the sky is blue!  now stay that way, please.

on another note, after our five mile walk and with no other reason to leave the house today, i have happily moved into my winter flannels.  i have missed you winter woolies.

twas a wild and wooly night . . .

to be meeting Sandy on the darkened roads from there to here.  huge oak crashed to the ground covering the exit from the black parking lot.  back roads taken, waves pounding, wind swirling, rain thrashing the little roadster.  up on the highway things faring even less well.  right lanes flooded, wind shield wipers beaten back, lights out, visibility missing.  thrusting wind. blinkers flashing. heart thrumming. trees bending, onward forging. finally haven found.  take that Miss. S.

and so went my trip back from my sister-in-laws birthday party.  tears formed when everyone yelled surprise and more when she discovered her sister had been smuggled in from Ohio for the affair.  the power wasn't always cooperative but fun and feasting were aplenty.

happy birthday, jackie!

a cautionary tale . . .

this morning i got up early, jumped in the tub, put on my face and got ready to run down to the Iceplex in Rockledge to watch a grand nephew play hockey.  but first i needed to feed and love on Joanie's cats, who i have been babysitting for the last week.

as i was almost to her front door, i smelled smoke.  no surprise, the temperatures f.i.n.a.l.l.y, hit the 60's and i figured someone decided to have a fire.  went inside and played with the beasties and fed them their kibble and happened to look out in the back yard and noticed the steam coming up from the earth as the sun started to clear the trees.  then i looked again. and again.  

i tried to reach Joanie and failing that, called for reinforcements:  kidlet, her dad and the fire department, in that order.

the fire was still smoldering but out.  lucky. lucky. so lucky it was not worse.

 moral of the story?  joanie may never ask me to cat sit again. sniff. sniff. waaaaaaa.

complex activities . . .

i fell in love with the restoration of the lighthouse at Ponce Inlet.  The entire complex is stunning with displays of old articles including an exhibit on the children of the lighthouse.  Most of the buildings are completed and if you can't wander through them, at least you can peek in the homes of the keeper, first assistant keeper and second assistant keeper.  very, very cool.

here are some more shots:

 please note the little red miata in the parking lot.  she is normally camera shy.

 there is nothing i don't love about this room.

 i'm moving in as soon as it is fully restored.

 two bedrooms and a small kitchen.  more than enough.

 oops, i have no idea what this is or why i took the shot.

 the main building is now a gift shop of course.  i'd have to evict the nautical junk and lock the doors.

of course if it was to be found, i would find it.  rest in peace little buddies.

and then there was this:

it's a very complex situation.  i need to move in now . . .  you understand.

up the down staircase . . .

we marched up all 203 steps, huffing and puffing the entire way.  well, so it was just me doing the huffing and puffing and stopping at every landing.  Robin managed quiet well, thank you very much.  the top photo is looking up, the second looking down. 

Ponce Inlet Lighthouse.

I'm thinking this is not the best advertisement to find near the bottom of the climb:

who cares if it was overcast and raining.  we explored the entire complex and then moved on for fish sammies under the bridge.  we are the best trolls yet.

so you knew . . .

if there were photos, there would be a layout.  i am so glad i made the trek.

up in the air junior birdman . . .

up in the air, upside down!

i decided to drop down to Daytona today to check out the Wings and Waves Airshow.  Although the show ran from 11: 00 - 4:00, i didn't stay that long.  the temps have gone up once again and even though there was a gorgeous breeze, it was HOT.

so glad i went though.  lookie, lookie:

 

gotta love the fall in this area.  something going on every weekend.  color my camera and i happy.

remembering . . .

i realized today how defining melanoma is.  before melanoma, i referred to my husband as Mr. D afterwards it was the 9TS.  sometimes when i know i should remember him for being the wonderful soul that he was, the thought is overshadowed by the term 'melanoma patient' and i hate that.  i feel like i was robbed all over again.

well, you can't have the memories too Mel.  i refuse.  plus i have my magic ring.  and while it wasn't working for a lot of months, it is now.  all i have to do is look at it and i see us slurping beer in Mykonos, laughing at the insanity on TV, giggling to each other like fools.

in case you are new here. one Friday night after dinner at Carrabba's, the 9TS wanted to head to the mall.  he stopped at a jewelry store.  i kept on walking because he had been put on a jewelry ban.  i'm sorry but you can only have so much jewelry if you're me.  did he listen?  no.  he remembered i had once said i would really like a three stone diamond ring.  and a three stone diamond ring is what he bought me.  he said, "when I am gone and you are sad, look at the ring and remember all the good times."

well, for seven months, it hasn't worked.  i would stare at the ring that never leaves my finger, and be sad all over that he was gone.  but slowly, it is starting its magic.  i can look at it now and remember the good times.   we were silly and goofy and in love.  i loved that about us.  and  i remember it clearly and happily.

so Mel, go stick it.  in the end, you can't rob me of what i remember best: the love of my life.

ride em cowgirl!!!

that daring old bat on her flying trapeze . . .

busy day in the cave.  the city inspector finally came to sign off on the new air conditioner unit, which left Joanie and i free for one of our five mile walks, but not before i had stuffed a corned beef, taters and onions into the crock pot for dinner.

with Kidlet back again and fall on the way, i re-screened two more screens, cleaned a bunch more and went into my acrobatic routine to do the upstairs windows.

this was the easy side.  there is a slight short sloping roof outside kidlet's and my bedroom windows:

as long as you don't lean back, things are good.

but in the loft, it gets a little trickier.  one has to balance on the frame work of the pool cage to get that window and it is of course, Charlotte's most favorite:

 don't look down!

all is good, kidlet had the phone in hand, ready to call 911 should i decide to go swimming from this height.  i might have been a little happier had she not been so gleefully taking pictures.

i mangled one screen trying to get it back in place so tomorrow i will order a new one along with a new sliding screen door for the kitchen.

life is getting back in full swing.  fall is here.  all is good.

ignorance . . .

