Tag: Doright Manor

Near Misses

Have you ever had one of those days where you seem to successfully dodge one mishap after another? I have to confess that’s not my norm. If a ball has begun rolling down hill a mile away from me then chances are our paths will cross before long and I’ll go heels over head in spectacular fashion.

Yesterday, though, on my way home from Tallahassee I managed to avoid one potentially injurious incident after another. Rather than go into detail I’ll simply list them.

1) Someone driving a sporty red car ran a red light through a busy intersection just as I entered said intersection. My reflexes saved me. My raised middle finger was of no use.

2) A mile or so down the road an impatient driver on a side street pulled around another car and darted in front of me. I applied my brakes and my horn simultaneously. No fingers were raised.

3) As I entered a tightly engineered roundabout the car in front of me came to an abrupt stop causing the car behind me to very nearly rear end my car. At this point I’m thinking, Should I just park and call an Uber to take me home?”

4) I turned onto a familiar country road to take a shortcut home. A road construction crew had stopped oncoming traffic allowing cars in my lane to proceed. Unfortunately one southbound idiot decided he didn’t need to wait on cars going northbound and came right at me. I’ve now become something of an expert at avoiding crashes, so I find space to make room for the $&:(@?! and after honking and glaring at him I went on my less than merry way. Note: glares are as ineffective as middle fingers.

5) At this point I figured I had most certainly survived the gauntlet. Now that I was within three miles of Doright Manor surely nothing else could befall me. Then there was a cow. Now, I grew up in rural Texas where it wasn’t uncommon to see a lone cow or even a small herd of cattle on the road, but this was a first for me in Florida. I rounded a curve in the road and there she was, just waiting for me to kill both of us. I pressed on the brakes and stopped with at least two entire inches to spare.

6) I managed the rest of the drive without incident, and have decided to become a hermit. At least for a day or so. My guardian angel needs a rest.

Peace, people!

“Take That Emily” Reblog

I love it when someone reads a blog post that I’d completely forgotten about. The post shows up in my stats and I get to read it again and remember the day I wrote it.

Take That Emily recalls a time when I encountered a snake in our backyard. I was brave that day. I’m seldom brave, so it’s worth noting.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2016/04/13/take-that-emily/

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Lately I’ve felt overwhelmed. Between our crazy political situation, the virus that never ends, being separated for way too long from my children and grandchildren, and the heartbreaking loss of our beloved kitty, Scout, I’ve been tempted to just go to bed and not get up until life feels worth living again.

My husband, Studly Doright has always been a “glass that’s more than half full” kind of guy, but he has been devastated by Scout’s death—so much so that he seriously considered dropping out of a golf tournament. That’s just unheard of, and he finally decided he’d go ahead and play because other golfers were depending on him.

Yesterday morning, before he left for the tournament he kissed me goodbye and with tears in his eyes said, “We really don’t want to live in a house without a cat, do we?”

I could only shake my head.

“Go find a cat who needs us,” he said.

And so I did. Meet Gracie:

Gracie

This precious rescue kitty was languishing in a showcase at PetCo when we first met. When I spoke to her she stuck her nose through one of the holes and said “hi!”

Now, she’s keeping me company on the sofa.

Gracie is just over a year old and came to a local shelter as a pregnant feral cat. After her kittens were weaned, each one found a home, leaving Gracie on her own in the shelter.

She’d been adopted twice, and returned both times. The first family discovered that their child was allergic to cats, the other family had a dog who felt threatened by her. We’re her lucky third chance.

Gracie is doing well here at Doright Manor, but we can tell she’s a bit reluctant to go all in. And who could blame her? She really likes our screened-in back porch, and spent much of the evening perched on the cat tree Studly made for Scout.

When we turned in for the night she sat at the foot of the bed watching us for a long time. Studly tried to coax her to come closer, but she snubbed his efforts. I thought maybe in a week or so she’d feel comfortable enough to snuggle with us.

But I woke up around one a.m. and her sweet little face was just inches from mine. She’d curled up next to my head and was so deeply asleep that she didn’t even twitch when I extricated myself from the covers to make a trip to the bathroom. When I returned and slid back into bed she opened one eye as if to say, “Make up your mind, lady.”

