Encyclopædia

October 1966 is the date on the photo. The corner of the living room in the house where I lived from 1966 to 1985. Notice the huge encyclopedia set in the bottom right corner. That was a beautiful set. It was probably the 1964 or 1965 Britannica version. I am guessing. The set was destroyed by water damage and soot damage. Not a fire - chimney damage caused soot to back up into the house. I can still remember me trying to tell my brothers and sisters - we have to do something. Mom's house has black soot on the walls - it is sitting on everything. Finally a brother found a chimney brick had fallen into the furnace (or something). It was probably horribly dangerous.

Then the house literally began falling apart and we still could not get her to leave. We tried to make the house livable but it was beyond our means. Water ran down the walls of the living room and between black soot and water damage - that encyclopedia set did not survive. It didn't have any pictures that I recall. If there were any, they were small and black and white.

I had tried many times to get my Mom to move in with me but she was having nothing to do with it. I tried to find a place where she could have her own independence but time ran out on us. She would have never moved. I came to realize that. She was so happy when we moved into this house in September of 1966. She had a home that her daughter purchased. Nobody could make her leave, now. She lived the rest of her days here until she passed in 2000 from a vehicle accident.

I can still remember the scathing e-mail I sent to sisters and one brother who had e-mail. One sister-in-law asked me if I was drunk when I wrote it. I was not. I guess I set the family on edge. I had come back from visiting my Mom and the house was in such horrid condition I slammed everybody. Not personally but as a group. I said we should be ashamed of ourselves for letting our mother live in such horrible conditions. The electrical wires were exposed in my old bedroom where the plaster had literally fallen from the wall. Water from outside ran down the exposed walls. My Mom's bedroom had a leak in the ceiling. I had a huge red bucket tub that I would empty each week-end that I went to visit. There were eight children and only two visited her on a regular basis.

Eh, I did not mean for this post to go here today. I am done.

Hold it High

I missed posting on the correct day, but I figured I could not pass up posting one of my poppy flowers and recite yet another section from In Flanders Fields.

Hold it high.

It is a fact

Ever since I was little I had issue with words. I did not know it at the time, but it could have been a fore runner to my migraines. One symptom of migraine is the speech (dyslexia, I call it) aura. Your brain thinks one thing and the words that come out do not match.

When I was little my family used to laugh at me because I said "cob on the corn" or rolliavi.

I have had I believe, all of the symptoms. Two times (and only two) one eye has completely lost sight. That was weird. I can't recall if it was the same eye each time. The episodes were a couple of years apart.

Anyway, the speech can be quite amusing. I am known to be rather clownish and funny anyway, but this speech issue can really create some havoc.

My medicine takes care of the nausea and pain. Eventually. I am left with what I call a migraine hangover. I am not feeling great but I can function.

A co-worker was introducing a new intern in the tech department. I asked her what her background was and she said "Web page design."  I replied "What did you use, html, frontline?"  The other tech laughed. He said "Frontline? That is for fleas!"  We got a good laugh at that one.

Usually I get words switched. For example, if I want to say - "It sure is hot in the car"; I may say instead "It sure is car in the hot." Things like this have happened all my life.

Later in the day was the real kicker. As you know a few days ago I watched the pilot to Gilligan's Island. The regular theme song form the television series has been stuck in my head for days. I walked downstairs to use the restroom and then off to the mail room to see if I had mail. As I walked back through what I thought were empty halls I was singing "Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale.." I turned a corner and there in front of me was one of the younger fellow psychologists. He was always shy and never said much.

Being a tiny bit self conscious that I had been caught singing, I barked out "I've had Gilligan's head stuck in my I...."  That is when my mouth stopped. My brain was saying WTF are you saying? Stop, stop, stop - you idiot. It was too late. My mouth had spit out the switched words and stopped. The poor guy was texting. He glanced up at me and I was trying to backpedal as fast as I could by talking quickly and saying "I mean the song Gilligan's island has been stuck in my head!"  He was long gone, having returned to his texting.

Yep. My daughter is right. They are scared of me.

What 'cha doin'?

I checked back and discovered that I have not posted any pet pictures in May. Nothing from Sable for a while, so here is one from March of this year. My Sable girl. We rescued her from the pound in March 2003 (if my memory serves me correctly).

