The Great Backyard Bird Count and My Hubby’s New Hobby

Each February, for four specific days, people from around the globe take time to go outside and count birds – hence the name, The Great Backyard Bird Count. GBBC helps scientists better understand and protect birds around the world. I have to say, it’s pretty cool to be part of an online citizen project.

This type of thing is referred to as community science. For me, it’s just a lot of fun doing what I love to do on a higher level.

The GBBC is sponsored by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology and the National Audubon Society. This project began nationally in the USA in 1998 and went global in 2013. I participated several years ago, before it was so techy. The counting, of course, is the same. It’s the reporting that is different. And, the best part, the tools for counting are amazing.

If you have any interest at all in birds, you need to download The Cornell Lab Merlin app, but be warned that it will turn you into a birding nerd. It’s free and will look like this on your phone:

This magnificent app is the perfect tool for identifying birds. I’m not too shabby at it as far as our local birds go, but the sound ID is a game changer. It listens for the birds and creates a wave file. As soon as it hears a bird, it comes up on a list. My list grew and grew on Monday morning as I did my bird count. My backyard is a cacophony of beautiful bird music anyway, so I wondered how it would track so many at once.

No problem! It highlights the ones singing, sometimes more than one at a time. It’s so addictive that even Bob has put it on his phone. This morning he turned on the sound ID when he was taking the recycling to the curb and reported his findings of a red-bellied woodpecker, northern cardinal, and brown-headed cowbirds. It’s a beautiful combination of technology and nature!

Speaking of Bob. He’s been retired for a year now and has a new hobby that involves nature. Since we feed the birds, we also feed the squirrels, but not by choice. We have invested in a feeding station that won’t allow our huge squirrel population to climb the pole and empty the feeders. There is plenty for them on the ground and they feast and bury nuts constantly. Plus, right now during winter migration, we are going through 40 pounds of seed a week. Thank goodness for Costco’s reasonably priced seed!

The squirrels are plenty entertaining as they chase each other around and try to climb our birdfeeder pole. I can tell when there’s a new one in town as the regulars know this is futile. I do love watching them experience the frustration of trying to jump from the tree that is just out of reach. But, in my humble opinion, they are rats with a fluffy tale – though not as disgusting. They’re destructive and occasionally like to chew our screen or the corner of the house. They also love to eat the blossoms of my camellia bushes. They make me crazy when they do that!

Our friend, Al, told Bob he had been trapping squirrels and relocating them. Thus began Bob’s Great Squirrel Relocation Program (GSRP). So far, after 24 hours, he has captured two and released them by the neighborhood lake. That only leaves about 50 more, though I’m not into counting them like I do birds.

Meanwhile, regarding the GBBC, I came to the counting game on the last day and almost missed it. Thanks to my sis-in-law, Beta, who made sure I was informed, or I would have missed out. That was a close one!

At 8:30 on Monday morning, I sat outside on my pool deck and started my count. The GBBC folks ask that you commit to at least a 15-minute period. I had to tear myself away after an hour. You count what you see and what you hear, just like on The Big Year (a favorite birder movie starring Steve Martin, Jack Black, and Owen Wilson).

Here’s a list of my morning findings in case you are into that sort of thing:

Birds seen:

21 brown-headed cowbirds

4 red-winged blackbirds

5 northern cardinals

2 common grackles

3 tufted titmouse

1 mourning dove

1 palm warbler

1 mockingbird

Birds heard:

Carolina wren

Blue-gray gnatcatcher

European starling

American robin

Carolina chickadee

Cedar waxwing

One time counting was not enough for me, so I went back out at 5:30 pm for half an hour.

Birds seen:

4 tufted titmouse

1 red-shouldered hawk

4 northern cardinals

2 mourning doves

2 red-winged black birds

3 common grackles

2 American crows

1 mockingbird

48 brown-headed cowbirds – Yes, it’s tough to count so I gave a conservative estimate, but that lets you know why I’m going through so much seed. These guys are not the prettiest in the group, but they have a lovely song which fills the air.

Birds Heard:

Downy woodpecker

European starling

Cedar waxwing

Carolina wren

Red-bellied woodpecker

So there were 14 species in the morning and 14, slightly varied, in the pre-evening.