I must admit to feeling like we rushed into adopting a new cat so soon after losing Scout. There was a moment of panic after I’d paid the adoption fee and realized I was now in a committed relationship with this little girl. But, Studly was right. I really don’t want to live in a house without a cat. And magically, I feel like I have a reason to get out of bed again.

Peace, people!

Lizard Guts

As I approached the driveway into Doright Manor today I clicked on the garage door opener. Rounding the turn leading into the garage I noted a large lizard scampering up the door, taking ill-advised refuge in one of the door’s folds.

I yelled at the lizard, “Look out!” and tried to stop the door, but wasn’t quick enough. Now the world has one less lizard. It’s a sad day indeed.

Rest In Peace, little lizard.

Peace, people.

eBay or Goodwill

Last week we had new carpet installed here at Doright Manor. In preparation for the arrival of the carpet layers I had to clean all of the stuff from the closet floors. Simple enough.

Finally I’d moved everything that might be in the way of the workmen into the seldom used living room and decided this afforded me the perfect excuse to assess every item, Marie Kondo style, to see if any joy was sparked before putting anything back in its old storage place.

After nearly a week of sorting through the odds and ends I’ve come to believe that joy is relative. Just because something doesn’t spark joy today doesn’t mean it won’t tomorrow. I’m hopeless.

That’s not to say I haven’t decided to get rid of a few things, but the manner in which they’re to be disposed of is giving me a few headaches.

I’m an avid Star Wars fan, and have collected dozens of action figures, plush toys, calendars, mugs, and silly promotional items over the years. But they aren’t being displayed. Instead, they’ve just been sitting and collecting dust. I did list a couple of items on eBay:

Vintage Yoda
Vintage Max Rebo

So far, I have one bid on Max and no bites on Yoda yet, even though he’s priced dirt cheap, and is in slightly better shape than Max. I’ll end up losing money on both items, but at least someone will get some joy out of them. And I’ll likely cry when they’re gone.

One of my problems in purging stuff is deciding if if an item should be tossed, sold, or donated. Actually, the tossing is fairly straightforward. Some things don’t deserve a second chance like the chewed up, stuffing-less cat toy I discovered in a box of clothes. But also in that box was this:

Vintage pleather!

This deep pink (I stress “deep” and not “hot”) pleather suit was my grandmother’s in the 80’s. Yes, my grandmother’s, and she looked gorgeous in it. I can’t remember why she gave the suit to me, but she must’ve been in her 70’s at the time and told me then that she was keeping the matching trousers because she’d still wear them. I just love that.

I wore the ensemble once many years ago to a party, but it wasn’t “me” for a number of reasons, and now the size ten is a tad too small. Plus, it still isn’t “me.”

BUT, should I send it straight to Goodwill or might someone browsing on eBay see it and say, “My goodness! I MUST have that deep pink suit!” This is my dilemma.

I think I’ll ruminate a while longer, and honestly that suit isn’t taking up too much closet space, right?

Peace, people.

Subdued Fourth

Today we celebrated Independence Day here in the United States. Celebrated might be an overstatement in my case. I napped, having been unable to sleep last night. I did wear my special flag t-shirt most of the day, though.

Then, while Studly Doright and I were cooking our dinner of vegetable kabobs and fruit salad, I managed to get cooking oil all over the front of my shirt. I might’ve said, “Yankee Doodle Dammit!” Or something similarly patriotic as a result.

We’ll likely spend our evening watching “Shameless” on Netflix while listening to our neighbors across the lake shoot off fireworks. Is it wrong for me to hope a predicted thunderstorm might keep the ruckus to a minimum tonight? It’s not as if they have any children.

Suddenly I feel like the Scrooge of July 4th. Bah firecracker!

Peace, people.

My New Ride

Doright Manor is located in a hilly rural housing development about eight miles outside of Tallahassee, Florida. And when I say “hilly” I am not exaggerating. For as long as we’ve lived here we’ve talked about riding our bikes around the neighborhood. But that’s as far as we ever got to doing it. We could ride about a quarter of a mile and that was it.

Then my brother, Kelly, and his wife, Susan, stayed with us on their journey to Fort Meyers, Florida, and they left some items with us to be picked up when they passed through Tallahassee later in the week. Among those items was a pair of e-assist bikes. They told us to try them out, and we did. They were great fun. We could pedal for awhile and then take a break by using the battery power.

