Another Circus and Nostalgia

 Ebaida said that I go to more circuses than any adult she's ever heard of.  What can I say?  I like them.

I hadn't planned on going to this one - it's the FSU circus, which is really good but I went twice last year.  But this is the last time Faith (who used to volunteer at the museum) would be performing (she's graduating) and a crew from the museum were going to go see it.

I had already had a mammogram (such fun) scheduled for that afternoon, which gave me some time to kill.  The imaging center is near Michael's Craft store, and I needed some more copper paint.  Bob and I used to go to Michaels (or Hobby Lobby) once every month or two "while we were out."  This was only my second time since I lost him.  I wrote about the first time a couple of years ago - when I had to be careful of my breathing and get out of there before I broke down, because I could almost see him there.  This time all the memories were there, but I was calmer about it.  I was thinking, however, that while I did look at stuff, and got my paint, and even a bird house for Dingo the squirrel, the sense of fun, potential, and "look at this" wasn't there.

I was thinking that said enthusiasm must have been one of the Bob things.  Then I thought - did I really believe that if positions were reversed, and he was the one in there alone, would he have been excited?  Likely not - so it was one of those things in the "Bob and Ann" overlap in the Venn diagram.

I finished that, went and had some dinner, and then headed to the circus because the parking lot fills up quickly.  I was quite early - I thought about just sitting in the car and reading, but it was a lovely afternoon so I took a walk.  It felt really strange.  I first came to FSU in 1971, and then returned and worked there 1982-2015 - and so much of it was now so unfamiliar.  I haven't been on campus much since I retired, and always on the other side.  My offices were always over there, as was Bob's his last few years.  There are a lot of buildings where there used to be open areas and roads (at least they built them with brick and old-style architecture).  But there are also walking esplanades where there were streets, and everything is beautifully landscaped.  I had to smile at one area of lovely greenway, complete with picnic tables, with a low depression running through it.  That used to be an open drainage ditch, called Budweiser Creek, that we use to make the ROTC pledges go slogging through.

Bob's workshop, a small outbuilding, was still there, unchanged (at least on the outside).  Even the cement picnic table where we had many lunches was still in place.  But, again, I wasn't triggered, or crying.  Just having thoughts like it was a lifetime lived by someone else.

Anyway, on to the circus, which is really a good one considering that it's all students.  And for once, I got to sit there with a group of friends to enjoy it, which was nice for a change.

I spent a couple of days sorting and washing a fleece that I got recently (I think I just like collecting wool).  Tonight I was social yet again - the annual volunteer appreciation party.

I have also been laughing at what I call the new "art installation."  Yesterday an armchair appeared not far from my mailbox, sitting on the edge of the road.

One would think that if it had fallen off a truck, it would not have landed upright and facing the road, and would have looked a little more beat up.  It's slightly tricky to drive around it to get to my mailbox, but it amuses me, and I'm curious to see how long it stays there.

A Few More Oddments

 I seem to be fluttering about ever since I finished the Big Barn Clean Out.  Sort of like having a project hangover.

A random Bob flashback.  When we were first starting to see each other, he invited me to an art show put on by his dormitory.  His entry was "White Chalk in B Major."  It was a piece of white chalk with "B Major" written on it, in a test tube, on a plaque labelled with the title.  

I knew that this was a guy that I wanted in my life.  (That piece of white chalk might still be around somewhere)

At the museum, one of the educators came to visit the baby beaver, and said that her husband thought a perfect name for a beaver would be "Merkin."  Three of us snorted and giggled.  The rest looked shocked when it was explained.  Then I had a moment, because I automatically thought "I can't wait to tell Bob this one."  In my mind, I can hear his howls of laughter.

After work, I went to the vet's office to pick up some flea and tick preventative.  The cats are all indoor cats now, and therefore don't get directly exposed, but any time I go outside I seem to find ticks on me - and I don't want to pass it on to them.  I was chatting with the receptionists about the tick problem, and the joy of the daily body check.  I related a story of the time that Bob spotted one on my back and was trying to get it off.  It hurt really badly; he kept digging at it with the tweezers, and I was bleeding, but he couldn't get it loose.  Then he grabbed his glasses, looked, and said "never mind - it's a mole."  That got laughter - and then they both talked about what a nice man he was, and that they missed him coming in.  That felt good, to know that they still remember and think fondly of him.

Those two events must of engendered the brief dream that I had.  I had come home and laid down for a bit after lunch.  I wasn't even completely asleep, but I had just a short dream.  I don't even remember it, other than that he was leaning back in a chair and laughing and reached out for my hand.  It was good to see him.

