Category: Commentary

The Quiet Benchmark

I’m so accustomed to WordPress announcing accomplishments for my blog that I was kind of expecting some sort of notification when I hit 2,000 followers on July 30. But, no. The benchmark came and went with little fanfare.

Well, maybe because it’s taken me over five years to reach 2,000, they didn’t think it was worth noting. And given my followers on FB and Twitter, I’ve been over the mark for at least two years now.

Every now and again I wonder if blogging is a good idea. Am I wasting my time, and yours, dear followers, by jotting down my often random thoughts on a daily basis? The truth is that I’ve been at it for so long that it’s become a pleasant habit, and I LOVE the interaction with others. I learn so much from reading the blogs I follow, and that’s something I might not do if I weren’t actively involved in writing one myself.

So I’m going to celebrate my little milestone. Stand back; this could get crazy.

(That’s not me, but I like her spirit!)

And, In Other News

Today marks the 43rd year of my marriage to Studly Doright. Guess who forgot? Not Studly.

He called me early Tuesday morning on his way home from Orlando, and in response to my “hello,” he said, “happy anniversary,” prompting a quick glance at my calendar. Sure enough, July 30. Well, how about that.

Up until today I’d never forgotten the date of the day we said “I do” in a small Baptist church in Dumas, Texas. After 43 years maybe he’ll cut me some slack.

Time sure flies when you’re married to your best friend.

Peace, people.

Manipulating Space

What if I had a super power? Not a grand power, such as flying or being bullet proof or extra strong, but a discrete power. I’m thinking specifically of being able to manipulate space. No, not outer space, but the space immediately surrounding me.

For example, let’s say I’m driving in the third lane of a four lane interstate in Dallas, Texas, when I realize the traffic to my right is being forced to merge into my lane due to road construction. I’m about to be smushed between a car on my left and an 18-wheeler on my right. There are cars directly in front of me and behind me, and I have nowhere to go. I’m talking about an imminent collision.

Mentally, I shrink, both myself and my vehicle. Physically I pull my shoulders in closer to my body and visualize my car doing the same–well, except the car doesn’t have shoulders. Somehow it works. I come out of the situation unscathed, and I go about my day. I drive to my destination and have a nice dinner with my son and his family.

Only after I’m in bed that night do I start shaking. What in hell happened that afternoon? Honestly, I should be in the hospital, heck, maybe in the morgue. My car should be a total wreck. Instead, I get up, pour myself a glass of wine and finally calm down so I can sleep.

Now, what if I told you this happened to me several months ago? Would you think I was crazy? Or, would you think maybe, just maybe, that I have a bit of spatial magic as my super power? Okay, I’m pretty sure there’s a logical explanation for what happened, but it’s kind of fun to imagine me having this one very discrete ability.

Have you ever experienced anything similar? Something that, after it happened you thought, “WTH!?” Discuss. And don’t call the men in white coats to take me away–unless of course they’re employed by an exclusive spa and you’ve booked me a month-long stay.

She Said She Shed

I was investigating an estate sale in mid-town Tallahassee, on Friday morning, and while I didn’t purchase anything, I fell in love with this backyard potting shed. As soon as Studly Doright returned home I showed him this photo and told him I thought I needed a she shed of my own.

“But you don’t garden!” he said.

“Well, I might if I had a nifty she shed,” I replied. “Or maybe I’d use it as my writing nook. Who knows, maybe the next great American novel could be written in such a shed.”

“Oh, you’re planning on letting someone else use it then,” he said.

I’d have hit him with my gardening shears if I’d had any.

But, can we agree it’s a lovely she shed?

Peace, people!

Studly and Siri

Last night I was on my third glass of wine when Studly Doright began planning his motorcycle trip from Doright Manor to his mom’s house in Hereford, Texas. I kept hearing him mumble into his phone.

“Siri, how far is it from Bainbridge, Georgia, to Dothan, Alabama? No, not Dowland, Dothan.

