I Came Home Why?

Oh, yeah...because Ohio was hot, the Internet failed mid-week, and the cats were getting lonely.

Sigh.

It was a good trip, I just got in, have to get the Evil Genius settled. My feet are poofy from the heat, humidity, and what felt like several years in the van, driving home.

I may not have Internet for a while - the phones are already turned off (how lovely to come home to that) and the Net is sure to follow...but tomorrow I will try my dangdest to get things rolling again. If AT&T isn't willing to work with me, though, it'll be a while before I'm cruising the Blue Nowhere again.

Double sigh. Anyone have a rich uncle who'd like to adopt??

Hot, Hot, Hot

SO we're in Ohio.

You'd think Ohio would be pleasant this time of year..

You wouldn't think it would be hotter than Satan's sweat socks.

Ahem.

We had a lovely drive up, although I wondered if South Carolina was ever going to end. Please don't be offended, SC - you're a perfectly nice state, but when the kid in the back seat is anxious to get to Ohio and keeps asking if we're in a new state yet...well...maybe you could put yourself on a diet, skinny up a little?

Friday night we stayed at a local motel, and wound up watching something tantamount to COPS outside our room. Ahh, small town entertainment.

Yesterday we set up our campsite. To say it was warm would be to understate severely. I could have wrung out my top! Someone was sans shirt almost immediately. We had a nice day - even the Evil Genius was happy because there were scads of other kids his age to play with. He's off with them now, I have no idea where.

Last night I fell asleep to drumming.

I would post photos, but I forgot the camera dock, so it'll have to be words until I get home or think of an alternative.

I am sweating just sitting here typing, and it's not even the hottest part of the day. Whew. Ohio, what's up??

I'm waiting for some others to arrive so we can set up the vend site. Grooooaaaaannnn. Hot...whimper...

For those interested, my band's concert schedule for this event:
Wednesday, 5 - 6 at the cafe
Thursday - 8 PM, Main Stage
Friday - Noon at the cafe

We may be broadcast live, and if so it'll be through PaganSpace.net.

Now, whether you'll excuse me or not, I need to go corral the Evil Genius, apply more sunscreen, and figure out how to get a new air mattress...ours died beneath us as we slept last night, and that trailer floor is not notoriously comfortable!

Holy Carp, It's Friday???

Whew - how'd a week go by? I'm still trying to get everything packed for our trip. We leave in eight hours for Ohio, ten days camping, singing, and generally being pagan in a reclaimed strip-mine. I'll have Bob with me and hope to post now and then. I have, for once, NOT pre-written any posts. Whoah. Life's hectic just now and I didn't have the time.

I HAVE arranged for a friend to water the garden and houseplants, and to play with all the cats and tell them how marvelous they are so they won't feel completely abandoned. I'm blessed with some amazing friends, I must say.

OK, enough foolin' around...I am almost done loading the trailer and van, just a few last-minute odds and ends, and then a few dishes to do, and then a shower and bed.

Did I say whew? Yeah...

Dominica

Dominica (Domineeca, not Dominihca) is a beautiful little volcanic island. She doesn't have any beaches to speak of - most of her charms are wild, rugged - hiking in the rain forest, taking a canopy tram, river tubing, or taking a tour of the island in general.

And, of course, there's sailing...
We took a driving tour. The roads are bumpy as Hell, and narrow enough to cause more than one gasp as we cornered and faced oncoming traffic. Our driver has a future in rally racing. I didn't take as many pictures as I'd have liked - hard to catch anything while driving ninety-miles-per-hour over what feels like roads made of speed bumps.

I did learn a few things about the island - they are keen on Cricket: And they are poor. The median annual income is $1,500 ($US). Unemployment is at 40%. Crime has climbed from 1% to 4% in recent years, due largely to drugs (cocaine). Much of the housing looks like this:Or worse.

There is a definite difference between the Haves:And the Have-Nots: I thought the island beautiful. I thought the poverty heartbreaking. Boarding our huge ship full of every luxury imaginable, probably throwing away more food in one meal than a Dominican sees in a month...put things in perspective.

