Dog Days In Florida

As the temp hits 85F/29.4c outside and a rather too warm 82F/28c inside, it's time to close the doors and windows and turn on the air conditioning.

Apart from not being able to see the laptop screen for sweat in my eyes, the other sign that it's too warm in here is to look at Pixie, our small long haired dachshund. She just flops down on the carpet wherever her little legs have taken her.

She has several bed options and when the mornings were chillier a few weeks ago, she loved to leave her living room bed and stroll out to the lanai and lie in a sunbeam. She'd even move as the sunbeam crossed the floor as the morning passed into the afternoon.

A dog's life ? You betcha.

But as well as protecting us from rogue sunbeams, she also "protects" us from the approach of strangers. And friends. And the Fedex driver. And other dogs. And cats, rabbits, birds and gators. Basically she'll bark at the approach of anything with a pulse. Us included.

Of course once a human actually comes right up the drive to the screen door, she'll stand threateningly on the other side until they speak to her and then she'll roll over on her back and all four stumpy legs will quiver with excitement at the idea of her tummy being rubbed.

Experts in canine evolution are as yet uncertain if this survival policy is any use whatsoever but as long haired dachshunds are not an endangered species, I have to think it's a pretty damn clever policy.

I suspect possums learned it from dachshunds and then took it one stage further.

But like most teenagers, Pixie has to earn her keep around the house so as well as fending off over friendly gators and directionally challenged snakes, she does her chores. One of these chores is to vacuum the kitchen floor and this she does with enthusiasm after the preparation of every meal.

Be it fixing basic cereal or using a multitude of ingredients to prepare a mouthwatering evening meal, once we've left the kitchen for the dining table, Pixie moves in to sweep up. Actually she likes to move in BEFORE we leave but tends to get shouted at and runs the risk of being stepped on. It's often a risk she feels is worth taking !

In the kitchen, she comes into her own. Nature may have given her short legs and an undersized body but these are perfect physical attributes for getting her snout into every corner of the kitchen floor. Speaking of snouts, her's would put an anteater to shame.

It's like the attachment on a vacuum cleaner and she uses it just as effectively.

The downside to this behaviour is that she often picks up items that are both unwanted and inedible as her hovering isn't confined to the kitchen floor. The lanai itself is fair game as is the laundry room, bathrooms and bedrooms. Ironically she's worked out that 'goodies' are seldom if ever to be found around the carpeted edges of the living room so we just have to vacuum in here ourselves ! Pah !!

Given this ability to get into every corner of the house, we're used to seeing Pixie wandering around with all sorts of things 'stuck' onto the end of her nose. These are usually small bits of tissue, paper or fluff and it's only after this sight has given us a good laugh that we restore her dignity by removing them for her.

A few minutes ago the heat got to her and I heard a little sighhhhh as she plopped on the carpet near my chair. This is the sight that greeted me.........

Who's a good little hovering up girl, then ??!!!

Watch The Birdie

I've noticed a bit of "doom and gloom" creeping into my posts of late and I'm not 'aving it.

No, no, no.

I'm in sunny Florida in January and most days it's over 80F outside. Those facts alone should banish all thoughts of gloom.

But then I am in Buttonwood Bay so maybe a bit of doom is warranted !

Anyway, I went for my walk yesterday and after a little rest at the Cafe by the Lake where I may or may not have refuelled myself with a burger deluxe ( the deluxe meaning it came with lettuce, tomato and onion....oh wait, sorry.....with lettuce, tom-aye-to and onion ), I moved on to the edge of the lake and sat on a swing seat contemplating life and its great mysteries.

As usual I had my trusty compact camera with me and after a while, the local wildlife worked out I posed no threat and closed in to pose themselves !

I quite like this shot of the bird with the very photogenic pier in the background or the pier with the very photogenic bird in the foreground. Whatever. As it was almost a silhouette, I was tempted to 'make' it a black and white shot but decided there was just enough colour to leave it alone.

