Thursday, December 30, 2010

Crystal Lake

Happy Holidays!  I'm on the road again. Sort of. I am terribly ill, but to avoid the $1,000 day fine if I continued in my workamping job, seemed a bit absurd.




Orange County, Florida has a new law, you may not have an RV of any size or type on your personal property. You may not have any RV visitors, not even for 10 minutes. Orlando is located in Orange County. You may not even have your own boat stored on your own property. Why did the homeowners agree to such a County wide law?  Do many even know about it?

The homeowners I was working for, certainly knew nothing about it.  Yet they were threatened with a $1,000.00 a day fine for having me work for them and park on their private property. 

Ridiculous.


I am terribly ill, but I did manage to move the RV about 45 miles to Crystal Lake Rv Park in Mims Florida, near the spacecoast. I only planned to stay a night, but I was much worse today. I did let the puppy drag me around the park for a few walks today, but otherwise I was in bed trying to get well. So we are staying here another night. 


It did finally warm up today, I had to change out of my winter sweater dress into a summery outfit. I took a long hot shower. I forgot to unclog the plumbing first. I had bought a bottle of drain openener to pour down the shower first, but I forgot. 

The hot shower almost made me feel human again. Afterwards, it took the water a half hour to drain. Once it was drained, I got out the drain opener bottle, took the cap off, then somehow dropped the bottle.  Ah fiddlesticks!

Drano splashed all over two throw rugs and one towel. So I had to take them outside, and wash them off with a garden hose.  They aren't dry yet, so I am leaving them out overnight on the picnic table. 

Puppy has already made doggy and human friends in the park. I am so weak, I can't walk briskly with him. So we had to just take  a wander rather than a walk. He was thrilled not to have on his usual pile of sweaters and a coat, but just a little vest that has a built-in harness.

He met a real cute girl doggy, later on, she came out wearing her red Christmas dress.  

Harley was looking his usual wild self. People still ask me "WHAT kind of dog is THAT?"  Men seem to like him better than women, maybe because he looks so rugged in spite of being so tiny. 

I am off to bed again, to try to get well. Have a happy safe New Year's Eve!



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Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Silly Dog, Silly Me

It was 30F degrees when I woke up in Orlando this morning. Yippie...  Not that it's cold, but yippie, that puppy and I woke up alive.  Well, I did. My little pooch is still sleeping.  I'm still in pain, but it shall pass. (It better!)
I love to be parked in the woods.
Last autum, I spent a few glorious days at Lake Reidsville in North Carolina

Puppy dog was up late last night at my friend's house, playing with their canine kid. Eventually he was pestering me to go home, then it dawned on me, he was tired, wanting his own little cozy bed to curl up in.  By the time we got back to the motorhome, he was ready for his latest bedtime routine. First he wanted to fight with Bo-Bo Senior, his long skinny semi-stuffed toy, that resembles a cartoon weenie dog.  Bo-Bo is bigger than the puppy. Next we played tug of war with Bo-Bo, followed by Bo-Bo tossing.  I would toss Bo-Bo from the bed to the living area, while puppy fetched, gleefully hopping back up on my bed, with Bo-Bo Senior held firmly in his mouth.  Then he wanted to fetch the tennis ball while I threw that down the length of the indoor aisle.  

We are like two naughty kids, tossing toys around, hoping we don't break anything.

Finally, I showed little Harley; THE BRUSH.  He used to tremble at the sight of it, but now he is delighted when the brush comes out. I start as gently as I can, stroking his bits of fur forwards, then backwards.  Hmm... that didn't come out right. I brush it the way it lays, then I brush it in reverse, so his fur stands up and fluffs out.  It's hard to do all of him, because usually he flops right over, as if his muscles have suddenly gave way.  I don't bother to stand him back up. I just brush whatever fur I can reach, while he closes his eyes, falling fast asleep.

This cold snap has meant me dressing him in layers when he wakes up in the morning.  Walks have been brisk.  He seems to suddenly be eating more.  He needs some meat on those bones. He may fit in the crockpot, but there is no meat on him. His underweight problem has been a hard battle. Most dogs love to devour as much food as proffered.