A Short Visit to St. Thomas

On St. Thomas, we went to the beach...Coki beach, a place we've visited before and enjoyed immensely.

Look, I saved you a seat:

Ahh...what a view...

And the natives are a friendly lot...

The Blues (In Half-Moon Cay)

"The Blues" takes on a whole new meaning in the Bahamas (where Half Moon Cay is located):

These blues I could live with:

Into deeper water, now - St' Thomas, here we come!
Nope, these blues aren't bad at all...I'd be happy to have 'em again and again...

Caribbean Hues (Cay Colors)

No, not really - not without Someone and the Evil Genius I wouldn't...but I can see why people would feel that way...

Colors everywhere, bright and warm, cool and breezy, delighting the eye...

Everywhere jewels, glistening in the sun...

I took nearly one thousand photographs. Don't panic - I don't intend to bore you with show them all here...just a few from each of the beautiful places we visited on our ten day quiltstravaganza.

Glimpses of Half Moon

Our ship, the Noordam:
A little flora greeting winter-weary travelers at the dock:
This reminds me of something...hmm...:

Guess What...

I'm home - bless Mums heart for pulling a marathon style drive and letting me bring us on in to Casa de Crazy instead of stopping for the night three hours away. Thanks to her, I got to spend an Evil-Genius-free night with my sweetheart and wake up with him on Valentine's day - the kid was with his father, and it's not like V-Day means that much to me, but it was nice...and I was beyond ready to be home. I had a lovely time (despite the lack of free wi-fi) and will happily bore you to tears tell you all about it later, when I'm done unpacking and have caught up to myself.

Also, I am rather chuffed to tell you that my modest little quilt square took second place in the challenge. Squee! I am no the proud owner of twenty of the blocks (including mine and Mum's) which I may one day even turn into an quilt of some sort.

While it was a lovely cruise and I visited and learned about some beautiful places, I am glad to be home with my family - the Evil Genius returned home this evening, the cats have almost forgiven me for my prolonged absence, and Someone and I may stop grinning and touching and kissing and other mushy stuff one of these days...but probably not.

Now if you'll excuse me...I have what seems like a half-million photographs to sift through, which is the perfect way to send a day forecast to be snowy. I wonder if it's too late to get back on the boat...I could fit Someone and the Evil Genius in one suitcase and the cats in another...

Flat Aunt Becky got in on the action...

The winning square...marvelous!

And They Say Hockey Players Are Superstitious

I've heard that hockey players are so superstitious, when they win a game they repeat everything they did before that game before every following game...until they lose. Some shave, some don't, some eat the same meal...and there are tales about underwear and socks that just don't bear thinkin' about.

I have a few pre-cruise traditions that I follow, and tonight I put one into practice.

I de-fuzzed my getaway sticks.

What, TMI? Whoopsie...should have posted a warning at the top. My bad.

Anyway.

I don't generally de-fuzz the gams...why bother? I'm not overly hirsute and Someone doesn't seem put off by my lack of razor application...and I'm lazy...so why be pressed?

Except I'm very self-conscious about being in public with legs showing...so I get busy with the triple-bladed instrument of de-Yetification the night before embarking on cruisy goodness. And, since I have not yet had a ship sink beneath me, burst into flames, or be captured by dashing, plus-sized-woman-adoring pirates, I think I'll stick with my superstition tradition.

The last time I underwent this transformation was before my last cruise...several years ago.

Yes, Someone really is a remarkable man, why do you ask?

Caught up in the spirit of the moment, I even removed the Muppets from the pits of despair. I nearly shaved my head, too, but took pity on the housekeepers who have to clean the motel tub. Poor things are already going to be wondering who Naired a Schipperke in there...and that's after I rinsed the tub!

At least now I won't both blind and traumatize all the other touristas on the beach if I opt for shorts (not bloody likely!) or Capri pants (maybe, if I'm feeling bold) rather than full-length jeans or a skirt over the bathing suit. Hey, if I could swim fully clothed, I would...but then the fish look at me funny...

Tomorrow I'll wash my hair so it's all clean and purty for the obligatory embarkation and identification photos. For once I'm glad I don't look like my passport photo - it was taken some forty pounds (the wrong way) ago, and I have fewer chins.

