12 Oakdale

After trying every single time one was offered, I finally nabbed a reservation at Michael Heizer’s land art work City. Sunrise, July 21, which means we will meet our transportation at 3:45 AM. Ouch. At least it will be cool. I immediately made flight, car rental, and motel bookings for a 2 day trip. We are crazy. This weekend, Patten took Brightline up, bringing 2 mangos (first crop ever) from his tree. He made us daiquiris to celebrate Father’s Day and Grant’s 83rd birthday. Stephanie joined us for lunch on Sunday, bringing a delicious chocolate cake.  Clara painted flowers on my rain barrel, and I channeled Dad, creating a stand for it from wood I already had and painting it with the purple paint left from our back door. Only expense was $8 for white spray paint, which Clara covered with brown, and the $20 tip I gave Rodrigo for installing the rain chain ($150 from Wayfair). In 2022, he had replaced the lanai gutter so it came out through the screen (Terry from Integrity Screens ...

76 and amazed how well I feel. Still fraying around the edges, but my core is holding. So where am I, where am I going? Not waxing philosophically.  Too much to do, both short term (pumpkin pies to bake today plus I want to work in the yard, and I’d really like to paint, but that’s not possible with grandchildren around, which I wouldn’t trade for a second) and long term (although we are slowing down, I still want to spend a month or more in Europe, especially France and Italy. And Spain. And England, plus we really should drive around our Southwest.) As ever, I am shedding stuff but not as far along as I’d like. More and more, things mean less and less to me. For example, Windermere Garden Club is fundraising by collecting broken gold and silver jewelry to be traded in for cash. I am going to donate single earrings whose mate is irretrievably lost. I’d hoped to have them made into something. Now I know what it is: a donation. The pictures and other nostalgia still loom, and the sc...

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 ...

Friday we planted the 6 plants I’d bought at Green Isle Nursery to create a hedge between us and our neighbors to the south. Two wax myrtles ( Morella cerifera ), 1 shiny leafed coffee ( Psychotria nervosa ), 1 yellow star anise ( Illicium parviflorum ), 1 Simpson's stopper ( Myrcianthes fragrans ), 1 Florida privet ( Froesteriam segregata ), and 1 mountain mint ( Pycnanthemum sp). Alan said they would all do well under the oak tree, except the mint, which needs more sun. Crossing my fingers. We finished and cleaned up so we could have lunch with our MEG group at the Wandel’s in Kissimmee, then lead the session, recycling the Joy worksheet we’d used with our Zoom group. If we hadn’t had a play at Orlando Shakes that evening, we would have packed for south Florida and saved ourselves the 45 minute trip back and forth. But we did have theater tickets to What the Constitution Means to Me  since our Thursday night performance had been canceled. I was slightly dreading the show, assumin...

I woke up this morning and realized I have nothing hanging over my head. I could work in the yard, get caught up on financial paperwork, or bake bread, but nothing is overdue. Just the steady drumbeat of life. Last week I was crazed with shower preparations, and even though I had a schedule and was really on top of it, I woke up a couple of nights obsessing about all the different tasks. It all got done.  People seemed to enjoy the party, and Spaulding and Molly were pleased. We did run low on bbq and have tons of potato salad and cole slaw left, but that might be just because the guests included lots of young men. * My orange cake was a hit, and my mini cupcakes were delicious. I also made cookie gun almond cookies. I was pleased with the results. This week, I had a Toastmasters speech to prepare for my Presentation Mastery pathway. and one last survey to complete to finish my Engaging Humor pathway. I had been putting the latter off for almost 3 months. Tuesday morning, I got up,...

We’d gone to Fort Lauderdale to celebrate Patten’s birthday, bringing the watermelon cake he’d requested. He said I’d made one for his birthday many years ago. That recipe was long gone with all the cook books I’d tossed when I sold 14th Court. Onto the internet for a recipe where I found one using watermelon-flavored Jello. None at Publix, but three brands at Wal-Mart: Jell-O, Sonic, and Starburst. Do those customers do a lot of Jello shots? I opted for the Sonic, which claimed it tastes just like their slushee. Could be. Because the frosting was buttercream, I’d had Grant put our camping fridge in the truck to keep the cake cold on the trip down. It thawed while we watched the Miami Dolphins beat the Baltimore Ravens 42-38. Actually, I watched while Patten, Ryann, and Grant went to the grocery store. They’d left at the beginning of the 4th quarter, Ravens leading 35 to 7, with the Dolphins not looking good. Fortunately, Patten keeps his phone on so they saw the comeback while they sh...