from the porches

let it rain

After a couple of very dry, hot, humid weeks we finally got a deluge of rain early this morning and until after noon.  If it weren't for the thunder rumbling, I think I may have just sprinted outdoors and let it pour down on me.  I haven't been using my rainsticks to bring on the rain.  We've all just prayed for rain.  Then we got smart and did the one sure thing that will bring the rains on.

Just think about it.  What do people do, and and then right afterwards, it rains? 

Think. 

Think. 

Think.

We got the car washed two days ago.  Bingo!  It worked and we got rain.  While we were at the car wash I saw this pathetic looking palm tree.

      

Actually, it reminded me of some creature on a video game or some alilen landing on Earth.  But it's way too late to save this poor tree.

This is supposed to be what a healthy palm tree looks like.

      

So that's about the most exciting thing happening around here.  Now at 3:30 in the afternoon, it's like a sauna out there.

cooling off

I celebrated my birthday yesterday with Truett.  First, with a yummy pancake breakfast, followed by a swim in our pool that is sparkling clean.

We then decided to go to a movie.  We chose The Proposal.  It was the perfect movie for us.  Very, very funny.

After the movie it was too early to eat dinner so we drove around the countryside.  The outside temperatures read 98 degrees.  Boy, was it hot out there.  Everything living was staying in the shade.

       

These ducks were not in the pond.  They were just cooling off under a tree.

      

                                 Cows were cooling off in a pond.

      

                                   I didn't know cows were that smart.

Check out the horns on this next cow.  Looks like it's got a "summer cut" on its horns.

      

One thing is for certain.  At 4:00 in the afternoon, nothing was stirring.

not totally incompetent

My day certainly didn't unfold as expected.  Recently I bought note cards to print some of my photographs on.  I have hopes of actually hand writing notes to friends and family inside the cards.  But oh no!  This task didn't seem to be an easy one for me at all; and the reason being: this HP Photosmart C8180 copier.

You know once before we had a lower grade model of an HP Photosmart copier and I could never get that thing to print.  So we bought a Big Brother copier after months of frustration.  By golly, we couldn't even get that thing to print photographs.  After that we upgraded to this HP Photosmart C8180.  Once again it would not print photographs.  Finally Truett bought a new cord and BINGO!  Photographs darted out of the Photosmart C8180 like frog's tongues lapping up flies.  In hindsight we call this our million dollar copier.  Just thinking about all that money we spent trying to get photographs copied embarrasses me when all we needed was a new power cord.  I felt really incompetent. 

But that was then and today is now.  This morning I printed a couple of note cards with a couple of my flower photos on them. But they were upside down on the card.  It didn't take but two times of looking at these upside down images for me to realize all I had to do was flip the image upside down in My Pictures to get them printed correctly on the card.  Okay.  So I'm just a little incompetent.

Then I got the bright idea that I would use 4X6 glossy photograph paper to print on and possibly glue the photographs onto the cards.  And that's when my frustration peaked.  The copier's fangs or whatever it is, would not grab onto the 4X6 paper.  Time and again I tried.  Then Truett tried.  At least an hour had gone by and we had followed all the directions in the book; but this HP Photosmart C8180 just would not print on the 4X6 paper.  "It's not me!"  I cried.  "I followed all the directions!  I'm not totally incompetent!"  I screamed.

Well, I connected to the HP website and went into the "help" chat room and had a forty minute e-mail dialogue with a woman named Shree  Patel.  I've learned in the past with HP that I can understand written emails much easier than I can understand Indian/American accents.  It was just taking too long so I finally wrote, "I'm closing this dialogue" and clicked out of all programs and stomped to the office to work. The whole blasted morning was shot!

So now I'm back to printing up-side down photos on note cards that will eventually spit out of my Photosmart C8180 right-side up.

      

Am I totally incompetent or just a little bit?  Isn't the printer just a teensy weensy bit at fault here?

thumbs up..thumbs down

Got a hair cut. . . . . . Thumbs up!