The vets have checked him over for this and that, but he just had such a rough start in life with 5 months with another family that fed him Doritos and Corn Chips, not a healthy diet for a puppy at all. Now he gets a great diet with a wide assortment of healthy foods. This gives him boundless energy, which he readily burns off, by incessant playing, chasing, walking, running, flying and loving. He is an enthusiastic doggy. When bored, he will attack the first human he can find, usually me, and torture them with gratitude and doggy kisses.  He flies around the motorhome, up on the bed, the seats, the back of the dining booth or the top of the driver's seat, which affords him a nice perch for viewing out the windows when we are parked.
Puppy loves this perch, when we are parked.
For a silly dog, he looks so serious, when his picture is snapped.

I've never seen a doggy jump such great heights as he does. Recently, he astounded my friends and I, by jumping vertically nearly four feet to reach a new perch. This is a small dog, half the size of a house cat. How does he do that?  Maybe his knees are spring loaded like a cat's.

My formatting on this blog keeps messing up. I don't know if the template has a glitch or if I am just techno-challenged.  


Harley and Bo-Bo Junior get ready for a trip.
Bo-Bo Senior is bright green and much larger.


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Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Have Wheel Estate, Will Travel

Have wheel-estate, will travel.

Being a mermaid, I am having a really hard time getting used to the c-c-c-cold. I miss my Caribbean home, yet I love wandering around this planet, seeing what a mermaid can see.

I did go to Goodwill and other used shops throughout the country, during my past wanderingss, collecting up a few winter clothes. To be polite, I could say they are recycled shops or nearly new shops. I care about the environment, I do my part to recycle, I try not to be wasteful with utilities or gas.  The foods I buy are chosen for health reasons, I am careful to keep a close eye on the refrigerator that foods are utilized before their past-prime condition, so that nothing is wasted. 

While most folks think they can never ever get by on anything that is not brand new, state of the art, I find that I am flexible. I can deal with old technology, nearly new clothes and pretty old things, like this old motorhome. And me. Today I feel very old. I am in loads of pain.  Grrrrrrrrrrr...

In my first career, I was an executive. I wore expensive tailored suits, designer hose,  silk blouses and had a wall full of shoes to choose from. At that time, few women were in my field, I dealt primarily with men. I never carried a purse, just a beautiful leather briefcase with my initials modestly emblazoned in cursive gold.  That was before designers felt the need to plaster their own initials or name boldly on everything they or their minions created. My girly things were either stashed in hidden pockets or tucked away discreetly in the briefcase. I carried it home at night, took it back to work the next day.  The funny thing is, I never ever worked at home.  Once I left the office, my work was done.  I refused to work at home or take business calls there. Whatever files had been previously in my briefcase that day, while meeting with clients, were removed before I went home.

Now my office travels with me, in my little wheel estate home.  My clothes are previously owned except my winter boots, which were purchased at discount a year ago.

Back in my executive days, others thought I was working nights at home, since I always had my briefcase with me when I arrived or departed the office. How funny.  Well, I've heard once you  get a reputation for being up at the crack at dawn, you can sleep all morning.

Home was where the hearth was. I wanted to totally relax, visit with my pets and friends, never once thinking about work, until I showed up at the office again.

When I moved to the Sea and the Caribbean, all those lovely clothes were given away.  I took up wearing yacht uniforms when on duty and sarongs when not on duty. One island, that I visited twice a week for years, due to my sailing/working schedule, coincided with my night off. The islanders called me the sarong lady.

In the afternoon, I had to clear the tall ship through customs and immigration on that little island. For them,  I wore my best white uniform, complete with epaulets and gold bars. Afterwards, I would take the launch back to the ship, to place the passports and paperwork back in the safe, change into a colorful sarong, then go back ashore to scout out evening entertainment possibilities for the passengers, then sneak off for a break.

There was one bar on that island, I always recommended the passengers avoid. Not because it was unsafe or anything, but because it was the secret hide-away for the captain and I, when we needed a break from the ship, the crew and the passengers.

Islanders, transplanted construction workers, live-aboard cruisers and sailors, frequented the place along with a sprinkling of drunks, herb dealers and the comically insane. It was aptly named the Back Yard, a place to unwind and relax with no pretensions. You had to follow a brief dirt path by a wooden fence, to enter an indoor deck of sorts that had been built in numerous stages and at varying heights.  Trees grew through the roof, plants were scattered about. Most of the stools and tables were hand made, some better than others. There was a ramshackle upstairs loft area.  It was kept closed off, except on a few busy nights when live entertainment filled the bar to more than capacity.