It’s definitely spring in Florida, and we still have lots of migrating birds here who are avoiding winter up north. It’s a wonder I can get anything done with all of these beautiful distractions!

England

The sad news of Her Majesty the Queen passing has given me the inspiration I needed to finally document our late spring trip to England. I hope you’re up to several posts with a British accent.

First, I must tell you how much I admire Queen Elizabeth II. Her love for her country and her people was constantly on display, as was her grace and sense of humor. Hers was a job which she did not choose but she executed her duties in a manner that will long be fondly remembered. I send my condolences to my friends across the pond.

Like Queen Elizabeth, I have four children and eight grandchildren; but this is where the similarities end. This American woman can’t imagine running a country while chasing kids around at sporting events, running carpool, and keeping up with laundry and meals. Well, maybe if I had “people” for those duties, but who am I kidding!

I had never been to Great Britain before, and I am so thankful that our trip was planned during Queen Elizabeth’s Platinum Jubilee – the festivities and her smiling face were everywhere. The energy was palpable.

Bob and I made this trip with our son, Jesse, his wife, Dacia, and their teenage boys Manning and Winston. The guys are all avid golfers, and this trip was designed around five golf courses. That gave us a great overview of the countryside as well as London, and plenty for Dacia and me to do while they played.

We landed at Heathrow on May 21 and headed to York. How I wish we had more than a half-day to spend there. Perhaps it was because it was our first stop that I so quickly fell in love with York and England. Or maybe it was simply because it’s amazing.

York’s Roman walls have stood for centuries. They are the most extensive Roman walls in England and provide a lovely walking path and picturesque views of York Minster, the largest gothic cathedral north of the Alps, which I thought was a strange starting point for measurement. The 235-foot-tall cathedral towers over the city.

York Minster

As I was on the ready to find souvenirs, turning onto The Shambles took my breath away. Not only is it quintessentially British, but it was also inspiration for the Harry Potter franchise. Part of Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone was filmed in York. I discovered afterward that York’s railway station was used in the first film. Just as well as we would not have had time to visit it. While I enjoy Harry Potter, I’m not a huge fan, but I have children and grandchildren who are, so I figure any references to Harry or Hogwarts can only up my cred.

I walked into “The Shop That Must Not Be Named,” only to feel like I was in a giftshop at Orlando’s Universal Studios. Mentioning to the young staff that I was from Orlando gave me the only sense of royalty I experienced on this trip. If you’re a Harry Potter fan, coming to Orlando is like a journey to the Promised Land. Except for the excessive heat and humidity, of course.

So ended Day 1. Then we were off to Lytham via a country road which led us to follow signs to The Winehouse. Nothing says, “Welcome to England” like watching your grandsons taste their first scone at a winery next to meadows of sheep and cows.

This was a great foundation for our British experience.

Ode to Black Friday

As I wandered the Altamonte Mall on the day before Thanksgiving, I wondered if Black Friday was coming off life support. There were definite signs that customers were being wooed back to the brick-and-mortar shops. I even spotted this team stocking the stores with goodies to sustain the merchants through the “big day.”

When my children were young, I looked forward to shopping on the day after Thanksgiving. I didn’t even mind getting up pre-dawn to do so. I have wonderful memories of picking up my mom and heading out for the Black Friday Shopping Expedition. We would use the newspaper to map out our path. (By the way, that is my favorite type of mapping.) You would need two hands to hold that massive issue with its dozens of Black Friday ads.

There were always bargains to be found. JC Penney would give away ornaments like this one from 1996. There would be scratch-offs for prizes and discounts. The jewelry shops often gave away goodie bags with little “gold” charms inside them. Target and Home Depot gave great incentives for stopping in early. Early meant around 5 am. That was doable.

Eventually my mom lost interest in the adventure and my daughter was only too interested in stepping into this grown-up outing. We always hit the mall, especially Penney’s, and Target and Bealls. I do admit to going to Walmart a time or two, but for me, it just wasn’t worth the crazy.