This morning I had to make an extra trip back to the museum because I managed to forget to turn in my keys yesterday.  There was a nice moment there - I hadn't seen one of the volunteers for a few months (our schedules haven't matched up).  I've written before that sometimes I wonder how the college kids feel being paired with someone the age of their grandparents - and relieved to find that they usually seem to like it.  She came over and gave me a hug - always welcome!

When I came home I put the second coat of paint on one of the ceiling panels.  I only have room in the cottage to paint one at a time.  Of course, now I have plenty of room in the barn, but the cardinals like to roost in there and I didn't want droppings on my paint job.  While it was drying I did some weed whacking for awhile.  And, easily distracted, decided that I needed to do some brush clearing.

So finished whacking, put the second coat of paint on the second panel, then got out the clippers to start clearing/cleaning up this area, which has azaleas (which I wanted to keep) and a lot of other stuff that needed to go.

There was a reason I wanted to tidy up this small plot.  It's actually a small graveyard.  The first animal in there was the goat of my heart, Don Simon Xavier Christian Moreno de la Cadena-Ysidro, aka "Sid".  Over time we had a few other goats - Shazbat, Franzie, and the Lady Dulcinea, as well as the one-eared sheep Vincent Lamb Gogh and the little black sheep Nekoosa DuBois.  But Sid and I really bonded.

One day at a store that had decorative cement statues I saw an amazing one that looked just like Sid.  Alas, it was a) quite expensive, and b) weighed a ton.  Some time later, Bob came home from the flea market, looking pleased with himself- and he had that statue in the truck.  Oddly - I can't remember how we got it out again (maybe Warren came to help us?)  But I loved it.

I knew it was in that overgrowth someplace.  After an hour or so of hacking and pulling, I had it back.

It brings back memories of sitting outside, letting the animals out to graze after work.  Of taking walks in the woods with them (they would follow us).  And of a man who would do darn near anything, just to see me smile.

Ramblings

 Time for another miscellaneous post.  In no particular order.

SPRING.  It's spring.  I have a hummingbird at the feeder.  The fireflies are out.  Unfortunately, so are the mosquitoes and ticks (I'm not too fond of my evening ritual of standing naked in front of the mirror, and also running my hands over myself to find the little bastards.) My turtle has shown back up again.

p 

She's been in the blog before.  I just find it amusing that she's been coming around for at least 5-6 years now, and will even walk up to me.

Also the borer bees are back.  I actually think they're cute, the way they will hover in the air and look at you.  But they are destructive - I had to wood putty and stain my front railings last year after they built their nests, and then the woodpeckers tore up the rails to get them out.  There are various ways of killing them, but I don't want that.  So to protect my rails, every time I see a new hole being built, I stuff steel wool into it.  They eventually get discouraged and go elsewhere.

FLEECE.  I have more wool than I have sense.  I love spinning it, but it's rarely cold enough here to wear anything.  And yet . . . I can't resist.  Someone on line was practically giving this one away, and it's a breed I haven't worked with yet (cross between Rambouillet and Columbia).  It's big - 6 pounds.  And, if nothing else, I have to get it washed before I store it.

BLOG.  Working on the blog.  I had mentioned that I wanted to save it, just in case this web page ever goes away.  Bit by bit I'm doing the copy and paste - and of course I have to read them as I go along, and a lot of that - especially in 2022 when I really faced my demons - is heartbreaking.  But it's also like doing a fast-forward through my healing process.

CEILING. The damned ceiling.  When the original owner added the bedroom extension on the house, he gave it a flat roof, which is a really stupid thing to do in a place with this much rain.  Periodically it leaks and we get it redone. Sometimes 10-15 years ago part of the ceiling fell in.  Putting up drywall on a ceiling was beyond us, and I hated the idea of paying a few thousand dollars for someone to put up a boring ceiling.  I loved the look of pressed tin ceilings, but the price of those is astronomical. Even the faux plastic tiles were ridiculous.  So, after talking to an artistic friend, I made my own tiles by covering square of luan with textured wallpaper and painting it.  Then using screws and liquid nails, we got it put up.  And I loved it.

A few years later, the roof leaked (in another area) and while they were replacing that part of the roof - part of the ceiling came in.  Heavy sigh, more luan, more wall paper, and rebuilt that part.

Come 2020, and not long after I lost Bob, heavy rain, roof leak, roof repair, and . . . part of the ceiling fell in.