Sometimes the captain and I wanted a break from all manner of people, so the bartender allowed us to go upstairs, in spite of the locked gate with a big CLOSED sign at the bottom of the stairway. No one else was allowed up there. The bartender would tell inquiring patrons, who saw us go up, or heard us walking around the wooden floor,  that we were "in a meeting". We tipped the bartender, lavishly for this consideration. Naturally, he took superb care of us.  

There was a built-in bench in the corner of the loft, we would pull up chairs to prop our feet upon and for an hour or two, pretend we haven't a care in the world.

It's hard to live, work and play 7 days a week, 24 hours a day on a ship or yacht.  Sometimes we just wanted a brief escape without dealing with the constant wants and needs of others, as well as the tremendous responsibility of managing someone else's ship.  Let the crew be in charge of the yacht at anchor, send the passengers to the touristy places, and pray nothing happens while we take a well deserved respite from our constant duties.

My mind just wanders along today, as I think of then and live in now.

Back to the present; I live in a mini-motorhome, a term I've learned from my insurance company.  Over the past few months, through touring various thrift shops, I assembled a tiny winter wardrobe. Nice stuff, that doesn't even look like it came from a used clothing store. Even my friend who traveled with me in the autumn, began perusing the used stores, while waiting on me.  Now he is hooked, after seeing the prices, vowing to never buy new again, if he can find used.  The puppy has been treated to assorted stuffed toys, I found in the kid's department for a mere fraction of what the pet stores charge for something similar.

Of course recently, he learned how to rip and unstuff his toys, leaving bits of fluff in his wake. *Sigh*.  I used to toss out the ripped toys, now I just let him finish unstuffing them, then he has this bit of deflated faux fur to play with, that once resembled a fully stuffed teddy bear or a purple hippoptamus. He seems happy enough with that.

Today I am in a ton of pain, but I am trying my best to get a zillion things done so I can hit the road again to parts unknown.

My situation here in Orlando, is coming to an abrupt halt. I was trading work for a place to park my motorhome for the winter while puppy and I lived in it. In RV terms, this is called workamping. But the local county government, sees it otherwise. Recently we were informed that RV's of any shape or size may not visit on personal private property while in Orange County, Florida, home to Orlando and Disneyworld. Not for ten minutes, not for an hour, not for overnight, totally hidden from the street and neighbors.

We were all shocked and surprised to learn of this. We've been threatened with a $1,000.00 daily fine. Holy cow!

The disabled folks I've been helping out, will have to work out Plan B. There are no campgrounds nearby, for us to continue this arrangement, even with me parked elsewhere. The closest one we found is over a half-hour away.  I don't have a car, what RV-ers call a "toad". According to the county "code enforcer", I can't drive and park my RV at their home, even for a few hours a day, while I help them out.

I have yet to find another workamping position in a southern locale. My mini-motorhome was not built for the bitter cold. While I do have several invitations from friends to come park on their property, they all seem to live in bitterly cold winter climates. My plumbing and holding tanks are not heated, like they are in the fancier RV's. My big windows are not insulated well at all.  Pulling down the room darkening shades, certainly helps keep the heat in, but I can't live in a cave by day. When I get up in the morning, all the shades go up again, so I can gaze out upon the world from my desk.

I haven't come up with Plan B yet, no idea exactly where I am going in 48 hours. I have my ideas... probably southern Georgia or the southern coastal area of South Carolina. Florida is very pricey.

I am on a teensy-tiny budget that my current writing income affords. I am working fast and furiously as time permits, at increasing my writing income to a living wage.

That is much easier said;  than done. Maybe a famous book reviewer will "discover" my book and give it fabulous publicity. (Wouldn't that be lovely!)

I keep tracking down possible workamping opportunities and applying for same. Largely I hear silence in reply.

Despite the pain attacking me since yesterday, puppy and I bundled up against the cold, then took a long walk through suburbia. I tried to walk tall and straight, with my shoulders thrown back, and my gut sucked in. I prayed this would ease the pain. I've even smiled at myself, like a grinning fool, trying to feel better.

If anything, I feel much worse.

Yuck.