Since it's unlikely we'll have free wi-fi on the ship (and why don't they ge on board {hah!!} with other businesses and offer that amenity? huh?? huh??)(I'm lookin' at you, Holland America), I won't be visiting the Blue Nowhere until after I am back in the good old USofA...y'all try to have fun without me, OK? And just in case you can't survive ten days without my pithy wit, I've pre-written some things to post while I'm gone. Yep, I'm that vain thoughtful.

Gee, Officer Friendly...

I was headed home when this happened...it's a bit long, but I found it funny...at least, at the time...maybe you'll be bored. Oh, well.
~~~~~
I was driving through Louisiana, on 12. I don't know why he chose me, really, but the officer said it was because I drifted over the line. Fair enough, I may have, although I don't think so. I know I wasn't speeding. Much.

I pulled onto the grass, far away from the traffic flying past, rolled down my windows, killed the engine, and waited. He sauntered up and leaned in the passenger window.

"Ma'am, may I see your license?"

Blink...blink...

I had my hands on the wheel, where he could see them. "It's in my back pocket." Georgia accent in full force, as it sometimes is when I am stressed, so it sounded like "It's iyun mah bayuck pawket."

"OK" He nodded.

I reached with my right hand, pulled out my wallet, and handed him the licence. I'm hoping the little smile he had to quash was because he thought the photo was a good one and not because the weight is clearly incorrect...by about sixty pounds the wrong direction.

"Well, Mrs. XXX (not my real name), do you know why I pulled you over?

Here's where my inner smartass really wanted out. I had to tie it up, duct tape its mouth, and shove it into a corner of my mind for the duration. In Italics are the answers I wanted to give...but didn't. You were clearly overcome by my radiance and had to stop me to gaze upon my visage, pay me homage, and beg for my phone number. "No, sir."

"You crossed the center line back there. You're not getting sleepy or driving under the influence on me, are you?"

Umm...can't you see the Gucci bags under my eyes?? Two iced teas (one of them a BK mega sized one) and two Vault sodas aren't doing it for me, but this little interlude sitting in the heat chatting with officer friendly is sure to help. "No, sir."

"Are you carrying any knives or guns with you today?"

Dang - left 'em home with the explosives and map of Fort Knox. "Only my cheese knife in the back, sir, in one of the bags." I use my fingers to measure the length, maybe two inches at best.

He smiled and shook his head.

"But other than that, I don't have any knives or firearms in here, sir."

He poked his head a little further in the window. "Are you alone in here, ma'am?"

Nope, I have the voices to keep me company. Say "hello", voices! "Hello, officer friendly!" "Yes, sir."

"Have you ever been pulled over before?"

"Yes, sir." But never by one as cute as you...sorry you're not my first...but you could be my best...

"How long ago?"

"Umm..." I had to do some math, and I'm certain that smoke curled out of my ears. "About eighteen years ago?" Yep, I'm a rebel, a scofflaw...

He had to fight the smile again. I think he found me amusing. Can you imagine??

"Ever been arrested?"

"No, sir." But I HAVE wondered what it'd be like to play with those shiny, shiny handcuffs...tell me, officer friendly, is that your nightstick or are you just happy to see me?

"You sit tight, I'm going to go run your license."

Great...could you bring me a cold one while you're at it? My A/C is on the fritz and I'm schwitzing up a storm, here... "Yes, sir."

After a few years sitting on the side of the road, stewing in my own juices, I started shaking. Oh, great, NOW the caffeine kicks in! The nice officer returned, my license in his hot little hand. I don't think he noticed that my pupils were now two different sizes and whirling like a Warner Brother's character on a sugar-high.

"Where are you coming from?"

"Houston, sir." Back thataway...

"There on vacation?"

"Yes, sir." I bobble-headed a nod. Smooth.

"Were you on your own, or were you meeting friends?"

Is he fishing to find out if I'm available?? Hmm...I DO like a man in uniform... "I met some friends."

"What did you do while you were there?"