After sorting out world hunger and poverty and solving the Eurozone crisis by deciding Greece needed to be nuked asap, I got up and walked along the channel that leads off the lake and where all the boats are docked. This is also where most of "our" regular wildlife can be found as many of the residents simply fish from the back of their boats without either ever needing to expend energy by actually going out onto the lake.

All these birds have names but I have enough problems remembering human names without getting into bird ones !

Here is a close up of Fred. Not likely his real name. It's probably Mitt. Or Newt. Not Bubba though.

That'd be silly.

Fred was in the water at the edge of the channel, patiently waiting for a caught fish to be tossed his way. We engaged in a bit of basic line dancing for a while; I'd slowly approach him and he'd slowly wade away. I'd retreat and he'd return to his starting point.

That pretty much sums up line dancing for me although I fear I've made it far more exciting than it really is.

Before we were asked to get a room, I stopped the dance and settled where I was to take this close up.

The background is a bit distracting but as he was down the bank below the level of my feet, the water was the only background available !

The problem with carrying a camera on my park walks is that although I see loads of photo worthy views, I know I've taken them all before. Oh I might be a few inches away from where I was on a previous occasion but really, how many photos of the place do I need ?

Maybe I should go up the road to Disney World, Universal or Sea World and vary my photos a bit.

For now though, you'll have to settle for an unknown bird, a pier and......Fred.

A Death "In The Family"

In the past, I've jokingly called Florida God's Waiting Room and as such, Buttonwood Bay would be positioned very near the door. Given that there are about 1800 seniors in here, the sad fact is that hardly a week goes by without one of that number exiting that door.

The internal roads don't have a bike lane....they have an ambulance lane !

Lets put it this way: when you are told that so and so has gone North for good, it doesn't necessarily mean they've left the park and returned to Michigan or Canada !

Sometimes it does though and so sometimes that news can be ambiguous.

Great is the pull of grandkids and great grandkids upon the emotions of this community. Many residents do leave as they miss their families so much and that is very understandable despite the use of email, Skype and cell phones to keep in touch. None of those can make up for missing out on precious moments with little Mitt, Bubba or Newt !

I know of some friends here who are leaving as soon as their houses sell as they just miss their grandkids so much and more to the point, vice versa.

Of course human nature being what it is, we all expect them to be back down again once those same grandkids have driven them to distraction. The idea of seniors being with kids is often a lot different from them actually BEING with kids. After a few years of being here playing cards, baking cakes and taking gentle strolls alongside the lake, it's a bit of a shock to have screaming grandkids in your face day in, day out.

So anyway, those people ARE leaving the park to go North and are doing so under their own steam, so to speak.

But I currently know of a couple of residents who are really making the journey North for the last time. One will be in an urn and I'm not sure about the other one yet.

When someone you know suddenly drops dead, it tends to put many things into perspective. It's certainly a much bigger incentive to go on that diet or step up the exercise than having a big crystal ball drop in Times Square. I've never been one for making New Year Resolutions as it's always been someone or something that has caused me to 'do something different' in my life. Certainly not a calendar date.

And I have a few extra issues to worry about if it happened to me here. I'm a stranger in a strange land, remember. What to do with my body ? Who to inform and how ? Have I insurance cover to pay for everything on this side of the pond ? What are my wishes ?

Actually that last one is easy. I don't want to die. Ever. Ok ?

And despite having hospitals and medical centres up the ying yang here in Sebring, it seems that anyone with a condition other than a cough gets airlifted to Tampa at a cost of $10k. Far be it for me to suggest that this is down to the US medical system but I find it hard to understand that a town with a population of over 10,000 (which increases dramatically in winter when we "snowbirds" arrive), 28% of whom are 65 and over, hasn't got the medical facilities to deal with the after effects of something as common as a heart attack !!

But wait. We have a helicopter service that will whisk such patients to Tampa....for $10k thank you very much.

So what can we learn from all these barely related and mostly depressing facts ?

