Suggestions?

If you were a smart, beautiful girl, who isn’t into girly-girl stuff, what would you want to receive as a gift for your 14th birthday?

This isn’t a rhetorical question. Our eldest grandchild will celebrate her 14th birthday on September 13. Today is September 7. Surely someone out there has a suggestion. I’m getting desperate.

Here she is with her dog, Toby. 

Bed and Breakfast Interlude

Twelve hours without electricity (courtesy of Hurricane Hermine) and the joys that it brings (hot showers, air conditioning) resulted in Studly Doright and I staying in a Bed and Breakfast Inn on Friday night. 

We’d tried to find a hotel in Tallahassee, but the ones with electrical power were all completely booked, while ones without power wouldn’t have improved our lot. I looked farther afield and found the 1872 John Denham House in Monticello, FL.

1872 John Denham House

Even though the grounds of the inn had suffered at the hands of Hermine, this gorgeous home experienced a loss of power only briefly and was an air conditioned oasis on a hot, humid Florida day. The cool air felt so good when we stepped into the foyer that I almost cried.

The foyer

The inn’s registry in the foyer
 

The inn’s proprietress gave us a brief tour of the first floor before showing us to our room. 

The parlor
Another view of the parlor
A view of the dining room from the parlor
Formal dining room
The formal dining room
 

Studly Doright and I were fortunate to book the honeymoon suite. It was a great deal more charming than the room we stayed in at The Camelot Inn in Amarillo, TX, 40 years ago.

I took these photos after our night in the room, so the poorly made bed is my fault. It was impeccably staged for our arrival.

Each room in the house featured a fireplace. This was ours.
The claw foot bathtub made for an interesting, yet surprisingly efficient shower setting.
 

After a restful night Studly arose early to play his Saturday golf game, leaving me to enjoy breakfast without him. I didn’t think to take take photos of the meal, but it was outstanding, consisting of a fluffy soufflé, fresh fruit, yogurt, and homemade biscuits with a variety of homemade jams and jellies. 

I met two of the other guests at breakfast, Gordon and Addison, who are members of a meteorological research team from the University of Oklahoma. The two men used the inn as a base while studying Hurricane Hermine. I pried as much information from them as possible, trying not to be too obnoxious. I’m fairly sure I failed in that regard. 

Sensing my interest they provided directions to their rig parked at the edge of town, so on my way home I stopped by to snap some photos:


I sincerely hope the researchers gained useful information for future hurricane survivors. Specifically, how do we avoid loss of electricity? Now that would be a worthy project.

Peace, people!

Hermine’s Exit

Hurricane Hermine arrived in a fury of wind and rain while Studly Doright and I lay sleeping Thursday night. Downgraded to a tropical storm shortly before impacting the Tallahassee area, she inflicted damage nonetheless. 

The electricity went out around 1:45 a.m. EDT, well ahead of Hermine which hit us at 4:30 on Friday morning, and did not come back on until sometime on Saturday–long enough for all of the perishables in our refrigerator to be rendered unusable, but thankfully before the contents of the freezer could be damaged. I spent Saturday afternoon cleaning out the fridge. 

We still don’t have cable or internet service at Doright Manor, so I’m sitting in a cafe in Tallahassee typing this as Studly plays golf. As long as the links are open life does go on.

We could have stayed at home Friday night, but the heat accumulated during the day made the un-air conditioned house uncomfortable. We looked for a hotel in Tallahassee, but the ones that had power were completely booked. We ended up staying in a bed and breakfast inn in Monticello, FL, and once I have access to my own internet connection I’ll share photos of the beautiful home in which we stayed. 

If one merely glances out the window the world looks perfectly normal.



The sun is shining, birds are singing, squirrels are squirreling. But just a trip around the neighborhood gives clues as to the force of Hermine’s wrath. Unfortunately I’m unable to share any additional photos right now. I’m hoping that’s due to the Internet at the cafe and not something going on with my WordPress account.

Downed trees and fallen branches littered the roadways. Leaves stripped from branches were plastered to the sidewalks. Businesses and homes sustained broken windows. But as far as I know there were no deaths or serious injuries as a result of the storm, and that’s the only thing that matters.