Worked in studio putting away files. . . . .   Thumbs up!

Lawn mower cannot be fixed. . . . . . Thumbs down!

Bought a new one. . . . . . Thumbs up!

Our wide screened TV won't work. . . . . . Thumbs down!

We had a five year warranty and this is the fourth year. . . . . Thumbs up!

TV won't be fixed until next week. . . .Thumbs down!

Saved thousands of dollars by not running out and buying a new TV. . .thumbs up!

Heat and humidity. . .thumbs down!

All the gardens and plants are lush. . . . .thumbs up!

 

Now how about some pretty pictures.

      

       

      

If your thumb is down, find a way to lift it up.

 

good-byes

This afternoon I picked my mother up to go to dinner before her trip to Tennessee for a week.  One of the chores she had to do was take her miniature pincer to the boarding hotel for dogs, the Bed & Biscuit Inn.  I volunteered to help her out with that chore.

    

While Mom was hustling Dash inside I looked around at the grounds.

      

Beautiful cone flowers were grouped together next to the fence.

      

Then I saw a sunflower hanging its head toward the ground in the stifling heat.

      

A couple of horses grazed in the pasture next to the Bed & Biscuit Inn.

      

Mom and I had intentions of driving to Gainesville for dinner; but the threat of an afternoon storm changed our minds, so we stayed in High Springs and said our good-byes.

For being almost 86 years old, my mother knows how to travel.  From the minute she parks her car at the airport in Gainesville and until she arrives safely in Nashville, she will be pampered by flight attendants and other airport personnel who will wheel her in a wheelchair through the dreaded Atlanta airport, making sure all her connections are made.  I don't know how she does it at her age, but I'm happy Mom is still able to travel.

st. augustine-part 2

Yesterday morning I took a few more shots of St. Augustine.

      

Here we have one way to tour St. Augustine.  I would hear the drivers giving their spiel and then their own opinions about what the tourists were looking at.  The opinion parts would drive me bonkers.  I would like to go back at night and ride one of these trams on the Ghost Tour.

      

Windows always fascinate me.  I wonder if anyone is behind the curtain watching me watching them.

      

I like the balconies in the older houses.

      

I love the cobblestone streets, especially on St. George Street.

      

We drove across the Bridge of Lions and looked at the marsh and sailboats. 

      

And of course, St. Augustine wouldn't be the same if it didn't have shops galore.  But I'm afraid it was too hot to wander these streets and shop.

st. augustine

Today was one of those mini-vacation days I write about.  You know.  The ones where Truett has business and I just ride along to keep him company and look for things to photograph.  These one day mini-vacations are almost better than week long ones.  I get to sleep in my own bed with my head on my own pillow when we return.  Today's trip was to St. Augustine, our nation's oldest city.

      

While Truett went inside Trinity Parish Church, I wandered across the street to take photographs. 

                     

I sat on the park benches and looked around, and the only thing that caught my eye was the architecture of the buildings.

                            

      

                                                   Hello bird.

I became intrigued with shapes, angles, and empty spaces in the buildings centered around the park.

      

I get nervous in a city sitting on a park bench by myself, so out of one eye I looked for interesting things, and out of the other, I watched the morning people strolling toward me with juice and bagels in their hands. 

      

                      

                                                Hello bird.

                     

My bank in Fort White certainly doesn't look like this bank.

      

By now I'm getting very bored because I haven't seen any creatures, so I decided to photograph parts of the bank.

      

      

Also by now the temperatures outside were approaching 98 degrees with high humidity and I'm sweating and clutching my camera, my purse and my cell phone.  So I decided to stroll through the park myself.  I was camouflaging myself to look like a tourist.

      

Hmmmm.  A shadow.  Snap!

      

Ah ha!  A cannon.  Click!

                   

Another church. . . 