1) If you feel a heart attack coming on in Sebring, drive like crazy to Tampa.

2) Make sure someone knows what to do with your body if you don't make it.

3) Never use the expression "they've gone North for good" in this park.

4) Grandkids and Skype were made for each other.

5) Mitt, Bubba and Newt are just silly names.

Right, I'm off out for a Bigmac, large fries and coke. But with the Sebring chopper probably hovering over McDonald's, I'll order a diet coke and no pickle on the burger.

And hold the urn !

When Two Worlds Collide.

If you read my previous post, you'll know I've just started reading "The Hobbit."

But from the opening line, I've had a very peculiar in-head sensation which just won't go away.

I'm calling it Postgate-itis because the effect is as though I'm reading the book as if it was being spoken by Oliver Postgate ! Very bizarre but stick with me on this..........

Oliver Postgate was a British writer, animator and puppeteer (1925-2008) who created and narrated some of the best children's stories ever to grace UK tv screens when I was growing up.

Ivor The Engine, Bagpuss, Clangers and Pogles' Wood were all his creations and Bagpuss was voted the most popular children's television programme of all time.

He also created and narrated my particular favourite, Noggin The Nog, and this is what is coming into my head when I read The Hobbit.

Postgate's voice mesmerised me as a child. He was to narration what J.K. Rowling has been to wizards. He brought the stories to life for me and back in the day, his little cut out characters that jerked their way across beautifully drawn backgrounds laid the foundations for animations to come, including South Park.

I shouldn't mention South Park in the same breath as the creations of Oliver Postgate as by and large, his stories were as gentle as South Park's are aggressive.

Despite being set in a Viking type era complete with dragons, flying machines and talking birds, Noggin was a good natured King of the Northmen and the stories always had happy endings. As a child I remember the 'baddies' had large pointy noses and chins so that there was no doubt that they WERE baddies. Even today I never trust people with large pointy noses and chins.

Maybe this is why I have issues with Bruce Forsyth and to a lesser extent, Jay Leno !

Mind you, it helped when these 'baddies' had names like Nogbad the Bad.

Well I never said it was subtle and we children of the 50's needed all the help we could get.

There aren't many tv shows from the 50's that would enthral children these days but I think that Postgate's stories and the animated shows were so timeless that they would still be popular today. Sadly kids are now being fed a diet of fast action shows with such tight edits that a 2 second burst is deemed too long. In fact all tv is like that now. Watch any commercial or action show and if a scene lasts more than a couple of seconds, they assume the audience will switch over.

Previews of upcoming movies are the worst for this. They cram in all the nonsense about what critics are saying about the movie and how they are already calling it 'the best movie of the year.'

Not much of an accolade when we're in the 3rd week of January !

Meanwhile, we're being assaulted by one second bursts of the best action clips, so fast in fact that they are borderline subliminal. And finally we get to when the movie is due to be released but those words are lost to the human ear as they are spoken by the same guy who tells us in 5 seconds about the possible side effects of every medicinal product advertised on tv.

"Possible side effects include......blah......blah......blah......death.......blah......blah....blah."

So I think modern kids should be introduced to Noggin The Nog and the other creations of the brilliant Oliver Postgate. They'd be transported to magical lands full of colourful characters and best of all, given the time to let their own imaginations fill in any gaps.

A child's imagination is a wondrous place which can only be improved with characters like Noggin, Bagpuss, Ivor and even a few Clangers.

Trust me. The memories of them will last a lifetime.

So have a watch and more importantly, a listen to this video clip from a later episode when they were produced in glorious colour. Then think of hearing that voice as you read The Hobbit.

Bilbo Baggins.....meet Oliver Postgate.

The Story So Far.............

I'm a modern kinda guy. Love new tech stuff and all that. Can't afford most of it, but love it all the same.

When ebooks came along, I embraced the idea. I could download and read books on my laptop.

Awesome.

Of course despite being pretty portable, it's not easy to curl up in bed with a laptop and mine got particularly cumbersome when its battery pack died and it became a mains powered device only ! Beds and cables do not mix well.