And that's been the situation for almost four years.  I did, on one of their visits, get Rob to take to me Lowes and buy a sheet of luan.  And it stalled out there.  I couldn't manage a 4' x 8' sheet of luan to cut my 42" squares.  Every time the kids came to visit, I'd ask if we could get it cut - and be told "I'll bring my track saw next time - it's easier that way."  On the last family visit, when Rob and Don came over to see if they wanted anything in the barn before I cleaned it out, I said we were going to cut that damned wood.  Rob started with the "next time" and I cut him off, saying I had been hearing that for 3 1/2 years.  So with Rob and I holding it, Don grabbed the circular saw and I got my squares.  Granted, that was last last October, but I got involved with cleaning out the barn and repairing the chicken coop.

But I finally got my panels made.  First thing - I realized that I needed 41" squares, not 42" - but I was able to cut those myself.  They've been wallpapered and have the first coat of paint. (the edges look gnarly but I just have to trim them.

Next step is to take a good look up there.  The panel next to it is sagging because the drywall has fallen and it's just the luan holding it up.  I might have to pull that panel down (oh, fun) and replace it as well, which is why I made two.  And I need to buy some insulation.  But at least I'm moving forward.

READING:  When Jeff was here, he said he was trying to get back into the habit of reading, and had started with Moby Dick (seriously?  How about something fluffier?)  He was having a hard time motivating himself - so I offered to co-read.  MB can be a real slog (I know I've read it before, but it may have been abridged and it was when I was in my teens) until you accept that's it's mostly meditations on philosophy, human nature, and natural history, and just a bit of whaling adventure.  It's also a lot gayer than I remembered (Ishmael definitely has a thing for Queequeg).  Thing is - I had promised Ebaida to co-read another Victor Hugo novel when she had recovered from Ramadan (which is now over) so I need to get this finished.  And Jeff is going slowly.  So I'm taking notes to discuss things when he's ready.

SQUIRREL  Sometime last year, Heather at the museum asked if I would take and release some squirrels that she had raised.  She knows how to raise squirrels - raise them with other squirrels, and try not to imprint them.  One squirrel had other ideas; she warned me that Crazy would be all over me.  Not a problem - they generally get their natural wildness back.  Not in this case.  Crazy - now known as Crazy Ass - will still not hesitate to jump me and try to grab for peanuts (whether I have any or not).  I don't want this - squirrel bites hurt.  I do put out sunflower seeds and peanuts for the squirrels and birds every morning, but Crazy Ass is usually at the door waiting for me.

And when I start to open the door, the idiot squirrel will dash in - twice he's smacked straight into a cat. In both cases, fortunately, the cat was startled enough that I could chase him back outside again before he got grabbed.  Now the procedure is that I open the door just wide enough to poke a peanut out, wait for him to grab it and run off, then dash out and put the rest of the food out before he comes back.

Thing is - that's my sitting area out there, where I like to have my coffee and read.  But now, I have to put a line of peanuts on the rail first.  He doesn't eat them - just grabs, runs, hides, and comes back.  So I have to get up every few minutes and put down another line.  If I get involved in my book - next thing I know that little bastard is on me.

Glad that I rebuilt my swing out front so I have a place to sit and read without getting molested.  Yes - it's annoying.  And I could likely stop it if I just stopped putting any food out (which wouldn't be fair to the other squirrels and birds).  But it's also rather cute and Heather gets a kick out of it.

CHICKEN COOP.  I think it's finished.  The door wasn't meeting at the top, and I was trying to think of ways to fill the gap (only a couple of inches, but raccoons don't need much) when I realized it was hitting the top of the jamb.  Some attention with a hammer and a shim solved that problem.  I've been baiting the coop with stinky food for a week now, and will for another week, and then I'll just have to take a deep breath and put Rocky and Djali out.   My little chicks are getting bigger - and I'm starting to suspect that two of them are roosters.  Oops.

WALKING.  I finished my Hadrian's Wall (90 mile) challenge.  I was having mixed feelings about these Conqueror challenges, now that I've finished three.  On the plus side - they're fun.  At the end of the day you enter your walking mileage (I have a Fit app on my phone that counts steps).  It shows your total, what you have left, your place on the map, and you can tap a Google Earth icon and see where you are.  On the con side they're a little pricey ($35-$40) and while you do get a very nice enameled medal at the end - I don't really need medals.  I found my answer - I chose one where I circumnavigate Iceland - some 830 miles.  That ought to hold me for awhile.

OK - I think that has the random stuff caught up - and it's time for bed.

Eclipse and Deluge

 Two Events of Nature this week.  One expected, one not.

