Beware of the Couch – It Will Mess With You

I like to be open with you, but I have struggled with sharing the following story because it doesn’t put my husband in all too great a light.  He asked me if I was going to blog about this incident, but I told him I just couldn’t.  His humble answer, “If this will help just one person, it will be worth it.  Tell the story.”  So, with my dear husband’s permission, here goes.

It was with a mixed bag of emotions that I recently found myself waiting nervously for the delivery of our new couch.  Every time I shop for furniture I am filled with a sense of doubt over if I have chosen the right thing, and this never shows up as clearly as when a new couch is on the horizon.  Let me take you back to the history of the couch in our family.

Bob and I married in 1975 and like most people who had lived at home until they were married and also married young, we were on the poor side.  Our tiny unfurnished apartment loomed large with empty space.  Thanks to our parents, though, we did furnish it.  It was, shall we say, eclectic.  The focal points were his mom’s old sewing table, which we used for dining, and the couch from my parent’s basement.  This couch had served our family well – so well that the back legs had long given out and were replaced by Reader’s Digest Condensed Books, which Mom and Dad lovingly included with the couch.

I can only imagine how happy my parents were to unload, I mean give this to us; and we were truly happy to receive it.  After two years we had saved enough money for a replacement.  We chose one that had legs on all four corners – we were big time.  Along with the couch, we purchased a matching love seat.

At that point in our life I worked for the Social Security Administration and Bob was going to school full-time.  I had contracted baby fever, a condition that carried the possibility of slowing down Bob’s exit from school with a diploma in hand, so we devised a plan to put a Band-Aid on my condition.  We got a puppy.

Blondie was adorable – a little ball of golden fur.  We loved having her and hated leaving her each day as we went to work and school.  When we left the house we blocked her in the kitchen with a few chew toys and her bed and went about our day.  Typically, Bob returned home before I did and I would call him from work when I was getting ready to leave (this was before the days of cell phones, of course).  That particular day Bob seemed as normal as ever with not even a hint of trouble in his voice.

If you look closely you can see the corner is chewed up.  Blondie is asking if I forgive her yet.

If you look closely you can see the corner is chewed up. Blondie is asking if I forgive her yet.

When I walked into our apartment, Bob was bent over the sewing machine with a worried look in his eye.  Cute little Blondie had escaped from the kitchen and chewed every cushion, as well as the frame, of our new couch.  I think Bob thought I was going to kill her.  He may have been right.  He was finishing up mending the last cushion as I came in the door.  I wish I could tell you it looked as good as new, but it didn’t.  The best I can say is – it wasn’t awful.

It took me a while to get over this.  I reminded myself that it was just furniture, things, stuff.  Stuff that we had saved for two years to buy.  Stuff that still had the aroma of new furniture.  Stuff that I wanted to bludgeon my dog with.   You know, stuff.

Six years later we were moving into a new house and decided it was time to replace the couch.  No more bite marks!  Hooray.  We bought a great couch and matching recliner with durable fabric that would function well with our growing family (two kids, a cat and, amazingly, the same dog).  The dog hadn’t chewed anything for years so I was no longer worried about her.

In a matter of a few years we had grown by two more kids and another couple of cats.  The cats made their mark on our furniture this time.  They looked at our recliner as a scratching post so I traded chew marks for shredded fabric along the back of our chair.  By this time, it didn’t bother me as much.  I was getting used to things being torn, stained and even puked on.  I was becoming an expert at stain removal, which was going to serve my husband well in the future and keep me from strangling him.

Tune in tomorrow when I will resume the story that I didn’t want to tell you about my husband.

Valentine’s Day – It’s Not for the Faint of Heart

Did I tell you about Bob and me getting cussed out by popular British singer/songwriter Adele?  It was the culmination of a typical Valentine’s Day.  First we went out to dinner where we were forced to eat inside a loud, crowded restaurant due to our plans for alfresco dining being washed out by heavy rain.  After eating we headed to the parking lot only to witness somebody back into our car and drive off totally oblivious.  (There was no damage, so we just chalked it up to Reason #14 of Why We Don’t Like Going Out on Valentine’s Day.)

Earlier we considered going to see the movie Identity Thief, but on discovering that it has about 50 f-words in it, we decided against it.  So, Bob surprised me with Adele Live at The Royal Albert Hall, thinking we could enjoy a DVD concert at home.  Now, there is a bit of a language barrier between citizens of the U.S. and those of Great Britain, so it took me a few minutes to realize that Adele cusses like a sailor.  We likely would have been less verbally assaulted by going to see Identity Thief.  (This is an example of Reason #48 of Why Valentine’s Day Never Turns Out Like You Plan.)