Then I got a smartphone and the Kindle app and suddenly I was in heaven. Well ok in bed actually where I do most of my reading but now with a much smaller hot throbbing device with me.

(You people make me sick !)

Anyway, as I'm tight and wanted only free books, I was mostly restricted to the classics. This turned out to be a good thing as I discovered I'd not actually read most of the classics I thought I had read. Seems I'd watched the movies but not read the books ! For shame.

And so, over the years, I've worked my way through Treasure Island, A Tale of Two Cities, Dracula, Great Expectations and so on. Brill......and there are plenty left to get through.

Now reading a book on a smartphone is all well and good but the screen is a tad on the small side. If I could afford a tablet, that would be better but of course they are bigger than books so why bother ? Well you get a bucket load of books on one tablet so that would be reason enough.

But I haven't got a tablet so the point is a moot one.

I love that word.

Moot.

Mooty.

Mootiest.

Mootfull.

Moving on.

So last night I finished another classic on my smartphone and really didn't fancy starting another. I fancied a book. A proper paper book. I went looking on the shelves. Bookshelves.

I came upon a paperback version of The Hobbit and despite the cover being curled and the pages being more yellow than white, I took it to bed with me like a treasured friend.

Whoa. Dammit, that didn't come out right. Oh well.......

So after taking my pills (the only tablets I can afford) and lying on the bed so the ceiling fan could cool me down, I started reading this 1974 printing of The Hobbit.

Chapter 1

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

I was hooked immediately but I have to admit, the image of Bilbo Baggins going into his des res hill house at the start of Lord of the Rings popped into my head. A bit different from a simple hole in the ground which is what I'd have been imagining if I'd never seen the movie.

So already the movie of the NEXT book was forming images in my mind and on it went. As the book in my hand described the layout of this 'hole' with all its twists and turns and furnished rooms, I was so there. So there in the movie version of the 'hole' that is. A very Hollywood hobbit 'hole'. Lovely wood everywhere, fitted kitchen, luxury fixtures and fittings - so much so that if you'd stopped off at the concession area for popcorn and a drink and arrived in the theatre after Bilbo had entered his 'hole', you'd have thought he was in a modern apartment in Manhattan !

This brings up the whole can of worms that is.....movie first or book first ?

The only time this applied to me was with The Sum Of All Fears by Tom Clancy. I'd bought the book at an airport store for reading on a long flight and then saw the movie on tv some years later. That was enough to tell me never to do that again. Bits cut out, bits added, characters removed and new ones inserted.

No, for me its either/or.......but not both.

Hmmm if this blog post had a point, I seem to have forgotten it. Lost the plot, you might say.

Oh yes, paper books versus electronic books.

Well unlike with books versus movies based on those books, I'm coming down on the side of.......both.

Both have their place and obviously if you want to have reading material for a 6 month holiday you'll want an ebook device or risk a hernia and excess baggage charges with all those books.

But now and then there is nothing like reading the real thing. The smell alone is worth it. I'm not sure what Bilbo's 'hole' smells like (dammit again) but reading about it has come to life already in this well thumbed 1974 edition of the story. Slighty musty with a faint aroma of sweaty feet.

Well I did say I was lying on top of the bed so those were probably mine.

Now would that have happened with an iPad ? I think not.

My Dad - The Centenarian

My dad was born on January 16th, 1912 which makes today his 100th birthday.

Happy birthday dad.....wherever you may be !

I say that because he died in 1986, when he was 74 and I was 34.

Some of those ages and years surprised me when I thought about them today. See, I never thought of my dad as old. He never looked it. I realise that these days, 74 isn't THAT old but he had a youthful face. He was also very active. Not in a keep fit, sporty way as he had no time for such things.

Dad worked just about every waking hour. He had his regular job with a painting/decorating company and then did private jobs in the evenings to bring in the money needed to get two sons through boarding school. My mum did about 3 low paid jobs as well AND we took in the occasional lodger.

