An Apple & Orange

Anyone who doesn't believe in time travel hasn't yet been instantly whisked back to his childhood by a smell from years past. Growing up in the deep hollows of the Appalachian mountains of West Virginia I had no idea, nor concern, that I was poor. All my friends were exactly like me except for the ones whom I knew were less fortunate than us. But we were all poor. The one advantage that, looking back I realize, was we heated our house in winter with natural gas. No one else did. Gas had been piped over the mountain and the line had ended at our house and daddy had tapped into it. All the other houses on the hollow still used coal to warm their houses. This is where a particular smell comes into this story. I still remember the smell of burning coal as the smoke from many houses drifted low along the creek bed. It was a pleasant smell to me and a reminder that in the front rooms of my friends and family along the creek there was a warm and comforting coal fire to shelter beside on harsh cold days and nights. At times now even the suggestion of the smell of burning coal smoke takes me back to my childhood.
There is however one other smell form my boyhood that never fails to transport me across the miles and the years instantaneously. When I smell it now I am in another place and time as though I've been energized in the transporter room of the Enterprise and beamed backward in time to my youth. Once a year on the Sunday before Christmas the Free Will Baptist Church would bless all the country families and children in attendance with a Christmas "treat bag". We'd wait impatiently through the singing, the testimonies (lots and lots of testimonies), the sermon and finally the invitation; hoping no one would decide to be saved, and then at long last the benediction. Then the long awaited Christmas bags were handed out by the deacons as we all filed out of the building. I will never forget if I live a hundred years the aroma that greeted me on that one special yearly occasion  as I opened my brown paper bag. For to a poor child it was not a treat bag, or a Christmas bag, it was a treasure bag. I'd open it slowly, put my face in the bag and breath in the delicious scent of an orange. I knew that it had come far away and that it would be the only one I'd see until next year. And the smell was like heaven to me. That signature smell of the round golden Florida fruit then would mingle with the apple beside it. It was a Red Delicious, polished and shined. It was nothing like the small knotty ones we collected from our trees. This one was special and fancy. But these two once a year treasures wasn't all; for the bag also contained hard candy with indescribable odors of sweetness and colorful coconut bonbons and chocolate colored cream drops. I hesitate to start eating it for I couldn't decide which I loved best the taste or the smell.
I wish I was a boy again. If I was I'd attend the Christmas Sunday at the Free Will Baptist church and when it ended I'd happily accept my treat bag and I'd open it and smell again that heavenly aroma. I think I'd have a deeper appreciation for it now. Now that I have a life time of living behind me. A lifetime of experiencing the good and bad, the pleasant and unpleasant, the sweet and the sour oranges; and the polished and shining red delicious of my life.

O I almost forgot. Let me introduce...

Who does this? The question that I asked my wife recently. We had just ended a video chat with our son in which he had panned his phone around the wall of a hospital room till it came to a stop on the cute little round face of a newborn baby. His 6th child & our 10th grandchild had just been born. Our 10th ... that we did not even know was coming! Surprise, surprise. Suddenly we were the grand parents of a beautiful baby girl. He and our daughter in law had somehow kept the pregnancy a secret. Well yes they do live several states away. And yes we do lead busy lives. And no we do not get together that often. So keeping the thing a secret was not that difficult. But it was not how they did as much as why. I thought about it. Who does this? I will tell you who. My son does this. He waits till his kid is born and breastfeeding  in the hospital then video chats it to his parents? My son does this. He did not do it because he thought we would disapprove. He knows we are happy for his choice to have a big family. Well, happy as long as he does not get killed off and leave them to us to raise, I am good with it. He wanted to do something most guys do not do. Uh, he did. He is creative that way. He hears the rhythm of music that most cannot hear. And he follows it. He dances to it. He is a fantastic father (he gets a lot of practice at it). He is a great and faithful husband. He is a hard worker. He is a loyal son. He is a US soldier who served his country in Japan and Pakistan. He is an Army Reserve National Gardsman. And he has a unique sense of humour
That is who does this. So after my shock wore off I was like "was that a unique video chat or what"?  That is just my unique son. I am so proud of that boy.
O he may not be as financially successful as I would like for him to be. But he makes up for it in other ways. For he is more successful than most guys at loving and being loved, in caring and being cared for, in gentleness and in kindness and a dozen other ways. So who does this? Thanks son. I am glad you do.