So, here is a summary of our Valentine’s Day:

  • We ate dinner in a crowded restaurant at a folding table.
  • We couldn’t hear each other talk.
  • Somebody backed into our car.
  • We were cussed out by Adele.

Not the worst Valentine’s Day we ever had!  Next year I think we’ll stay home, order pizza and watch a movie.  Maybe by then Identity Thief will be on TBS.

The Cardinals

I’ve been watching them for weeks, so it probably won’t shock you to find out that on this rainy day I have been keeping up with the cardinals.  I have always been fascinated by them and love their red caps and capes.  There are four in particular that have caught my attention.  I’ve watched them parade around, eat and drink, and even visit my bird bath.  I think they’re a family – mom, dad and twin boys.

On a side note, I hear they are gathering in Rome to select a new pope today.

Gathering the Cardinals

Gathering the Cardinals

Some are on the fence

Some are on the fence

Chatting over Lunch

Chatting over Lunch

I hope you enjoy these pictures from my backyard as we await the selection of a new pope.

The Importance of Good Grammar and Coffee

Happy National Grammar Day!  I love that this day falls on the fourth day of March.  I always told my kids that this is the most active day of the year – march forth (I’ve taken liberty with my forth/fourth spellings).

In honor of this, my post today will contain some (oh the horror) grammatical errors.  It’s up to you to find them, fair reader, as you read this true story of my pursuit of a cup of coffee.  Please report your findings in the comment section of my blog.  Let’s see how good you are.  I believe there are four to seven errors.  Three are totally unacceptable and the others are lesser offenses or perhaps matters of preference.  I also realize that it is entirely possible that there might be other errors that I have not discovered.  If you point out any of these, I will most likely give the impression that I made them on purpose.  I’m the writer, so that’s my privilege.

I love having monkeys and butterflies on my coffee package.

I love having monkeys and butterflies on my coffee package.

Today as I write this post, I am sitting here drinking a cup of organic, shade-grown coffee from Costa Rica, which a friend of mine brought back for me from her recent trip.  It is perhaps the most challenging cup of coffee that I have ever had the privilege to take a drink of.

It all started back around the first of the year.  I had just cracked open a three pound bag of coffee from Costco days before Cindi gave me my present.  Being the slightly anal person that I am, I decided to wait until that bag was exhausted before opening the new one.

That day finally arrived on Saturday.  I was more than excited as I prepared to make myself a cup of the exquisite new brew.  After a long, tiring day, I was ready for my afternoon coffee fix. The only thing standing between me and that delight was the unknown location of my coffee grinder.  I didn’t leave a drawer unopened or a cabinet unrifled through.  It was nowhere to be found.

Later that night, we popped into Target to get a pound of coffee just in case my grinder still proved to be eluding me.  I grabbed a pound (or I should say 12 ounces, since a pound package seems to be obsolete) and we headed home.

My sweet husband was putting the coffee away for me and suddenly stopped, held up the package and asked me, “What’s this?”

Even in my tired, coffee deprived state, I knew the answer – coffee.  But he kept asking so I read the label, “Dunkin Donuts Original Blend WHOLE BEAN Coffee!  Nooooooo!!!”

But it was true.  I bought a bunch of beans.  I considered throwing them out the window to see if they would turn into a coffee beanstalk over night.  Then I could send Bob up the stalk to fetch me some coffee, but I would still have to grind it, so that wouldn’t work.  Instead I frantically called my neighbor.  Melodye understands the importance of coffee and even had an extra grinder.

So now you know how I outsmarted my coffee grinder and am now drinking a delicious cup or organic, shade-grown, Costa Rican coffee.  Thank you Cindi and Melodye.

Snakes Alive!

What is my favorite snake?  The one the hawk just carried off.

If you’ve been reading my stuff for any length of time, you know that I am not a fan of sweating, physical exertion, dirt or being attacked by reptiles.  All of those things disqualified me from any thought of participating in Florida’s 2013 Python Challenge, but they don’t lessen my fascination with people who throw caution, comfort and sanity to the wind to get down and dirty in their quest to achieve their goals (even if said goals are, well, crazy).