Confession: Over the past five years I have been losing interest in Black Friday. Probably because as I have gotten older, and I’d rather not exhaust myself in the pursuit of bargains. My daughter, however, has not reached that point. I dedicate this post to her. She is in mourning over Black Friday, which by all accounts from the last two years has gone from life-support to flatlining.

She loved going out at midnight on Thanksgiving and staying out for 12 hours was not uncommon for her. I drew the line on that one, but I have joined her for a few hours during a more civilized time on that Friday. Mainly, I’d do this out of guilt. You know the power your adult children can wield – especially if they throw in the word tradition. It was a tradition, but like so many traditions, it changes through the years and generations.

Even though I was fairly certain of my Black Friday plans, I picked up the local Orlando Sentinel. It was so skinny! I also had sticker shock as it cost $5.35!

Bob and I have one all-important stop on Black Friday, and we don’t have to be there until 9 am. If you read me at all regularly, you can probably guess it’s Costco. Who can resist $8 off a pork loin or $10 off a Butterball turkey? Not me. And as of this year, not my daughter either. She sadly admitted to me over the phone that Costco had the best Black Friday deals. I couldn’t see her face, but I think there was a little catch in her voice. At least her family of six will be eating pork and turkey for the next few months.

We will tell our grandchildren of those days of old. The days when Black Friday meant something. The days of people being trampled in hot pursuit of a bargain. The days of people camping out in front of Best Buy to snag that new mega-TV or gaming system. The days before Black Friday became a joke that lasted all the way through November. Sigh. Those were the days. How did we get here? I’m putting a lot of the blame on COVID. I’m reminiscing about the song, “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” by Peter Seeger.

Here’s my rendition.

Ode to Black Friday

(Where Have all the Sales Gone)

Where have all the sale ads gone

Long time passing

Where have all the sale ads gone

Long time ago

Where have all the sale ads gone

COVID took them one by one

When will they please return?

Oh when will they, return?

Where have all the papers gone

Long time passing

Where have all the papers gone

Long time ago

Where have all the papers gone?

Gone to online every one.

Oh when will they return?

When will they ever return?

Where have all the shoppers gone

Long time passing

Where have all the shoppers gone

Long time ago

Where have all the shoppers gone

Buying on Amazon every one

They never leave their home

They never leave their home.

A classic for you – Joan Baez singing “Where Have All the Flowers Gone”

Bonus weird Thanksgiving product

Generation Consternation

The labeling of generations has taken an ugly turn. I’ll admit to shaking my head at this one. It’s just plain wrong. What could be sadder or more confusing than the term: geriatric millennial.

For the record, I am comfortable with these two generational names:

The Greatest Generation

Baby Boomers

I think dubbing the post-WWII/Great Depression era folks The Greatest Generation is well-deserved. These people fought for our freedoms against unimaginable evils and made it through the darkest economic time imaginable. It’s a generation of heroes. And that generation of heroes celebrated a lot, which led to the baby boom.

I am a baby boomer. I don’t mind it if someone says, “Ok, boomer.” Yes, I know it’s mocking, but no, I don’t care. That’s one of the great things about getting older!

Generations X, Y, and Z confuse me. Especially Gen Y, who are also called Millennials. Why does Gen Y have two names? What name will be given for the generation after Gen Z?

I’m sure my questions have answers, but I don’t care to discover them. My focus today is on the newly named sub-group of Millennials – “Geriatric Millennials.” I learned about this on the local morning news. The anchors were flummoxed at why this name would be used. After much semi-thorough research, I have learned the following: This group is a microgeneration born in the early 80s. They have experienced both analog and digital forms of communication. (On another note, they seem to like microbreweries, but that may be a cross-generational thing. I digress.)

Should this anomaly warrant such an insulting moniker? My study group of people this age don’t like being called Millennials. Assuming they know what the word means, they must be rolling their eyes! Geriatric refers to old people, especially regarding healthcare or living arrangements. There is an entire specialty of medicine with this name. It is for older adults – adults who don’t particularly like the word elderly, pretty much hate being labeled geriatric, and still don’t know what a Millennial is.

Geriatrics starts around 65 for some, but for most the age is closer to 80. Do geriatric millennials know this? Do they care? Who are the ad wizards who came up with this one?

