from the porches

listen fast & let the show begin

On May 26, 2010, I locked my classroom door, let out a big sigh, and said good-bye to 46 years of teaching.  I was thankful to lock that classroom door.  My mom had been diagnosed with cancer and my new life was to be her caregiver.  Teaching got in the way; plus, it was my retirement year anyway, so I was more than ready for my new role in life. 

Mom got better.  She is well in remission from her cancer; but 2011 brought my biggest challenge of all.  Truett had a tumor removed from his auditory nerve. . . and you know the rest.  I nearly had a breakdown, but started counseling and am learning how to regain part of my life back.

Today, February 3, 2012 is the day I recaptured my essence.  I was asked to speak to the Fort White Elementary School students about how to pass the Fourth Grade FCAT Writing test.  Here it goes:

You have to listen fast because I am about to tell you a year's worth of everything you need to know to pass FCAT Writing!  Plus, keep your eyes on me because I will teach you some basic sign language along the way!

Okay?  Did you see the sign for okay?  If not, you REALLY need to pay attention!

For forty-five minutes I engaged the students.  They were up.  They were signing.  They were shouting.  They made a human thunderstorm . . . and I wrapped up a year's worth of teaching writing in forty-five minutes. 

I was in seventh heaven as the show continued.

For forty-five minutes I recaptured my essence; and in the end I was light-headed and dizzy with PURE JOY!

Thank you, Fourth Grade teachers for inviting me to speak to your classes.

PS.  Set up that schedule for every Friday. 

Not for the kids. 

For me! 

 

 

the elevator

 

For the past few days I have ridden up and down in many elevators at Shands Hospital.  Today's ride was a tad different.  As I entered the hospital lobby and headed toward the elevator, I couldn't help but notice a thirty-something year-old mother changing her infant's diaper on the couch in the lobby.  It struck me odd because that there were changing tables in the nearby restroom.  So why the couch?

 
 Then I scuttled among two elementary age boys, leaping and breakdancing in the walkway to the elevator, with their three year old sister spinning in circles, squealing.  For a moment, I became afraid an arm or a leg might kick me in the gut or whack me on my arm as I hustled toward the elevator.  But I was quick and avoided any physical contact with these children.

 
 As I continued to the elevator, I heard a bellow, "GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!"  Yes, these delightfully scary children belonged to the diaper-changing mama.  Meanwhile, I pushed the "up" button on the elevator; and in cadence, two "up" elevator doors opened. . . one in front of me; the other behind me. 

And then I hesitated.  (This is one thing that drives Truett crazy . . .my hesitation in normal situations). 

  

So, instead of stepping in the elevator in front of me, I flipped around and walked to the one behind me.  (WHY on God's green earth would I do such a thing?)  I think I thought it would be safer, quieter, less inhabitated.

 
And then, in a matter of moments before the elevator could lift off, I spied five chubby fingers grasp the elevator door to keep it from closingI  WHOOSH! Suddenly, I was surrounded by bodies, and loud ones at that! Three young riveting, loud bodies . . .  and one loud mama!  "GET IN HERE AND DON'T OPEN YOUR MOUTHS!" the mama screeched.  "BE STILL AND STOP JUMPING AROUND!" she bellowed. "FLOOR THREE!".

Well, it didn't take me more than a couple of seconds to push the big "3" button as I cringed closer to the wall so as not to be leapt on or yelled at.  Basically, from that point on, I pretended to be a fly on the wall, or maybe an oppossum playing dead.

 
Luckily, this mother and her unruly children got off at floor #3, about five floors before me.  Then this mama shouted, "GET OFF!  NOW!"  Somehow, she must have scared her own children because the instant the group exited, the eldest (the eight year old boy) hopped on her toe.  "OWEE!"  I heard as the elevator doors closed. 

But between a slice in that closing elevator door, I saw a hand smack the eight year old's face and I heard, "DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN"!  And then the elevator door closed . . . and I exhaled.  

 

when dogs play the piano

 
 
I feel I must show flowers when I write a post about my mother.  She loves pretty flowers.  Yet, this post has nothing to do with flowers.  It has only to do with football! 

During this summer my mother and I watched our favorite TV shows, much to Truett's dismay.  It was always "Judge Judy", "Two and a Half Men", and our favorite TV show, NCIS.  Mother makes no bones about why we watch NCIS.  It's quite simple:  All those cute guys!