Studly Doright immediately began researching e-assist bikes and soon had one ordered for me.

Voila!

This isn’t a great photo, but I’ll do better next time.

Pretty cool, right? He’s now looking for a conversion kit for his bike. Until then, I might share.

Peace, people.

The Eyes Have It

On Saturday afternoon Studly Doright and I drove out to the Tallahassee RV Park to meet up with my brother and sister-in-law who were spending the night there before moving on with their big adventure.

They’d stopped by on Monday on their way to Fort Myers, Florida, where they’d pick up their new Airstream trailer. After several days of orientation and practice with their new trailer they were ready to hit the road. First, though, they needed to collect a few things they’d left at our house. Rather than have them drive all the way to Doright Manor and back to the RV park, we loaded their stuff into Studly’s pickup and met them at the park.

Their new trailer is beautiful—very posh and spacious. We enjoyed wine and cheese with them and their adorable dog, Gus.

That’s my brother, Kelly, dog, Gus, and me.
Look at Gus’s eyes. I think he’s a bit leery of his Aunt Leslie.

We had a wonderful dinner with Kelly and Susan before bidding them goodbye and safe travels. Kelly says he’ll start a blog about their journey. If he does, I’ll share it with you all. It’s bound to be good.

Peace, people!

Some Days

Today was one of those days. My younger brother and his wife stayed the night with us on their way from Houston. Texas, to Fort Myers, Florida, where they’re going to pick up their brand new Airstream travel trailer.

They had their adorable dog, Gus, with them, so we kept our cat sequestered in the master suite last night. The two were aware of each other, but no one got chased and neither of them puked from nervousness, and we had a great visit with family.

It was a win-win. Still, I didn’t sleep well, and having the cat on my chest all night didn’t help much.

After breakfast at a local cafe our guests headed to Fort Myers and I came back to Doright Manor for a nap. The cat settled in beside me on the sofa in the den, and within minutes I was out like a light for the better part of two hours.

When I awakened it was as if I were in an alternate universe. The sky was dark, and I wondered if I’d slept the day away. I hadn’t. But a storm had blown in while I was napping making early afternoon look like nighttime.

I looked at the calendar on my watch fearing that I’d forgotten an appointment with the insurance adjuster, but realized that wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow. Then I began thinking about the carpet I’d ordered. It was supposed to have arrived on the 19th. Today’s the 23rd. Hmmm.

The carpet company had required a deposit. Had I made one? I couldn’t remember. I knew I’d gone to their office to do so, but couldn’t remember actually making a payment. The checkbook didn’t have an entry either. Had I used a credit card? Suddenly I was certain that the reason my carpet hadn’t yet arrived was that it had never been ordered because I hadn’t paid a deposit.

I called the store, “Hi, this is Leslie Noyes. I think I ordered carpet from you, but I can’t remember actually making a deposit.”

The woman on the other end laughed, sort of, “We can sure check.”

A couple of seconds later she read off my address and said, “Yes, it appears you paid a deposit using your credit card, and we’re just awaiting delivery of your carpet.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or humiliated or worried for my sanity. I’m going to blame it all on the lack of sleep and the lengthy nap I took this afternoon. I’m going to avoid using sharp objects, though, for the remainder of the day.

Peace, people!

Cristobal, oh Cristobal

A tropical storm named Cristobal is playing havoc with weather here in the Florida panhandle, dropping torrential rains and stirring up occasional tornadoes. We’ve had a brief respite from the storm this morning, and I’d get out and run some errands while the sun shines, but there’s a paint crew working inside the house to cover up the holes plumbers created while fixing our water leak. I feel like Roseanne, Roseanna Danna.

“If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”

This afternoon the rain is predicted to return and continue through the weekend. We’ve been in drought conditions for several months, so the rain is welcome, but I worry that mushrooms will begin growing out of my ears if the storm lasts much longer.

If we have to have a tropical storm at least this one has a musical name. Cristobal always makes me think “crystal ball” and when I picture the storm in my head I see this:

I hope the fortune teller sees an end to Cristobal in the crystal ball in the near future.

Peace, people!