Another Day in Paradise

In addition to the cold (for us anyway) and the recurring torrential rains, our county is on the list for Governor Skeletor's emergency declaration after two cases of Zika virus (out of 9 or 10 statewide) were reported here. Not sure what that entails since we already have a very robust anti-mosquito program in our county although its current effectiveness may be negated by all the rain. It does mean that the disease may now spread locally since the most common transmission vector is for the mosquitoes to pick up the virus by biting an infected person and then transmit it by biting uninfected folk.

We are, of course, home to 80(!) different species of mosquitoes, 33 of which think people and/or their pets are tasty, of which 13 can spread diseases among us including Aedes aegyptii, which spreads Zika and Aedes albopictus, which could if it wanted to.

Also, the red tide's back—with a vengeance. Thanks to all the rain (see above), the Corps of Engineers has been releasing torrents of water from an overflowing Lake Okeechobee into our main river washing tons of farm runoff nutrients downstream and into the Gulf (note the concentration of red dots) to feed the algae. The algae then overbreed, their vast numbers causing the red color, using up the available oxygen in the water suffocating the fish. Wave action also causes some algal cells to go airborne where they can cause respiratory problems in people.

The good news is the water has probably been cold enough to discourage the brain eating amoeba and flesh eating bacteria.

Meanwhile, back on land, while avoiding the bears and wild hogs and pythons and nile monitor lizards and tegus, it might be wise to note the discovery of a crocodile in town just visiting the beach. Which, for the record, makes us the only area in the world to have both alligators and crocodiles wandering around.

But, what the heck, come on down for a visit. If the wildlife doesn't kill you a tornado or sinkhole just might!

Taking the Plunge

Two women from the county clerk's office were at the library today when I stopped in. They had set up their voter registration table off to the side of the entryway. They get to be inside the foyer. The Christians are set up just outside in the shade of the arcade which is nice for them in the summer but our high temperature today was 68°F (20°C) and that was at sunrise. It's been dropping since and it's very windy out there.

I walked right past the county folks at first but turned around when I realized this is now 2016 and the primaries are coming up soon. I have been thinking of registering with a party to either vote for Bernie Sanders, who I really like, or, in an attempt to monkeywrench the Republicans, Donald Trump.

The incredibly helpful women (possibly employees, possibly volunteers, I didn't ask) had the necessary form (indeed, a full stack of them. Are there that many people choosing sides this time around?) right on the table. Although a different form, it asked the same information as a new voter registration form (which they also had in abundance) and took all of three minutes to fill out.

The only reason it took me that long is because I hesitated when I got to the choosing party section. There was a check box for "Democratic Party," and one for "Republican Party," one for "No Party Affiliation" which is totally redundant since not checking any of the boxes automatically results in the default "no party affiliation" status, and the last box, "Minor Party," with a space for the voter to fill in the name of the minor party of choice. (There were no suggested minor party names, i.e., Green, Libertarian, etc., which makes me wonder if I could just make up any party name I wanted and have that listed on my voter registration card.)

Anyway, I hesitated over which path to choose, support good or fight evil. I finally decided that, if I am going to start receiving political junk mail—and I know I will, now—I really don't want to see xenophobic fear-mongering, religious pandering and/or economic nonsense.

I am a proud new—officially registered—member of the Florida Democratic Party.

Go Bernie!

Still Like a Lion

Another thunderstorm came roaring through yesterday. This one's center was a bit south of us although we did get enough rain to fill the swale (yay, the moat is back!) and roaring winds interspersed with unnerving spots of dead calm.

The radio kept interrupting programming with announcements of severe thunderstorm warnings (as last time, redundant), sometimes as frequently as every three minutes. The announcing voice was robo-generated and listed, with curious and amusing pronunciation, a long and slowly shifting roster of affected counties as the storm moved east.

The tornado warning showed up about an hour into the storm warnings. By then the bulk of the storm was away south between the coast and the airport. Shortly after, the rain stopped in our area and the clouds broke.

The Christmas grapefruit tree required re-righting, again.

