Posthumous/Post-Humorous P.S.

Apparently, my run-in with the vultures last month inspired my friend Terry, to bestow upon me the most elaborate of Christmas gifts as follows:

This was accompanied by an ornamental raccoon with red ribbon 'round its neck to further emphasize the gravity of the entire situation.

Vultures in Venice vs Nice Nancy

Driving down Shamrock Road in Venice on my way to have an early dinner with Uncle, I noticed a family in their front yard watching what appeared to be a performance of sorts. There was mom, holstering an infant on her hip, dad in a wife-beater undershirt enjoying a cigarette, two diapered barefoot, bare-chested toddlers squealing with delight, and a tri-colored Papillon yapping its fool head off. Since the speed limit is an agonizing thirty miles per hour on that road, and since there was already rubbernecking ahead, I slowed down to see what the hoopla was all about.

To my amazement, there were no less than three dozen buzzards picking the gizzards out of a raccoon laying somewhat lifelessly in the driveway of this family's next door neighbor.  There were another dozen sitting rooftop waiting swoop their way into the entrails of this poor raccoon.

Now, I'm a city girl and don't know much about vultures except that they live up to their name. I drove by slowly, following the lead of the cars ahead of me and saw the raccoon's tail flip, and its leg, too. That raccoon was alive! I backed up, much to the dismay of both the car behind me and the family watching the spectacle. I rolled down my window and said.."Hey...don't you think we could move that raccoon out of the driveway and spare its little life and maybe even the life of that little dog of yours?"  They looked at me stunned. I had stopped their family evening of entertainment dead in its tracks. And, apparently, I had said something pretty stupid because of the laughter that snidely escaped the mom's mouth. Again, the tail moved on the raccoon and the two foot tall vultures were attacking it with proprietary vengeance while this family just cheered them on ring-side as if watching The World Wrestling Network! 

The dad said.."well, I guess if you want to, go ahead."  So, figuring I'd scare the buzzards away, I'd turn my car into the driveway, run out with a box lid I had in my back seat and scurry off the battered raccoon. As I got closer to the driveway, I noticed the raccoon had already met its maker and its black stripes were colonies of black flies getting in on the vulture's evening snack. I don't know what disgusted me more, the vultures or the family substituting this for an evening episode of Sponge Bob Square Pants. In my haste and horror, I grossly misjudged the turn into the driveway and went full-speed, nose first, and deep, into the culvert. There was no backing out, no going forward, I just sat there spinning my wheels while the vultures kept picking with no fear, while the children cheered them on, and while mom and dad looked at me with  "you idiot, serves you right" grins.

To the dad's credit, he came over and tried to rock, push and pull my car out of its predicament. The mom actually said.."she was stupid enough to get into it, let her get out of it" and went in and shut the door.  I made two phone calls, one to Uncle and one to AAA.  All Uncle said when he showed up was "How the HELL did you do that? You were chasing those damn buzzards weren't you, bird girl?"  AAA basically asked the same thing, but said it was nice of me to try to save the raccoon.  Three people driving by, after witnessing my stupidity, asked if they could help, one offered me her AAA and her boyfriend, and two offered to tow me.  Since my car was half in the culvert and half in the street, and since Uncle didn't pull his SUV all the way over on the road, we caused quite a back up while cars paused to witness the Vulture vs Raccoon vs Car debacle.

Finally, another neighbor came to the rescue with a car jack and a few two-by-fours. He jacked up my car while Uncle shimmed the boards under my front tire and viola, I backed out and backed away from an embarrassing situation. What's more, after I had called AAA, my pocket accidentally called Jayne in Tampa and for 28 minutes she listened to garbled laughter and conversation while I swallowed my pride and tried to make light of the situation.  Apparently she tried yelling, whistling, honking her car horn, calling my name making Bebe bark, all to no avail. I heard nothing, nada, zip.