With all that going on, how come we weren't rolling in disposable income ??!! But we weren't.

Dad was a great painter and decorator but he barely charged more than he'd paid for the materials. This made him very popular but never made him much money. That was just how he was.

We barely got by with both my parents working their socks off from dawn till dusk. This upbringing, although we boys never really knew how many sacrifices were being made for us at the time, forged my attitude to money in that I've never bought what I couldn't pay for up front; I've never been in debt and I've always been a saver.

Dad was a kind, gentle man who never raised his voice and if we did something wrong, he showed his displeasure by telling us he had obviously failed as a parent. Man was that a powerful guilt giver. To this day I still remember how terrible I felt about misbehaving in church after getting one of those speeches from him. To think I'd let down this wonderful man was almost more than I could stand and led me to berate myself for my actions more than any punishment could do. When it came from my mother too, oh my God. Both barrels at once ? I felt so low I was under the belly of a worm that was under the belly of another worm.

I donno if dad had a happy life. It was certainly a hard life but we had lots of fun too. He loved my mum more than life itself and vice versa. How she lived on for another 16 years without him was anyone's guess. Within the family, most money was on weeks, not years.

That's not to say she ever forgot him, not for one second. She wanted to be with him but wasn't going to help the process along in any way. She was too much of a catholic for that. But as she approached 80 and her health had failed so much that she had to go into a home, she wasn't going to hang about any longer. Not wanting to be a burden on anyone, it was no surprise then, that within a few weeks of entering the home, she slipped away to be with dad.

Dad didn't want much out of life. He was a simple man who lived without luxuries and never sought them. He didn't leave a rich legacy of sage quotes but rather, left his life itself as a testimony to the man he was. He also left me with indelible memories of a man at peace with himself and with a firm belief in his faith. He loved his God, his wife and his family above all else.

And his God, his wife and his family were all the better for that love and that life.

I just wish I'd told him that more often.

Happy birthday dad.

From One Island National To Another...........

Despite it being 'owned' by France, I've suddenly become very fond of a small island in the Indian Ocean called Reunion. It's had several names over the centuries, as often happens with small islands in the Indian Ocean but for now, it's called Reunion.

Yesterday, someone from that small island (in the Indian Ocean) put in a Google search for a description of tangelos and up popped my blog post from this time last year. He (or she) got a very informative post about tangelos and I got my 142nd visitor from a different country.

The island is only 39 miles long x 28 miles wide but has a population of over 800,000. Its closest neighbours are Mauritius, 120 miles to the NE and the much larger Madagascar 450 miles to the west. Of course we all know that Madagascar is full of funny animated animals, many not exactly indigenous to the island including a lion, a giraffe, a hippo and a zebra. Sightings of several penguins have been reported but conservationists remain sceptical.

So anyway, thank you, Reunion Islander. How are things in the Indian Ocean ? Damp ?

On that topic, Reunion does hold a world record though. Two in fact.

Between 15th and 16th March 1952, the town of Cilaos 'received' 73.62in of rainfall, the greatest 24hr precipitation total ever recorded on earth. And the island also holds the record for the 72hr total in March 2007.

I guess what we must take from these facts is......never EVER visit Reunion in March !!

Oh and for all those interested, clearly I cheated death again last night. And I woke with my spleen intact. Win, win.

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream ?

Well I woke up this morning...........

(Sing the rest of the various songs that start with those words if you like but I'm just stating a fact.)

I woke up this morning.

Always a good thing to do if you want to get the day off to a good start and I try to do it as often as possible. NOT waking up prays on my mind a lot.

For as long as I can remember, which admittedly isn't long these days, I've had a fear of going to sleep and not waking up. Dying in my sleep in other words. I don't mess about with being in a coma or even worse, being alive but totally paralysed so no one knows I'm alive.

No, I just worry about dying. Always have. For as long as I can remember, remember !