Truett has been a good sport about mine and Mom's TV watching; however, recently, he said,  "I don't know what you see in this.  Every week it's the same characters, just a different setting."

"Yeah," I quipped.  "Just like football.  Same characters.  Different setting!" 

Now Mom and I both got a kick out of this and Mama has told all of her friends about this analogy.

 
The last two weeks, however, Truett has flipped his recliner back and slept through most of mine and Mom's shows. 

Now let's talk football. 

Last night Mom and Truett and I watched the Jacksonville Jaguars vs the Atlanta Falcons.  Usually, when Mom watches TV with me she has a tendancy to talk during the show and I most often state, "Can't hear!"  And she hushes. 

But last night, during the first ten minutes of the first football game of the season, this was Mom's running  commentary about the game.

 

Matt - well that's a decent name.

Well, GET HIM!

I wonder if they'd give him a penalty if they pulled that hair.

There he goes . . .right down the middle.

And who are we playing?

Well, at least they're drinking Gator Ade.

(Then a commercial comes on.)

So nice to see little happy kids instead of the little starving ones.

JAGS!  COME ON! RUN!  RUN!  RUN!

Look at him!  He's running in a circle!

Well, he just threw it away!

(Then a commercial comes on that shows a dog playing a piano and a bird singing.)

 
"Okay!  That's it!  When dogs play the piano it's time for me to go to bed!"

And that's exactly what my mother did.  Somehow, football might be really exciting this year as my mom commentaries.  Maybe more thrilling than NCIS!

 

  

kinks

 
Last week was probably one of the most stressful weeks I've had in quite a long time.  I woke up on Monday (a person's normal work week) and was charged up ready to go . . . get it on . . . get it done.  But, there were a few kinks in last week.

 
I have tried to push last week out of my mind because I NEVER again want to deal with the stressors I had last week. 

The first stressor, was getting my yard cat, Molly, spayed.  But you'll have to read my last post to learn about that because that's finished business. 

No.  The first really big stressor of last week was when I lost my debit card.  My credit/debit card.  You see, last Sunday Truett and I shopped in Publix (the infamous stuck-in-the-bathroom with a scooter incident). 

Then, on Monday as I was purchasing medicine at our local drugstore, I realized my debit card was missing.  I freaked out.  "Where is it?"  I snipped.  And then I got a lecture by Truett (who has no responsibility in anything these days about keeping our life in order). 

People, at that moment I was just about ready to deck an invalid because I NEVER lose anything because I am the sole keeper of our lives.

Yet, it seems, I had. 

So Monday I called the Florida Credit Union and canceled my debit card.  That's like losing a pet . . . or a child.  I was beside myself.  CRAZY, if you will.

 
On Tuesday of last week, Truett went to a Lion's Club meeting.  I gave him his ID and some cash and sent him on his way with his friend, Barney. 

Well, on Wednesday of last week I asked Truett,  "Did you give me back your driver's license?

"Yes," he told me. 

But, I couldn't find it.  Once again, I dumped all the contents of my purse out searching for important stuff. 

Lord have mercy on my soul.  I sent up prayers to God.  I meditated.  I was beside myself because I never lose anything.  I can't.  Our lives and Mom's life depends on me keeping organized.

 
In the meantime, I published a book for a friend of mine on Blurb and I had issues with the final publishing of the book.

However, as last week ended, the book was published and I found Truett's driver's license in his short's pocket, and a stranger found my debit card in the Publix parking lot.

Finally, last week's issues were resolved.  At the end of the week, I let out a sigh and muttered, "I Never want to have a week like this again!"

I hate kinks in my life!

 

 

just what the doctor called for

 
 
This morning Truett and I drove to the Santa Fe River at the Hwy. 47 bridge.  We've been running in all directions since the middle of October, and here it is almost Thanksgiving, so we chose to take a leisurely drive.

 
I got out of the car and decided to photograph the pilings, but then I heard a voice, "Mam.  Have you got a dog with you?"

I told the man at the dock I didn't have a dog with me and he replied, "Good...cause I got my dog and he likes to fight other dogs."

 
"Well, no wonder," I thought.  "It's a pit bull with a . . .a spiked collar no less."

