The October Thing is Always in November

Last night we enjoyed the 20-something anniversary of the October thing. Only it is always in November now. It began in October and kept sliding forward year by year until  it settled in to the second weekend of November, or thereabouts. But everyone kept right on calling it The October Thing. It is always on a Saturday night. That hasn't changed. The whole family goes over to the lot my parents own on the banks of a small lake, where they've strung lights, set up a few tables and chairs, and my step dad has a lovely campfire burning. All the children can't resist playing in it. They start with sticks, then surreptitiously sneak other things in to it, like paper plates, until they get caught and get in trouble. Of course now it is the younger kids. The older kids play other pranks.

Everyone brings some food to share. We never coordinate, so we never know what it will be. Last night it was mostly cookies and chips. But there was also my sister's incomparable devilled eggs. And my brother brought "long tailed frog," also called "swamp lizard." Some people call it alligator meat. Because, of course, that is what it is. I had the tiniest piece I could find, just so I could honestly tell you I have eaten alligator meat. Nope, it doesn't taste like chicken. Maybe like pork... I guess it is "what eats the other white meat." A very mild, rather chewy meat.

The main course, though, is hot dogs that we all cook on forked metal cooking poles. I cook mine until it is bubbling, but it is usually still ice cold when I bite in to it. Last night I got it done really well. That was a first. It doesn't matter, really, because the main event is roasting marshmallows. Everyone has their own special way of doing it. One young niece likes to cook them, but not eat them, so she is always going around begging everyone else to let her cook theirs. Her special technique is to catch them on fire, blow them out when they are bubbly and blackened on the outside, then present them to the recipient. I like to get them toasted medium brown all the way around so they are a little crispy on the outside, and melty on the inside. Perfect! My once a year treat. My step dad always makes his hot spiced cider, too, and has leaves it on its own special table in a tiny crockpot.

We talk about all kinds of things. We talk politics and religion and sports, hunting and fishing, video games, tell funny stories and plan future get togethers. My brother brought his pet raccoon last night. It loves to drink soda out of his cup. A teenage niece recited "The Man From Snowy River," Australian accents and all. Sometimes we sing, and one year a son who'd had a dancing lesson taught the box step to a younger cousin.

Gradually, later then they'd intended to stay, different families begin gathering up chairs and children and heading for home, usually taking chips or cookies with them. Everyone is full of marshmallows and root beer, and smells like smoke after our once a year, micro-camping family adventure. 

Sunset Beach

This past weekend, we headed out to the beach for a sunset stroll. We've been going about once a week since spring and it is a highlight of the week. As soon as we step out on to the sand, I can feel my blood pressure going down a few notches. Taking a deep breath of the salty brine, we walk along the shore, seeming to keep pace with all manner of boats skimming across the bay. There are sailboats, yachts, Coast Guard cutters, barges, speedboats, Sunset Cruise boats, and many more.
My honey holds my hand, making sure I don't trip on driftwood, leaving me free to gaze clear to the horizon. Mullet jump while seagulls, herons, and other sea birds wheel and dive, their raucous cries filling the air. Often the tide is low, leaving tide pools to explore, full of baby horseshoe crabs, starfish and living shells. Often we will spot a dolphin swimming parallel to the shore fishing for dinner.
Lots of people come to fish for dinner as well, some with poles and some with nets. Others paddle kayaks and canoes, swim, look for shells, fly kites, sail, walk, and picnic. Sometimes the sky is clear and blue, with blazing sun; other days storms blow in, stirring up the waves in to froth and making interesting patterns with the clouds.
When the sun gets low enough, all eyes turn to see what colors it will bring this time. Sometimes it is delicate, pale pastels, edging the clouds and turning the sand pink where the tide has filled little pools on the shore. Other nights it is a bold orange and melts like butter down in to the sea. We watch in awe until the last bit of color is gone, then turn toward the magnificent moonrise to head home, sleepy and content with the beauty God has provided.

Spider Art

Things I've Done Pictures

I promised I would show some pictures to go with the Things I've Done tag, so here they are. Above is my Grandpa with the small plane he flew for a while. I loved going up in it!

Below I am playing my snare, in about 7th grade. I hated those glasses, but now they are "in."

In 1976, the Bicentennial, my family went to Washington, D.C. Back then you could tour inside the White House, which we did - we toured everything! Below is the Lincoln Memorial.
This is the overnight train, in our case from Florida to Indiana. I am in front. I look scared, but I had a blast.
This isn't the elephant I rode, but it is at Lion Country Safari, passing in front of our car. You drive around through a nature preserve while all these wild animals run free. It's amazing. At the end, there is a park, where you can ride elephants, see baby wild animals, and all sorts of things.
Here's my little brother getting "patted" by Pluto at one of our many Disney trips.
When I was 8 or 9, my step-dad took us out to a hunting cabin he and some friends had deep in the Everglades. Mom loved to drive the swamp buggy. One time she raced my step-dad; he was driving the Land Rover we'd come in. We were so far away from anything, and we had a wonderful time. I'm in the yellow shirt.
We took an amazing trip when I was 14, camping for weeks and hiking through the West. Here is Old Faithful.

Winter Day

The sun is shining down like a benediction from a flawless sky, sapphire-blue and cloudless. A variety of small birds sing their hearts out from sheer happiness. Several larger birds ride the wind currents, strong and powerful daredevils breathtaking in their freedom. Squirrels are clowning around on the power lines like tiny performers in a circus highwire act. Butterflies flutter by, weaving among the roses in tantalizing flashes of orange and yellow. The roses lift their faces to the sun, perfect buds in pink, red, white or yellow slowly opening, gently releasing their soft perfume into the beauty of the day. It is winter in Florida once again.