Here's what I learned: when AAA says 15 minutes, they mean 115 minutes, but they were very nice when I cancelled my service call; vultures are hideous, they only go after dead animals (had I known that, I would have just kept going!!) Uncle says they're doing what they're meant to do, they clean up dead animals;  I need new glasses so I don't misjudge driveways/situations anymore; people are nice, they offer help when you need it (except families who think survival of the fittest via vulture-fest is a good lesson for toddlers and infants); and the next car I buy will have all-wheel drive.

As for dinner, I ordered fish instead of chicken, and we had a good giggle musing over my naivete. I told Uncle he could tell this story at my funeral and he alluded to that fact that this would not be the only story told, for sure. Apparently, I have an army of "she did what?" stories marking my trail like breadcrumbs.

Mother's Day Memoriam

STILL LIFE SYMPHONY

In the womb of my watercolor mind, a portrait of you -

eyes Wedgwood-blue in a peach wing-back chair,

skin buttermilk fair, and hair Shirley Temple curly.

Corn silk soft, your porcelain powdered face

shows no trace of age.

I am mesmerized by your eyes

and the way your cashmere-clad bosom sways

like lulling ocean waves.

Your hands dance to classical music -

The orchestra is Daddy tuning the hi-fi higher

for his hard-of-hearing ears.

I glance at him, chance a wink, and roll my caramel eyes.

You stroke the air -

a butterfly tickled by a breeze.

And in your wheezy voice, you count aloud:

“One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three…”

to the movements of Haydn’s Clock,

sonatas by Bach and Debussy’s Claire de Lune.

You paint music on your air palette -

an invisible baton, your brush.

I sit with the sun at my back,

basking in your love.

Legs crossed on the warm wooden floor,

I’m painting you a still life.

The open door lets

sea-salted breezes through jalousie slats.

I only smell you

wafting sage and Yardley English Lavender.

When you laugh you are sparkling

spring water on my parched lips.

I drink in your music.

In the womb of my watercolor mind,

a still life is there

of an empty wing-back chair

arms embracing thin air,

a dimple in the cushion worn threadbare.

When symphonies fill the air,

your still life comes alive.

Spring 2011's First Tomato & Other Morning Delights

 Our First Tomato of the season. I just hope we get to eat it before the garden critters have their feast.

 Hopefully these tomato plants will fill out. The lettuce is ready for the salad bowl.

 Hard to tell, but there's a spider  amongst the dew drops with her morning fetch - busy as a bee.

 The beginnings of sunflowers, four o'clocks, and mystery seedlings!

Onions, sweet potatoes, assorted herbs, blueberries, asparagus, peppers, lettuces, tomatoes, pole beans, broccoli, cantaloupe and whatever else volunteers, makes our spring garden.

A Little Excursion to Honeymoon Island

We took a short ride to Honeymoon Island last night to catch the sunset and the moon rise.  When we first set foot on the sand, I spotted some dolphins and got overly excited for a woman in her 50s, but, seeing dolphins always makes me feel like a kid again. We walked a bit, collected some shells, and while waiting for the sun to set, I took some shots of a few sandpipers looking for their dinner. The sunset didn't set off many fireworks, but the moon rise (which I didn't catch on film) was really spectacular and caused the same thrill as the dolphins. We finished off our little trip by having some outstanding Thai food and waddled home. 

Granny's WInter Visit

Out of Hibernation

March Morning Cardinal

Spring's bees!

Jillian All Dressed Up

What a character! Here's Jillian wearing one of the hats my sister made for her. How festive!

Four Years of the Dog

Purpose:

be there when they wake up

be there with a wagging tail

be there to warm the bed

be there to snuggle

be there to blend in with the furniture

be there to make them stop and smile

be there to make them laugh out loud

be there to bring the ball

catch the ball

bring the ball, catch the ball, bring the ball, catch the ball, bring the ball
be there when there's cheese within sniffing distance

be there to bark at shadows, squirrels, opossums, dogs on TV

be there to beg pretty

sit pretty

roll over pretty

break-dance

be there always

be there the same

be there when they come home

be there constant as the constellations -   
be their Bebe

Happy 4th Birthday, Bebe!