Last month I introduced you to the Challenge (see Florida is Being Invaded, The Squeeze is On), so I thought it only proper to bring you the results.  You can click on http://www.pythonchallenge.org/ for more of the story, but I’ll highlight a few facts for you.

Number of pythons harvested:  68

Longest python:  14’ 3”

Most harvested by one participant:  18

Number of registrants:  nearly 1600

Average number of snakes harvested per participant:  0.0425 (this is provided by me as the FWC did not go to the trouble or embarrassment of calculating this vital statistic – also, as with all mathematical references in my blog, the answer was verified by my personal IT and math guy, my husband Bob)

At this point, you are likely asking yourself two questions.

Number one – With only 0.0425 snakes caught by each of those participants, how did they manage to piece together 68 snakes?

Number two – How happy is the FWC with only a handful (they have very large hands) of snakes removed from the Everglades?

I’ll ignore the first question and go right to question number two.  The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission (FWC) is pleased as punch with the information gathered through this challenge and isn’t complaining (out loud) about the teeny-tiny number of pythons wrangled.  Also, since a female can lay 50-100 eggs, the FWC can be assumed to be hopeful that the majority of those snakes harvested were girls.  This may beg the question, how do you determine the gender of a snake?  My answer, I don’t.

Meanwhile, back here in Orlando, I have had my own reptilian encounter, which you will no doubt agree parallels the thrill and adventure of those in the Python Challenge.

It was a typical balmy February day.  I opened my front door to head to the mailbox and came face to face with a terrifying spectacle – no, it was not girl scouts selling those irresistible thin mint cookies; it was a black racer.  “Oh, a friendly snake!  How nice that it’s laying on my front step,” I thought to myself, but what came out of my mouth was, “Aaaahhhhh!” as I quickly retreated into the house and slammed the door.

I gathered my composure and my cell phone and headed out the side door to assess the situation.  I gave the snake a wide berth as I circled my yard and ambled toward my front door.  There he was, waiting for me.  Now, all I ask of the wildlife in my yard (except for birds and bears, of course) is that they be more afraid of me than I am of them, and he wasn’t cooperating.  We had a face off.  I stared.  He stared.  I took a step closer.  He didn’t budge.  In fact, he seemed to be posing for photos.

photo (113)

Considering this is a Black Racer, he wasn’t in any hurry at all.

I did the only thing I could do – I threw a stick at him.  I didn’t want to hurt him, but clearly I needed to make sure he knew who was boss (he did – it was him).  I’m a terrible throw and clearly he was not intimidated.  I gathered my courage, took one more step in his direction, and heaved a piece of cypress mulch at him.  It landed perfectly – leaning against his slender body, which was still on my front step.  He looked at me and stuck out his tongue.  I stuck out my tongue.  It was going to be a long afternoon.

Thankfully, a person standing in the middle of her yard staring at her front door for 15 minutes does attract a certain amount of attention.  My neighbor, John, came to my rescue wielding a round point shovel and an attitude worthy of hunting down even a Burmese python.  The snake took off and was gone in a flash.  Gone but not forgotten.  It’s been a week now and I still have a feeling he’s out there ready to taunt me again.  That’s why if you come to my front door, please don’t disturb the shovel I have propped up against the wall there.  It’s cheap insurance against a wily old snake.

Let Your Imagination Go Wild on Valentine’s Day

Ella's Valentine Note to GW

Ella’s Valentine Note to GW

I remember when my kids were young what a pain in the neck Valentine’s Day was – all those cards, all that candy! It was worse than Halloween or Easter because you added to it the notion of romantic love, which really should not be pushed on any seven-year old. I always preferred to introduce that concept to my kids when they were well into their twenties.

And, speaking of seven-year-olds, our granddaughter Ella has been preparing her Valentine cards. She is a very loving little girl and made sure not to forget anyone. She went down her list – parents, sisters, her brother Jett, Jett’s imaginary friend. Yes, she included them all.

Jett is four. He is badly outnumbered in his house by his three sisters. Thankfully, he has a very special, though imaginary, friend who is a boy. Jett’s friend is a bit different from most of the imaginary friends that I have heard about. Jett’s friend is a blankee; actually he’s more of a persona. His name is Green Wee. We don’t know why.

