Showing posts with label Florida. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Florida. Show all posts

Saturday, April 27, 2019

The Rock Psychosis

My family has a rock psychosis. Maybe I should call it a fetish to be more polite, but I've always called a spade a spade and in this case, a rock a rock.  I don't know exactly why, when or where it started, but my first recollection that something was amiss in the genepool was when I found out about my grandfather Ingalls' rock collection.  When my daughter was a young girl, my mother and step-father would take her to Maine whenever they went.  When she was about 8, she came back to Florida with tales of her great grandfather's rock collection.

He had asked her if she wanted to see his rock collection when they visited him.  What she was expecting to see was small samples of various types of rocks, so when he opened the dresser drawers in his bedroom that housed his rock collection she was surprised by what she saw.  All the drawers in the room were crammed full of rocks of all shapes and sizes that he had found on the ground wherever he went. None of them were colorful or in any way special except to him. She concluded her story by telling me that he must be crazy.  Although I did tell her it wasn't very nice to say that about anyone, in reality, she had hit the nail directly on the head. I was silently proud of my daughter for being so astute at such a young age.

As the fever grew and spread, my mother and my oldest brother developed the psychosis.  In the beginning, my mother would bring rocks home from Maine to use as doorstops or various other things.  I guess that was acceptable, but when I went to Maine one year and used the car she kept there to use during her extended stays, I found rocks in the trunk and under the front seat. All I could do was shake my head when I made the discovery.  As my mother started her collection my oldest brother started building stone walls on his property at the same time. Everyone was quite impressed by all he had done. His stone walls were beautiful! Everyone knows it takes a certain eye to be able to look at a rock elsewhere and know it's just the right shape and size to go in a certain spot in the wall you've been building.  I think the fever really took hold of him when he skillfully lined the ditches in front of his property with rocks.  It looked wonderful, but unfortunately, he was forced to remove all his ditch work due to some county ordinance. Unfortunately, Big Brother was apparently watching my big brother!  I prefer to think it was probably some jealous neighbor who had rock envy who ratted him out and not some county official riding around looking for ordinance violations.
   
Old Lady With Sagging Breasts
BLOTUS
I was selective in which rocks I hauled back to Florida.  They all had to come from a loved one's yard so each one would have good mojo in them.  It was like bringing a part of that person back with me.  My rocks found a new home in my flower garden. Florida is rather barren where rocks are concerned, so I have to get my "rock fix" while traveling.  After strategically stacking my rocks and closely scrutinizing the structure I had built, I dubbed it "Old Lady With Sagging Breasts".

When my daughter and her husband went to Europe last year, I forbid her to buy any gifts for me while she was traveling. I told her to pick up some rocks from the ground for me from the places they went. When she came back, she presented me with a jar full of rocks that had been bagged and tagged. I laughed and told her that the Pope had probably peed on the one from the Vatican. She assured me that she had washed all the rocks before putting them into baggies. When she had visited Berlin many years ago, I asked her to bring me back a piece of the Berlin Wall. Of course, she did as I asked and I think that may be my favorite rock/piece of concrete or whatever material the Berlin Wall was made from.

As my "large" rock collection grew, I decided to disassemble "Old Lady With Sagging Breasts" and replace it with a larger statue. I had no particular idea in my head when I sat on the ground and built a new statue. My daughter says it looks like a gorilla. Initially, before I attached a penis to it, I said it reminded me of Angelina Jolie (it must have been the lips) [lol]. My youngest son said it reminds him of an alien. What do you think? He ultimately was given the name BLOTUS.

Thursday, October 11, 2018

Mother Nature Can Be A Real Bitch

I always joke around and say I live on the Redneck Riviera, but for anyone who has never visited this part of Florida let me give you a better picture of what it's like. First, we boast having the world's whitest beaches. PERIOD! From Pensacola to Apalachicola life consists of a variety of paces from slow to slower within each quaint community. Most of the beaches aren't wall to wall people unless that's what you're into and then there's spots that cater to that sort of thing. Just ask anyone where spring breakers go and they'll point you to some crowds or ask where the hot spots are for vacationing. On the other hand, there's some beaches along the Redneck Riviera you can walk for miles and never see another person. That's serenity at its finest...sun, surf and the sweet smell of the Gulf of Mexico.

The further East you go, the small communities that are tucked in between the larger ones are nothing more than spectacular. One such community owns a large part of my heart. When I was 30, I moved to Port St Joe, Florida and then moved to St. Joe Beach soon after and worked at the Driftwood Inn on Mexico Beach. It was the only motel I had ever seen that didn't have phones in the rooms. At first, I didn't get it, but then slowly as I saw the stressed out businessmen and their families come to Mexico Beach and leave ready to go back to work, I finally got it. Not long after I started working at the Driftwood, I worked my way into the position of general manager. It was then, I really saw how much people really appreciated the solitude of Mexico Beach. It always surprised me at how generous so many of the people were upon checking out. Those people would always thank me and give me a tip for making their stay at the Driftwood exactly what they needed.

Long after I moved back to Pensacola, the Driftwood and Mexico Beach continued to grow, yet it never lost its quaintness. No high rises, no fast food restaurants, no large grocery store chains and no Walmarts...in fact, to get all of that you had to drive about 20 miles into Panama City to the west or about 15 miles into Port Saint Joe to the East (as far as I know St. Joe still doesn't have a Walmart). At the time I lived there, the only convenience store was on St Joe Beach.  I'm fairly certain over the years it hasn't change too much. The community is largely an "artsy" place to live and features annual art, wine and photography festivals. A large part of what has shaped Mexico Beach are the Wood family, owners of the Driftwood Inn who are very accomplished artists in their own right.

It makes me sick every time I think of the destruction Hurricane Michael unleashed upon an area of the world with such pristine beaches. My heart goes out to anyone who lost their home and/or business. I hope each person has the courage to rebuild and come together as a community to restore the Pre-Hurricane Michael tranquility and well-being they had just a few days ago.

I'd like to share pictures of Florida's Northern Gulf Coast that I know and love starting with Pensacola Beach and ending with Apalachicola.










Pensacola Beach, Florida















Fort Walton Beach/Destin, Florida










Panama City Beach, Florida







Mexico Beach, Florida
















Port St, Joe/Cape San Blas/Indian Pass, Florida





















Apalachicola and St. George Island









Mexico Beach, Florida after Hurricane Michael