I didn't realize another tornado had touched down until I saw the paper today. They don't list the intensity so I assume it was weaker than the one that touched down here last week but it did manage to cause severe, although extremely localized, damage to an apartment complex and closed the airport for a while. And then overbooked the airport as the storm moved east and flights destined for Miami were diverted here.

There was extensive flooding as well and, judging by the sheer number of photographs of the fourteenth hole at the Whiskey Creek Golf Course, somebody lost their tee time and is taking it rather personally.

It also managed to chase a pair of retired snowbirds back to Ohio. Wimps.

The weather folks are trying to get ahead of the curve and are predicting severe thunderstorms with possible tornado for tomorrow.

In Like a Lion

I was watching one of the playoff games Saturday night when I realized the background sound I was hearing wasn't the air-conditioning, which has been off for some time now, but a steady pouring rain. Then the lightning and thunder started.

A cold front had come through earlier. It was sheeting down amid gusting winds so I checked to make sure all the windows were closed. They weren't but the ones that were open were only cracked a bit and not enough to let the rain in. Most of the lightning was comfortably off in the distance, but one bolt did strike close enough to rattle the entire house.

The local weather people (I do not usually watch that channel and have no idea who they might be other than a conventionally beautiful TV couple) came on during a break in the action to let us know about a severe thunderstorm warning for our area (bit late on that one) and a tornado warning (good to know but, since it's pitch dark outside, between the sound of the rain and thunder how will I know if there is one before it hits?) and also to reassure us that their continuing planned interruptions will not mean that we miss even one second of the game (we have our priorities after all).

The storm passed, and so did the weather announcements, before the game was over and it wasn't until the next day I found out, in addition to about three inches of rain, we did indeed have a tornado in town.

Most of the "tornadoes" we get occur during the summer and are little more than glorified waterspouts coming in off the gulf. Mom did get pictures of one once that came ashore and tossed a few cars around.

This was a real tornado. EF2. The news said it covered a distance of over three miles but, if so, it must have started offshore and worked its way through the coastal swamp first because the affected area seems to be only a mile or so long and is only about three, maybe four, miles away from our house as the egret flies. Most of the damage appears to be roofs, trees, cars, fences and power lines although even that they're totaling out at over $6 million. No deaths, fortunately. No serious injuries. Not impressive for any plains folk but, still, it's the biggest tornado in over 60 years here.

As for us, the storm knocked over the grapefruit tree I gave my brother for Christmas but that doesn't count since he hasn't gotten around to planting it yet and it's still sitting in its bucket just outside the lanai doorway. And for the record, yes, I did take the two seconds to tip it back upright again.

The MOOC and Me: Destroyer of Time

I have been remiss in posting to the blog, and much else besides, thanks to the latest homework assignment from my on-line programming course.

The last problem set was relatively easy and a great deal of fun: designing a financial services web page. This set, building a shuttle bus "game" is making me crazy. I just know the solution is much, much simpler than I am able to come up with and my Rube Goldberg construction is an ugly mess. And doesn't work. Right now, it insists on picking up only the passenger at the alphabetical end of the list of possible passengers. Which, admittedly, is an improvement on refusing to pick up anyone at all.

The problem is, the course deadline is the end of the year, and includes a final project which I haven't even begun to seriously think about, and I've already skipped over one problem set that was taking way too long and throwing the schedule into impossibility. The syllabus is not clear on the consequences if I can't submit at least a partial final project in time. I have no idea how the kids manage to do this in a 12 week course (with other classes!). I'd be living in the TA's office.

My consolation is that this is my favorite time of the year for food so when I start to get all cross-eyed at the screen I can just sit back with a large mug of tea, a plate of crackers with a wedge of brie and a pear and another plate of dried figs, dates, pistachios and a section of pomegranate. In a previous incarnation or two I was either French or Persian (or both).

The weather has been cold enough lately that the cats have discovered I can provide other services beyond provisioner of food and water and have started climbing into bed with me to absorb the warmth which is fine except that it's impossible to turn over with a cat wedged behind one's knees.

