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!