thanks for this one, Mr. Rabbitt.

Moody...

Memorial Day has definitely been that. As is evident by the above picture, the weather has been a bit moody today. We had a couple of sprinklings of rain, but no cloud busters. On that count it was disappointing. The gray atmosphere out there wasn't though. I dig that.

Before I get to what I consider to be a beautiful day weather wise, I was feeling 'off'. Not under the weather, or wonky...over reactionary. I know I'm only 45, but I've suspected for about the last year that I've been gradually entering into my 'change'. I haven't gotten the official diagnosis from a doctor, but my hormones are telling me it's underway. There were a couple of instances today that are prime examples of what I'm talking about. The first was a burst of anger. I was really mad all of a sudden. Everything was pissing me off and I didn't know why. I was washing dishes and was mad at the dishes. Silly things like that. It started to subside a bit, but I decided to go out for a walk along one of my usual routes to try to unwind the rest of the way. Taking pictures is one of my most effective stress relievers. So I grab my tennis shoes and some socks, grab the camera, get some fresh batteries out of the fridge, and balancing all of it in my arms I head for the living room. I'm just about to leave the kitchen when I sense the collection of things I'm carrying go off balance. I'm fumbling trying to keep a grasp on everything and BAM! the camera falls to the floor. The tile kitchen floor. I'm freaking out. I quickly pick it up and race into the living room in a panic. The batteries in it are dead, so new ones have to be loaded before we can find out if it's working. Glenn handles it because, as I said, I'm freaking out. It turns on, but the zoom doesn't work. I feel myself entering into the realm of a nervous breakdown over this. What?! What the hell is going on? I even say to Glenn that I feel like I'm about to lose it and I have no idea why. It wasn't like me. At all. Sure, it was absolutely upsetting that the camera might be broken, but I didn't need to pop a blood vessel. Glenn and i fiddled with it a bit and found that the zoom switch would work if you used a certain touch with it. Suspect it only needs a small adjustment. This had me feeling a bit better. Since the camera was functional I decided to still head out for my walk. Decompression was a must.

The entire day had been overcast in varying degrees. I ventured up to the Kroger to get a few things around 4:00 and I wouldn't say the sky was angry, but slightly peeved. By the time I came out the sprinkling had begun. As evening approached the dim gray of inclement weather swirled closer. It was on the verge of dusk by the time I left for my walk. The clouds over the marshes were thick and swirling. A lot of beautiful patterns and textures happening that were made more interesting by various levels of light pushing through. I snapped a number of cloud pictures. The truly angry and brooding pictures came as it got darker. As the decreasing light and increasing clouds cast the trees into silhouette. It was all so relaxing and inspiring. It definitely sparked the creative corners of my brain. For awhile I've been toying with the idea of starting an online writing project. Create another blog and post new chapters to a story each week. There are some pictures from a few previous walks and some from this walk that have spawned different ideas that all kind of relate to one another. It's feeling like they're all starting to coalesce. At this point I'm still just toying with the idea though.

Geez, it's 4:01 in the A.M. Hopefully I'll conk out for a bit sometime soon. This up all night deal really blows...