I just bought four pounds of butter and a new jar of cinnamon. Baking time! One batch of chocolate chip cookies is done. Oatmeal raisin is next on the list and, by then, we'll be well into Thanksgiving week cooking.

Over 200 Served, Not Counting the Cops

Last night began with my brother cursing (one of his favorite pastimes) and vowing never to honor this holiday again (totally not to be taken seriously) because the wind kept threatening to blow over the balloons and even the zombies, and the blower motors inflating the balloons were worn out and there were no viable batteries to power the zombies' eyes and moans, pretty much all of which was true but irrelevant since the real problem was that, as usual, he left everything to the last minute, didn't do any pre-installation checking (re: batteries and motors) and, even on the morning of the day, wasted an hour or two (I wasn't home at the time) chopping down a bougainvillea that was encroaching on the lanai--and had been for several years so why it had to come down right then who knows.

There's no point engaging him when he gets like this so I just let him run his course and assumed the wind would die down once the sun set (it did) and the motors would be more effective when the air cooled (they were). The battery problem was solved when he ran off to the store as the first kids were arriving and bought a jumbo pack of AAs. 

Meanwhile the pillaging hordes started to trickle in about 4:30. Our first visitor, a teenage female pirate, was followed by a five-year-old female doctor. I was kind of disappointed that a lot of kids really didn't seem to put much effort into their "costumes" although the first pirate was very good and there were a number of passable ghouls, super heroes (both male and female) and even a couple of classic Ghostbusters. A couple of kids had corrugated cartons on their heads and I assumed they were Box Trolls but, when I said that to one she sounded very disappointed and sighed, "No, I'm a robot," and turned on the flashing rotating lights in her eye and mouth spaces. I think I might have gotten that correct if they'd been on to start with. The most original was a five- or six-year-old orange Crayola crayon. Second place went to a perfect little Beetlejuice being wheeled around in his stroller.

There were three distinct waves of foragers, the first starting just after sunset, the last coming through just as the police arrive around 9:10.

Did I mention that the police shut us down?

One patrol car went by very slowly on the main street early on in the evening but didn't stop. A second one came onto our street and parked just up from the main activity about 8:30 or so but that's way too early to enforce any sort of noise ordinance and we weren't that loud anyway so he left.

We can't be sure a complaint was filed since people were parking in the main road's median strip as well as on the shoulders in order to get into our street and the police may have been responding to the congestion. Comparing the ethnic diversity of our visitors with the homogeneity Neighbor Dan (who, it must be admitted had partaken of a number of shots) was not taking any chances and attempted preemptive revenge on the mean old man down the street who always complains about everything to the point of calling the police and filing reports about car horns, lawn mowing and unregistered vehicles, by taking a visiting German shepherd named Diesel for a walk and encouraging him to poop on said neighbor's lawn. Diesel was uncooperative.

Finally, three patrol cars came back around 9:20 and stayed until everything completely wound down about forty minutes later which it totally would have done anyway since we were running out of candy and the third wave was thinning out. They didn't say anything to anyone as far as I could tell but their presence was a big hint. Plus, the night was crystal clear and the temperature had dropped into the mid-60s which is a little cool for short-sleeves around here. We put the zombies safely away in the garage, my brother deflated the balloons and I went in to make a cup of hot tea.

My brother's mood had been steadily improving throughout the evening (as I knew it would) and now, operating on the theory that any party shut down by the police is by definition a success, he was delighted. By my calculations we served just north of 220 trick-or-treaters. I managed to salvage three 100 Grand bars for myself and my brother gave me two Almond Joys he acquired somewhere.

This morning is bright and sunny but the wind is howling again.

Telling Time by the Pint

It's hard to believe I've been down here in Florida this long. The blood center at the hospital just sent me my seven gallon certificate.

At 8 pints per gallon, figuring in a donation every four weeks (next one is coming up on Thursday), allowing for maybe not starting right on the first month I got here and missing a few scheduled sessions because of either forgetting to stop my aspirin in time or complications (infiltrations, a collapsed vein, etc.), I'm still coming up on five years down here.