I didn't need this now, well I never need pain, who does?  I am a tad angry with my body, I've spent a bloody fortune trying to get well and stay well. I've tried to stay far away from the pricey medications that had numerous bad side effects, including pain medications which are so bad for my kidneys and liver, which have taken a severe beating, but are hopefully on the mend.

That sentence sure was a mouth full.

My ridiculous debts from seeking medical help in the past have piled up all too rapidly on my credit cards. I try not to let is stress me out. However, this physical pain I've been in for the past day and a half is just excruciating. I have no idea what could be wrong.

I just want it to go away.

I hope an angel comes along and breaths fresh energy into my body, removes the pain and lets me get on with life. I'm just not done yet! 

One more hour, one more day, one more week, one more month,  I want it ALL.  Am I asking too much? 

Have wheel estate, will travel.
This picture was taken in the autumn at Lamb City Campground in Phillipston, Massachusetts.
That tiny blur, to the left of the picnic table, is the puppy dog on a very long tether.
Since we had no immediate neighbors, he was treated to a large enough area, to play Frisbee and ball,
while still tethered.
Most all my pictures on my blog will click to enlarge, something even I didn't know for awhile.

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Monday, December 27, 2010

Happy Birthday To My Puppy

I hope everyone had wonderful holidays. I worked throughout the Christmas madness cooking up my friend's favorite things. Today it's the Monday after, like so many, I am rushing around with too much to do. I don't like being stressed out, especially when it's so c-c-c-cold.  It was 29F degrees when I woke up in Orlando, Florida. 

Christmas Day was my puppy's birthday!  He is now ONE year old. He is still such a baby in so many ways. Now he is giving me the evil eye, he has to go outside to water a bush in this c-c-c-cold weather. Poor thing.

We are b-b-b-back from our very brisk walk. Man is it ever so cold out there. I put on his sweater, plus his flannel coat plus his vest, and the poor doggy was still cold. His only gift on his birthday was some leftover ham, which he devoured quickly. I try to groom him everyday, he loves that. Brushing his little bits of fur, puts him catatonic. I brush his fur backwards, so it stands out, making him look like a big doggy. Of course, once he comes out of his near-comatose state, he shakes it furiously, so it settles back into his wild ragamuffin look.

Before his birthday, I worked really hard with him, to teach him "drop-it".  When we play fetch, he runs for the ball or toy, grabs it, then plays a comical keep-away game with it. So I have been trying to teach him "drop-it".  He sort of gets it now, if he drops the ball or toy, when I say so, then I get to toss it again, he gets to chase it again. 

I figure, if you repeat the same word ten thousand times to your puppy, he eventually learns.  I am super grateful to have my little puppy dog. He is my favorite waste of time.
Out of six pictures, of the dog, this is the only one that is not a blur of puppy motion,
however, I snapped it so quickly, I cut his head off.
Oops.

The garbage truck just came by. Incredibly, the man working the back of the truck, hopping off to grab the cans and empty them into the truck, is wearing shorts.  It's now 32F degrees, which is 0 Celsius, which is freezing.  I hope his knees don't get frost bit.

I am working for my friends, who are originally from Greenville, South Carolina, where I was born. We are all in Florida now, except one fled the warm weather of Orlando (ha ha ha, since when is 32F degrees warm?) to pay homage to South Carolina. She called Christmas afternoon, from upstate South Carolina to announce "It's snoooooooooooooooooooowing!"  It hasn't snowed on Christmas day in that area since 1963.

So I pulled out my magic mermaid wand, flew up to Table Rock State Park and snapped the picture below.

Table Rock State Park,  South Carolina
That is SNOW on the ground, very rare for this area.
Picture taken on the morning of December 26, 2010

I wanted to go stay at Table Rock State Park, they have a wonderful campground, but I didn't make it there yet. I did camp in the area, last June, on a friend's river property. I wrote about that; "24 Hours of Heaven off the Grid". This is one of my all time favorite areas, besides a certain island in the Caribbean. Previously I wrote about the Cherokee Scenic Highway in upstate South Carolina which is where Table Rock State Park is and where my friend's river bend property is located.  If you are an RV-er, you should seriously check out this area, the beauty is breathtaking. The Indian in me, always makes me feel right at home there, where I belong, back with nature.
The
Cherokee
Scenic Highway
 in upstate SC
is featured in
this book.
Table Rock State Park is
featured in both these books.