The vet guessed her age at 7 months. So we figure that makes her almost ten years old.

Spruce

A manager I worked with in Virginia back in the mid-80's said "Let's see if we can spruce up the office." That was his way of telling me he wanted me to clean it. It is a phrase that makes me smile because I had never heard it put that way before or anybody use that word in that respect.

I purchased some bedding flowers to "spruce" up my area.

Orange

The Professor

I had no idea. I will be 52 years old the end of this month and I had no darn idea that the pilot of "Gilligan's Island" had three different characters than the TV series. Ginger and 'Bunny' were secretaries. Ginger the smarter one and Bunny the dumb blond. The Howell's were the same and the skipper and Gilligan were the same.

The professor. Oh, the professor! Why didn't they keep John Gabriel? I guess it would be too much of a stretch to have somebody looking like that to be a brilliant mind, too? I watched and liked the show when I was young, but gee whiz. I might have made it a priority if they had kept Gabriel as the character. Sigh.

Just google 'Gilligan's island pilot' and you can read all about it. One site said that the pilot was lost for years and first aired in October of 1992. Well, I missed that memo. And if you get the chance to watch the pilot or watch the YouTube video check out the theme song. It isn't the one you remember. LOL!

Oddly Familiar

I watched "On the Bowery" the other day. It was so oddly familiar to me. I didn't catch the fact that it was a documentary until afterwards. I was astounded at the authenticity of the actions, mannerisms and speaking of the drinking men. This is how I remember my father when he drank. Looking like the lead character (although a bit older) but the style of clothes and hair almost identical. The mannerisms in the drunks around them - the walk, the slobber, the loud story telling, the grabbing of another man's arm to get their attention. The stumbling, the swaying. So oddly familiar. So real. I have witnessed my father's friends when they were under the influence.

We think there are vast groups of people who are lost in this life, but if you dig deep enough - you discover that this form of "losing one's way" or wasting of life has been going on for all time. If you read up on the documentary you find out that the guy with the white hair died shortly after filming and the main character - with the neat haircut was offered work in Hollywood but decided to stay on the Bowery. The pull of alcohol (or rather the mood alteration that the effects of alcohol brings) is very powerful indeed.

While watching, I just got the feeling that most of the dialogue was not scripted. Or the actions, for that matter. I don't see how they could have been. The stagger was just too real. Were the men actually 'acting' drunk on the set or was this a real documentary? How did the filmaker get around permissions? Was this even an issue in 1955? Maybe they did not need permissions. Maybe documentaries such as this created the need for TV production companies to get authorization before they placed somebody on film. Hell, maybe the guys signed the authorization paper for a drink.

It made me feel a bit better knowing that this seemed to be an epidemic of some proportion. How many of these men had families at home? Families who stopped expecting them to come home. Maybe they had been abandoned by family members and ended up on skid row. Skid rows still exist. Maybe we need another documentary. Maybe there is one and I just have not found it, yet.

Regardless, this film was gritty and messy. It was not the choreographed films you see today that show you how things were back then or how things are in 'loser territory'.  No matter how hard they try - the films today always have some sort of glamour or gloss to them. Not this one. I kept expecting one of the old men to stand up to see that he had pissed his pants. Maybe they cut those scenes out. 

Why such small glasses? When I worked in a bar in the mid 70's all the drunks at the bar drank out of those big fish bowl mugs. Or the big handled mugs. My dad had a dozen of the big handled mugs. He kept all kinds of doo-dads in them. One would be full of watch parts. One would be full of odds and ends. I spent hours going through those big old mugs of junk.

I think my Mom threw them all away after he passed. I think she just went in his room and tossed everything out. I would guess he had a hundred ties. I think I recall him teaching me how to tie a tie when I was young but I seriously doubt I could do it now. I did love to go through those ties though, and look at them. When he was sober he was a very kind man.Well, I thought he was. Different siblings have different memories. I think my dad had his favorites. There may have been a brother or two that do not recall him as being so nice. 

I remember (laughing) one time asking my Mom why she married him. Because when I came along in 1960, she had been married to him for twenty years. I only saw the drunk who could not keep a job. It was hard for me to imagine that he had been anything else. My mom laughed. She said he wasn't like this when she married him. I laughed at myself. Of course he wasn't. Who would marry something like that?

Click, click, click, click!