Maybe they are the same people who are taking fashion to a new low at Target?

Thank goodness it’s only available for a limited time!

Note: Research study groups referred to in this post are largely exaggerated and manipulated to fit my personal views. Except for the Target fashions. Nobody should contest that finding.

Firsts and Lasts (and a movie review to boot)

This week Bob and I ventured back to the local AMC theater. This was our first movie in over a year, (thank you, COVID.) Frankly, I have not missed going to the movies, but Bob really has. That is why I conceded to go to a movie called Chaos Walking starring Tom Holland and Daisy Ridley. It also featured David Oyelowo, whom I loved in A United Kingdom. (You should watch that one.)

This was the best choice available for us; but as we watched it, I felt like we chose the runt of the litter. Yes, it was a movie and was pretty clean, but it was Sci-Fi, which would be okay in a lot of movies, but I lost track of the sci-fi-edness of it fairly early on.

What was it that I hated about this movie? As I’ve thought about it, my dislike of this film has grown since we saw it on Monday night. That night I thought it was just “meh.” I gave it a C-. By Tuesday I dropped that to a D+, and now I’m having to wonder why I was so generous in the first place.

To quote IMDb, this movie is “A dystopian world where there are no women and all living creatures can hear each other’s thoughts in a stream of images, words, and sounds called Noise.”

I should have read that before going, but I focused on Daisy, whom I liked in Star Wars, and Tom was a good Spiderman, so I was open to giving it a try. One positive note, I will never again struggle with what dystopian means.

I asked Bob later – what made us want to see a movie about an imagined world full of fear where you can hear the noise in each other’s heads? Don’t we get enough of that on the news and social media?

He did agree, but I know deep down in my heart that it was worth it to him to sit and eat popcorn with me in a darkened theater while safely distant from the other four people who plopped down eleven bucks for the same experience.

SPOILER ALERT: By the second act of the movie, surprise, women were found not too far away. They were running the show in their community because you couldn’t hear what the women were thinking. Selective communication was a big plus. The men’s thoughts were shouted from them in an annoying din. They separated the living areas by gender because the ladies couldn’t stand the noise. I get that – I felt the same way from my seat in the theater.

This was the only thing suitable to talk about after the movie. The “noise” had gotten on my last nerve. Sometimes I can barely stand the noise in my own head much less watch and hear the noise of every male in this movie. I surmised that maybe the women’s thoughts weren’t heard because as a gender we can have more of an emotional base. I don’t know; and whatever the reason if they even had one, they never told us. They didn’t even hint at it. Worse still, we didn’t care.

You’ve been warned.

That was my first for the week. I likely won’t return to the theater until the next James Bond movie debuts.

I also had a last this week, which ties to my age, and that age also means I get to sign up for Medicare this year. I thought it was a reason to celebrate, and I suggested that to my gyn after completing my yearly exam, but she had a full afternoon ahead of her. Aren’t we supposed to celebrate the little things? Yes, we are! Can you guess what was my cause for celebration and why I thought this was the fitting way to celebrate? (Hint, I don’t think it’s lady-like to mention this in mixed company or on a format that would make my sons roll their eyes and say, “really, Mom!”) Cheers!

Products - Pabst Blue Ribbon : Pabst Blue Ribbon

The Importance of Knowing What’s Important

There’s been a lot of important stuff going on this past week. So many special days to celebrate! National Daughter Day. National Son Day. Drink a Beer Day. Coffee Day. Whew, it’s been busy.

I’m not sure who started this national craze, but now that the train has left the station, there is no telling how many national days lie ahead.

I do know that the first Thursday of May celebrates a National Day of Prayer. The way 2020 is going, I think we should extend that into a National Year of Prayer.

I’ve done my research so you can be prepared to celebrate the daylights out of October. Get ready. Today is National Black Dog Day, National Hair Day, Fire Pup Day, and National Homemade Cookies Day (at last something I can sink my teeth into).

The list for the month is extensive and you can find it if you click here.