Christmas Eve, we received a registered letter that the homeowners, where I work, would be fined $1,000.00 per day, if they continued to have me parked on their property working for them. Previously the county had granted us a stay of execution, until New Year's Day. So naturally, we are upset and confused with this registered letter. Today I must pack up my mini motorhome and move to a campground. Talk about Scrooge coming for a visit!  Bah humbug. Orange County, Florida has some vicious laws and apparently, their word is no good. The county code enforcer tells us one thing, then does another!  Shame on him. It sure put a damper on things. The closest campground is thirty minutes away by car or RV, so that is not going to be much help at all. I don't own a car.  According to the county laws here in Orange County Florida, where Orlando is located, you are NOT allowed to have a mini motorhome, nor a boat,  on your private property without a special permit, that apparently is impossible to obtain. 

Naturally, over the last 6 weeks of being here, I have settled in, which means my belongings are scattered around the motorhome, rather than all tucked away in cabinets for travel.  I had pulled out the mountain of paperwork, threatening to overload me, to sort through it all. I have fallen hopelessly behind on paperwork. Computers were supposed to save trees and drastically cut down on paperwork. WHAT HAPPENED?  Before computers, if you bought one item at a store, you got about a one inch piece of slender register tape. Now if you buy one item at a store, you are likely to get a 12 inch strip of wide register tape, double printed on both sides. 


I signed up for electronic billing where ever possible, but still my mailbox is stuffed with paper mail and advertisements. So anyhow, I have paperwork scattered everywhere, that is in the process of being sorted out.  I don't know if there is time to finish it all, so I probably have to just toss it all back into baskets, and deal with it after I move again.


While cleaning up, I find junk to toss out and stuff to give away. I think I should sort through my meager clothing selection and give away anything I haven't worn in the past year. Living in a tiny space, means constantly culling the chaos. I sure don't want to live all packed out like a pack rat. I have seen others do that, and I hope I never ever join their leagues.

Less is best. I know that is so un-American, for me to say and think that.  In America, it seems at every opportunity,  we are assaulted with aggressive marketing that we need more, more, more.

Speaking of more...

Santa Claus brought me a gift certificate. So guess what, I get to go buy more, more, more...  It's for  a store that sells clothing and home items at discount. I don't need anymore clothes, I already have 4 winter outfits, so I am going to check out their bed comforters, plus I want a pair of tongs with the silicone tips,  for the kitchen. I feel so spoiled, I didn't think Santa Claus would even find us this year, but he did. I am so lucky!  Yippie!

Now I have to find a new part time job and a new place to camp or park. Life is never dull. I am just so c-c-cold, it's hard to think about all this stuff I have to do. This job was supposed to last until spring, now it's abruptly ending.

This past year has been a constant test of humility. The more I try to make things better, the more brick walls are thrown up in front of me. Through the grace of angels, have I been lucky enough to survive and write about it. Lucky me!  Yippie!

 

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Saturday, December 25, 2010

Naughty and Nice

MERRY CHRISTMAS
To All
From
Dear Miss Mermaid

Ho ho ho!  Santa Claus is wore out from his worldwide travels last night. 


He has  fled by sled to the sunny Caribbean, to an undisclosed location, for a much needed rest. 






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Friday, December 24, 2010

My Gift To You

This is my Merry Christmas, Happy Holidaze yule log, complete with a beautiful rendition of  "Silent Night" that will surely make you pause for the cause.   You can have your own copy on your computer for free (see below).  It's my gift to any and all gentle readers who would love to have their very own fireplace. 








You can download your own version to your computer for free, a tiny gift from little old Dear Miss Mermaid. There is no malware or virus.  Just right click on this link and select "Save target as" then the download will begin. 

If you live in an RV, or somewhere without a fireplace, enjoy this download to play anytime you like.




I guess you are wondering why you might want a fireplace video on your computer. Well, in the Caribbean, we didn't have fireplaces. The last few years, when I was not working Christmas Day, I had friends over for dinner and holiday cheer.  I had previously spent years working the holidays either as a charter yacht chef or a private chef in  exotic vacation villas.  I remember the first Christmas I didn't have to work, it was a strange feeling, not to be working hard to make someone else's Christmas holidays near perfect with sumptuous foods and stress free entertainment. 