Thanks to all my followers and readers who’ve been concerned with our safety. I received so many thoughtful posts that until today I was unable to respond to. Off I go to the grocery store to buy replacements for perishable items. At least one really good thing came from Hermine–the inside of my refrigerator is sparkling clean.

By the Numbers

Note: No joking in this note, the number 651008 represents the number of brave U.S. men and women killed in combat. God, I’m sick of wars started by old men and fought by young people. I didn’t know the meaning of the number until after the post was written. A sobering thought. Carry on. 

A friend from childhood posted a number on Facebook several days ago and asked what we thought it represented: 

651008

My first guess was the mileage on a vintage truck. No, it wasn’t that. My next guess was that it is the number assigned to an automotive part. So far, my friend hasn’t provided the answer. I’m waiting impatiently for a response.

In the meantime I’ve been contemplating numbers. Did you know you can google your exact age and a calculator will determine the number of days and months you’ve been on this earth?

On Wednesday, August 31, I was this old:


I feel like I should have more days than that to my credit. Surely nights spent pacing the floor with a cranky baby count for more. And if I’ve been alive for 3,125.7 weeks, that means I’ve survived over 3,000 Mondays. Doesn’t that alone deserve a medal of some sort?

Logically, my brain skipped to wondering how far we are from the planet Neptune. Thanks again to Google, I found this information:


Too far for a weekend destination, and I hear the weather is terrible there this time of millennium. The average surface temperature is a balmy -218° C. Still, that’s a lovely group of numbers.

Much closer to home, did you realize that humans have an estimated 32.7 trillion cells in their bodies give or take a few trillion depending on the metrics used?

I still have no idea what 651008 signifies, but if I google its properties, I get a page chock full of information:

And the above showed only a part of the page. Well, this made me wonder what properties the number 1 has.


Kind of fascinating that the lowly number 1 has so much going for it.

Life is good here at Doright Manor. Good enough that I can spend my morning fiddling with Google and contemplating numbers as a possible hurricane approaches from the Gulf of Mexico, a distance of approximately 504 miles. 


Maybe this would be a good time to visit Neptune.

Peace, people.

Snapshot #’s 16 and 17

Note: This post was written several days pre-hurricane. Carry on.

Would you look at this? The faeries agreed to move in with three conditions: 

1) They can stay on the screened in porch.

2) The cats have to stay at least 15 yards away.

3) A suitable temporary home be found.

The cats were willing to give in to the distance provision, and I’m okay with the faeries using the screened in porch as long as the storm doesn’t threaten that area. 

I had two bird houses from which to choose, and after looking at photos of both, the faeries said this one would do. 


I asked if I could snap a photo so that everyone would know they were safe. While they agreed to the photo, they were surprised that anyone even knew of their existence.

I assured them that a great many folks were concerned about their welfare. 

The cats are keeping their oath to refrain from eating our guests. I’d say in the realm of human-faerie-feline relations this experiment has been an unmitigated success.

Peace, people.

Housing Crisis

Note: This was a pre-prepared blog post. For all you know I could be lying trapped beneath a downed pine tree in the neighbor’s yard, having been tossed there by Hurricane Hermine. Carry on.

On Saturday I purchased a special house at the Farmers’ Market in downtown Tallahassee.


Notice anything unusual? No door! But that’s ok, because it’s a house for bats.


And the entryway is in the bottom of the house. Cool, eh?

I figured with our do-nothing GOP controlled congress and our equally lame GOP governor ignoring the Zika crisis I should do my part to cut down on the mosquito population. What better way than by inviting bats to live in the neighborhood?

Of course in order to attract bats the house probably needs to be hung. Preferably outside.

Studly Doright isn’t in the mood to hang my new purchase (we are in the middle of a huge storm right now, so I suppose I’ll forgive him). It could be awhile before we’re ready to invite bats to Doright Manor.

In the meantime, I’ve been researching bat houses and ways to attract the flying mammals at https://batconservation.org/.

Apparently Florida is host to at least 14 different kinds of bats. Hopefully at least one kind will like our house well enough to move in. I’ve been told that none of the commercial attractants are effective, so one has to mount the house on a sufficiently tall pole, in an area of the yard that receives ample sunlight, and wait for occupancy. 