All kinds of things I wouldn't tell my mother, officer, but I'd be happy to show you a few of 'em... OK...now...I'm tired, emotionally and physically drained, missing the person I left behind, and really ready to be done driving for a while. I'm hot, the A/C isn't helping me any, the caffeine is kicking my ass, I can be really voluble when I'm nervous (and being pulled over has always made me nervous), and this guy is playing twenty questions. He totally deserved the seven minute discourse on the fun things to do in Houston and Galveston (G-rated version). I'm just sayin'.

Eventually he waved me to a stop.

"Where are you headed?"

"Home, sir." Up yonder.

"Where's that?"

Dude, it clearly says on my license...oh, crap...I can't remember where I live... "Atlanta...well, north of Atlanta, South of Gainesville, sir."

"Florida?"

Duh! Tag says Georgia...is this a trick question? Oh, crap...what's the right answer? Where's my cheat-sheet?? "No, sir, Georgia."

"Uh-huh. Do you have any marijuana on you?"

Why, you want to roll a blunt and party on the roadside, sugar? "No sir." True.

"Any cocaine?"

Dude, I look rode hard and put up wet, I'm exhausted, and I'm at least eighty pounds overweight - do I LOOK like a coke head?? "No, sir." Also true.

"Any methamphetamine?"

See the answer for cocaine, but add that I am in possession of all my teeth... "No, sir!" in a tone of utter disgust, this time, and completely true then and always.

"So you wouldn't mind if I searched, then?"

Only if you promise to get a little rough and call me Rhonda...and then can I put the cuffs on YOU?? "No, sir." Now, I know I'm supposed to demand a warrant or probable cause, but I was tired and in no mood to play with the nice man who just wanted to do his job - and if I was hot, he was hotter, standing in the sun wearing his uniform and a Kevlar vest. It's not his fault that drug runners have started using mom-mobiles as mule, or that I look so freakin' glamorous I must be a gangsta's moll, yo.

He handed me my license. "Step on over here, please." He waved for me to come out of the van and walk toward the back.

Oh, joy. "Yes, sir." I pulled out my wallet and replaced the license as I climbed out of the van and into the sun...and more importantly, my nappy-haired, sweaty, tired, overweight, been-on-the-road-for-several-hours looking self was in full view of the motoring public. Hurrah. The nice officer was waiting in the grass behind my van.

"You dropped something."

So I had. "Oh, thanks - it's the manager's card for the place I was staying."

"Where was that?"

I just handed him the card - we all know he wanted to see it...or maybe he just wanted to touch something that had been in really close proximity to my magnificent ass.

He asked me to step to the side.

"I'd hate for a car to hit my cruiser and crush us both." he handed me back the card.

Yeah, me too. "That would be fairly horrible, sir."

"I pulled you over because we get a lot of driver under the influence through here, and a lot of drug traffic, especially from Houston to Atlanta. We don't like drugs coming through here. Now, usually if we pull you over and ask if you're carrying anything, if you just have a little for personal use and you're honest about it, tell us, we'll just let you go."

Like fun, you will...

He continued "I'm not looking for that - I'm looking for big stuff. You're sure you don't have anything on you?"

"Sir, I'm clean." Sounded more like "Ser, ahm cleeyin", but at least it was the truth - the worst thing I had in the van was a beer Someone left in the motel room (I later told him it's in my fridge, but if he wants it he'll have to come get it) and some completely legal herbal smoke that is so old, it'd probably turn to dust if I opened it (if I could even find it buried in the very back in a box I haven't opened in a year or more).

"You're clean? OK, then, have a nice day."

Seriously? All that, and it's "Have a nice day"?? I don't even get a pat down, maybe get you to cop a feel? I could have body parts in those coolers...or every drug known to nature under that quilt! You made me lose all the semi-lukewarm air in my car, got my heart rate up over two-thousand bpm, and paraded my sorry butt out in public...and that's IT?? I demand a strip search! I know my rights!! I...uh...I'm getting back in the van and getting the Hell home, is what I'm doing.

If nothing else, I was awake for the rest of my trip...no need to pull over for any more naps!
~~~~~
Later, I'll announce the winner of the contest and maybe bore you to tears with a few other snippets from the trip. Cheers!

