It’s early Sunday morning on what promises to be a beautiful day in the Florida panhandle. Studly is on his way to the golf course, and I’m considering a trip to St. George Island. I just can’t make up my mind.
Pros: Sun, sand, waves, pelicans, beautiful views
Cons: Driving distance (about an hour and 45 minutes each way), potential for sunburn (going solo, there’s no one to apply suntan lotion to my delicate, lily-white skin)
I’ll ruminate in the shower and then flip a coin until I get the answer I want. Don’t laugh; it’s a tried and true method.
Last evening Studly Doright, my husband of 44.5 years, found a YouTube video about extraordinarily large animals. The video seemed dated—like something one might’ve watched on an old projector on a snow day in elementary school, but I couldn’t persuade Studly to find another program.
There were some interesting segments in the video. For example, a Great Dane named Zeus who, when standing on his hind legs, measured 7 feet, 4 inches tall.
Zeus died in 2014 at the age of five. 😢
And a longhorn named Poncho Vila (their spelling, not mine), who boasted the widest horn spread of any living steer.
But those animals didn’t haunt my dreams. These did:
That’s a worm!
South African earthworms can grow up to 22 feet long, with an average length of six feet. I woke up in a cold sweat this morning with the words, “The worm has turned” lingering in my mind. Eww!
Of course that made me curious about the origin of the phrase. I turned to Wikipedia for an answer— “Even a worm will turn” is an expression used to convey the message that even the meekest or most docile of creatures will retaliate or seek revenge if pushed too far. The phrase was first recorded in a 1546 collection of proverbs by John Heywood, in the form “Treade a worme on the tayle, and it must turne agayne.” Wikipedia
Well that was reassuring. Note to self: Treade not upon a worme’s tayle.
Tonight before bedtime I’m going to suggest a nice documentary about how bread is made or scenes depicting paint drying on a garden wall. Just no more giant worms, please.
Sunday evening Studly Doright and I decided to go out for dinner at our favorite Asian restaurant in Tallahassee. The place was really busy, but they were still maintaining social distancing protocol. We had a nice meal and didn’t linger since others were waiting for a table.
We walked out of the restaurant and I hesitated on the sidewalk because the driver of a pickup truck was maneuvering to back into a spot adjacent to the path we needed to take to get to our own vehicle.
Studly said, “Why’d you stop?
Me: Because there’s no curb and I don’t want him to back over me.
Studly praised me. You see he’s always saying I have awareness issues. “Maybe you’re learning something after all these years.”
The pickup came to a complete stop and Studly and I continued on to our Lincoln SUV. Well, Studly did. I tried to get into a similarly colored Chevy van. So much for conquering my awareness issues. Sheesh.
There was a time many years ago when Studly Doright and I found ourselves in dire financial straits. He’d been laid off from his job at a natural gas plant, and the small business we’d sunk all of his severance pay into wasn’t making enough money to support our little family.
We held things together, barely, thanks to Studly’s ability to juggle our finances, but there was never money for extras. And, heaven forbid that one of us get sick. Thank goodness we were all healthy and that Studly had the ability to handle just about any emergency.
One Easter things were particularly tough. The kids needed Easter clothes and there was no money for that. A local kids’ clothing shop had a drawing and I, who have never won a darned thing in my life, entered and then forgot all about it.
Lo and behold, I won that contest. I can’t remember the details, but the amount of the prize was exactly enough to buy two outfits, one for each of our kids. Looking back, I’m almost certain that one of the owners of the shop made sure that I won.
Weren’t they cute? I’m not sure whose backyard we were in, though.
Times are a great deal easier for us now, but that Easter holds a special place in my heart, thanks to the angel that made it possible.
Studly Doright was puttering around in the kitchen this evening when I heard him shriek. Studly’s shrieks are so cute.
The little guy above jumped out from behind my fruit basket and onto the counter where Studly was assembling our baked potatoes. Since I’m the resident critter wrangler, I attempted to corral the lizard so I could take him outside, but the little guy thought I meant him harm, so he made a run for it and disappeared into the cabinet.
I might never open a cabinet door again. I’m not sure my heart could stand the surprise.