Locating the bat house near a lake is supposed to increase the likelihood of the house being occupied, so we’ve got that going for us, but the literature indicates it could be months, maybe even years before we have bats living in the house. 

Considering their inability to take decisive action, these bats might be Republicans.


Peace, people!

The Calm Before the Storm

I’m a bit fascinated by our approaching storm. Hermine is still rated as a tropical storm; although, meteorologists expect to upgrade her to a hurricane when she makes landfall tonight. 

I shot a brief video that I hope you’ll enjoy. And hey, if I get blown away, you’ll have something to remember me by. I do have two or three posts queued up, though, so you won’t know I’m gone for a bit. 

Peace, people!

Hurricane Prep, Cats, and Faeries

After much procrastination (not to brag, but that’s one of my specialities) I decided to drive into Tallahassee to stock up on supplies. I knew we’d need bottled water, but beyond that I didn’t have a clue. I’m not a terrific grocery shopper under normal conditions, but with a possible hurricane headed our way I needed to focus. 


I only had to shop for Studly Doright and me, so there was no need to go overboard. I figured a loaf of bread, a fresh jar of peanut butter, mixed nuts, Cheez Whiz, tuna fish and chicken salad snacks, crackers, power bars and fruit snacks would tide us through a couple of days without power. Of course I couldn’t leave the store without buying Studly’s favorite Vienna sausages. Shudder!

My problem now is convincing myself not to eat any of our supplies until there’s an actual need. I can leave the little sausages alone, but those Apple Straws look interesting. They were an impulse buy to substitute for my favorite Little Debbie oatmeal cream cakes that had already sold out. Damnit! Everybody wanted that chewy, creamy goodness. Here’s hoping a dearth of Little Debbie oatmeal cream cakes isn’t a matter of life and death.

After putting away the groceries I noticed a note propped up against the cookie jar on the kitchen table. Hmm. Maybe Studly stopped by Doright Manor during his lunch time. But when I looked closely I realized that wasn’t Studly’s handwriting:


The cats seldom leave notes for us, and when they do they mostly pertain to the quality of their treats or the state of their cat litter. Scout once wrote me a thank you note for cleaning the carpet of her upchucked hairballs, but that was an exception. This apparently was another exception. Not far from this bit of writing was the indicated note:


First off, I could see the cats need a lesson in changing the “y” to “i” when creating past tenses and plurals, but I was overcome by their thoughtfulness. 

I delivered the note to the faeries, now it remains to be seen if they trust us enough to accept our invitation. Of course if they do I’ll need to figure out how to feed them. Maybe Studly will share his Vienna sausages. 

Update on the storm: As I typed this post, Tropical Depression 9 was reclassified as Tropical Storm Hermine. I just heard on the Weather Channel that the Tallahassee area could experience the worst storm in decades. Oh joy. Maybe I need to go in search of those Little Debbie cakes.


Peacr, people!

Tropical Depression 9

We’ve got trouble coming.


According to tracking predictions on my Storm app, Tropical Depression Nine is going to make a pass very near Doright Manor in Florida this week. The disturbance is heading into the Gulf of Mexico now where it’s picking up steam and could potentially be upgraded to a hurricane. 

Studly Doright and I experienced a couple of hurricanes when we lived in Melbourne, Florida, in ’03 and ’04. I’m not in the mood to repeat those experiences. Sitting in a boarded up home  (aka “hunkering down”) for 24 hours straight while ferocious winds blew unidentifiable objects into our home was not optimal for my sanity. This blog should be proof of that. And we did it twice.

Had I never had to hunker down to survive two hurricanes I’d probably be writing a how-to blog for docile homemakers or an advice column for lovesick teenagers.

I asked Studly if the cats and I could evacuate to a safer place this time. He just pulled his hat down on his head and croaked, “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.” 

Maybe those days of hunkering down took a toll on him, too.

Oh, and because the storm is currently called “Tropical Depression Nine,” I thought this video featuring The Searchers was a fitting cap to the post. Enjoy!

http://youtu.be/7rXhXLsNJL8


Peace, people.

Snapshot #15

I found this fat worm curiously curled up next to a pair of tiny, faerie birds near the faerie dwelling. I’m calling this one, “Too Big to Fail.”