And the worst part is, I'm getting used to it, too. A lot of the redneck behavior is starting to seem more-or-less normal. I'm beginning to understand (although, thankfully, not yet sympathize with) the local politics. The endless procession of identical sunny days. 65F seems downright chilly, now, when the sun is behind clouds.

I may have to move back to someplace with seasons.

New Year, Same Us

Looks like the New Year just turned on a dime.

It started the way it ended: warm, slightly humid, cloudy. Yesterday a cold front moved through. Perhaps it's a "cold front" since it can't compare to the deep freeze people are going through in the rest of the country, but our temperatures did drop 20 degrees over the course of two hours and rain came in wiping out the humidity. The crescent moon was out but I've become a wimp since moving down here and it was too damn cold to use the telescope.

The house got down to 65F last night but a warming trend is forecast for the weekend and it's going to have to stay "cold" for a lot longer before we break down and turn on the heat. Undershirts, long sleeves (my brother broke out a flannel shirt I didn't even know he owned) and sweaters for outdoors are more than sufficient for us although the cats, despite their fuzziness, are not happy. This is the kittens' first winter and they don't know what to make of it. That, and the Christmas tree coming down, is confusing them no end. At least the cooler weather has convinced the library to finally turn off their air conditioning.

The cold did do in my car battery and I had to have my brother come down to the deli where it died and jump start it. New battery, new posts, new left headlight (coincidence) and we're good to go.

Meanwhile, I find out my brother ran a stop sign on a deserted* road where only one directional turn is permitted . . . and managed to get caught. So he now has his first moving violation in over 20 years, a $167 fine (Who makes up these numbers? What's the logic?) and has to take an on-line remedial driver's course. I presume that's to keep points off his license.

And I forgot my platelet donation was scheduled for the second and went ahead and took my aspirin on the first. I was scheduled for two donations this month but now we'll only do the one on the 30th. I feel bad about that.

Happy New Year!

*except for the lurking cop who caught him.

Immunized and Released By Order of the Judge

The County Clerk's office requires those summoned to jury duty to log in to the clerk's website the evening before the scheduled date in order to determine if attendance is really required. Out of curiosity, I logged in early and caught the requirements for last Friday. Numbers 1 through 81 were to show up Friday morning at the court house, numbers 82 and above were excused.

My number was 374, to check in Monday evening for a possible Tuesday call up. I figured my dry run last week paid off and I was as good as home free. Dutifully, I checked again after 5 p.m. for my cohort. The new instructions were: Numbers 1 through 891 to report. All higher numbers excused.

891?!

How many notices did they send out for today? I wasn't even close! I went to bed early, slept fitfully, got up in the dark and arrived with time to spare.

After going through security (slightly more efficient and less intrusive than the airport) I arrived in the large jury room which was hung with landscapes and already almost full. A quick count revealed fewer than 300 seats. The folks running the show explained that there were outside phone lines we could use, restrooms in the room and a cafeteria down the hall which they now decided to use as an overflow room. They moved close to 50 people down there and our room rapidly filled up again.

Just after 8 a.m., they began registering us by hundreds. They were extremely efficient but there also seemed to be a lot fewer than a hundred people in each hundred called. The man in charge kept repeating the phone, restroom and cafeteria instructions and asking if everyone had registered as some folks were still straggling in. One woman said she wasn't registered yet, but when she went up to the desk they discovered she was at the wrong court house.

Just after 8:30, they announced that at least one of the judges wanted to "get started early" and that the bailiffs would be coming down any minute for the first group. We would be assembled by our numbers and sent out with the bailiffs in packets of eighteen. When the first jury was assembled they called the numbers randomly so, once we were in the waiting room, high or low numbers meant nothing anymore. My group was the third or fourth called and, for some reason, had 25 in it. We speculated that was because we might have an important or controversial trial with a possible large number of challenges. The order we called was the order we lined up and left the waiting room and the order in which we entered the courtroom. The trip between, however, was akin to herding cats and required a third elevator when two of our stragglers missed the one they were supposed to take. I felt a little sorry for our bailiff who was an older gentleman.