The first was the eclipse.  I like them.  I don't think they indicate anything (other than that the moon is passing in front of the sun), or expect the rapture, or the end of the world, or whatever.  They're interesting.

The day of - I realized that I hadn't grabbed any eclipse glasses.  I've never needed them before - Bob and I would trade off wearing the welder's helmet.  But in the early part of the Great Barn clean out a couple of years ago I gave the welding equipment to a friend who was learning.  Oops.  So no direct watching of the eclipse (except for a quick glimpse while wearing sunglasses and squinting).  What I really like doing during an eclipse is just to watch how the light changes, and how all the shadows seem strange.  And take picture of the shadows.

I also played with the idea of using binoculars to focus the image.  Taking the picture took a little maneuvering (it's suggested to fasten them to a tripod but I didn't plan far enough in advance to rig one up).  I ended up holding the binoculars in one hand, my phone in the other, and trying to cast a shadow over the background with my body.  Despite all the inherent wobbling the picture came out surprisingly well.

 

Michael took the whole thing a step farther.  Where he lives there would be about 94% totality.  He decided that wouldn't be enough.  I remember for the 2017 eclipse he was really waffling about whether he wanted to fly somewhere to see it.  He got as far as almost buying airline tickets.  Problem is - he didn't want to get there only to find that weather rolled in (I'm thinking of all the people in Texas who couldn't see a thing).  But this year, totality would be *only* 180 miles away.  On the morning of, he decided to go for it.  Fortunately he left early.  Normally it would be somewhat under a 3 hour drive.  He allowed 4 hours, which would give him time to find parking, and a place to view the entire eclipse, and eat his sandwich.

It sounded like a good idea, and would have been if a few thousand other people didn't have the same idea.  The drive took 7 hours, but he still was there 20 minutes before totality.  And it was worth it.  He said that pictures can't capture what it actually looks and feels like, or the midnight blue color of the sky, or the "diamond ring" as the sun begins to emerge again.

The next US full eclipse, in 2045, will be happening right over Tallahassee.  21 years from now.  It's a little unnerving to think that I might still be around for it.  I'm not going to think about that.

The second even was a major deluge Wednesday night.  The rain started around 9 p.m. and didn't let up until after 4 a.m.  We're not talking a gentle benediction from the heavens - this was arc-building weather.  The thunder would roll on so long and so loudly that at times I wondered if it was a tornado and stayed towards the center of the house.  It was impossible to sleep - the rain hitting the roof so loudly, and the thunder that was rattling the windows, and the lightening strobing like a disco.  I moved to the couch - it's farther from a window than my bed, and I don't trust that stupid flat roof in the bedroom (just because the ceiling has fallen in three times . . .)  I kept the weather alerts on, so my phone kept giving notifications (flash flood warnings, but no tornadoes)

And at times like this I really miss Bob.  It was a long and lonely night.  I tried not to worry about what could happen (tree fall on the house, maybe?).  Whatever would happen, I could deal with it.  It would have been comforting, though, to have him here, if only to have someone to talk to during that sleepless night (he would have had the TV on and checking the radar every few minutes).

But it finally wore itself off, and I got a few hours of sleep.  I fared much better than a lot of people because the house is on an elevation.  Some areas got 10 inches of rain; there was a lot of flooding of property, houses, and cars, and many roads damaged or in some cases washed out completely.  At least one family had an alligator show up in their yard.  

But it has been followed by some more beautiful weather and I'm spending as much time outside as I can.  I think (hope!) I'm done with the chicken coop - I put a plate of tuna in it tonight to see if any raccoons get in.  Fingers crossed.  The chicks are getting bigger, so I'll be needing it soon.  (I'm also starting to suspect that a couple of them are rooster - oops.

Bread and Circuses

 I've been working a lot lately.  First the barn, then the chicken coop, and more recently a lot of work with the brush cutter, weed whacker, and loppers so that the forest doesn't encroach too much.

But today I went to the circus.  What can I say?  I like circuses.  Especially this one - the Royal Hanneford Circus.  It's been owned by the same family for 8 generations (with some of the 4-6 year old performers being the 9th generation).  Just an old-fashioned circus that makes me use words like "innocent" and "wholesome".  Just seeing the Big Top set up in the field made me feel like a little kid.

They had tumblers and trapeze artists and motorcycles-in-a-cage and trained dogs and goats and ponies and horses and cows (the last was a new one for me).  Circus stuff.