       

Thank goodness the tourism office had public restrooms.  I strolled in and headed for the facilities.

      

And strolled out through coquina walls onto the coquina sidewalk.

                     

Interesting legs to this water fountain. 

Then my heart took a leap.  A living thing to photograph.  Snap!

      

Finally, Truett returned from his meeting and we headed toward Barnacle Bills for lunch.

       

Past the Castillo de San Marcos and on our way to an oyster and fish lunch. . .almost the best part of the day. 

      

  

3 fathers

      

When I think of fathers who have made an impact on my life, I first think of my dad, George E. Sanford.  My dad's message to his children was be happy but don't hurt anyone along the way.  He was an artist, a poet, a writer, a teacher, and a preacher of the Methodist faith.   Dad passed away five years ago, but his memories remain.

The second influential fatherI've known is Truett George, Jr., my husband and the father of my children.

       

Truett is a stained glass artist and craftsman, a wood worker, a business man, and a politician.  But most of all, he is the father of my two children and a wonderful grandfather.  Truett has provided me with excitement and adventure for 38 years of our married life.  Happy Father's Day, Truett.

        

And the third father who has had an impact in my life is Sam Markham.  He is my daughter's husband and father of our grandchildren, Maddie and Oliver.   He is easy going and generous. Sam is an endodontics dentist and an avid Gator fan.  Go Gators and Happy Father's Day, Sam. You're a great father.

oleander horrors

      

When I was cutting back roses yesterday I took a good look at the rest of the flowers.  My eyes settled on the oleander and I remembered horror stories about this plant.

When the gardener from ACE Hardware was planting our flowers I asked her what the pretty pink one was beside her.  She told me it was oleander.  I remember blurting,  "But that's poisonous."  The gardener had not heard oleander horror stories; but maybe that's because she moved here from  out west somewhere.

      

Here's one story.

When Truett and I lived in Savannah we would head to Savannah Beach and see the median filled with beautiful oleander bushes.  I wanted us to pull off the road so I could pick a bouquet to take back home, but we never did.  Soon after we asked the locals about the pretty pink bushes and were told the first oleander horror story.

It seems a couple of college girls were headed to Savannah Beach, picked some oleander and put it in their motel room.  Both girls were found dead the next morning. 

Our next oleander horror story came when we moved to Fort White in 1973.  One day the original owners of our old house stopped by on the way to Lake City to visit their mama's grave. As we chatted with them and they with us, they told the story of their sister who died from oleander fumes the day she turned six years old.

It seems the mother had pruned her oleander bushes and thrown the limbs in a burn pile.  All the family stood around and watched the sticks burst into flame; but that night the little girl got sick and died.. . from poisonous oleander fumes.

      

This afternoon I checked on snopes.com and read another story about boyscouts roasting weenies and marshmallows on oleander sticks.  They all died in their sleep.  Other stories were mentioned if you're so inclined to read them.  Snopes can't say for certain these stories didn't happen, only that they were reported. 

Now back to my garden.  We allowed one (1) oleander plant to be planted and vowed never to let the children linger around this deadly plant.  Or us either for that matter.  And if the oleander plant dies from cold weather or frost, we will not burn it.  No we will don face masks, grind it into a fine pulp, and bag it up to be hauled to a landfill.

busy as a bee

I have been as busy as a bee, but no one could tell.

1.  Floors cleaned (but not by me, thank goodness)

2.  Moved, copied, and deleted photos from the past three years

3.  Made DVDs and thumbnail prints of my photo folders, filed them in a binder for future use (maybe)

4.  Weeded through catalogs, mail, flyers, and brochures in the office

5.  Lunch with Truett

6.  Pruned and dead-headed roses

7.  Talked to my sister for forty minutes

. . .and that's what I like about summer.

By the way, did you ever see a ball on a roof?  Here's one.

      

Now off to have watermelon for supper and kick back with Truett.