Before I began blogging on WordPress occasionally I’d write what I called “Pretending for Grownups” posts on Facebook. My Facebook friends would read them and declare, “Oh! You should write a blog!” Ironically, very few of those who urged me to blog actually read my blog–but I blame (and thank) them for my addiction to blogging.
Today Facebook resurrected one of my “memories” which happened to be an early Pretending for Grownups. I thought I’d share it with you. Ah, the good old days…
I snapped many photos while Studly Doright and I toured the USS ALABAMA and the USS DRUM in Mobile, Alabama, this past weekend. Here are the ones taken while we snaked our way through the DRUM, a World War II era submarine on display at Battleship Memorial Park.
I can’t imagine being stuck on this vessel for months on end. Claustrophobia would’ve been the death of me.
Peace, people!
On our way home from New Orleans where we purchased parts for a motorcycle Studly Doright is building (see Tuesday’s post) we stopped to tour the USS ALABAMA, a decommissioned battleship that saw duty from August of 1942 until 1947. Since January of 1965, the ship has been the centerpiece at the USS ALABAMA Battleship Memorial Park east of Mobile.
I highly recommend a visit to the park where, in addition to touring the battleship one can also tour the submarine USS DRUM, and an aircraft exhibit.
Below are just a few of the photos we took during our tour:
The ALABAMA earned nine battle stars, and shot down 22 enemy planes during World War II. She’s a beautifully fearsome ship.
More than ever, peace, people!
It’s beginning to look a lot like…
…the end of November.
As winter approaches in the Florida panhandle, rain substitutes for snow, while galoshes and umbrellas sub for snow boots and mittens. As I dressed for work on this rainy, but warm morning (71 degrees at 7:30 a.m.) I didn’t complain. I’d much rather drive on wet roads than icy ones. After experiencing several winters in North Dakota and Illinois, I’m no longer nostalgic for pretty snowfalls and roaring fires.
Doright Manor is still decorated for Thanksgiving, and will remain thus until the first weekend in December. I have nothing against those who put up their Christmas trees the day after Thanksgiving, but my heart clings to November like the last leaf on an oak tree.
Meanwhile all around me folks are humming Christmas carols and buying wrapping paper. The Hallmark Channel is running sappy made-for-tv holiday movies 24/7. Santa Claus is already holding court at the mall.
Enough already! I say, let November have its special place in the American psyche. Savor November. And while you’re at it, listen to Guns N’ Roses, November Rain.
https://g.co/kgs/FFEJsw
Peace, people!
Saturday was Studly Doright’s 59th birthday. Having feasted to the overflow mark on Thanksgiving he wanted no special birthday foods and said he’d play a round of golf to celebrate the big day. I sang “Happy Birthday” as he headed to the golf course while he grinned. I have that effect on people.
When he arrived home after golf, though, he told me to pack an overnight bag. He’d bought some motorcycle parts online and we needed to pick them up. In Metairie, Louisiana, outside of New Orleans! I didn’t quibble and ten minutes later we were on the road.
New Orleans is a five and a half hour drive from Doright Manor, and we made it to the seller’s home around 5:30 p.m. Studly was delighted with his bargain, so while he and the seller stood swapping motorcycle tales (a.k.a. “kicking tires and telling lies”) I booked us a hotel room in Metairie.
After a nice light dinner at PF Chang’s we checked into our hotel and cheered on the Florida State Seminoles from the comfort of our bed.
Knowing the New Orleans Saints were playing at home at noon on Sunday we planned to get up early and be well away from the area before game time. Studly had me find us a breakfast spot using Siri, and with only one little mixup we were soon seated at a table at Willa Jean, a top brunch spot in the central business district in downtown New Orleans.
I had beignets on my mind, but unfortunately they weren’t on the menu. But, oh my goodness! What a menu! Studly, who is a breakfast traditionalist, had biscuits and sausage gravy and proclaimed his meal to be perfect. I enjoyed grilled cornbread with a syrupy butter and a side of bacon. We both believe it was the best restaurant meal we’ve had in years. Check out their website: http://www.willajean.com.
After we left Willa Jean, finding the interstate was a cinch. I snapped this photo of Louis Armstrong just standing on a corner:
Ok, so Satchmo was only there in statue form, but the city was waking up around him in preparation for the game.
Once on the interstate I took a few random shots. Whatever did I do before I had an iPhone?
I’ll finish up my piece tomorrow with photos of our visit to the USS Alabama. For a low-key birthday, we had a pretty grand time. Thanks for reading!
Peace, people!