Love Me. That Is All I Ask

It is a fantastic morning here on the sunny shores of the Gulf of Mexico. The Spanish moss clinging to the branches of the live oaks glows golden in early morning sunlight.  I'm in a good mood. Being here in this warm sunny place and with a disposition to match it, reminds me of something I have been wanting to ask all of my friends. Would you please just love me? That is all I ask of you.
I do not ask you to always agree with me on every subject. That would just be ridiculous. I mean that would require you to forfeit your right to form opinions, to think independly, be a free thinker. Who would want a friend to do that? Just love me that is all.
I admit that I believe my opinions to be right in about 99% of the time. But that is not enough to cause me to require you to agree with me always. How boring our existence would be were all our ideas and opinions exactly the same. So love me. That Is All I Ask of you.
If you guys can love me even though we may have vastly differing opinions on various subjects. Then I too can love you as well. And really there are far more things that unite us than devide us. So love me, that is all I ask.

When Deplorable Was Not Cool

Up in a holler on the Ely creek in rural southern West Virginia is where I was raised and spent my first 20 years. I have no regrets for where I was raised. I am not ashamed of it. There is nothing wrong with growing up miles & miles from the nearest stop light. I am honestly proud of where I came from. Proud that I grew up with the hard working, average, ordinary God fearing, patriotic people in the hills of West Virginia. We were the original deplorables before being deplorable was popular. I am proud to be identified as one of them. I wouldn't  change it. Really.
It's been more than forty years since I've lived there. I've been alot of places and seen a lot of things. But I have never gotten so smart, so elite and so deluded to think that going against my upbringing could ever make me look like a better person. I know and have seen a few small minded people who like to put on Aires. It's so transparently obvious they are ashamed of where they came from. Some smooth talking celebrity or perhaps a politician or a hollywood actor or worse some sports figure convinced them somehow they were inferior. Made them ashamed. And now these individuals seem to feel that if they can only act like and sound like and perhaps think like the popular crowd then they can escape the self inflicted, self imagined stigma associated with their upbringing.
And so they stagger through their lives grasping at every trendy political ideology, every liberal, leftist, socialistic thought that comes along. Hoping that everyone will notice how very far they have risen from their low and humble beginnings.
Somehow I'm reminded of some unending episode of Walking Dead. You can see it cant you? They wander off sightlessly  across the fields and streets dragging themselves along except in stead of looking for flesh to eat they search for the latest left wing social trend. They hear about some athlete who thinks he can get more attention by being unpatriotic and disrespecting America and off they go en masse to show him how popular he is. And how modern & correct they are.
Then suddenly it becomes trendy to tear down historical statues because someone is offended by them and these sad puppet walkers head off in that direction too. Or the motion picture actors decide that to disrespect the President is the IN thing to do. And wouldn't you know it...off they go like Lemmings to show their disrespect as well.  Then some left wing celebrity cries on tv begging to abolish the 2nd amendment and rid the country of guns! And off they go, screaming like their hair is on fire. I feel abit sad for them. I really do. It's sad when people give up their right to think for themselves.
Ya know go ahead and call me what you like. I don't mind being called deplorable. As long as you allow me the right to, at least, form my own opinions by thinking freely on my own.  And finally please love me that's all I ask of you.

Back Roads and Back Bays

Freeways will get you from point A to point B faster. A guy can get from home to work more quickly by taking the hov lane. I mean who has time these days to meander along some back road. We've places to go.

On the other hand there is a lot to be said for the benefits of slowing down and taking your time as you make your way through life.

They're out there...somewhere. Those little things. Those little pleasures that go unoticed when your'e traveling in the passing lane. But they tend to appear out of nowhere when you slow down and observe your surroundings.

   Your pleasurable moments may be lingering up the holler or back on the ridge or down by the creek.