Felix Sweet Sixteen

old green eyes still wise

silky soft fur ripples, purrs -

blessed cat's nine lives

Earthly Sweetness

Today, I unearthed the last of the summer garden. I smell like oregano, basil, rosemary and tomatoes, all I need is a little cheese and I'd be scrumptious pizza! All the herbs but the ever-growing rosemary have been pulled, and when I removed the thick of the tomato vines I discovered four volunteer corn plants. It won't be long before the squirrels discover them, too! Aside from Bebe, a garden snake, two extraordinarily large lizards, several bees and a few doves kept me company as I uprooted long red earth worms while I tugged, grunted and finally released the last of the summer vegetables. A quarter of the garden is lush with green sweet potato vines which occasionally bloom with morning glory like purple flowers. Today, I mustered up enough courage to dig beneath the roots to see if there were any fruits of my labor. Low and behold, two sweet potatoes! I know there are plenty more, but from the looks of the ones I pulled, I think I'll wait a few more weeks to unearth the remaining 80 or so lurking below the surface.

Gifts from the Left

Our summer vacations went in the same direction but to two different places this year. Jayne headed out to Santa Rosa for job training and I headed out to Phoenix to visit my sister. When we got home, we presented each other with gifts along the same theme!

While in Cave Creek, AZ, I went to the Town Dump and bought Jayne a new sunburst for our backyard fence. We have a small collection started and seem to have a fondness for sunbursts like the ones seen on Sunday Morning.

   While in Sonoma, CA, Jayne bought me  a print by Thomas Patrick from Red Wolf Gallery. Its theme combines two of my favorite things perfectly: coffee and sunflowers. This print is called "Coffee Sunrise".  

So while my gift game from a gallery and her gift came from the town dump, the sentiment was the same:

...you are my sunshine, my only sunshine....

Sistering the Same

It started when I opened the refrigerator at my sister Lynn's  house in Arizona. Had it not been for the double doors, I would have thought it was my own. First, the real butter (and she uses it just like I do, thickly smeared and more so like Paula Dean does). Next, there was the same half and half, and caramel creamer (for her home-brewed coffee every morning, just like I do),  and the thinly sliced bagels. Then, there was a container of feta cheese because it makes everything taste better (even though we both love goat cheese), and the naked glass pitcher of freshly brewed iced-tea just like I make at home. The fridge was organized exactly like mine, and there were lemons, lots of lemons, because she loves lemons, just like her sister!  Was I in Tampa, still? The cheeses were all in one drawer, just like I like, along with deli meats, and paper towels lined the bottom of the drawers.  I know what you're thinking, that you do the same things, but there were many "same things" that brought comfort to my heart that my sister is my sister. Just to name a few, we both eat standing up, we coordinate our clothing similarly, we'd play all day long watering with the hose outside given the chance, we grow herbs, love watching Castle  and Alex Guarmaschelli's cooking show Alex's Day Off,  and reading mysteries. We're both claustrophobic, we both can cook on a dime and clean the kitchen as we go and there's never a dirty spoon or dish in the sink,  and we can clean a house like Bewitched, run 3 loads of laundry and grocery shop all before the sun rises or anyone else for that matter. Just to name a few.

Having spent very little quality time with my sister in decades, except for special occasions like weddings, this was the first time we "hung out" since probably our childhood, where she, seven years my senior, raised me.  Now, here we are adult siblings who live 1300 miles apart and chat via Facebook and Skype. This is what sibling-hood has come to, the Internet. For four glorious days, I basked in the comfort of sisterhood and the discovery of our similarities like long lost twins.