“How far from Dothan to Montgomery, Alabama?”

Some unintelligible mumbling.

This went on for at least twenty minutes. One town after another, one misunderstanding after another. Twice I thought he was talking to me. A couple of times I questioned his judgement.

“Little Rock, Arkansas? That’s way out of your way!” I said.

“Shhhh!” he shushed. “Siri and I have a thing going on.”

She helped him plot his route from Havana, Florida, to Bainbridge, Georgia, to Dothan, Alabama, to Montgomery, Alabama to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, to Columbus, Mississippi, to Indianola, Mississippi, to Hot Springs, Arkansas, to McAlester, Oklahoma, to Wellington, Texas, to his final destination of Hereford, Texas.

Whew! My route is much easier: Drive to the Tallahassee airport, board a flight to Dallas, Texas, at 7:45, change planes and arrive in Amarillo by 1:44. Siri never got involved.

He’s taking the road less traveled; I’m taking the friendly skies. Hopefully our paths will converge in the Texas panhandle. If not, Siri’s got some ‘splainin’ to do.

Peace, people!

What About Pickled Okra?

When I published my post about southern foods a couple of days ago, I was quick to add fried okra to the list.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2019/07/24/okra-fried-not-boiled/

My daughter then reminded me of pickled okra, and my mouth began to water. Okra, when pickled properly presents the palate with a profusion of exquisite flavors. I’m no pickler, but I sure appreciate the artistry of a good one.

Is pickled okra something you’ve tasted? Is it primarily a Southern dish? Are there pickled foods, other than cucumbers, that you eat?

Speaking of which, I was a young adult before I realized the connection between cucumbers and pickles. In fact, I might’ve argued to the contrary, maintaining that pickles were their own category of vegetable. It wasn’t my proudest moment.

Here’s an article about pickles and how to pickle just about anything other than yesterday’s socks.

https://www.epicurious.com/expert-advice/how-to-pickle-basically-everything-article/amp

Now, I need to go shopping. My mouth is still watering.

Peace, people!

Well, That’s Odd

Some days this semi-retirement gig is a drag. Most days I have more than enough to keep me busy, but some days, like yesterday, I find myself suffering from the worst kind of ennui. At ten a.m. I was still in my pajamas, wondering what to do with my day.

Since I know in my heart I have a really good thing going, I shoved that boredom to the side, then showered and dressed while deciding to head to a place that’s always good for a bit of fun, a place called The Other Side of Vintage in Railroad Square.

As I walked around the huge thrift shop I kept saying to myself variations of the phrase, “Well, that’s odd….” After the fifth or sixth time I realized I had a blog post in the making and began snapping pictures.

Repeat after me: “Well, that’s odd….”

As is this kimono wearing piggy faced unicorn.

And how about this Rastafarian banana sharing space with a Dia de los Muertos plaque? Olé, mon, have a nice day!

And the Elvis Bears weren’t as odd as they were cute. Obviously from Elvis’s chubby period.

These pelvic themed leggings certainly qualify as odd. I came so close to buying them.

Not odd at all, but gorgeous. I think she might be modeled on actress Gene Tierney, even though the actress was a brunette. Does anyone know?

This is definitely on the odd side. It’s some kind of short jumpsuit with a long kimono type garment attached. Can you see me wearing it to the local Publix? Très chic, baby!

The tableau below needs very little commentary, but I’ll provide some anyway. We have Erkel, keeping company with a pair of nuns, next to a display of Pinocchio and sunglasses, with a Pikachu hat-wearing mannequin dressed in an OutKast T-shirt as background. Absolutely normal, right?

Then there’s the Last Supper fan with a couple of flasks. Water into wine, anyone?

Last, but not least, I was drawn to the delicious weirdness of Jesus holding court over Camel, the Game, on the same platform as a salt lamp.