Green Wee, or GW for short, is so life-like to Jett that he talks about him as if he were real. He told me one day that Green Wee had his cousin visiting him. Jett was happy for him to have company and wasn’t threatened at all by another imaginary friend in the life of GW.
Sometimes GW disappears. (I guess we all need some alone time.) When that happens the entire household is enlisted on a search and rescue. Usually he hasn’t gone too far (after all, he is a blanket). GW closes himself in the bathroom cabinet when he has to “go.” I suppose his waste is akin to lint – he never puddles on the floor.

Bedtime, of course, is when GW is most needed, and he is the only one that can make Jett feel better if he gets a boo-boo. He is one compassionate blankee so I think it is entirely appropriate that Ella sent him a Valentine. It is extra special when you notice that she took the time to make sure that Green Wee knows that Jett loves him.

When I look at Green Wee, I see a well-used blanket or lint in the dryer. In Jett’s imagination he sees a friend. This challenges me to make sure that I’m not treating my loved ones like dryer lint. And I especially don’t want to be a wet blanket to them.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Costco on Superbowl Sunday, Only When Necessary

What would compel my husband and me to go to Costco on Superbowl Sunday? Add to the conundrum the fact that we both had colds and weren’t feeling great. I’ll give you some hints below and then you can see if you can figure it out.

I have a list of things that I refer to as necessities (which clearly are not). If I run out of anything on that list, I will go to the store before the sun sets – it doesn’t matter if it’s raining, sweltering hot out or freezing cold, or if I am sick or healthy. I prefer not to think of this as an obsession, but as an act of love for my husband since I cannot be held responsible for my behavior if anything on my list is denied me. That list includes the following:

  1. Coffee
  2. Half and Half for my coffee
  3. Splenda (again for my coffee – you may be seeing a trend developing)
  4. Caffeine-Free Diet Coke (I can’t have the caffeinated kind because I take my caffeine in through #1 above and also have to cut out that caffeine after 4 PM. I’m so committed to this drink that for Christmas Bob bought me a new “movie purse” that is insulated so I can smuggle my precious drink that won’t keep me up all night into the movies with me since no theater ever carries decaf/diet cola drinks. The purse also has a handy pocket for my popcorn salt, which is a must-have to keep that popcorn at the right salty goodness all the way down to the bottom of the bag. Don’t mock me until you try it.)
  5. Toilet Paper (okay, this one I really would consider a necessity)
20130204-162112.jpg

The perfect gift from my husband – my movie purse (available at Costco, of course)

Then I have the list of things that I prefer to have. These things can wait until morning or until the rain stops. They include:

  1. Breyer’s Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups Ice Cream, which is a wonderful blend of peanut butter light ice cream with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup pieces and a fudge swirl, and it’s only 170 calories per half cup. I periodically get stuck on a particular snack/dessert, and that becomes my go-to-snack. I’ve been stuck on this item for about three years. It may set a new record for me.
  2. Bananas – Could there be a more perfect fruit?
  3. Paper towels – I confess we’re a little on the messy side.
  4. Bottled water

All I need is this ice cream, and coffee, and diet coke, sigh….

I was talking to my daughter today and lamenting going to Costco and braving the crowds on Sunday. When she asked me what it was that we needed so badly, I said, “Water. We were out.”

It sounded funny as I said it. Out of water? Oh, I’ve heard that you can get it from those spigots in the kitchen and bathroom, but I can’t see myself actually drinking that stuff.

My Book-Reading Year in Review

Last year in January, I noticed some of the blogs I was reading offered a list of books that the author had read in the prior year.  I found the lists interesting and motivating, as well as a little intimidating.  There are some voracious readers out there!  I decided I would keep my own list in 2012 and share it with you.

Disclaimer:  I think this is the entire list.  Sometimes I forget to write things down.  I can only hope that I forgot to include a couple of books that would feed my spiritual side or my marriage, but, who am I kidding.  I don’t think there were any.  On my 2013 list there will be.