On Netflix, there’s this show called Ginny & Georgia. It’s full of teenage angst, and oddly enough, one of Studly Doright’s golf buddies suggested that we watch it. Weird, right?
We’ve now watched four episodes and while we agree it’s a cute show, we aren’t sure why the hell we’re watching it. I almost feel like a voyeur watching a bunch of cute teenaged kids running around doing things I certainly never got to do as a teenager.
Maybe I’m jealous. Okay, of course I’m jealous. I was so meh as a teenager that the opportunities to do the kinds of things the kids on this show do were never made available to me. BUT, I had a really good high school experience. Maybe I wasn’t Miss Popular, but I had a great group of friends and the worst trouble I got into was staying out too late on graduation night the year I was a sophomore. Such a badass.
On our drive to the Texas panhandle Studly Doright and I stopped in Wichita Falls to pick up our son and grandson. We spent a night at our son’s apartment there and took in some of the sights.
I didn’t take many pictures, but I couldn’t resist this amazing street art that was just a few blocks from our son’s office in the historic downtown district.
Studly Doright grew up riding dirt bikes along the banks of the Canadian River north of Amarillo, Texas. In his youth, most weekends were either spent there or at a local motocross track. He was quite the dashing racer in his day. This past week he, along with a few family members and friends, returned to the Canadian River for a couple of days of adventure riding.
But it’s been a few years since Studly plied his skills riding at the river, and the bike he’d intended to ride, the lightweight Kawasaki KDX, wouldn’t idle correctly, so instead he rode his backup bike, a much heavier Suzuki DR 650. By the second day of riding, the weight of the 650 became a liability, and he crashed a few times. Studly isn’t accustomed to crashing.
To add insult to injury, one of those crashes landed him in a cactus. In the photo below, he’s engaged in removing cactus needles from his glove. Ah! Good times.
He said it took an hour to get all the needles out.
From left, our son Jason, my husband, Studly Doright, and our grandson, Jackson.
Studly Doright and I were in the Texas panhandle this past week. On our way to his mom’s place in Hereford, Texas, we stopped for the night in Wichita Falls where we picked up our son and his son, and loaded up their motorcycles.
The three of them, along with a carefully selected group of friends and family members, embarked on two days of motorcycling along the Canadian River just north of Amarillo.
It was our grandson, Jackson’s, first real riding experience. Outside of riding a little motorcycle around our yard at Doright Manor, Jackson had never really gotten to experience what motorcycling is all about—the hills and gullies, deep sand and water crossings. This week he encountered all of the above while learning to use a clutch and shift gears. By all accounts he acquitted himself admirably.
His Poppa, aka Studly Doright, had a blast riding with him and with our son, Jason. They’re already saying, “Next year….”
Studly Doright and I finished watching The Wire last night. Wow, what a great series! For some reason, though, we both thought the show ran for eight seasons, so we were totally shocked when it ended after season five.
Now we have to search for a new series. That’s always tough, especially when the one we’ve just finished watching was outstanding in every way.
So now what? I’ve suggested the sci-fi series, The Expanse. I’ve read all the books by James S. A. Corey, and they are excellent. Studly isn’t as into sci-fi as I am, so I’m going to have to campaign extra hard for that one.
And then there’s Big Sky based on the novel The Highway by C. J. Box. The book was so good, but I haven’t heard much yet about the series other than a few grumbles about casting choices from other readers of the book.
We’ve watched and enjoyed Breaking Bad, Peaky Blinders, Shameless, Godless, Hell on Wheels, Schitt’s Creek, Ozark, Better Call Saul, The Queen’s Gambit, Band of Brothers, Lost in Space, The Mandalorian, and probably a few more I can’t recall.
And we tried watching Longmire, Yellowstone, and The Good Place, but couldn’t get into those. Studly wouldn’t enjoy Downton Abbey, or The Crown, and I doubt I could coax him into watching Bridgerton; although, that one intrigues me.
So, what’s next? Is there a gem out there that we’ve overlooked? If we don’t find something else soon, I’ll be forced to watch motorcycle videos on YouTube. Help.
Praying for Eyebrowz 