I made one purchase; although, it’s not pictured in any of the photos above.

Years ago I donated all of my Harry Potter books to a school library. Now, after finding the first book in the series, I’ve decided I’m going to track down every book, in order of publication, and add them to my book collection. That’s not too odd, is it?

Peace, people!

Okra, Fried not Boiled

Recently I took part in a silly Facebook game wherein one learned how Southern one might be based on the number of traditionally southern foods one has eaten.

Not to brag, or anything, but I scored 25 points, making me Sho’nuff Southern. Some of the foods listed I tried just for the heck of it and never indulged in them again–namely shrimp and grits which I find disgusting, unlike cheese grits which can be divine, and chicken livers–a delicacy my mama loved and insisted I sample. All I have to say is ewwww.

My daughter noted that fried okra, our very favorite southern food was missing from the list. We made an executive decision to include it and awarded ourselves an extra point for having enjoyed this most wonderful of foods.

Only in the south can one take a vegetable and render it simultaneously delicious and unhealthy by breading and deep frying said vegetable. We do it with squash, as well. Oh wow, I guess fried squash needs to be on the list, too. One more point for me!

I’m fairly adventurous when it comes to foods, or was until I embarked on a plant-based diet, but there are certain foods on the list that I have not and can, with a certain amount of certainty say, will never eat, including redeye gravy, liver mush (!), and pickled pigs feet. I shuddered just typing them.

What foods are typical of where you live? I know I tried haggis when I visited Scotland, and enjoyed scones with clotted cream in Ireland. Mainly there I had the beer, though. That’s an international food I can support wholeheartedly.

Peace, people!

A Feast for the Eyes

On Saturday after I’d finished shopping at estate sales I found myself way out on the east side of Tallahassee and decided to stop for lunch at a farm to table restaurant called Backwoods Crossing.

The food at the Crossing is wonderful; although, dairy free choices are limited. Still I was able to find something on the menu to suit my needs and had an enjoyable meal, after which I wandered through the gardens.

The little guy above offered to give me a tour, but his prices were a bit steep.

Bananas!

I’d love to come out here on a fall day and dine outside.

Heed this warning or you’ll be toast, among other things.

This is such a lovely place. Almost heaven.

Peace, people.

The Message

Yesterday morning I went to church.

There seemed to be no consequences. I wasn’t impaled on a bolt of lightning. The ground didn’t open up and swallow me whole. No crowd with pitchforks showed up to exorcise my demons.

Of course it was wise of me to attend a church that prides itself on inclusion. I wouldn’t have gone to one of those that preaches intolerance for any group, or exclusion based on skin color or sexual orientation. In fact, I was prepared to walk out if there’d been even a hint of that. I was a bit skittish.

Several people welcomed me, but I found a spot where I could sit alone just in case I needed to exit for any reason. At my age, nature sometimes calls urgently and with little warning. Thankfully nothing physical interfered with my morning of worship.

The message was delivered by a guest pastor, and it began with a liberal political statement.

Now y’all know I’m a liberal. I detest Donald Trump and everything he represents, but I don’t want politics mixed with my faith. And from the sudden feel of chill in the air I got the distinct impression that none of the other worshippers appreciated it either.

That’s a huge difference between the right and the left. The right seems to relish politics mixed in with their religious beliefs, while we on the left tend to believe in the sanctity of the separation between church and state.

In the end this morning’s message was okay. I wasn’t inspired, but I found some nuggets to take away.

1) Know your audience

Okay, one nugget: Dude, politics don’t belong in the sermon.

Don’t get me wrong, from the notices on the church bulletin board and the pre-service chitchat and morning announcements, I concluded that this is a progressive congregation that believes in service over dogma. They’re all about action. They just don’t want the ugliness of trump, et. al., to interfere with the worship.

Will I go back? Sure. The regular ministers will be returning soon, and I’m eager to hear their message. Hopefully it’s free of politics.

Peace, people.