12 Oakdale

After Dad married Marcella, Thanksgiving was when our blended families got together for a big meal with my sisters, stepsisters, current husbands, children, grandchildren, stepchildren, and friends. The people who wanted sage in the dressing argued with those that didn’t. The turkey was dry, the cranberry sauce canned. It was wonderful. When Dad died, I assumed I would continue this tradition with my children and their families. My birthday is always near Thanksgiving, so we could celebrate both at the same time. Plus everyone has Black Friday off, (except retail workers of course), so a long weekend for me to enjoy my family. And everyone could go their chosen ways at Christmas. Perfect. Return to reality. This year, Spaulding, Molly, and Ryann had to work Friday. My kids are spread all over the country. No annual all-family celebration tradition any more.  Instead, a delightful dinner with way too much food (okay, that’s the same) at Steph’s. Kyle cooked a turkey, they made over ...

CC came Monday this week to finish digging out the torpedo grass that has taken over part of my front flower bed. I had culverted a big area of swamp twinflower (Dyschoriste humistrata), but while we were away, the grass covered and killed it. Nothing to be done but start over. While she dug, I cut back salvias to encourage new growth. We began hearing the beep, beep, beep of heavy equipment backing up. The house across the canal was being torn down. Diane, the previous owner, sold when she couldn’t get a variance to put in a pool closer to the canal than current regulations allow. Assuming the new house will be the usual 2-story, I wonder if the new owner will figure how to fit in a pool. Much speculation among the neighbors.  Wednesday, we sat over at the Orange County courthouse all day while Stephanie spent more time and money getting divorced. I wasn’t allowed in the courtroom because I was a potential witness about how we had bought her house and who paid what. I was never ca...

I finally had the courage to trim our 3 blackberry bushes. After reading and watching YouTube, I hope I’ve cut back the spent flora canes and left new primo canes to bloom and bear fruit next year. Unless I did it wrong, and we have to wait a whole year. Or if I’ve waited too late in the year. Florida’s growing schedule is so different from the rest of the country. In any case, they are trimmed and tied to their supports. I used the Trellised Production Using Primocane Suppression, TPUPS, system which keeps only 2 primocanes. The volunteer blackberry bushes that sprang up , from roots we didn’t dig out are also tied up. I trimmed off lower leaves (one YouTuber talked a lot about a disease that starts on lower leaves), assuming that all of them were primo canes. They and the bananas will have to work out who owns the area. I used the Florida system for the Roma tomatoes, stringing jute twine back and forth between 3 7’ stakes. The middle plant doesn’t look particularly good. If it doesn...

I am so pleased with how my painting the flamingo bathroom turned out. I’ve been thinking about doing it since we moved in. It had to be done. We’d hung our art on existing hooks and ignored the holes left when anchors had been removed.   I dithered about what color to pain the walls. Pink? What about FLAMINGO PINK? Too cliche? What about green as a counterpoint to pink? The glass tiles are grey, as are the floor tiles. I brought home paint chips and dithered. My friend Kathy suggested a brown to match part of the shower curtain. That would be different. I brought home more paint chips. I love my flamingos, but they need to be contained. Spaulding’s piano teacher, who also accompanied Patten and Mary at cello competition, was a flamingo fanatic. Her whole house was filled with flamingos. At Christmas, she staged a reenactment of the nativity scene in her front yard, using flamingos, with a flamingo Beany Baby for baby Jesus, who didn’t appear in the manager until Christmas Day. At ...

Part 1: I filled in the online forms to be a poll worker when we moved to Orange County. Even though I’d been a precinct clerk in Broward for many years, the rules up here are that one has to be a lesser worker the first time out. Fine by me, but when they asked me to be a poll deputy for the August primaries, I decided perhaps a 74-year-old was not the best option for crowd control. I declined that opportunity.  The person calling said she’d put me down as “doesn’t want to work”. I suggested perhaps another position; that seemed a no op. Okay then. I tried again for the fall election. Hurricane Milton arrived the day I was supposed to have my online orientation. This time, when I called about rescheduling, I was offered a clerk position, but I would be out of town for the remaining training sessions, so no. Could I come in that night to be trained as a backup epoll worker, the person who checks in potential voters. Sure.  Election eve, I slept badly, waking up hourly after mi...

It has begun to cool in the evenings. Each morning, I open the bedroom and dining room doors, then put up the living room window so Gracie can enjoy looking out. When I hear the AC turn on, I close up the house. Today, the AC never started up. It was 70° outside when we went to bed. It’s Fall. Tuesday, CC and I weeded around the tomato ring. Wednesday, I planted 3 Big Boys, 1 heritage Purple Cherokee, and 1 Florinada around it. At least that’s what I think I planted. All of my labels were faded. I’d started the seeds in pots before we went to New Zealand, and I had anticipated coming home to lush plants. Didn’t happen. After 3 weeks of solid rain, I’d had Steph turn off the mist system. The next 3 weeks were bone dry. I came home to almost bare sticks. Crossing my fingers and planting the little tomatoes deep, I hope we will have some fruit this year. I cobbled together an anti-bunny fence of screen held up with bamboo stakes around the ring. I don’t know if bunnies eat tomatoes, but s...