Or on a shallow water flat just off shore some deserted island in the Gulf.

Florida is home to over 2600 miles of saltwater shoreline including our Cedar Keys National Wildlife Islands.

Grab a snorkle and a mask let's take a look.

On a hot August day when the tide is out and the water is, o let's call it hot tub temp. It's amazing the number of marine dwellers you can encounter ranging in size from a grain of sand to the three foot shark that just swam by (shiver) yep even in the hot tub.

Take the crabs that make their homes in the shells of other marine mollusks. Nine of ten seashells you see is home not to the sea snail that started off his life there. Nope. But to the Hermit Crab. Hermits live in the abandoned shells of Lightening Shells, Crown Conchs, Moon Snails, Pear Whelks,

Island stuff

Thousands of years ago these low sandy islands now called the Cedar Keys were inhabited by races of people called shell  cultures. From about 2500 bc to 1000 ad they lived, hunted, fished and flourished here and along the entire gulf coast.
They left behind some reminders of their lives here on the islands. They built mounds constructed of thousands of oyster shells, clam shells, turtle shells, deer bones, conch, the remains of countless meals. Many of these shell mounds still exist to this day here.
They also created pottery. Yesterday we paddled to a remote island and discovered that a recent storm had unearthed what I think is a cooking area that could be more than 2000 years old. Many many broken shards of pottery all in one place. A long time ago unknown human hands formed these now broken vessels and marked them with sometimes intricate designs.

They Are Just Different That Way

Who doesn't find plant and animal life, in all it diversity, completely captivating. I do. I always have. Growing up in the hills of West Virginia my mother and daddy told me all about the trees and edible wild plants and wildflowers growing along the hollows and hill sides of our home. I learned & knew them all. They all intrigued me. When I moved to Florida many years ago I inherited a completely new and different classroom of living things. The plants and animals living at latitude 29 degrees N. An example is the Live Oak. The live oak is an ever green tree here. At a undisclosed time somewhere around late February and early March brand new live oak leaves are born and begin to grow
And at the same time they seemingly shove last year's leaves off the branches. This happens so inconspicuously that only the most astute observer notices it. This same tree is  unique as well for it is home to a myriad of other plants. It's branches are litteraly a Florida Condominium Complex for various odd plant species. To name a few: the resurrection plant and resurrection fern both live on its branches. Both go completely dormant and unnoticed by passerbys until...until the rainy season. They revive and every branch of the Live Oak tree is lush and green with plants that need no soil. Which reminds me of another inhabitant of Live Oak City. Air Plants.. various species of air plants live there. Also the ball moss and the tallandsia their distinctive silver pendoulous forms many feet in length hang happily from the Live Oak branches.
But I meant to tell you about a family of plants that live here called succulents. Probably the most well known of these is the Aloe. Several species of Aloe grow wild here. I collected some a couple years back and that was the beginning of what has become a fairly large collection of succulents. Succulents have adapted the ability to retain liquid in the leaves & stems and so they can withstand long periods without any care whatsoever. Hence the perfect plant. They live happily here on our porch at our house on a hot, sandy, mostly sunny all the time, island in the Gulf of Mexico. I'll tell you how hot and sandy it is here. I do not mow grass. There just isn't grass to mow. Just sand and a few tenacious weeds that I periodically beat to death with the weed eater. So the succulents are at home here. They have mostly originated in Central & South Africa. Think Sahara. So there is very little I can do to kill them ...except perhaps care for them too much.
They are all, at best, unusual. And many are down right strange. The Pliosphylos Neelei also called split rock is one of them. See the photo below. It is a mimicry plant. It mimics a rock and has no more than 4 "leaves" at a time. These leaves  actually look like round smooth stones with a split down the center.
Another strange one is the Kalanchoe Laetiverins, the mother of Thousands. It reproduces by growing thousands of new plants along the perimeter of its leaves. The new plants of this succulent are fully formed, complete with tiny roots. These new baby plantlets eventually began to drop off the parent plant and grow wherever they find sand.

Still hear your sea winds blowing