I am blistered.  Fifteen times over.  My dermatologist has struck again.  I swear she has a love affair with cryosurgery, but it's OK.  I can breathe for another six months.  While I have staved off melanoma, I still battle with basil cell and squamous cell cancers.  Something about the red hair, fair complexion and a history of sun abuse.  Who knew the dangers of baby oil laced with iodine back in the 50's.   I  also asked her about Kidlet's last biopsy.  She got the file and reassured me that they got it all.  Thank you very much.

Yeah, I am still a little jumpy.  Oh hell, I am majorly a mess when it comes to skin cancer.

GET YOURSELF CHECKED!!!!

Did I ever tell you that at the memorial, I made the pastor do a PSA for a visit to the dermatologist.  Yep, right in the middle of the service but what the heck, I had a captive audience.  I never pass over a good opportunity to get the word out.

When the 9TS was first diagnosed, his local oncologist told us he would probably lose his toe.  It was not removed for another five years.  Why the wait?  Ignorance!

Our first request to go to Moffitt was turned down by our insurance as was a request to Shands.  The 9TS liked having ten toes but mostly because we just had no comprehension of the ramifications.  We didn't understand the creativity of Mel and Anoma.  

Someone asked me recently if the toe had been removed immediately, would the 9TS have survived.  There is no answer to that.  I do know that had we had an inkling of what was to come, we would have fought an unrelenting battle.  But the truth is, we didn't know.  The local doctors didn't know.  We had no idea we didn't fight hard enough.  But having said that, the nature of the beast is such that there is no answer.

So don't bury your head in the sand.  Visit your dermatologist.  If you think you need a second opinion, get one.  Fight for your rights and fight hard.  

Done and climbing off my soap box . . . for the moment.

Wilbur and Charlotte . . .

I'm sweating worse than Wilbur in the noon day sun, realizing he's next on the dinner table.  Woo-eeee.

It's that time of year again. The windows and screens need a good scrubbing.  Between general dirt and grime, Charlotte has had her babies and their webs are everywhere.

Loaded with a bucket of soapy water, two squeegees, a rag, hose and screw driver, I attacked the front windows.  Getting the screens down was the easy part.  The hard part came when trying to get them all back in after the sun as decided to beat down furiously much too early.

By the time I got the last one in, I was dripping more than the hose and feeling more than a little light in the head.  Maybe I'm supposed to hire someone to do this???  Naw, what fun would that be?  None of this:

 and this:


Where's the fun in that????   Oink, Oink!

I apologize Charlotte, but we talked about your offspring building between the windows and the screens.  Not acceptable.

Now I need to attack the back of the house and then upstairs.  I think they can wait a day or two.

on cleaning the litter box . . .

not one of my most favorite jobs around the house but who wants to use a dirty toilet . . .  I only have one litter pan for three cats but before you report me to the litter box per cat ratio police, that one litter pan is a bit over sized.  In fact, in real life, it is an under the bed storage unit minus the lid. 

Why so big?  I'm glad you asked.  When you're dealing with a cat the size of a bull dog, and he puts his front feet in the box to dig the perfect resting place for his um, presents, then in all likelihood, the end, from which said presents issue, is surely hanging over the far end of the box.  The thing I dislike more than removing sand encrusted goodies from the box is removing non-encrusted goodies from the floor.  And that is why we have a storage box for litter.

Now mostly, my creatures stay clear of me when I head to the box with a plastic bag and an old slotted spatula.  They somehow think I won't realize it is them leaving these little biscuits for removal as long as they aren't caught in the act.  And that's the way it has been in all my years of being owned by cats.

Until . . .  Pippin came along.  Now if you are not familiar with Pippin, she is not really a cat.  She is a squirrel in a cat suit and by God, one of these days, I will find that zipper.  She is tiny for a cat.  Perfectly squirrel sized. She frisks about all day running up and down the stairs, over furniture, under beds and under foot.  A squirrel.

Pippin has a propensity for being wherever I am.  Not that she wants to necessarily cuddle . . . that comes late at night after she is totally exhausted . . . but no matter what room I am in, there is Pippin.  And that includes the laundry room where lives said litter box.

So this morning, as most mornings, I was stooping to gather the "Easter Eggs and Jelly Beans" from the previous day when a little brown nose and two very quizzical eyes round the corner.  She watches for a bit, happy to let me do the work and then when I have cleared the end closest to her, she saunters over, sniffs around, digs a hole and while looking me straight in the eye, relieves herself.  Since this is a regular game we play, I scoop up her offering before she can even turn around.  It befuddles her time and time again.  You can see her brain churning.  "Hey, I just peed.  Where the heck is it?"  She starts digging in all directions, finally looking at me mournfully.  "I left you a present, mom, but I lost it.  I don't understand." 

It makes me smile.  My poor perplexed squirrel in a cat suit has been bested.  But in true Pippin fashion, she has pranced away and will be back shortly  . . . as soon as she realizes she is not in the same room with me.