Some of my favorites are:

  • National Produce Misting Day, Oct 2 (Is once a year enough?)
  • World Smile Day, Oct 4 (challenging due to COVID)
  • National Get Funky Day, Oct 5 (necessary due to COVID – Spread a little sunshine.)
  • National Greasy Food Day, Oct 25 (Do we need a day for this?)
  • National Hermit Day, Oct 29 (simple due to COVID)
  • National Candy Corn Day, Oct 30 (I don’t get this one. Why waste my sugar calories on candy corn when M&Ms are available?)

This is lots of fun, but the trouble with all these national days is, in my humble opinion, if everything is important then perhaps nothing is. Do I need a day to celebrate my sons and daughters? We used to call that their birthdays. Am I less of a mom because I didn’t pen a fitting tribute to these wonderful people? I’m going with a big NO. I will tell you, though, just for the record, God has blessed me with the most wonderful children and now children-in-law and grandchildren. I think they know that’s how I feel even if I don’t participate in National Days of tribute to them. (To quote Seinfeld, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!”)

What’s most important to me is remembering how important the truly important is. That would include The Four F’s:

  1. Faith in God
  2. Family
  3. Friends
  4. Fellow man

Whatever we can do to celebrate these is okay with me.

And while we’re adding in National Days, perhaps we could make this day the “National Day to Share Bonnie’s Blog Day.” While that’s not truly important, I could celebrate that!

My parents in front of the church where they were married,

which is the church we attended when I was a baby.

Photo taken 2007

We are Puzzled

Usually summer is a time to kick back, relax by the pool, go to the beach, visit with family and friends, take a vacation, and so much more. For our family it also means game playing and jigsaw puzzles. But this is not the usual summer. While still able to do many of the above-mentioned things, we have done an exorbitant amount of puzzles. In all fairness, though, that began back in March. We took a little break during June as our eyes were glazing over after doing a couple of 1000 piecers with writing on them so small we had to use magnifiers, but the puzzling continued after that short respite.

As I’ve mentioned before, puzzles are in short supply around the country. We have borrowed and lent out puzzles. We have done every puzzle in our closet with the exception of the holiday/winter ones. I have even gotten in a virtual line at http://www.libertypuzzles.com to purchase a single puzzle. They simply cannot keep up. It took two weeks before my name made it to the top of the list and then I had 24 hours to place my order – one per customer. It is due to arrive this week. I’m so excited. Yes, it’s come to that. I’m excited about getting a new puzzle.

Also, my favorite local used bookstore, BrightLight Books, has taken some of my puzzles on trade (or they’ll pay you a reduced price – http://www.brightlightbooks.com). I love that store and they were happy to have the puzzles which caused eyestrain to Bob and me.

Picking out the perfect puzzle to reflect the mood of the day can be challenging. When I saw this Blockbuster puzzle, it took me back to 1975, the year I was married; and people were impacted in such a great way by a single movie that the beaches were a lot less crowded that year.

Of course we had to go birding. This 1000-piece puzzle about did us in. I’m sure someone has bought it by now and is cursing the day they did – unless, of course, they are under 40.

 

Yellowstone National Park and Grand Canyon National Park were on our puzzle travel list.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We did a quick pass of all the major national parks as well.

 

 

 

Bob wanted to go to the place where golf was invented. No problem.

I insisted on more bird watching.

We really loved our trip to Utah which we took two years ago. It was nice to revisit.

But I don’t know what I was thinking when we did the map of Bryce Canyon. Maps, maps, maps. Sigh… Bob wouldn’t let me quit though, even though the printing on the puzzle was miniscule.

This was as tall as we let our tower of puzzles get. Oh, this is not all that we did, but it is still a fun memory.

 

Enjoy your summer as best you can. We have a lot to be thankful for, and if you’re in my area, you can always stop by and borrow a puzzle.

An Unexpected Shortage

I am so thankful to God for birds. We have a wonderful area in our backyard that we have fixed up just for them. Feeders, birdbath, trees and shrubs to hide in – it’s lovely and has been a source of peace for me in the midst of COVID-19. I think the birds like it, too.

Once in a while a big one stops by. This is a Sandhill Crane.

Do you have a place in your life that helps you to find calm during the crazy right now? For me it’s my backyard. I like to sit outside in the morning with a cup of coffee and the Bible and enjoy my little slice of heaven. Hearing the birds sing in the trees and watching them fly in and out for their breakfast is peace to my soul. I confess that once during the shut-down phase, I went to Costco solely because we were out of birdseed. It is essential for me.