This may be the reason for the 'night terrors' I experience from time to time. Thankfully rarely.

I'll wake up suddenly and jump out of bed to somehow prove I'm not really dead (yet) and then stand at the side of my bed feeling rather foolish and wondering what other people do at 3am.

I'm embarrassed enough when this happens in my own bedroom but when I'm elsewhere, the relief of discovering I'm not dead is compounded by the guilt of waking up the rest of the house with my shouting.

Oh I forgot that bit. I invariably shout out something as I exit the bed. Usually something vaguely related to not being ready to be dead....yet. I call it Thanatophobia Tourettis.

And before you try and Google that, I've just mixed Tourettes with the fear of death phobia.

So I lie in bed of a night, as we say in Yorkshire, and while most of me wants to fall asleep, part of me doesn't.....as it may lead to death.

Now most people, if given the choice, would be more than happy to "slip the surly bonds of earth" by dying in their sleep when their time is up. Ironically I'd be one of them.

So why the hell do I fear dying in my sleep ??!! Irrational ? Just a tad.

I partly blame tv. I've tearfully watched all those bedside deaths where friends and relatives come out of the woodwork to say what a great chap you are and how you'll be sorely missed. If I died in my sleep, I'd be robbed of those touching scenes !

It's no wonder I stay up so late every night.....well after midnight on most occasions. Logic tells me I could just as easily peg it in my chair whilst watching Two & A Half Men and if so, no autopsy would be needed. But I think statistics show that bed is the place to be if you wanna permanently avoid those 2.5 reruns.

"Died peacefully in his sleep" seems to be the popular way to go and I really need to embrace this concept and stop worrying about it. And my spleen.

My spleen ? Yes, indeedily.

I think a lot about my spleen too.

Again it's tv to blame. I've seen too many shows and movies when, after an accident, the victim recovers only to be told "we had to remove your spleen." It's a particularly popular result when a child is involved. "Jenny is fine, Mrs Papadopoulos, but we had to remove her spleen." This is usually followed by a flood of tears from the aforementioned Mrs Papadopoulos who is relieved that her precious Jenny is alive but slightly concerned that she may never again play the violin because of her missing spleen.

Greek tv can be so dramatic !

So what's a spleen then and why do we seem to cope pretty much ok without it ? And more relevant, why does it seem so easy to damage it in an accident ?

Everything from spilling coffee on yourself to surviving a plane crash seems to carry the risk of having your spleen removed. I think there is a Far East market for spleen soup or something. Maybe ground up spleen is an aphrodisiac. Certainly surgeons seem to whip them out without so much as a by your leave. Maybe it's useful as a teaching aid !

"You need to hone your surgical skills, Patterson. Here, take this patient in cubical 10. Ingrowing toenail. Off you go and whip out his spleen."

Never your appendix though. Oh no, that useless organ is damage proof. It'll survive any accident totally unharmed. You could lay it out on the kitchen table and whack it repeatedly with a meat tenderiser and that damn organ would carry on doing......well whatever it does.

" Jenny is fine, Mrs Papadopoulos, but we had to remove her appendix. "

" You did WHAT ? OMG my poor little girl. Why didn't you just let her die ? "

Of course the spleen performs a valuable role within the body. It's just that with all the current medical knowledge at our disposal, no one quite knows what that role is. Something about red blood cells and the immune system but clearly nothing vital. We can live without it and this is just as well, given its propensity for keeling over at the slightest mention of 'accidental damage.'

Ok and you wonder why I don't sleep easily every night ! Jeez it's a wonder I can sleep at all. Forget the problems with the Eurozone and who will win Celebrity Big Brother, I have much bigger worries on my mind every night.

Will I wake up in the morning and if I do, will I still have a viable spleen ?

Great. Now I have an image of someone discovering my cold, dead body in the morning with a dirty great gash in my left side.........and an Asian looking guy in scrubs high tailing it down the street with my spleen in a Ziplock bag.

I don't think Lunesta is going to cut it tonight.