Galveston, Part Two

I don't know why I dig this shot, but I do - something about the composition, the funny little Victorian style building framed through the windshield of a very obliging car (she's a sweetheart, and Rosie enjoyed a good gossip with her when they were parked together)(yes, I did just write that)(what's wrong with anthropomorphizing cars??)(I'm shutting up now and getting on with the blog).

This is the view from the piece of beach on which we settled.The surf was gentle, just enough for my friend to body-surf a little while I swam, floated, and had a chat with Mama Oshun. At one point, while we were swimming together, a large Fish of Some Variety leaped from the surf and landed in the water nearby. We thought it was cool. A little while later I was floating on my back, bobbing in the waves and chatting with my friend when another Fish of Some Variety decided to leap out of the water and torpedo into my right...erm...chestal area, flop onto my stomach, and after a moment or two of utter confusion find its way back into the water, where I am certain it swam away asking "What the Hell just happened??", which is what I was saying. The two young men attempting to surf nearby expressed my sentiments nicely - "Holy shit!!"


There was a small group of young people visiting the beach. I think it was a church group. Usually, I would rather burn my hair than let teenagers see my bathing-suit clad body and open myself up to snide comments and tittering...but I didn't mind them...too much...and if they were thinking unkind thoughts, they never let on. I think it helped they had a young woman of size in their midst, and they seemed solicitous of her well-being. Sweet. As they prepared to leave, one of the young ladies stood in the surf, and I snapped this:
It just appeals to me...


While the view before us was still light, bright, behind us the sun was clearly setting, turning the sky burnt orange, fading to darkness.

It was time to start thinking about going home...well, back to my room, which had been my home for the week. This was my last evening in Texas, and I couldn't have asked for a nicer few hours. I wasn't the only one thinking of heading back to roost:

One last splash in the waves, one last look at the sand and the surf......and we packed up and headed back to Mundania.



The sand was sugar, the surf gentle, the water warm, and I could happily have stayed the night there, watching the stars pop out, splashing in Yemaya's inky waters, and enjoying congenial company until the sun turned the sky once more.

Thank you, Texas, for showing me some of your beauty during my visit. I was honored to meet several e-quaintances who inhabit you, and your kindness and good nature were truly a balm. I'll be back!

Galveston, Part One

I was going to do this post in one big bang but decided it would be too big, too unwieldy...so it's coming at you in two pieces. Why yes, yes I am milking my six day trip for nearly two-week's worth of blogs...why do you ask?

Admit it - you'd do the same thing...wouldn't you?

Oh, well...on with the blog.

With the Garden Center behind us and another night spent avoiding the heat and humidity of Houston in July (and consequently taxing the A/C in my room to its limits) under my belt, my friend decided that my last day should involve the beach - Galveston, to be precise. I was happy to go - I miss the sea, and although I tried to have some quality time with Mama Oshun in Florida when we went for Aunt D's funeral, it was a bust - too much hurricane damage to the coast, too many rocks in the way, too much surf. I had high hopes we'd be able to swim...and I tried very hard not to mind that swimming would involve a bathing suit on a public beach during daylight hours when innocent bystanders could very well be struck blind.

There were these nifty marshes on the way over to the island:People were fishing in them...or crabbing...or whatever it is one does in these types of coastal marshes. It reminded me of Summers spent catching blue crabs for dinner, sitting on a footbridge and dangling a pig's foot in the water.


I know they're not the best photos, but this is the Rainforest Cafe. We didn't stop or go in, because we were beach bound, but it looked cool enough to try and snap a pic. I dug the waterfall, and from time to time the volcano would "erupt" with a roar, heralded by the pounding of drums. Cool.

We drove along the sea wall a bit, just taking in the sights, sounds, and scents of the Gulf. Above us, there was someone having a good time. The pilot was sporting with the wind, and we enjoyed seeing him at his fun.

There's nothing wrong with your computer - the building really is that color. I had to take a photo...it was so awful, it was amazing. Truly - bright, lime green, bottom to top. The building has style, at least in form...but the color? What were they thinking?? OK, so maybe it appeals to some folks, and looks like a vacation spot...but really? Wow...