We were each handed a questionnaire at the entrance to the courtroom and warned that the judge would go through it with maybe the first three or four potential jurors but, after that, the rest of us should just expect to rattle off the answers when called on. In addition to personal information (name, residence, occupational and marital status), it also asked whether we'd ever served on a jury before, whether we had family in law enforcement, and whether we or anyone close to us had been a victim of, or accused of, a crime. I was appalled to find almost half my fellow potentials answered, "Yes," to these last two, some with multiple incidents on both sides including, shootings, armed robberies, auto thefts, home invasions and one arrest for theft of chocolate milk. I hadn't realized I led such a sheltered life.

The judge introduced everyone in the freezing court room, including the uniformed bailiffs, the court reporter, the state's attorney, the defense attorney and the defendant, who was a young man looking very respectable in khakis, an Oxford shirt with tie, clean shaven and hair cut. Who knows what he might have looked like on the date of the alleged crime, but his lawyer had him spiffed up and he tried to keep an embarrassed "Hey, I don't know why we're all here, either, it must be some kind of mistake" look on his face. With some success, I must say. He was charged with three counts: On the 4th of July last, 1. Breaking and entering a dwelling, 2. Breaking and entering a conveyance, and 3. Petit theft (less than $100). So much for the important, controversial case.

The judge explained the general workings of the system and the legal definition of Reasonable Doubt and interrogated us in turn from the questionnaire. The gentleman one over from me really didn't want to serve and claimed he was biased against the entire system and didn't believe the state should even have prosecutors but should leave everything up to the police. The judge was exceedingly skeptical. I thought the guy was trying too hard and expected it to backfire on him. When asked if he could turn up the thermostat, the judge explained that the county works on some sort of Stalinist centralized HVAC system involving a large facility somewhere in the county resembling a NORAD or NASA launch control center and if the one guy who controls that is happy it doesn't matter what anyone else feels.

Then the state's attorney questioned us individually, generally on the theme of "Do you hold any sort of grudge against the state or the police that might prejudice your judgment?" (The gentleman one over from me claimed he did by virtue of a previous arrest.) He ended with an explanation of the minimum he had to prove in the case using a hamburger analogy (if the judge defines a hamburger as bun, patty and ketchup, the fact that you prefer bacon, cheese and mushrooms is irrelevant as long as the prosecution provides a bun, patty and ketchup) which was unfortunate as it was getting on toward noon and breakfast had been a good seven hours ago.

The defense attorney then took his turn questioning us. He had fewer questions for select people but ended by expanding on the DA's hamburger, explaining that even if the state did give us our bacon, cheese and mushrooms, if they left off the ketchup we must acquit. I think even the bailiffs were salivating at that point.

We were ushered out of the court room while they made their selection, which took less than half the time they warned us it would, and then back in again to hear the results. Seven jurors were chosen, four white women, two white and one black men. No explanation was given for their selection. They were sat down in the jury box, sworn in then and there with promises to "truly and faithfully try" right out of Gilbert and Sullivan's Trial by Jury, and the rest of us were sent on our merry ways with the declaration from the judge that we were "immunized from this date for the next 364 days" from any further summons to duty.

We broke out of there into the hot sunlight like kids on the last day of school. I hope the kid really is innocent of the charges. I'll have to check the newspaper over the next few days.

Dry Run, With Scenic Benefits

I went for a drive this morning, testing the timing and directions in case I really do have to show up at the county courthouse next Tuesday for jury duty. The instructions say to call Monday evening after 5p.m. to find out if my number's been called, and it may not be in which case I'm apparently off the hook, but if it is I'm supposed to be there at 8a.m. and I sure don't want to get lost or be delayed by rush hour traffic on the way.

I left the house later than I'd intended and without the written directions on the notice itself and missed a turn I know I should have taken, although the route I took seemed not to take any longer and may, in fact, be a viable alternative, and still managed to get there with time to spare. Frankly, I expected a lot more traffic for the middle of rush hour. The only really annoying part of the trip was driving directly into the sunrise.