 
Then I watched the dog and took about twenty photographs as the pit bull fished.

 

 
 
A couple of other people wandered to the river bank and watched the dog as well.  In the end, all I saw the dog bring out of the water was a clump of grass, a water-logged stick, and an old tin can.

Then we headed across Highway 47 to the other side of the Santa Fe River for a stop at Hollingsworth Bluff.  It looks like I wasn't the only one enjoying the beautiful warm Florida morning.

 
While there, Truett and I saw our friends, Carl and Barbara.  Carl was diagnosed with a form of cancer last year about the same time as Mom, so we chatted about doctor visits, treatments, and caregiving.

 
All in all, our trip to the Santa Fe River was relaxing . . . just what the doctor called for.

the day got better

 
 Today Truett and I had a couple of errands to run in Gainesville and our first stop was Jiffy Lube.  Have you had that pleasure lately?

 
There's only one word to describe a visit to Jiffy Lube:  BORING!  When Truett and I got there, he saw I was taking pictures.  "What ARE you doing?"

"I'm going to blog about how boring this place is," I answered.  So I snapped photos of the boringness of Jiffy Lube.

 
I can tell you now that the Coke machine was the most exciting part of Jiffy Lube.  "Oh, I am soooo bored!" I wailed.

 
So boring I thought these chairs looked interesting. . .just waiting for someone to sit on them.

 
I saw a sign that read Employees Only and I thought there might be photographic potential behind that sign; but the employees stood like soldiers with their arms crossed over their chests watching me, so I slithered around a corner wall.

 
Quickly, I leaped out and snapped a photo of an employee working on our car.  "Hurry up!"  I moaned.  "This is sooo boring!"

Not long afterward, our car was fixed so Truett and I headed over to Truett's doctor's appointment. 

Sooo boring I refused to take any more pictures for the day.

But then the Gods were with me and the day got better. 

I suggested we have lunch and my husband suggested a picnic at Paynes Prairie.

"Picnic in this heat?" I wondered, but a picnic in 95 degree weather had to beat the boring morning at Jiffy Lube and the doctor's office.

 
Truett then suggested we go to Micanopy and have lunch, so we did. 

 
After lunch we decided to take a detour in a stained glass shop. 

Surprise! The day got better.

 
On the front porch of the old house was a real live poker game.  We were asked to join them but I said, "I don't know how. . .but he might," and I pointed to Truett.

Still, the day got better!

 
We ended up back in Gainesville at the Baughman Center on the University of Florida campus.

 

 
 

Would you believe me if I said, "The day got better!"

 
Yes it did!  We took Madeline and Oliver to swim lessons!

 
It was worth it. 

 All the boring stuff we had to do earlier just flittered to the pavement.

 
No more boredom for me.

 
We arrived about twenty minutes earlier which is not a good thing because the grandchildren were obviously bored, plus it was so darn hot!

 
"We're bored!" the grandchildren wailed.

"Don't worry," I told them.  "Your day will get better."

 
And it did!

The whole day got better!

 

 

Cedar Key changes

 
Yesterday Truett and I drove to Cedar Key for lunch.  It was a cool morning and felt like fall, so we were up for a day trip.

 
I found that I became disappointed because Cedar Key is now a biker's retreat. 

 
Motorcycles took up many of the parking spaces.

 
And golf carts.  Tourists renting golf carts to meander around the island took up other ideal parking spaces next to our favorite restaurant.
The pier has changed at Cedar Key for a good reason:  so it doesn't get blown away by  hurricane winds.

 
There were no pelicans or seagulls begging for food on the new concrete and chrome pier.

 
So I had to resort to photographing pelicans and seagulls from afar.

 
Some things at Cedar Key remain the same, thank goodness.

 
Sailboats. . .

 
This old dock house on its last leg. . .

 
Dozens of cats gobbling up fish parts. . .

 
Kayakers . . .

 
and the Seabreeze restaurant. 

We love being on the top deck of the restaurant, but yesterday we were ushered to the lower deck because it was cooler down there.  That was a change we didn't care for because it was the bar area and it had a bar ambience.

 
One good thing that remains the same at Cedar Key is the "heart of palm" salad chocked full of walnuts, fruit and fresh heart of palm, topped off with pistachio ice cream.

All in all, it was a nice day trip.  I just don't like change!