So without further ado, here’s my list of books that I completed in 2012:

  • Lunatics by Dave Barry – I started the year out with humor.  As I have mentioned in my blog before, I love Dave Barry.  Every time he writes a new book it goes to the top of my must-read list.  This book, though, was very disappointing for me.  I cannot even recommend it.  I did read it all the way through, but that was based on the combination of my love for Dave’s writing and my hope that it would get better.  It had its moments, but it was too crude for my taste.  I should have known by the title that I would go a little crazy finishing it.
  • Forever Erma by Erma Bombeck – This collection of Erma’s best columns was a sheer delight to read.  I laughed.  I cried.  I read a lot of it aloud to my husband (Bob).  Oh, Erma, how I miss you!
  • The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins – I had to know what all the fuss was about.  My daughter and husband had both read the book and raved about it.  The movie was coming out.  I succumbed to the pressure.  During the first third of the book you could hear me saying things like, “This is awful!”  or “How can they do this?”  or “This is disturbing!”  Yet, I was compelled to finish this well-written story and did before the movie was released, which was my goal.
  • Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins – The first book was so good that I had to read this one.  It was a respectable sequel to The Hunger Games – an enjoyable read.
  • Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins – I was committed to finish the series.  Unfortunately, in my opinion, the finale was lacking in comparison to its predecessors.
  • Manhunt, The 12 Day Chase for Lincoln’s Killer by James Swanson – Easily the most gripping book I read last year.  How Mr. Swanson could cover those 12 days in the life of so many different characters was beyond explanation.  I felt like I was watching a play with scene changes.  It was tremendous.
  • The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection by Alexander McCall Smith – This is the 13th offering in my favorite book series, The Number One Ladies Detective Agency.  It is set in modern-day Botswana.  I am amazed at the how each book in this charming series gets better than the one before it.
  • You are a Writer (So Start Acting Like One) by Jeff Goins – I am thankful that I read this book.  At least there is one on my list that helped me in my craft!
  • Ivy and Bean by Annie Barrows and Sophie Blackall – I read this book to Mia and Ella (my granddaughters who are 9 and 7).  We all enjoyed the relationship of the title characters who have nothing in common except the street they live on, yet become best friends.
  • The Great Cake Mystery by Alexander McCall Smith – I was thrilled to see a children’s book based on the main character of the Ladies Detective Agency.  This shows her early inclinations to solve mysteries.  My granddaughters and I loved it.
  • Through the Eyes of Grace by Debi Gray Walter – This is the premier book written by my wonderful friend, Debi.  It was a privilege to walk with Debi as she wrote the book and discuss it with her as it progressed.  The finished product is a wonderful tribute to her grandmother, but even more it’s a story of God’s grace and an encouragement to get to know the older generations in one’s family.
  • The Deepest Waters by Dan Walsh – This is the second book of Dan’s that I have read.  It is a totally captivating love story featuring a shipwreck.  My husband and I both enjoyed it immensely.
  • Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand by Helen Simonson – Set in England, Major Pettigrew is a very proper older man who discovers friendship and love in an unusual way.   The New York Times compared Simonson with McCall Smith, so I had to give this a try.  I do see some similarities and I enjoyed the unfolding of the story and its very satisfying ending.
  • Curiosity Killed the Cat Sitter by Blaize Clement – While on vacation, Bob and I stopped in a cute little book store in Sarasota.  As I perused the section devoted to local authors, I came upon this book.  The title reeled me right in.  I did enjoy the book up until the last few chapters, which were too graphic for me; and, therefore, like Dave Barry’s Lunacy, I can’t recommend it.
  • The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson – This is another book I read to my granddaughters.  Hearing them laugh like crazy and then quote the book back to their parents was more than rewarding.  All I can say is, I don’t care how old you are, if you haven’t read this book, read it.  It’s a hoot and a holler with a great message.
  • The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien – Finally, I read something by Tolkien.  I was embraced by his lovely story telling from the very first chapter.  When my kids were reading this book I was too busy driving them every place imaginable, doing laundry and cooking dinner to do much reading.  At that point, every time I sat down with a book I ended up taking an impromptu nap.  When they released the trailer for this movie, I determined to read the book before seeing it.  Mission accomplished.  Both the book and the movie were great.

I’d love to hear what you are reading.  Please share in the comments section.

At Least the Twitching Has Passed

I am at that point in my life when I thought that things for me would be relatively simple.  The kids are all grown.  The pets have all died.  My husband loves his job.  I don’t have to go to work.

But for somebody who has no job or kids to run around, I don’t find myself home alone much.  I attribute that to the fact that I am part of the generation that provides the bridge between our own children and grandchildren and our parents.  Some call us the sandwich generation.  (In my case, it’s a club sandwich.)  One of the things that I do is transport my father-in-law to doctor appointments a few times a month or run errands with him.  I recently took him to a doctor appointment.  It doesn’t sound too complicated – just pick him up from his Assisted Living Facility (ALF) and drive him to the doctor.  Right?  Wrong!  Doctor appointments begin days before the actual date on which they fall.  Let me tell you the excruciating tale of the last appointment.