There are still plenty of signs of hurricane damage, even now- piers washed away, nothing but pilings jutting up from the surf like broken teeth in the mouth of someone fresh from a brawl.

I wondered if they were ever going to rebuild, or if the owners had decided to cut and run, give it up, perhaps heartbroken or worn down by the wind, the waves, the relentless bureaucracy of insurance claims and government regulations...But obviously some folks decided to rebuild, soldier on, fly in the face of the storms, shake a fist at and tempt Mother Nature (who will answer...she always does).

Tomorrow, more of Galveston (although none of me in a bathing suit, because I love you too much to subject you to the horror) and the day after that? A contest! Hmm...that gives me two days to get Mel's prize in the mail (Mel? Still there? Helloooooo?) and figure out a prize for this one.

The Garden's End

We are coming to the end, now - a few hours wandering in this lovely garden, a week showing you some small glimpses of what I saw. If you ever have the opportunity to visit Houston, consider making your own journey through this beautiful place and making your own memories.

Flowers are not the only colorful things growing here. How could I resist the stripes?

More stripes, in greens and yellows. Those hands belong to my friend...I couldn't edit them out without losing some of the lovely leaf. I thought it was funny that he was shooting the topside while I was sneaking in from underneath.

The flowers and greenery weren't the only thirsty things in the garden - by the time we found this water fountain near the fence, I would have welcomed even a mud puddle to sip from! I was distracted while making ready for this jaunt and forgot to grab water. Silly, me. Ah, well, I drank deep and was refreshed...

This little fellow hopped out and paced us as we walked past the last few beds and out to the car, our afternoon heading for air-conditioning, cool drinks, and a bite to eat.

I hope you've enjoyed this walk through the Houston Garden Center at Hermann Park...I certainly did!

Lantern in the Garden

This Chinese lantern stands beneath a pear tree, offering a perch for passing pigeons.

I had fun trying to shoot the lantern and a pigeon feather in the grass. Good thing I'm pretty bendy for a big girl!

It amazes me how such softly colored flowers can survive intense heat and sunlight...

When no one is looking, who blows this trumpet? Some fairy or elf? A pixie or sprite? Who gives voice to the garden's song? Who unleashes the call for the moon to rise and give light to the fay folk's play?

Another soft-hued bloom. Three, three, three, triple trines, lovely to behold.

If sunlight were to take shape as a flower, were to reach up to rejoin its source, I imagine it would look something like this.

Bud, Blossom and Bloom

This Zinnia (I think it's a Zinnia...but it could be a Mum...some Witch I am, don't even know my flowers) caught my eye as we walked past a long flower bed...I love the layers of petals, the coloring, the aura of good cheer...I often call these "Pom-Pom Flowers". I can't see them without smiling.

There was a single rose climbing a trellis. She was sweet, soft, grateful for her shady spot. She posed so prettily...

These soft beauties begged to be touched. Delicate pink velvet, their hearts stained a deeper shade of their blush, they were at once bold and demure.

I lucked into this shot of a little sister enjoying her afternoon repast. See how the petals are limned in the darker color of the flower's heart? An invitation to sit and sip, if ever I saw one..."This way, this way to my heart..."

Almost blinding, these white flowers. This bud was ready to burst open and reveal the bloom's yellow center.

More tomorrow, and perhaps the next day as well, and then we'll take a break for local fare before heading to Galveston for a day or two...all from my living room!

I'm In the Garden...

Another short one about the gardens...

There was something about the composition of this shot - the hard metal fence, the feathery vine, and the soft purple flower - that charmed me. This will be turned into a card in the near future.I didn't know what this vine was called until Mum told me - Hummingbird Vine. I love the way it clings to the tree, curves around itself, strives upward.This little lady was so still and quiet, it would have been easy to walk past without ever noticing her...The roses were suffering from the heat, and had almost passed. This set reminded me of the circle of life...of entropy...Such delicate petals and coloring to be so boldly in the sun, but these roses weren't afraid of a little light and heat.