I looked back at my blog post last year at this time when I went to this circus.  At the time I was waffling.  I sort of wanted to go, but it seemed like a lot of effort to get dressed and do the drive just to sit by myself.  Finally, I called a friend who said it sounded like fun and that he would meet me there.  But he ended up falling asleep on the couch and was a no-show (last year being my year of people standing me up).  So I was a little uneasy and self conscious - looking around, I was pretty sure that a) I was the oldest person in the audience and b) I was the only person who was alone.  But, setting my ego aside, I was likely the only person there who noticed these things.

This year was different.  The circus came to town, and I went, because I like circuses, and - to use one of my mother's favorite phrases - I didn't give a rat's ass about being older and alone.  I went to enjoy it, and I did (and ate a huge bag of ridiculously expensive popcorn).

On the way home I pulled into a gas station that now also has a new Mexican bakery.  Fresh sweet rolls were just coming out of the oven - I had one with a mug of milk when I came home.  The other will be for breakfast tomorrow.

Bread and Circuses - give the people what they want.

Saving the Blog

 I remember the fallen,

Do they think of me?

Bones of the Ocean by the Long Johns

I had a quiet panic attack when I realized that I had lost a blog post.  I am so trusting of technology - I just trust the blog to always be here.  I did have a problem with my original blog (News From The Swamp) when through a series of glitches I lost the ability to be able to write any more entries.  I lived without it for several months, then decided that I missed it and began this one (hence, Return to the Swamp)

What if they disappeared?  I started the original in 2010, so it's a record of 14 years of my life.  I realized that I needed a backup.

Guess what?  Not easy.  I followed instructions, which results in something called a .xml file, which you have to do post by post, and it ends up just being a gobbledy gook of code that nothing I own knows how to read.  The only thing I've found that will transfer the entire blog is a service that will turn it into an actual book.  I'd like that.  The downside is that for my original blog - even before I began this compulsive writing - would be close to $500.  That's a lot to spend for something sight unseen.

So until I can find a better way, it's cut and paste, one post at a time.  Since I began "Return" I've done 254 posts.  This might take awhile.  I want to get "Return" saved first; then I'll go back to the original.

I have to say that doing this kind of hurts.  I started "Return" in 2018.  So that first year or so is rather fluffy and downright innocent.  It's weird to read a post in June about baby possums or fluffy baby vultures - not knowing that before the next post Bob would be diagnosed.

There are major differences in the two blogs.  The original one was always positive, about the cool things in life, and written as carefully crafted essays.  And lots of pictures.  Bob would often ask, "is this a blog-worthy moment?"    Sad stuff was not mentioned - a major example being that in the time period - 2010 - 2018, we lost all four of our parents.  Never mentioned.  The blog was the happy place.

Now it's stream-of-consciousness writing, not nearly as many pictures, and it's become my grief journal.  That's not necessarily a bad thing.  In the past, for the bad stuff, I had Bob to share it with me, someone to hold, taking care of each other.  Now - I have me.  And I have Last Year Self and Yesterday Self and Tomorrow Self and Next Year Self.  It's become an internal conversation, leaving a trail of bread crumbs.  Letting me know that I can handle this.

Whatever it is, I don't want to lose it, so there's a lot of cut-and-pasting to do unless I find a better way.  Which also means rereading everything, and some of it hurts (such as how many cats I've lost, and three friends)

Now another passing memory (I'm thinking again of my friend Los, who, without fail, writes daily memories of his life with his wife).  I was cooking the other day, and grabbed some garlic.  I remembered a time that he was cooking dinner - which likely was some version of sausage, peppers, and onions.  I heard swearing coming from the kitchen:  "blankety blank blank, I *know* that we just bought garlic but it's not here."  I yelled out "On the counter to the left of the stove."  He yelled back "I looked there - we don't have any."

I walked in the kitchen, looked at the counter, and said "Didja look in the garlic keeper??"  I took the lid off the little terracotta pot and handed him the bulb of garlic.  For some reason he was still annoyed.  (For the record, I had only bought the keeper a week or so prior during one of our trips to Goodwill)

I think he muttered something like "stupid place to keep garlic"

Another memory popped up, when I was thinking about how much I miss just talking together.   There was one time at work when his co-worker (a curmudgeon bachelor) looked at him and asked "You and Ann live together, right?  And don't you even carpool?  And eat lunch together?"  Bob answered in the affirmative to both.  "Then why the heck do you call her during the day?"  Bob just shrugged "I like talking to her."  Because we would sometimes call each other at work, sometimes because something interesting had happened, or just to say hi because we didn't want to go 8 hours without talking to each other.  I miss that.

On to the cut-and-paste.