Once upon a time, there was a man named Dale who loved to go to the doctor.  (It probably had to do with the fact that it got him out of his apartment.)  Dale had an appointment to get an epidural injection for the relief of his back pain. Since he had various health issues that required many medications, this was complicated.  He had to go off of certain meds during the week prior to receiving the shot.  Dale’s appointment was for a Friday.  I was to pick him up at 9:30 that morning.  Let’s back up a few days so you can see what went on leading up to that appointment.

Two weeks earlier I gave notice to his nurse of the appointment, along with the doctor’s requirement of him discontinuing his Coumadin a week prior to the shot.  We have done this a few times before, so no problem.

Wednesday:  I call the ALF to remind them of the appointment on Friday and remind them I will need fresh blood work to take with me at that time (they already have the prescription for it).  Problem – there will be no time to get the blood work done on Friday morning, so Thursday afternoon will have to suffice.  Fine.

Thursday at 5:15 PM – I get a call from Dale’s nurse saying that somehow he received his Coumadin the night before.  She was very apologetic, and I knew it was unusual for a mistake to be made.  I call the pain doctor, but of course, it’s after hours.  I talk with the answering service; she talks with the doctor; twenty minutes later they agree to allow the injection as long as his blood work looks good.  I call the ALF back and report.  Oops, the blood work was not done; but they assure me they will get someone in very early the next day so we will be set.  By now, I’m actually at the facility picking up Dale to go out and celebrate his 90th birthday with the family.  The family showing is on the light side because five of us have the flu, but the healthy ones still have a nice dinner out to celebrate with him.  My favorite quote of the night was when he said, “I’ve waited 90 years for this dinner.”

Celebrating Bob's father's  90th birthday at Kobe.

Celebrating Bob’s father’s 90th birthday at Kobe.

Later that night – Bob (my husband) takes his dad back to the ALF and reminds him that he is not to eat anything after midnight and not to drink anything after 8:00 AM.

Friday at 9:15 AM – I arrive to pick up Dale only to find that the he does not have the blood work results.  I rush over to the nurses’ station and inquire.  The guy was late to draw the blood.  They try to track him down on his cell phone to have him drop the sample off at the closest lab and fax the results to our pain doctor.  They get his voice mail.  I call the pain doctor who tells me to go ahead and come.  They’ll at least examine him and probably receive the results in time to have the injection.  I inform them I’ll be ten minutes late.  They are gracious.

Friday at 9:50 AM – I’m driving down the road with Dale and we joke about how maybe he’s not supposed to have this shot today after all.  Then it occurs to me to ask a question.  “Dad, you didn’t eat anything today, did you?”  His reply, “Just a half a sandwich at about 7 AM.”  I call the pain doctor from my cell phone.  By now they know my voice.  “Well, he can’t have the shot.  We can’t anesthetize him after eating.  Unless… I guess he could just get a local if he’s okay with that.”  He was.  I inform them we will be about 15 minutes late now that we have entered a traffic-jammed construction zone.  I start twitching.

Friday at 10:15 AM – We arrive at the office only to find out that, of course, they have not yet received the blood work results.  I call the ALF and get their voice mail.  The doctor comes in and prescribes a sedative for me (just kidding).  Seriously, he could see that I was totally stressed out and he was so kind and patient.  He examined my father-in-law and sent us upstairs to await the blood work results.

Friday at 11:15 AM – The results are in – the shot is a “Go.”

On the way home, Dale wants to go shopping or out to lunch, but I remind him that he is to rest for the remainder of the day.  I drop him off at 12:15, confer with the ALF staff and head out.

Friday at 12:30 – I call Bob and let him know he’ll be taking me out to dinner that night.  I should be totally relaxed after treating myself to a massage and a nap.  He was happy to comply.

Florida is Being Invaded – The Squeeze is On!

In case you’ve been wondering if there is anything exciting and/or controversial going on in Florida that might also be worthy of being made fun of, wonder no more.  On Saturday, January 12, Florida kicked off a real nail-biter of a challenge.  It is being covered by the news, but not nearly enough for me; so I thought I’d better make sure that you aren’t missing out on this huge story.