Back in the Caribbean, my office was set up in the corner of the living room, of my small apartment, so my laptop was always parked at the desk. I would put my fireplace video on repeat and let it play nonstop in full screen mode, during the holidays, when I wasn't working at the computer. Naturally, my friends found this rather hilarious. It helped to put us in a festive mood. 


Later I uploaded my fireplace video with "Silent Night" for others to enjoy at YouTube (identical to the above version).  


If you want the YouTube links to embed this video into your own webpage or blog, you can find it here:
Christmas Yuletide Log from DearMissMermaid.com MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY HOLIDAYS
Just follow the instructions for embedding into your web code or blog. 

I hope these instructions work fine, if not you can email me at info@DearMissMermaid.Com 


Happy Holidays to one and all. 


Feel free to share this blog with your friends. 


May you have a wonderful holiday!  I pray you have a stress free time, that your belly is fed and that you are well loved. I certainly love you all, for stopping by today. 


If you have too many leftovers, remember there are numerous homeless people, right in your town. Many are fed at Christmas by charities, but many are not fed at all, the days following Christmas. 


Don't like what Santa Claus brought you this year?  Wrap it back up and pass it on to someone who needs it. 


Please don't be scared of homeless people. The vast majority are honest sane people, who fell on hard times. Most are not criminals at all, a clear misconception people often assume about the homeless.  A tiny minority are lost in their tortured souls, physically or mentally unable to keep body and soul together on a regular basis. 


As one homeless man explained to me, "If I were a criminal, I wouldn't be homeless. Criminals rob, steal or cheat to make a living.  I'm just an honest man who fell on bad times." 


Spread the cheer. Smile.  Smiling, even when you are alone, will instantly make you feel better. 

A Big Thank You To The Angels
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Thursday, December 23, 2010

Greedy Fun

Ho ho ho!  Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, all that wonderful stuff and oh yeah, pray for whirled peas!

It's 56f degrees in Orlando, Florida. Upstate South Carolina is expecting a white Christmas, virtually unheard of, sure to break some records.  I grew up there as a child, well, heck, I guess most of us are children as we grow up.  We always hoped for a white Christmas and it never happened. Indeed we wished for snow because the schools and businesses would close. Everyone would dash to the grocery store, at the mere threat of a snow flake falling on our southern town, stocking up food to feed an army, for weeks, as if the grocery store might vanish overnight. Then we went home, built fires in the fireplace in case there was a sudden power outage (back then, there never was) plus cook up a mountain of food.

Then we waited for the snow. If it hadn't snowed by bedtime, we pretended to go to bed, then got back up, opened up the bedroom curtains, anxiously watching out the windows, waiting for that first snowflake. If we fell asleep, we tried to get up at the crack of dawn, to see if it had snowed, to see if school was cancelled. It was a free winter holiday and we loved it.

If someone spied a snowflake, day or night,  the yell would resonate through the house "IT'S SNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWING!!!" 

After we were dressed from head to toe in moth ball smelly clothes, mittens, hats and scarves, we were allowed outside to study the snow, to taste a snow flake on a tongue, to gather round with the neighborhood kids, wildly speculating just how much white stuff we would get.  We discussed whether it would be soft or hard, or heavy, whether we could have snowball fights or maybe even enough to put a snow man in every front yard. Would there be enough to fly down Bridges Hill on the top of an old metal garbage can lid.

Back then we all had big hefty metal garbage cans in our backyards. The government sent men out twice a week to hike through our unfenced yards, to retrieve our garbage, then haul our garbage out to a truck on the street.  Those dome sized lids were perfect for sitting on the top of them, then flying down the snowy covered hill.  So once it snowed, the lids of our garbage cans would be hopelessly dented, warped or flattened, depending on the weight of the child abusing it.

The hardware store must have loved it, when some of the fussier households, bought new garbage can lids, once all threat of snow was removed from our forecasts. Like in June or July. Mind you it typically snowed in January or February and only for one day, two if we were extremely lucky.

It rarely snowed in those days, weather patterns for that area were different than they are now. It snowed maybe a total of 8 times in 5 years if were fortunate. I can virtually remember almost every snow day we ever had.

At some point, our mothers would insist we come home to thaw out. We peeled off our many layers of clothes, these were hung to dry by the furnace ducts or near the roaring fire. We were handed mugs of Hot Chocolate as if our very lives depended on this sustenance. Southern moms were extremely worried about frost bite.