Arizona Trip:  Day 1 - My flight from Tampa to Phoenix was almost three hours delayed. Remind me to never schedule a flight from Florida to anywhere during the rainy season around 5:00 in the afternoon. We sat waiting for the lightning to cease crisscrossing the sky while inching our way onto the tarmac 10 minutes at a time. The woman sitting next to me was making a Japanese Temari ball  which made me want to start cross-stitching again.  Beautiful and intricate, she stitched and cut for hours. I wondered how security let her on the plane with needles and scissors, though.  Once we finally took off, everyone switched to their electronic worlds and even the Temari ball was discarded for an ipod.

By the time I arrived in Phoenix, it was midnight EST and I still had a 45 minute drive to my sister's house via my brother-in-law Ron's 19-year old Lexus (complete with the 12-pound car phone permanently installed in the arm-rest).  As I stepped out of the airport the heat hit me like pizza oven heat when you open the door and hot air reddens your face; very different from Florida heat.  When we finally arrived at my sister's house, I remember my first thought was that my sister is shorter than I remembered. She's a good two inches shorter than I am, and her height immediately reminded me of our Nana who was about 4'10".  While pondering that, five look-alike Pugs pondered my arrival with their big brown/black eyes. Bentley, Sydney (the king and queen), Cassie, Penny, and Pugsley (the rescue and my favorite of all). You'd think five dogs in one house would have been overwhelming, but the only thing overwhelming was their peaceful, loving natures. Bedtime awaited, but not before my sister fed me her delicious coffee cake and tempted me with her tuna salad. When I got to my room, I noticed a basket of fresh towels and soap - Lever 2000, my favorite.

Day 2: My sister's day starts at 4:30 in the morning with hungry pets pestering; funny, so do mine! Once we had coffee, Greek yogurt (which I love, too!) and homemade blueberry jam, we spent the day "big-boxing" down Carefree Highway by starting out at Barnes & Noble (of course), for a little shopping spree and some more coffee. Then, off to World Market for a stroll,  Joanne's Fabrics to find some non-existent book-patterned material for an apron my sister was going to make me,  In and Out Burger for lunch and lastly,  Best Buy for new phones (both Lynn and Ron's phones were the flip type with antennas and were way overdue for an upgrade). We had company for dinner. I grilled chicken and my sister made corn on the cob the way our mother used to, cooked in milk and a little sugar, just wonderful.  Later, we all played a fun game called Kwirkle and retired to our respective computers. At one point, my sister was IMing me about something my brother-in-law did and we were right across the table from each other!

Day 3: Our goal was to see Sedona, and on the way, we took an old dirt road to a place called Arcosanti  http://www.arcosanti.org/  You have to see it to appreciate the utter beauty and uniqueness of this place, and you really need an 18-wheeler to get down the dirt road, not a 19-year old car, but we made it and I'm glad we did. We were too late for breakfast and too early for lunch, but all the food is organically grown on property and served on the honor system. We didn't take the tour, but will next time in cooler weather, but we did go through the chimes gallery and I bought the smallest, most inexpensive one there just for a souvenir. The ride to Sedona was beautiful and my tour guides detailed the changing terrain along the way. We stopped and took pictures of the magnificent mountain formations, walked through the tourist town, lunched, snacked on chocolate (where I discovered my sister loves dark chocolate honey combs just like me!) and browsed the shops.

At an overlook, we spotted a family traveling with dogs and a granny in a nice-sized RV.  Both my sister and I remarked at the same time how we would love to travel the states in an RV and how we've always wanted to buy one. I never knew. I thought I shared that fantasy all to myself.

Somehow, we got talking about the day I was born and my sister always tells my birth story from her 7-year old perspective. I could listen to it again and again. I love when she tells about the day I was born. Here it is in a nutshell. My mother went into labor early in the morning. On the way to the hospital, she asked my dad to stop at Pennsylvania Dutch Donuts on Atlantic Avenue in Atlantic City, because she was craving donuts. They dropped my sister off at my Nana's house and then my mother at the hospital. She gave birth to me sometime between 7am and lunchtime (there's no time on my birth certificate). My sister remembers my father picking her up from Nana's house and taking her street-side outside of the hospital, looking up into the noon sun and waving to my mother in her hospital room. Now I know why I have a passion for donuts!