On the return trip, of course, I had the road pretty much all to myself. The sun was at my back, the temperature was rising through the seventies on its way to a predicted 86F (eat your hearts out everyone else in the continental deepfreeze), the Mexican clover is in full bloom, coating fields and lawns in its pale purple imitation snowfall, the construction guys have moved noticeably along in their sidewalk building although I remain confident in my prediction we will not see them at our place until well after New Year's, and the local construction-related speed trap is up and running (fines are double for speeding in a work zone when workers are working, which is all the incentive the city cops need). It's a good day.

And the fact that I took the time to ensure my readiness for jury duty probably means I won't be called after all.

Call of Duty

So it seems, between voting and donating blood, two weeks ago was my voluntary good citizenship week. My involuntary good citizenship week is next month.

I received a summons for jury duty.

It came with my exclusive juror number, directions and a map to the courthouse including exclusive juror parking lot, notification of food and beverage availability, warnings about punctuality and attendance . . . and a warning to bring a jacket because the courthouse is apparently hyper-air-conditioned and nobody can do anything about it.

I was called to jury duty once in Utah and was fairly impressed by the efficiency of the system. The light rail Courthouse stop is one block from the actual courthouse so I didn't have to drive to downtown Salt Lake City. After registering with the clerk so they knew I existed and was available all I had to do each evening for a week was call the special juror phone number and see if my number was called for the next day. When the week was up, so was my exposure. Turns out I had a very high number (or it was a slow week jurisprudentially). I never was called.

This most recent notice doesn't say anything about a weeklong obligation, only my presence requested on December 10. I don't know if the system here lets you go after one day if you're not selected or if they keep you once they've got you.

Either way, I know I've got a jacket around here somewhere.

In the Fullness of Time

This weekend my brother planted the orange tree I gave him.

For Christmas.

The poor thing has been sitting in its pot either in the lanai or out in the back yard since December 26. Who knows how long it sat in the nursery before that. (Best guess: Not nearly as long.)

At first he wanted to wait for the weather to warm up, which made sense. It would do no good to plant it if there was a chance of a freeze. Then, for a long time after any possibility of a freeze had passed, I don't know what the excuse was except the redneck tendency to never quite finish (or start) any project. At first, he said he didn't know where he wanted to put it. Later it was too hot to work outside (frequently true), then too rainy (sometimes true). Then he needed to buy fertilizer first. That took a month or so to get around to. Then he discovered irrigation pipes tangled in the roots of the (stunted) lemon tree which he originally intended to dig up and replace with the orange.

Yesterday, as I was looking out the sliding door to the lanai, I noticed the orange tree was no longer parked next to the lemon but was back in the far corner of our property past the smaller of our coconut palms. And it was in the ground. And while I was looking my brother took a gallon of water out to it. Knowing his green thumb, it will probably thrive. Of course, the tools he used are still stuck in the ground next to the tree and will be until they are eventually needed somewhere else.

I hadn't said aloud that I would never by him another plant again, but maybe he sensed it anyway.

And maybe I will reconsider.

Temperature Inversions

Now that we're officially into summer the water in the taps switches temperature. Cold runs hot and hot runs cold.

Technically, the hot water only runs cold until the water from the heater pushes the water that's been cooling down in the insulated piping through, then it warms up again. And, technically, the cold water only runs hot until the water from the outside (buried) pipes pushes the water that's been heating up in the uninsulated piping through but, until then the water from the "cold" tap can easily get over 115F. Even when the cold water finally cools down it's only to room temperature and never anywhere near the brain-achingly delicious New England well water I grew up with.

This is because our house is built on a solid concrete slab. Our pipes, once they get to the house, do not (can not) run underground but rise up and travel through the attic/crawl space and then down through the walls to the various taps. The attic with the merciless Florida summer sun beating down on it. The hot water pipes are insulated to keep the heat in which slows but does not prevent heat loss but also slows heat gain. The cold water pipes, being uninsulated absorb the full effects.

This is a common situation down here, although frequently an unpleasant surprise to visitors and new residents. I doubt any homes in the area have basements or cellars in which to place utilities. We're too close to sea level and the water table is too high.