If the snow finally piled up, we spent another 20 minutes putting our layers of clothes back on, then out to the streets and yard, to have snowball fights, to fall into the frozen creek, to ride down a hill on the top of the metal garbage can lid, because we had no sleds.  Southerners were not going to waste money on sleds.

We ooohed and aaahed at the "Yankee transplants" that brought their wool coats and sleds with them. We thought those kids were the luckiest in the world to have a real sled. The radio or TV would broadcast all day, for everyone to stay home, do not get out on the roads.

It was pure fun, life was GOOD!  If we managed to build a snowman, the old cameras were pushed into use, a parent would run outside (kids weren't allowed to use such delicate equipment) and take pictures of the snowmen or the yard or the house. Our family album recorded every snowfall, every snowman. That was the 60's in upstate South Carolina.

Today, 2010,  I was tremendously saddened when I learned that both K-mart and Walmart plan to be open Christmas Day. I just think that is horrendous. Corporate greed in the worst way. I feel terribly sorry for the employees.

I though Waffle House was the only business that stayed open 24/7 including Christmas and Thanksgiving. I thought everyone  else was supposed to CLOSE for Christmas.

It's a sacred holiday for many, as well as a festive one for the vast populace. A time to spend with family or loved ones or both, depending on how your family stacks up...

I bet the executives who made the decision to have their workers show up on Christmas Day will NOT be in their offices, but snug at home with their loved ones. Shame on them.

Can't we have just ONE day a year when everything closes down (except Waffle House?)


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Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Ya Better Watch Out!

Hello my dear friends, gentle readers, fellow RV-ers, dog lovers, cat lovers, Mermaid lovers and  treasured Angels.

Nice of you to stop by! 

I just realized that today is the 22nd of December but my archive only shows 13 blogs for the month. I typically post everyday, so now I need to check my drafts. Maybe some got lost along the way, are stuck somewhere, never posted.  For a few daze I was flying pie on pain hills, so no telling what happened in my boggy brain.

Soon, I hope to hit the road, well, I haven't much choice. The local government regulations are against the homeowners allowing me to park my small motorhome on their property. Two of the occupants are disabled, hence I was summoned to come help out the family.

Everyone is a bit upset at this turn of events, but still we are striving to make the holidays cheerful and stress free. The big bad county inspector, did see it in his bureaucratic heart to grant us a temporary reprieve. But that runs out the end of December and Ho Ho Ho, I have 9 days to relocate. I guess he didn't want a lump of coal in his stocking this year.

I have NO idea where I am going. Somewhere in the semi-warm-cold sun belt of the lower 48.

My canine kid, Wolfman Harley, has loved being here too, because he has playmates, and other humans to shower his love on. But he still likes being "an only pet"  something that could be a problem, if I get a kitty.

I surely miss my cats. Getting used to this goofy dog with the scrappy looks has been interesting, no doubt.  There is no kitty in my future. Just one of those things I sort of dream about, everything I see a cat. I miss my cats. Boo hoo hoo. 

I was in an RV parts store that had two gorgeous cats for staff. One was a beautiful blond tabby that loved to talk. He was giving me quite a sales pitch too. The other was a huge fluffy black cat with beautiful long fur that was louging on top of a bathtub box. She appeared to be immaculately groomed. Indeed she spent much of her time washing and primping while I was longingly gazing at kitchen sinks while taking sidelong glances at the big kitty. She momentarily stopped her grooming, glared at me, as if to say, "You had better buy something to keep my tuna bowl full."

The lady cashier, looked at the price of my little part, declaring she had one much cheaper, if I would take it in black plastic, rather than metal, which is what I wanted in the first place. That  change saved me 60%.  Whew!  What a nice helpful lady. I guess those cats want to keep her in line, keep the customers happy so we come back again.

Well, I am off and running, doing errands for others. Driving in big city traffic is my least favorite thing, but my puppy is going along for the ride, so at least I won't be lonesome.

I just piled on boots, long pants, and a heavy sweater.  Now I see the outside temperature has risen to 66F. Oh my gosh. Do I have to change my clothes again?  I guess I will drive with the windows down and enjoy some cool winds.  At least I won't be cold.  

 
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Monday, December 20, 2010

Angels and Miracles

Hello my dear friends, gentle readers, fellow RV-ers, dog lovers, cat lovers, Mermaid lovers and treasured Angels.  Thanks for stopping by. 

