Tag: blog

Thoughts on Hurricane Preparation

At the time I wrote this, Doright Manor here in the Florida panhandle didn’t seem to be in the path of Hurricane Dorian; however, I have been recalling past hurricanes and thinking about the ways I’ve prepared for them. So, in no particular order, here are my sometimes unconventional ideas about what really helped us survive several storms and the days after.

  • Keep a pair of real shoes, as opposed to flip flops, next to your bed. Trust me.
  • Never use the term, “hunker down.” It affects me like fingernails on a chalkboard and should be stricken from the language.
  • Stock up on unscented baby wipes and Little Debbie oatmeal cookie sandwiches in addition to bottled water. Studly Doright recommends Vienna sausages, as well.
  • Wash all of the dirty clothes in your hamper. This way if you’re out of power for a few days, you won’t worry about running out of clothes to wear.
  • Go naked as much as possible. (Just kidding, but it could make hunkering down more interesting. Just don’t say “hunkering down.”)
  • Take “before” photos not only of your property for insurance purposes, but also of yourself to remind you of happier days. “Here I am, smiling and innocent.”

  • If you have cats, buy extra cat litter and treats. Scout says that a new catnip toy would be nice, too.

  • Fill your car(s) with gas. You might not need to drive, but you’re going to want to charge your phone at some point, and you can do that in your vehicle. Just do so in a well-ventilated area.
  • Make sure you have propane or charcoal for your grill. Restaurants are liable to be closed for a long time, and at some point you’re going to run out of Little Debbies and Vienna sausages.
  • Get plenty of cash before the storm. Following our first hurricane experience I inserted my debit card into an ATM and it didn’t come back out. No money and no card for an entire week made life interesting.
  • Fill your bathtub with water. You can wash with it, and use it to flush your toilet. Plus, the cats find it fascinating.

On a more serious note, Dorian isn’t likely to impact us, but it’s done terrible things in the Bahamas. Praying for all those who’ve been affected and for those in Dorian’s path.

Peace, people.

Snapshot #271

I’m calling this one, “Accidental Fashion Statement.”

I didn’t realize I’d worn two completely different earrings to the grocery store and to brunch until I took them off when I returned home to Doright Manor. Sheesh.

Peace, people!

Better Left Unseen

Have you ever witnessed something so shocking that your mind refused to accept what your eyes were seeing? Studly Doright likes to tell the story of a time when he was on his motorcycle, stuck in traffic beside a car of young women. When he glanced at the car he realized they all were flashing their breasts at him.

“It was so shocking,” he said, “That I had to do a double take. Then a triple take.”

Yes, I’m sure shock was what caused him to go back for more glances. I asked him what his reaction was.

“Heck, I think I gave a thumbs up and then got away from there as fast as possible,” he replied.

The thumbs up part, I believed.

At any rate, yesterday morning I witnessed something of a salacious nature that rendered me speechless. And yes, I did a double take because I honestly couldn’t believe my eyes.

I was slowing down for a stop sign at a busy corner in Tallahassee. To my right I noticed a well dressed couple waiting at a bus stop. They were face to face and I thought they were about to kiss.

“Ah! How sweet!” I thought.

Then I noticed where her hand was on the man’s body and what she was doing with said hand. To say I was shocked is putting it mildly. What in the world were they thinking? And, ewww! What if a kid saw what I did, and it’s entirely possible that one or more did. It made me incredibly sad. Needless to say, I didn’t give them a thumbs up. I simply drove away. Sigh.

How I wish it had just been a streaker.

Peace, and decency, people.

Snapshot #269 and #270

Yesterday morning at an estate sale I discovered that money might not buy happiness, but it can buy…fur aprons.

(The aprons are being displayed by another estate sale customer. She was as amused as I was.)

While I didn’t feel even a tiny bit of temptation to purchase either of these oddities, I did name them: Fur Thing 1 and Fur Thing 2. I also categorized them under the heading, More Money than Sense.

Peace, people.

The Name’s the Same

Not so long ago I posted a piece about the pronunciation of my name. It’s Leslie, pronounced with an s sound instead of a z. Occasionally people will use the z sound when pronouncing my name, but I don’t correct them. In the scheme of things, it’s not that big a deal. At least not in my world.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2019/07/02/its-my-name-ill-pronounce-it-anyway-i-like/

But I was watching the Today Show this morning and they did a story about a 49-year-old woman who’d legally changed her name from, wait for it, Leslie to something she thought was more feminine because people kept pronouncing her name with the z sound.

