It just looks like the Dismal Swamp

Soggy bottom

If this had been a true honeymoon the weather would have been perfect...rainy, grey, dismal...we didn't want to go out anyway, did we dear?

But, in truth this was a slightly different honeymoon, my first trip in the big mobile palace. No where for the cat to hide, so she slept. What's new? It made lots of sense to take along a copilot, but not the first time. At least there were no "portuguese men o' war" (jelly fish) like on my first honeymoon. They hurt!

So here I sit with Spot, the music playing, the heater blasting, coffee brewing, drying out and writing this post script. I have photos, weather be damned! You'll see. This is Hillsborough State Park. There are miles of trails, rain, a pretty river, rain, no tourists...because of the rain and I actually am enjoying it.

So there was a glitch or two, I need to work on a better checklist. One that includes a toothbrush. It's a bit strange ordering breakfast with  a toothbrush "to go". 

more pix...

Brown

We humans are really pretty brassy. Just because we can reason we take it upon ourselves to tag every item in creation with a name...or several. Take a quick look around you. Is there a single thing that you can't put at least one name too? Like...girl, female, woman, etc.

But, do we always get it right? After spending the last few days walking trails around, through and over woods, swamps and rivers I must report that I have seen exactly one item in the color of black...my notebook! Nature is not in agreement with us. Brown is the color of death, not black...we erred! And green, is very much the color of life. I did see some dormant trees that had this dull grey-green hue, but no black. No grim reaper either, everything falls, lies there and decays into plant food. Natures way. Here is a little "living" proof.

Contentment

Response requested

There was something I wanted to buy on this past trip to Rome. I really wanted a "nice" fountain pen. I like them, they put ink to paper differently than ball points, rollers,etc. OK, I just like them.

There are many shops in Rome that sell fine writing utensils and I visited several and window shopped more. Beautiful pens, beautiful displays and spectacular prices. So I returned to Florida, where they think fountain pens are the ones you dip into the ink each time you write a word or two. And, I shopped antique stores...Yesterday I gave up. I went on line and found what I was looking for. It will arrive doppo-domani (day after tomorrow) and I am very happy. 

Oh, what kind? Made in Italy of course! Even with the 6000 mile trip over the pond it was still about $50 cheaper here. Just how can you figure it out? I think to much, just accept what life brings! Via UPS Ken! Don't mess it up!

Welcome back...really?

The damned dreaded day started poorly and with several hours remaining here I sit, back here stateside. Atlanta. Airport. "This" is "NOT" home. At home there are choices, ones that I, as an individual can contribute to. Here I sit in a terminal (doesn't that translate to mean the end?), listening to paid rabble-rousers on the large screen TV doing their rendition of Henny Penny..."the sky is falling,etc." 

Somewhere, someone made a decision to put this clap-trap drivel on all the screens at top sound levels. And, that self-righteous fool got paid and is most likely still being paid well while we, the tired, the grouchy, wait for flight announcements...that we can't hear. And then, some bright faced, smiling idiot asks exactly the perfect question, "Aren't you glad to be back?"

He only got a small portion of a wave, about a finger's worth!

Zombie Jamboree

The sky is pink on the horizon, but it is still dark as I head off to breakfast. Passing beneath the 34th street underpass I see a glint of light sparkling in front of me. It's a bicycle and it's followed by a horde of zombies! Actually they are the daily cast of characters stumbling, shambling and skittering their way from the methadone clinic to their bus stop on the opposite side of the street. As I brake to avoid them, I am wondering how anyone can be so totally impervious to their surroundings. Do they feel omnipotent?  Are they so totally withdrawn from reality that they neither sense nor feel anything? Maybe all the above.

Each and every one of these poor souls was at one time the glint in their Mother and Father's eyes...their pride, their joy. Now they are reduced to this semi-somnolent state. Yelling and screaming to be heard, but nothing to say. Instinctively herding together for safety and to be seen, but they have turned themselves into the invisible. They are not seen, nor heard. 

Do they still feel? I don't know. I am reminded of something said over a pulpit years ago..."do they not bleed?" No answer. I just wish to avoid harming one of them. However poor their chances are, however low their hopes, I do not want to be the one that removes that rapidly dimming chance to return to humanity.