I just realized that I keep changing my blog banner, but if you get this by subscription or feed, you miss out on my changing picture banners.

Today I was thinking how truly lucky I am to be alive, almost well and very happy,  for the holiday season of 2010. Last Christmas, I was still terribly ill, on many prescriptions, grieving over my lost pets and wondering if each breath could be my last.

A dear old friend had me over to his house one evening when I was on my last hurrah. He made us dinner, had a roaring log in the fireplace, and his house was festively decorated for Christmas. He claimed it was for his children, which were on a temporary overnighter elsewhere. They would surely be suprised when they came home to find ornaments hanging in the potted plants, plus all manner of colorful lighting and candles. Musical boxes, old fashioned toys, snowmen, exsquiaite ornaments, garlands, and nativity scenes were thoughtfully placed around the entire home.

There were so many cords crammed everywhere, I asked him if his homeowners' insurance was up to date. I knew much of the adornment  was for him, that he had a blast emptying out his attic, decorating every room in his house with his own style of unique yuletide spirit, surprising his children, upon their return the next day.  Even the guest bathroom was festooned with holiday spirit.

I took out my camera and began photogrpahing odds and ends.  He wore a Santa's hat looking rather festive. At some point, he adorned my head with reindeer antlers.   Alas, the horrible side effects of one of the prescriptions often gave my hands a palsied tremor. Sadly, many of the pictures I took of his whimsical decor came out blurry. A few came out really nice. Some I incorporated into my holiday banner for this blog.  (I have duplicated a smaller version of  it at the bottom of this, for the email subscribers.)

As the evening wore on, in 2009, I tried not to think this might very well be my last Christmas.  Though it wasn't officially Christmas day, I was thrilled my friend had gone out of his way to make such a difficult time for me, so cheerful and jolly. We sloshed around with eggnog, he played piano, then I played piano. I had not tickled the keys in years, it being so hard to find real pianos in the Caribbean, where I had spent the past 22 years. 


2009 was my first Christmas in America since 1986.


My friend had some of my old music books. We found the Christmas songs. I sat down, and tentatively played a song. Then the next. I played for what seemed like hours, until every Christmas song was done. A few I played twice, as my fingers warmed up, I wanted to improve my style.

I wore a bright red sweater, I had picked up at a nearly new shop for cheap. He took pictures of me plus some of my long hair, while I was standing at the fireplace, poking away at the logs. When I saw the pictures, later, I was so startled at how distored my face was, swollen up round, like a water balloon about to burst. Just another evil side-effect of one of the many drugs the doctors thought I needed for the rest of my life.  


Just getting up to walk around was so exhausting, I wondered if I looked at the floor, would I be  wading around in molasses? A few times I became ill at my friend's house, having to rest and meditate while choppy waves stormed around my reality.   My friend pretended not to notice, keeping up a steady stream of banter.  


Now twelve months later, lucky me, here it is 2010 and by golly, I've made it to another Christmas season!  
I have more stamina, my face is regaining a normal shape, the trembling hands are gone. Against medical advice, I chose a different course for my healing. 



Eventually, I gave up on the doctors and drugs. I could no longer afford their care nor cost. I just wanted to be comfortable and happy. I was convinced the numerous so-called side-effects of the various chemicals filling my body were possibly creating even more medical problems, than they were supposedly curing. 



Throughout that magical evening, in 2009, my friend remained upbeat, positive  and at times quite humorous. We laughed and cut up like children ourselves. It was such a peaceful lovely time for me. For a glorious evening,  everything was wonderful.  I pretended I was in perfect health, while I secretly prayed for  angels, miracles and Santa Claus. 

Five months later, I adopted little Wolfman Harley, a ragamuffin poohuahua who was severely malnourished and had the energy of a sleepy turtle. We had a few things in common all ready. When I asked if they knew how old he was, they said, yes,  he was born Christmas Day 2009.  

It seems to me, I got my angels, miracles, God and even Santa Claus was listening last year. The Christmas puppy eventually found his way, in to my life.


Angels surfaced in my darkest hours. It's a miracle, we are both alive and looking forward to enjoying Christmas 2010. 


I am one lucky Mermaid.   


I have God, angels, miracles, and Santa Claus, sent me  a puppy too. 






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