The cats haven't figured out what to do with the ice cubes in their water dish, yet.

De Gustibus Non Est

How is it a cat that doesn't like hot dogs, shows no interest in chicken or sausage and won't drink a saucer of milk loves marinara sauce?

Bartleby found a plate my brother left in an accessible location with remnants of his pasta dinner on it. She licked up most, but not all, of the sauce and then proceeded to sit on the plate after which she became offended when I would not let her park her tomatoey butt in my lap. She spent the rest of the evening pointedly sitting with her back to me.

Meanwhile, we've had to be careful about the amount and timing of the food we put out for the little gray cat. With the recent spell of cold weather (for here, mildly cool by most other definitions) a wandering oppossum has once again discovered the lanai. I still have my official 'possum stick from last winter and have chased it away twice but leaving food out at night is just too much temptation to expect any critter to resist. So the little guy now eats during daylight hours only.

Schadenfreude. Warm, Sunny Schadenfreude

I'm sitting here with all the windows and doors open, a warm breeze wafting through from the 80+ degree sunshine outside, watching the Weather Channel folks going all weak in the knees as they swoon over Nemo and wondering if I should feel sympathy for my friends posting snow depths and pictures of the building snowpocalypse on Face Book.

Probably.

Visits, Here and There

The niece and her mom stopped by on Saturday. We intended to go mini-golfing but her mom begged off saying she had errands to run and computer stuff to do, my brother warned that he had limited time before having to go off to work, and Caitlin wanted everyone to be there so we put the expedition off until they return to town from their detour to Georgia to spend Christmas with aunts and uncles from the other side of the family. (Mom ended up hanging around and visiting all afternoon anyway. We probably could've managed two rounds.) And, maybe by then it will be a bit warmer, too.

As a result, my trip to St. Petersburg to see vacationing friends from Salt Lake was put off until Sunday. I managed to find them with only one slight detour which brought me to the tip of such a delightful barrier island that I took them on the same detour later. We ate at a diner that (unbeknownst to us beforehand) was having their regular half-off-your-bill-if-you-wear-your-pajamas-to-brunch Sunday. You could tell the regulars from the visitors by who was (over)dressed for the occasion (although most of them were wearing something under their pj's to keep warm on the trip to the restaurant).

After croissants, omelettes and French toast we ended up in downtown St. Pete along gallery row where we examined blown glass made by Chihuly and his disciples, a number of offbeat restaurants, more glass and furnishings galleries, and a couple of really funky boutiques. The sun came out and the day warmed up nicely. I found a handmade present for my sister-in-law at a tiny Moroccan place.

We were saying goodbye as I prepared to return home when we were interrupted by a raucous chorus of a half dozen green parrots on the wires directly overhead. another flock of a dozen or more circled a few yards behind them. It was a perfect send-off.

Friends and Family

This should be a busy and fun week. Not only did the world not end on this solstice, some of it is coming here to visit.

My brave and beautiful niece (the one who just had her third open heart surgery a couple of months ago) and her mom are in town from Connecticut for a few days. They came down right after Caitlin played her harp in a Christmas concert. They're staying at a house owned by her mom's sister's family. When she told me, back in November, she would be visiting she asked if we could go play miniature golf. We'll do a couple of rounds this weekend despite the cold front that just blew in. She also wanted to go swimming but I'm not so confident that's going to happen.

Following right behind said cold front are a couple of friends, now married, from back in Utah. They're going to be up in the Tampa/St. Pete/Orlando area starting this weekend assuming their flights take the southern route and don't get entangled in the winter storm disrupting the rest of the country. We'll be able to catch up on all the stuff our other friends aren't willing to post on Facebook.

I'm making cookies for everyone. Oatmeal raisin now, chocolate chip later.

And, welcome back, Sol Invictus!

Democalypse Now!

I'm feeling much better about waiting in line for almost 3.5 hours to vote early Friday. At least it was warm and sunny.