I tried to find the link to the segment, but all sorts of Leslies popped up: Leslie Mann, Leslie Uggams, Leslie Nielsen, Leslie Bibb, Leslie West. Even my comedic hero, the fictional Leslie Knope.

I’m pretty happy to be in their company, regardless of how you pronounce our name.

Peace, people!

Patterns

The beholder’s eye

Finds beauty in symmetry

Strength in the pattern

Humble beginnings

Yearn for immortality

Seeking atonement

What secret patterns

Affect the caterpillar

Who sprouts wings and flies?

In a Certain Light

Morning sun reveals

All the wrinkles that appear

In a certain light

Arms, crepe-laced, seem frail

Strong enough, though, for lifting

Grandchildren and cats

In a certain light

Fine lines crisscross her tired brow

Turn out that damned light

Writing is Hard

Stop laughing! Seriously. I’ve been working on a little novel for a long time now, but I’d run into a roadblock and I didn’t know whether to go over it, around it, tunnel under it, or trash it.

Yesterday morning while the technician was fumfering around with our sick air conditioning unit I had a nudge of inspiration and opened up the dormant manuscript on the computer. Since the story had been abandoned for such a long time I settled in and read it from the beginning. And I have to say I really like it. The characters feel like old friends and the part that once seemed like a major roadblock now feels more right.

You know how when you put on makeup in the morning and at first you aren’t crazy about the way it looks, but if you step away from the mirror for a few minutes and come back to your reflection you look great? No? Well, that happens to me all the time. And that’s exactly how I felt about the perceived roadblock. It now sounded appropriate.

When I got to the place where I’d left off in March I had to figure out how to nudge my characters forward. Now, this might come as a surprise to you, but my characters really like to talk. Several times I’ve had to call a halt to their conversations for the sake of action. I remind them that this isn’t Waiting for Godot. Lazy bums.

I think I’ve accomplished that now. Stuff is happening. People are moving. Jugglers are juggling. Seriously. Now I just need to tie all my loose ends together and complete this thing. For the first time I can actually see a finish line.

Okay, characters, break’s over. Quit talking and follow my lead. The checkered flag is in sight. Maybe I’ve got this. Maybe not. We’ll keep chugging along and hope for the best.

Peace, people.

Underneath it All

We’re having some air conditioning issues here at Doright Manor. I might write about them if any sanity remains after the technicians get through fixing the problem. Right now I’m too hot, sweaty, and annoyed to type more than a few sentences.

Yesterday when the repairman was here he took the thermostat off the wall, and I realized that at one time, Doright Manor had some really busy wallpaper.

I’m not a fan of wallpaper anyway, and this pattern made me shudder. Thank goodness they stripped the walls and painted them a nice boring white before we first looked at the house. Sure saved me a lot of unpleasant work.

Okay, that’s enough for now. Perspiration is blurring my sight.

Peace, people!

There’s a Message Here

Sunday morning Studly left to play golf around six. I kissed him goodbye, read a bit of my book and then dozed off. When my alarm awakened me at eight I was in the middle of a crazy, yet important dream.

In the dream I was at the Women’s Imaging Center in Tallahassee awaiting my turn to have my annual mammogram. I already had my gown on, and when my name was called I followed a nurse back to the procedure room. Only this year, the room was huge and filled with pink plastic picnic tables.

I asked what had happened to the standard room and was told, “This is the more humane method for conducting a mammogram. Take a seat at the first table and we’ll be with you momentarily.”

While I waited people came and went. A tour group of children with their teachers made a pass through the area. Several folks in medical scrubs walked by me, and I asked every one if they were there to perform my mammogram. They all looked at me like I was crazy.

Finally a man approached me and said I’d accidentally been sent to the wrong area. He pointed me to a shed at the far end of the picnic tables. Dutifully I trudged between the tables, trying in vain to hold my skimpy robe together.

When I arrived I discovered the shed was a store filled with feed for farm animals, with several such animals coming and going. There was a Holstein cow, and a chicken or two, and a Shetland pony inside the store. But in the back was a small room with the appropriate equipment and a nice technician to put my “girls” through their paces. Then the alarm woke me.

So, what’s the message here? Several years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer that was detected early thanks to a mammogram. This simple procedure very well could’ve saved my life. So do it. Even if picnic tables and cows are involved.

Peace, people!