 

leaning building

 
The other day Truett said, "Come on.  I want to show you something near Worthington Springs, Florida. . . and bring your camera."

I wasn't too excited.  After all, it was late Friday afternoon and we already had plans for the evening; but I said, "Okay. But what are you going to show me?"

"An old building propped up by poles." 

 
So we hopped in the car and headed out.  Eventually, we ended up in Union County and took a left down a dirt road. 

Finally,we came across the old building, which looked like a church from the front.  I got out of the car and took a photograph. 

 
He wanted me to walk in the grass around the building to get a closer shot, but I promptly said, "Uh, uh!  I'm not walking in that snakey grass."

So to get a better look at the propped up building, we drove to the other side.

 
Sure enough.  That old building was propped up by poles. 

I think it is an old school house because of the number of windows across the side.

Church?

School?

If you live in Union County and know about this old building, please let me know. 

 

satisfied

Last week I rode with Truett to St. Augustine to assist with the drive home.  Truett has a tendancy to nod off if I don't keep a close eye on him; so I cheerfully went with him.

The crew from our stained glass studio is rebuilding windows for Holy Trinity Parish, and if you know St. Augustine streets, they are very very narrow.

Truett went over to the job site and asked me to stay with the car, which was double parked behind the church.

Drats!

That suggestion irritated me because I had visions of me wandering the cobblestone streets taking photographs of buildings or weirdos.

But on this particular day I hovered near the car with one eye out for cops and the other eye on the lookout for subject matter.

"I know there's a picture somewhere," my mind thought.  "There always is if I'm just patient."

By the way, patience is not my strong suit. 

But I wandered around the car with my camera poised. . .waiting for a picture.

And the pictures were in the shadows.

I even saw a picture in a rain puddle . . .a reflection.

So even though I didn't end up with photographs I thought I'd take, I was satisfied at the end of the day.
 
 
 

angel's diner

After Truett and I left the beach on Saturday morning we drove home by way of Palatka, Florida. 

In the heart of Palatka, and at the foot of the bridge crossing the St. John's River, is Angel's Diner. . .Florida's oldest diner.

When our children were young, the thought of dragging children into the diner, all sandy and irritable after a hot day at the beach, was flat out of the question.  

Therefore, Truett and I never ate at Angel's Diner even though we both wanted to for these past thirty-five years.

 I peeked through the round window in the entrance and pulled open the heavy stainless steel door; and as I did so, I felt a sense of excitement in my heart. 

A flutter. 

 I had ALWAYS wanted to eat at Angel's Diner, and was finally getting my wish.

 
 
 
Angel's Diner opened in 1932 and is a converted railway train car with 1950's decor. 

As I surveyed the diner, I  could almost see teeny boppers in poodle skirts twirling on the stools and young boys with duck-tail hair cuts and Pall Mall cigarettes wrapped in their white tee shirt sleeves rocking to the music blaring from the juke box.

 

I'm sure the patrons of Angel's Diner were suspicious of me as I took many photographs to remember the ambience of an authentic diner. 

But I didn't care.  I could always say, "I'm a tourist and have heard about this diner for years."

Truett was impressed with the sound system.

A Seeburg! 

Obviously, he is older than I am because I've never heard of a Seeburg.

I overheard the man in the white shirt telling the young man next to him that his son's first job was at Angel's Diner. 

Then the young man said, "My grandmother was a waitress here when she was young, and I had my first job here, too."

I thought, "How unique.  Ordinary people caught up in the spirit of the diner.  It's narrow aisles, too-short stools, and smells wafting from the kitchen."

Truett and I ordered a traditional breakfast, and I must say, "It was delicious." 

On the way out, I asked if they had a restroom, and the waitress handed me a key attached to a heavy wooden stick.  "Take that second door and it's at the next entrance."

Okay.  The restroom was tiny.  Almost too tiny for me and my purse, but I had to know what it looked like.  The entrance was certainly inviting.

As we left Angel's Diner, I noticed all the automobile slots were filled with cars, almost like a parking garage; and I wondered if Angel's Diner still has car-hop service.  

 I'm thinking they might. . .at least I want them to.

Florida's oldest diner is a must see for anyone visiting northeast Florida.  

I found one blog that did a fine review of Angel's Diner, just in case you are curious.