I have been up reading for over an hour. Oh, Peruby will you never learn?!  That large glass of cold and sweetened iced tea certainly tasted good at 8:00 p.m. Sigh.

My neighbor has one lone iris blooming this year. Strange year for the flowers. You could figure with the odd weather we have had. I snapped some shots of my one lone poppy blooming and my peony bush but they all came out blurry. What evah!

Anyway, Muse stated she was having issues loading a picture onto blogger with Firefox and had to use IE, so I had to test it. I had to click and click and click and click but it finally went. Who knows what is mucking things up this time?

Green May

According to the date stamp on this photo, it was taken nearly a year ago. I think when I moved out of state I missed the greens of Ohio most of all (next to family of course).

Baby Doll

I think I found the model for the little baby dolls they sell in stores.

Silhouette

Serene photo, except for the cable wires and that alien-esque street lamp. Directly after the wedding ceremony at Sm@thèrs Bè@ch, Kèy Wè$t;  I pointed my camera west and caught the sky. The photo is untouched except for a slight shadow border and I blacked out the date from the camera (which was incorrect anyway).

Pearls

My grand niece playing in the sand at Key West. I love her blue finger nail polish. On her wrist is my Mom's (fake)pearl bracelet. Funny how her grandmother (sister 1949) helped herself to things in my Mom's house before we all took the time to clean it out. She made certain she got there first and took what she wanted. During my niece's wedding was not the time for me to mention it to her. She would just say that Mom had given her granddaughter the jewelry before she passed anyway. We have no way of knowing.

It Makes you Wonder

When I did the driving, my daughter and nephew entertained themselves with making funny pictures of themselves on the iPad. I heard them laughing and carrying on but did not see any end results until after we stopped for the evening. This was on our way to Key West two weeks ago.

We stopped in middle Florida and picked my daughter up. She moved there recently. I jumped at the first chance I could when I heard that anybody in the family was headed to Florida so I could see for myself where my "little" girl was staying and to see how she was doing. I also have Google Earth and Latitude to see where she is at all times. Until she removes herself from Latitude, that is. If she thinks I am stalking her too much, she may do that. I don't know. At 21 years old I am not certain how she feels about me knowing her where abouts.

It isn't like around here where we grew up. If my phone tells me she is in Orlando, I have no clue if it is a red light district or if there are biker bars she is frequenting.

I watched a movie that had me wondering. What would you do? The movie is "London River".  It is mostly about a mother in Britain during the 2005 bombings, who after two days of not hearing from her daughter goes to London to check up on her. She is perplexed as to where she lives and that she had an Arabic boyfriend. She finds this out by searching her apartment which the landlord gives her access to. A day later enters the father of the boyfriend. He is searching for his son.

The mother seems to remain in denial for the first few days. Probably a safeguard. Did this daughter and her boyfriend live in a cocoon? One of the first things my daughter did when she moved to Florida is to tell me all about her boyfriend's family and his friends. I have met most of them. It just seems to me after two or three days a friend would come to the apartment and ask about the daughter. Have you seen her? Did you go here, there and here to check on her? The police were not much help to her. The hospitals were even worse. Is that how it is in Britain?

Anyway, towards the end of the movie, they finally find a travel agent who recognizes the daughter and her boyfriend and tells them about a trip they planned to France. So were they in France hiking through the wilderness and had no cell phone service? Service was kind of poor after the bombings so that could have been a reason why she did not communicate with her mother.

The mother's brother stayed at her farm and took care of it while she went to London. I would have given the key to a neighbor and been right there with her in London. I mean, what the hell? Just let her roam the big city alone and looking for her lost daughter? Sheesh. It makes you wonder.

Doctored

I doctored the above photo. Key West Sunset.

Sunset Sailing

Another shot from Mallory Square in Key West.

Trauma

The first move that I ever watched in a theater (to the best of my knowledge) was a comedy called "Monkeys Go Home".  Disney, funny, entertaining to a (then) seven year old. I was with other siblings, I don't recall all that went, but I do know my older brother (1953) was there and I felt safe and happy. All was good. We were kids on our own while my Mom and older sister did some business downtown so we sat right down in the front row, because we didn't know any better. :)

The second movie I ever watched in a theater (to the best of my knowledge) scared the bejesus out of me. I would have been eight years old by now and having filled up my days with stick horses, baby dolls and Dick and Jane books, my oldest brother (1942) decided to take my (1957) brother and me to see "2001: A Spacey Odyssey."  I know by today's standards this movie (rated G, by the way) is so low on the horror and scary scale it is beyond ridiculous. But in 1968 to a small girl who could barely keep her eyes open through a Twilight Zone episode and mostly watched the westerns with her dad, I was wracked with fear.