Dinnertime, and I made one of my signature symmetrical salads loaded with different lettuces, peppers, cheeses and fruit and cashews. Yummy. Friends brought over Maine lobster and we feasted until the snap popped open on my shorts! My sister made tons of great appetizers and mini-desserts. Heaven.

Day 4: We spent this day more local and traveled to Cave Creek www.cavecreek.org which is an eclectic blend of cowboy country living and quaint hometown galleries. We had delicious coffee and visited a place called The Town Dump which I could have spent days rummaging through had it not been close to 100 degrees. We traveled on to see huge boulder formations in Carefree and visited the resort where Ron works and shopped in a fabulous grocery in Scottsdale called AJ's.  We called it an early day and spent the rest of the night at home eating leftovers, and watching television. I love watching my sister dual task. She knits while watching old Bette Davis movies on her DVD player; never taking her eyes off of the screen, fingering the stitches like reading braille all the while. She has a house full of knitted and hand-sewn creations she's whipped up over the years to pass the time: afghans, baby sweaters, Halloween pumpkins, Christmas trees, aprons, hats, slippers, more than I can name. She's a one-woman craft show!

Last Day:  Goodbyes are always hard when you know visits are few and far between.  Every visit with my sister adds to my knowledge of my past. She's always telling me stories I never knew such as the fact that my father had a twin lost in childbirth, or that there was a child miscarried between me and my sister. I guess seven years does make a difference; she has a complete set of different memories from mine that I never experienced.  Of course there are differences between us: she is uniquely gifted with my Nana's genes when it comes to yarn crafts. Our grandmother came right from Italy and knitted her days away. My sister is so talented with needles and hooks, I am amazed. I have none of that talent. She can sew anything and make it beautiful and she can cook anything and make it wildly scrumptious. She is also a history buff. I missed that boat big time, but listening to her zeal for history is impressive. She likes spicy food, I don't.

Our similarities from across the miles amuse me: we're both uniquely sensitive to temperature change, we both drive with the sun visors down on both sides (when allowed), we both set our clocks ahead a few minutes, we both sleep with ice-packs, we both have asthma and allergies (thanks to our mother's genes), we both love our coffee and put cinnamon in it, and both despise the smell and taste of hazelnut,  neither one of us can drive well at night, and we both have sun-sensitive eyes; her eyes are caramel colored, too, only lighter than mine.

So here we are, me in Tampa, Lynn in Phoenix. She's sixty years old and still seems in her 30's to me. I picture ourselves in a big RV one day, both in our 80's traveling down Carefree Highway with our coffee cups and dogs just taking in the scenery on our way to Route 66 for that long awaited trip. She'll be knitting and watching old Bette Davis movies and I'll be tapping away on my blog about me and my sister. Oh..and who will be driving? Ron and Jayne will have to figure that one out!

A June Strawberry Moon

coal sky -

june's moon rides high

behind a cloak of smoke

birds sigh, lakes still, trees breathe under

moon's eye

Sunday Morning

When I awake from peaceful dreams,

and shuffle from my slumber,

I wander through the garden greens,

and praise all nature's wonder.

Do sunflowers sleep at night,

or bow their heads in prayer?

Do dragonflies enhance their flight,

or use petals as their lair?

When I lay down to peaceful dreams,

I never need to wonder.

My garden is as stunning as it seems

in morning as in my slumber.

What Evening Brings in Our Garden

Reflections on a June Morning Walk

Summer -

blue bay's lighthouse;

a Cooper's Hawk watching

wading White Ibis reflections.

Morning.

May's-End Bounty

blush earth's ripened gifts
hidden deep 'neath dewy leaves -
a still-life whence picked