It was with some trepidation that I went to the library today knowing it is a polling place and the parking lot would be crowded. I waited to go until after a very heavy downpour had subsided to a drizzle and found the back third of the overflow lot (which had been retopped and striped just before the weekend) was open. There were over 100 drenched and soggy people outside huddled in line under the dripping eaves waiting to get inside the side door to the community room where the polls had been set up. The storm also caused the temperature to drop a good ten degrees.

During early voting, all ballots were cast at the half dozen county offices and long lines were kind of expected but now, on election day, when a third of the electorate has already voted early and there are 125 separate voting precincts in this county alone, still: the lines.

I blame, in part, the enormous ballot, including eleven proposed state constitutional amendments (the twelfth was dropped for some legal technicality) presented in their entirety in English and Spanish. Also, the fact we are a swing state (although not, this year, the swing state) makes people believe their vote might make a difference and helps to raise turnout.

By mid-afternoon, the line outdoors was gone although the community room was still full.

I don't normally make political predictions but, based on what I'm hearing and reading about people's frustrating experiences this time around, I think next time folks will remember how the governor limited voting hours and the legislature fobbed off their responsibilities to create a monster ballot. Being an incumbent might not be pleasant.

Making the Best of a Windy Situation

Even though Sandy missed us by about two hundred miles, it's big enough that the backside winds have been blowing steadily for the past four days. And, while they're from the north and dry thus giving us high clear skies and temperate days, they're also strong enough to prevent my brother from putting out any more inflatable Hallowe'en decorations or blowing up the ones that are already on the lawn.

Neighbor Dan has been unable to raise his legions either and his have been staked out since the first of the month which means the grass all around them is now almost two feet tall and what's under them is probably dead.

My brother has been receiving more Hallowe'en stuff than I knew about. There are now four life-size ethereal figures looming around the living room. Three females and one male, all close to six feet tall, with livid hands and faces and draped in linen and gauze. They can't go outside, either, until the calm returns.




We did get to make use of one of his new purchases: a skull shaped (two halves, front and back) cake pan. He brought it out last night and we made up a double batch of pound cake* batter because the skull cavities looked a lot larger than they turned out to be so, after baking, we ended up excising a lot more of the material between the two halves than we had intended in order to get them to fit together properly the result being we have most of a pound cake, in two pieces, left over which is

actually a nice problem to have.

While the width of the skull cake is almost right, especially given the extremely pronounced zygomatics, the parietal is truncated giving it something of a bullet shape when viewed from the side. It remains, nevertheless, delicious.

My brother found some black food coloring when he went out late last night for additional baking supplies, so I am leaving the skull decorating to him.

* Is a double batch of pound cake a kilo cake? Sorry.

Transitions

A number of seasons are ending and beginning just now.

Rainy Season officially ended at the beginning of the month and I optimistically began leaving my car windows open to avoid the runaway greenhouse effect resulting from parking a sealed up vehicle in the sun. Unfortunately, the actual end-of-season is a bit more raggedy and I've had to bale twice now after leaving the car open at the library. And that doesn't even count my brother very kindly not waking me when he came home late one night as it started to shower and hanging towels all over my open windows. I have no idea why he has so many towels in his truck.

Fall is approaching. It is noticeably cooler (although today it's cloudy mostly because of Hurricane Sandy way off the east coast). I watched a tribe of very tiny ants stocking up for the coming "cold" spell. Scores of them were climbing up and down a vine including four triumphantly hoisting a cockroach leg aloft as they negotiated the tendrils. To be more precise, three of them were carrying the leg. The fourth had grabbed it in such a way that it's own legs couldn't reach any surface while they were moving and it just sort of dangled along for the ride not only not helping but actively adding to the burden.

With the weather cooling down, Bartleby has decided to become an outdoor cat again. She spends her time sleeping beneath one or the other of our vehicles or, occasionally, in a lawn chair and comes in only to dine. When we open the door for her she complains loudly at our inattention for not opening it sooner and, as soon as she finishes her meal, she starts yelling at us to let her out again. I am become majordomo to the cat.

Also, the zombies have come and gone. It's an annual migration, pretty much confined to the other side of the river.

Besides, Oktoberfest is here. After a couple of days no one on this side of the river will even notice a few zombies wandering loose.