Two weeks ago, we had a hailstorm. We had our roof examined and it has no damage, but one of my birdfeeders wasn’t so lucky. Its roof must have taken a direct hit and had a nice size crack in it. (The insurance company said it was not covered under our insurance.)

Different birds like different feeders, but this one, a hopper feeder, is the favorite of most. I keep two on hand because these guys may look like birds, but they eat like pigs. When I go out-of-town, I hang the extra feeder because I don’t want the birdies to think I deserted them and look for food elsewhere.

These hopper feeders are cheap – I can pick one up for $10-$12 at any hardware store. At least I thought I could, but that was before stupid COVID-19. I checked our local Lowe’s and Home Depot and the feeders had flown off the shelves. I looked at four different stores before I gave up and went on-line. Even on-line they were in short supply, though I did manage to find one not too far from me, so I ordered it and picked it up this morning.

I donned my mask and entered Lowe’s where I stood in line, six feet behind two women who each had a dog with them. One dog was in a carriage. The other was on a leash, like some kind of animal. These women didn’t know each other, but the one was quick to come to the aid of the other when her dog pooped on the floor right in front of us. The cashier behind the plexiglass was unable to help because they don’t have any wipes in the store, but the woman with her dog in the carriage was prepared for whatever would come her way. She even explained away the accident to the embarrassed owner by saying that the dog must have been nervous.

By this time, I was getting a little nervous. Bad smells have been known to trigger my gag reflex and you don’t want that when you’re wearing a mask; but I controlled myself. It was a good thing too because I already knew there were no wipes in the store.

On the way home I surveyed the incident and came to the conclusion that animals were being treated like people and people like animals. We people were herded through the line, obediently standing six feet apart, and those dogs weren’t even wearing masks! A little poop on the floor – no big deal! I had to wear a mask to gain entry to the store and I never poop on anyone’s floor. Sigh.

This isn’t a post about the Great Mask Debate of 2020 or about people bringing their pets everywhere with them as if they were people. Well, maybe it is a little. It’s more about the irony of the day. Unlike birdfeeders, puzzles, coins, rice, pasta, meat, Lysol wipes, and toilet paper, irony is not in short supply. I sure hope we don’t experience a sense of humor shortage. We would surely be doomed if that were to happen.

I take refuge in the fact that nothing escapes the view of my Heavenly Father. He loves the birds of the air and he loves his children.

 

Matthew 10:29-31 – Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

 

These are red-winged blackbirds, not sparrows, but the point stands.

 

 

Looking for a Sign Every Day

I have enjoyed seeing neighbors reaching out to each other during COVID-19. It has been one of the benefits. I also appreciate parents trying to teach their children to bless others and to look on the bright side, too.

Bob and I met the mom and two young children who live in this house on one of our evening bike rides. They were outside playing with some wood ducklings that had apparently fallen out of a tree. I didn’t know they nested in trees! See how educational bike rides can be!

I didn’t need to pet the ducklings. It was enough for me to watch the children and their mom enjoying this bit of nature that had literally dropped out of the sky for them.

Several days later, we passed by and found this sign. I tried to get a picture of the kids and talk to them about how they bring a smile to my face every time I pass, but I was unsuccessful. I wanted to tell them that I look for the sign daily and when I don’t go out, my husband comes home and tells me the joke of the day. I wanted to say thank you.

I hope you are noticing the positive signs around you, too. I know, sometimes it’s hard to see them. Maybe you could become one yourself. God Bless you all!

Everything is Weird

Zoom! That’s what Bob and I did last week – only we weren’t on a video meeting, we were on an airplane. This is the only time since 9/11 that this has felt weird. And the only time ever that I can remember when masks were expected, I should say required, to be able to board the plane.

We were among 30 souls on a flight to Milwaukee. This golf trip had been on our calendar for months, and we were thankful that it was not canceled. Bob had been looking forward to playing with our son and his sons on the famed Whistling Straits golf course. He was not disappointed. It was beautiful most days and unseasonably warm, which means perfect for us Floridians.