I came away from that theater with a memory of looking at the aisle lights. I recall seeing beautiful red lamps that were high up on the wall (a dim light to help people find their way, I suppose). Now, as I think about it - they probably looked an awful lot like HAL.

Who remembers or knows what relationship the letters HAL has with an infamous computer brand? Kind of neat. Many years later in a training session in Pittsburgh, I found out about a similar naming of computer related acronyms.

Sailing

Off the shore of Mallory Square in Key West at the sunset celebration.

Doll face

My great niece brought a friend with her to Key West. I let her wear my glasses one morning and snapped this photo of her. This friend was amazing. She won ALL the staring contests - hands down. She also won the "Who can be the quietest the longest" game and I don't think I have ever met a friend so polite and quiet. She just went everywhere we asked her to go and didn't even mind if we left her in the room while we went on without her. She did sleep when she lay down and never opened an eye until she set up the next morning.

Well, come to think of it, I was sleeping - so how do I know she didn't open her eyes? She may have been watching us all night for all I know. Creepy.

Shoes

When you do a lot of walking, shoes are important. I suppose if you do a lot of standing and running, too. Nurses have special shoes or they wear a good pair of tennis shoes. My foot doctor told me to wear New Balance (the higher the number the better). They get too hot and they do not look good if I have to dress up and give a presentation or go to a meeting. The highest I find is 610 at my local shoe store. Where I purchase my SAS taupe huggies. I can get away with wearing these to meetings and they are cool. Ugly shoes but they let me walk without pain. Or, very little pain. Not like before with the plantar fasciitis. I do get some burning from the friction, I will start using baby powder to help remedy that.

I think I just found out why I cannot find a higher number of New Balance. The 800 series runs over $100. Well, that is about the same that I pay for my SAS. If it stops the pain, it is worth every penny. And, so far - the SAS sandals stop that horrible heel pain. I seem to be able to walk almost forever. Now, I need to find something for my aching back when I walk too much. I did find out that if I pushed myself (like I had to in Key West) the back pain finally dissipated. YAY!

The above photo was taken while I was sitting in Key West at Mallory Square waiting for the sun set. You remember, where the cruise ship had to wait over an hour for the girl to arrive? Most folks tell me that a ship won't wait very long. When the doors are closed that is it, they said. This one waited, however.

I can see by the little emblem on the side of the shoe, that it must be the real deal. I have purchased knock-off crocs but not the real thing. I may have to give the real ones a try to see if they help my feet during long standing episodes or when I do a lot of walking. Do you have a certain type of shoe that you swear by? Have you had episodes of plantar fasciitis or heel spurs? If so, have you had a shot in the heel? I heard that hurts a lot. Maybe foot surgery?

Bar is Open

Key West is known for the bar scene. I guess. A group of us did go out one evening and meandered in and out of bars. We started at the Hard Rock for dinner. A lot of the bars in Key West are multi-faceted. You walk in one place and if you continue to walk around or upstairs, you enter another bar area with different music and a different crowd, but it is the same named bar.

On our trolley tour, we were shown the bar that opens at 7 a.m. and closes at 4 a.m. We didn't make it to that one. Heh, heh. There is an open atmosphere in most of the Duvall street bars. There is no glass on the windows. I am not certain there were any doors. I have no idea how they lock up after hours. I would have to say our favorite was Pete's Dueling Pianos.

A lot of the drinkers stood outside on the sidewalk. No drinks allowed outside but some had one foot in the bar and one foot outside. They spilled out and mingled with the tourists. Perhaps a lot of them were tourists. It was odd for me to see this mixing of people drinking and families walking (with little children) through the same drinking crowds of people. I'd say it was about eleven p.m.

There was one group that came in. Four in total. I only saw the two guys dressed (horribly) as women. They had exagerrated make up on and scarves and old lady skirts with tragic white hose on. Somebody in my group said that there were two women with them. I only saw the men. It was amusing.