You may or may not know that Florida has a problem with many invasive, non-native species.  Lionfish, Muscovy ducks, Cuban tree frogs, and Hulk Hogan are a few of our more popular ones.  But none, not even Hulk Hogan, can cause the stir that the Burmese Pythons are creating in the Everglades right now.  In layman’s terms, the snakes are eating everything in sight.  They are putting the squeeze on our native mammals, birds and reptiles.  They are wreaking havoc on our ecosystem.

Therefore, in the true, Florida spirit that spits in the eye of every pesky mosquito and reptile around, 2013 Python Challenge is under way.  The competition will conclude on February 10 at 11:59 PM.  The idea is to eliminate (kill) as many pythons as possible.  (This is the controversial part.  PETA is up in arms about this.  Oops, maybe my wording should be changed because I don’t know if PETA actually gets up in arms, but you get the picture.)

Anyway, there is a prize for the highest number harvested (killed) and a prize for the largest one harvested (killed), too.  Anyone 18 or over that has an extra $25 can enter.  And 16 and 17 year-olds are welcome when accompanied by a registered parent.  So, what are you waiting for?  Head on down to The Everglades; grab your machete, guns and Off! and come on.

Yes, for a mere $25 you can have the time of your life, assuming you don’t:

  1. Get strangled by a python
  2. Have an alligator attack you
  3. Get bitten by a water moccasin or any of the other venomous snakes that inhabit the area
  4. Become overwhelmed with a heat stroke
  5. Contract any of the following mosquito borne diseases:
    1.  West Nile Virus
    2.  Malaria
    3. Dengue Fever
    4. Encephalitis

We really have it all down here.  And, talk about a deal – that price is approximately the same as two days of parking at any of the major theme parks.  You are probably starting to plan your trip right now and no doubt asking yourself, what can I use to harvest (kill) those big boys?

Here is where the real bang for your buck kicks in, you can use a gun.  Warning, they insist there is an ethical obligation to kill these snakes in a humane manner.  So, play nice.  Nice means shooting the snake in the head is fine.  Specifically that means you must be careful “to use a safe but effective caliber and making sure that you destroy the snake’s brain.”  (This is quoted from http://www.pythonchallenge.org/toolkit/euthanasia.aspx where you can get all the info you need for your outing.)

The trickiest part of shooting the snake is finding the correct spot to target.  They instruct the hunter to make an imaginary line from the rear of the head on the left side to the right eye and then do the same on the opposite side of the head.  The point of intersection is the target.  I can only imagine myself finding a snake and trying to draw those lines in my head before I blow the thing to smithereens.  I guess it’s a good thing I’m not out there.  Figuring out how to follow the hunt on twitter was challenge enough for me.

They are also on board with using a machete to decapitate the snake, though you can tell they aren’t quite as happy about that, what with the chance that a clean cut may not be made and the ravenous, invading snake that has so compromised our state’s ecosystem might not be killed with one fell swoop.  Not to mention the fact that if you chop the snake up into more than two pieces, it will not be eligible for the longest snake award.  I’m not making that up; it’s in the official rules.

Your next question is likely, who came up with this plan to send seasoned hunters and novices alike into the wild to grub for twelve-foot reptiles?  It’s the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission (FWC) and its partners.  These guys love an opportunity to have dozens of armed people descend on the Everglades for an old-fashioned snake hunt.  I think it’s a great idea, too, though I will not participate due to the fact that I am really pretty wimpy and don’t like to sweat, be strangled by snakes, or attacked by alligators.  If I want to be bitten by a mosquito, I don’t have to go all the way down there for that.

I was wondering who can afford to take an entire month off of work to play hide and seek with pythons with only an off-chance that they may win a whopping $1500 prize.  But I discovered that many of those registered are not out there every day; and hey, unemployment is still pretty rough down here, so if time is not a problem, why not go for it.  (See my list of five good reasons above.)

And if you’re thinking about stacking the deck by planting a python or two for you to “harvest,” think again.  That’s a no-no.  According to the official rules, harvesting a python that was formerly a pet gets you disqualified.  That rule is a bit ambiguous to me because the python problem is largely a result of people letting their pet pythons go in the wild when they became too much for them to handle.  Yes, all kittens, puppies and baby snakes are adorable (not!), but they do grow up.  Think, people, before you purchase that exotic animal!  Talk about buyer’s remorse!

As of this writing the count of pythons stands at eleven, but it’s early.  Every Friday and Tuesday the official website will be updated.  You can click  http://pythonchallenge.org/ to keep up with it.