But it was a weird trip. From the moment we pulled up to the curb at Orlando International and found no cars lined up dropping off passengers, it just kept getting stranger. No lines to check in. No one in front of us at TSA. No problems!

Orlando International Airport – May 25, 2020

Once on board, I settled into my window seat, bucked my seatbelt, and slid my mask down. I don’t know how people do it when they must work all day in one of those things! Bob was shocked to see my mask dangling from my neck. I am usually the rule-follower, but there was nobody except him within 20 feet of me – another advantage of the window seat.

The “service” on the plane was different. Canned water and real plastic straws were available, as were little packets of pretzel mix. These were easy for the flight attendants to toss to us from a safe distance. The cans of water – not so much!

My one disappointment – the typically funny Southwest crew had lost their sense of humor. I think it was the masks. Who can blame them!

Once we arrived in Kohler, Wisconsin, it was time to have our temperature taken and take a little quiz as to our prior activities and places we have been. You would have been proud of me, as I answered honestly and kept my inner smart alec under control. I was pretty sure telling them I lived in NYC would have been a bad idea. For once, being from Orlando seemed to be a perk.

The isolation in Wisconsin was much more pronounced than it has been here at home. They had just opened the state, and when I say opened, I mean that if you searched, you could find things that were open. Those things did not include spas, which my daughter-in-law and I had looked forward to visiting while the guys played golf. But we settled for having our temperature taken a lot – that’s almost as good.

Blackwater Run Meadows Golf Course

There was always shopping, which is cheaper than a spa, but again it was weird. We read the sign on the door to a boutique and knew we had to wear a mask and sanitize our hands. We opened the door and stood at the sanitization station spreading hand sanitizer over our hands in the full view of the only person in the store. She looked panicked to see our unmasked faces and rushed halfway across the store to tell us that we had to wear a mask. I assured her that I had not been fast enough to don a mask while sanitizing my hands and that we would comply, but the whole thing made me sad. She was afraid. I’m not sure if she was afraid of contracting COVID-19, or if she was afraid that she would get in trouble for having an unmasked person in the boutique, or maybe I have a foreboding air about me that I don’t realize. There was such a palpable fear and anxiety in her. I am ready for the fear to be gone.

After we started browsing around, she relaxed a bit, but she kept apologizing for the fact that the town was mostly closed. When I tried to tell her that it was okay, she said, “I hope you’ll come back another time when everything is open.”

I replied, “Oh, we’re never coming back,” but she didn’t give me a chance to finish my statement. She started apologizing again. Finally, I was able to persuade her that it had nothing to do with her or the town or anything other than we came for the guys to golf. They golfed. On to the next golf course. In short – she was a wreck. Poor lady! Seriously, I felt for her.

I think I would have enjoyed Kohler more under normal circumstances, but my husband got to play golf with our son and grandsons; and they had a great time. Successful trip!

Whistling Straits

Our flight home was uneventful except for Bob getting yelled at by a flight attendant. His favored aisle seat has disadvantages. When we were in the airport at Milwaukee, there was one restaurant open. I innocently bought a snack and a beer for the plane ride – I’m old enough! What I did not know was that there was no alcohol allowed on the plane. Since Bob gave him my trash, he assumed that Bob was the perpetrator. I just remained in my window seat pretending I was asleep and chuckling softly.

There was something weird about the Milwaukee airport. After going through security, there is an area to put yourself back together again – shoes, keys, cell phone, laptop. It can take time, so you need an area for that to happen.

This is where you go to get recombobulated after you have been discombobulated.

I love words and this one is a doozie. I had never heard it before but immediately knew what it meant. Barry Bateman, former airport director, never heard it before either, so he invented it. I love it! I think we should have Recombobulation Areas all through the country and not limit them to airports. So many of us are feeling angry and depressed, or baffled, befuddled, bewildered, buffaloed, confounded, confused, flummoxed, perplexed, puzzled, vexed, or even discombobulated. We can all agree that things just aren’t right in the world today. We all need some recombobulation. I’m hoping that now that we are allowed out of our houses, we can get to work on that.

 

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.

Romans 12:18