The 2016 election was a soul sucker. It was like carrying a baby for nine months and after 36 hours of labor having the doctor announce, “Congratulations, it’s a full grown rattlesnake!”
On the one hand, you’re glad it’s all over, while on the other hand you wonder how long it’ll be before your baby delivers the lethal bite. Ah! Good times.
Thank goodness for diversions like Words With Friends. Currently I have 21 games in progress, and any time there’s a lull in the action I start another one. Right now, I don’t even care if I win or lose. It’s the distraction from current events that counts.
The president-elect names a white supremacist as his chief strategist and senior counselor? I find a way to play a word containing both z and v.
A woman who doesn’t support public schools is named Secretary of Education? No worries, I play “teazles” for 182 points, and I don’t care that I have no idea what it means!*
I hear that Trump is refusing to take security briefings? Ok, I cried, but then I went on to play “equinoxes” and temporarily forgot that we have elected a lightweight to the highest office in the free world.
Reality bites right now. I think I’ll go start another game.
*verb archaic:
teazle
1. raise a nap on (cloth) with or as if with teasels.
Those of you who are new to my blog might not realize that I have a life outside of bashing our president-elect, but I do! I live with my husband, Studly Doright, and our two feline supervisors, Scout and Patches, in our own little piece of paradise that I like to call Doright Manor.
We have two perfect children and five absolutely superior grandchildren (funny how that works, seeing as how Studly and I just barely peek over the average range), but they live far away from our home outside of Tallahassee, Florida.
Studly and I were high school sweethearts in Texas, and in forty years of marriage we’ve moved 14 times, lived in five different states, and I’ve lost count of the number of homes we’ve shared. We aren’t retired yet, but it’s number one on our bucket list.
Studly married me thinking I’d turn out to be a great cook like his mom (Saint Helen) or my mom, (Gingymama), but I had neither the aptitude nor the attitude to develop into much more than a mediocre heater upper. Poor, poor Studly.
Twice a year, though, I focus all of my energies into cooking a kick ass holiday meal. I plan and prepare and check ingredients off of lists and shop and preheat–all the necessary stuff. Sometimes, it all turns out perfectly. Other times we pretend. Wine helps.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day here in the US. So today I’m baking a pecan pie, hard boiling eggs, and making cornbread. Doright Manor smells amazing. I’ll arise early tomorrow to prep and roast a turkey, make cornbread dressing, a fruit salad, and deviled eggs, along with Studly’s favorite green bean casserole (ugh!) and cranberry sauce. With any luck neither of us will need to pretend that it tastes great. Again, wine helps.
It’s just going to be the two of us for dinner, well and the cats, but I’m thankful that we are healthy and have each other. I’m most thankful that at Christmas we’ll get to see our kids, grandkids, and Saint Helen, when we congregate in Nashville, Tennessee, for a family holiday extravaganza.
Now, the smoke alarm hasn’t sounded even once this morning, so all is well at Doright Manor. I’d best go, though, and open a bottle of wine. Just in case.
Peace, and Happy Thanksgiving, people.
Every now and then I’m nominated for an award on WordPress. The first time this happened I was all aglow. What an honor! And truly, it’s always an honor for someone to consider my humble little blog worth a mention.
But the awards come with rules:
Nominate 5 or 8 or 135 bloggers and link to them.
Answer a dozen questions.
Thank people.
Stand on your head and wiggle your toes while whistling “Yankee Doodle.”
And while I might’ve made that last one up, the sad truth is I’m a lousy rule follower, and the last few times I’ve found myself a nominee I have politely excused myself from the game.
So I thought, what if I just made up my own award? With no rules, only a suggestion. Ta da! It’s the “Must Read” award. I’m awarding it to Mike Steeden, one of the most imaginative writers I follow. He is a quirky genius with a flair for the absurd, writing a mixture of prose and poetry that I find delightful. I highly suggest you read Mike’s blog:
https://mikesteeden.wordpress.com/2016/11/20/the-collector-of-memories/#like-4919
The only suggestion attached to this award is that Mike might give out his own “Must Read” Award to anyone (other than me) that he absolutely thinks others will enjoy. Since I faithfully follow Mike’s blog perhaps I’ll pick up a new author to follow, as well.
So go on now. Read Mike’s blog. Thank me later.
Disclaimer: I’m sorry if there’s already a must read award out there. My lack of originality is appalling in that case.
My heart hurts.
My heart hurts, so I go in search of healing.
I found this beautiful post by Arthur Waskow on Facebook early this morning.
Praying for Eyebrowz 