Her new favorite way to sleep...with her head under the bed. Whatever works.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
The Bounty of the Earth
As I've written before I love the great state of Alabama and for reasons most of you are aware of I'm there quite a bit to see my momma. I've got to admit though that as I much as I love going to our family farm at all times of the year I especially love THIS time of year because of the bounty of fresh veggies I come back with from a family friend's garden. It is not unusual for me to return to Florida with the back of the Caddy loaded down with fresh squash, zuchinni, new potatoes, okra, various peas and beans, peppers, cantaloupe, watermelon and TOMATOES.
Oh my, the tomatoes. These aren't those red orbs that are passed off as tomatoes at the grocery store. Those are gassed to hasten "ripening" and have no flavor and a texture that I'd best not try to describe. These tomatoes are luscious, red, juicy, full of flavor bites of heaven that soaked up the goodness of good Alabama soil and ripened under the hot summer sun. These tomatoes require little but a couple slices of bread with a little mayo, salt and pepper to become the very taste of summer for me. I won't even talk about what happens when you add some cold, crisp leaves of lettuce and some thick-sliced bacon.
Oh my, the tomatoes. These aren't those red orbs that are passed off as tomatoes at the grocery store. Those are gassed to hasten "ripening" and have no flavor and a texture that I'd best not try to describe. These tomatoes are luscious, red, juicy, full of flavor bites of heaven that soaked up the goodness of good Alabama soil and ripened under the hot summer sun. These tomatoes require little but a couple slices of bread with a little mayo, salt and pepper to become the very taste of summer for me. I won't even talk about what happens when you add some cold, crisp leaves of lettuce and some thick-sliced bacon.
Here…have some napkins to wipe up the drool.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Sweet Home Alabama
In the days since a mighty storm devastated portions of the Southeast I've tried several times to sit down and write about what happened and the aftermath. It wasn't until last night when my honey was quietly playing the guitar and played those very distinctive opening notes to "Sweet Home Alabama" that I found the words.
I have the great fortune of being able to call several places "home." Most fortunate of all is that they're all in the deep South. I was born in Louisiana -- New Orleans to be exact. Between there and my daddy's hometown in Winn Parish I have a place that's home. I was raised in Alabama. From the time that I was three years old until I was 22 I lived in the state that became a legend around the world because of a band called Lynyrd Skynyrd. And for almost 17 years now (gosh, the math and the years it equals is FRIGHTENING) I've called Florida home.
And over the years I've seen all three of the places I'm fortunate to call home face trials and tribulations in the form of storms. Beloved Pensacola has been hit by several hurricanes with Ivan having the most devastating impact. It seemed to tear a hole in my heart to see many of my favorite places damaged and impaired. Never will I forget the images from New Orleans after Katrina...remembering what a great time I had the last time I was in the Superdome as people were there suffering.
But nothing has rendered me speechless like the devastation in Sweet Home Alabama. The little town I grew up in, Demopolis, was 45 minutes south of Tuscaloosa. We had doctors and a hospital and a Big K (the VERY early version of a Wal-Mart) and several locally-owned restaurants. But if you had to see a "specialist" or have a major procedure OR find the Jordache jeans that Brooke Shields was sporting...you went to Tuscaloosa. There was not one but TWO malls. AND there was Red Lobster!!
Tuscaloosa is where my momma and I bought my first pageant dress. Tuscaloosa is where my best friend Cindy and I used birthday money to buy a week's worth of matching outfits for camp. Tuscaloosa is where I saw Top Gun for the first time. Tuscaloosa is where I first heard a dirty little word called cancer in reference to my daddy. Tuscaloosa sheltered our little family of three through 14 months of treatment.
My destination was Tuscaloosa the night I got a phone call about my sweet momma and I jumped on a plane not knowing if I'd make it in time. But I did make it on time. And momma rallied. During the 16 days she spent in the stroke intensive care unit at DCH Regional Medical Center when I could only see her 4 times a day for 30 minutes, Tuscaloosa was there. The Starbucks on McFarland Boulevard was warming in the cold days of December. Full Moon BBQ provided much needed sustenance and a good cold beer after a long day at the hospital. The stores of McFarland Mall came to the rescue when I realized that I'd packed 5 pairs of pants but only two sweaters in my haste to pack.
Growing up in Alabama I wasn't an Alabama fan...I was, and still am, all about that school that chants "War Eagle." But I am a fan of Tuscaloosa and am forever grateful for all that small town in Alabama has been for me and my family. In the days, weeks, months and unfortunately, years ahead that it will take T-town to rebuild please know that I believe in you.
I have the great fortune of being able to call several places "home." Most fortunate of all is that they're all in the deep South. I was born in Louisiana -- New Orleans to be exact. Between there and my daddy's hometown in Winn Parish I have a place that's home. I was raised in Alabama. From the time that I was three years old until I was 22 I lived in the state that became a legend around the world because of a band called Lynyrd Skynyrd. And for almost 17 years now (gosh, the math and the years it equals is FRIGHTENING) I've called Florida home.
And over the years I've seen all three of the places I'm fortunate to call home face trials and tribulations in the form of storms. Beloved Pensacola has been hit by several hurricanes with Ivan having the most devastating impact. It seemed to tear a hole in my heart to see many of my favorite places damaged and impaired. Never will I forget the images from New Orleans after Katrina...remembering what a great time I had the last time I was in the Superdome as people were there suffering.
But nothing has rendered me speechless like the devastation in Sweet Home Alabama. The little town I grew up in, Demopolis, was 45 minutes south of Tuscaloosa. We had doctors and a hospital and a Big K (the VERY early version of a Wal-Mart) and several locally-owned restaurants. But if you had to see a "specialist" or have a major procedure OR find the Jordache jeans that Brooke Shields was sporting...you went to Tuscaloosa. There was not one but TWO malls. AND there was Red Lobster!!
Tuscaloosa is where my momma and I bought my first pageant dress. Tuscaloosa is where my best friend Cindy and I used birthday money to buy a week's worth of matching outfits for camp. Tuscaloosa is where I saw Top Gun for the first time. Tuscaloosa is where I first heard a dirty little word called cancer in reference to my daddy. Tuscaloosa sheltered our little family of three through 14 months of treatment.
My destination was Tuscaloosa the night I got a phone call about my sweet momma and I jumped on a plane not knowing if I'd make it in time. But I did make it on time. And momma rallied. During the 16 days she spent in the stroke intensive care unit at DCH Regional Medical Center when I could only see her 4 times a day for 30 minutes, Tuscaloosa was there. The Starbucks on McFarland Boulevard was warming in the cold days of December. Full Moon BBQ provided much needed sustenance and a good cold beer after a long day at the hospital. The stores of McFarland Mall came to the rescue when I realized that I'd packed 5 pairs of pants but only two sweaters in my haste to pack.
Growing up in Alabama I wasn't an Alabama fan...I was, and still am, all about that school that chants "War Eagle." But I am a fan of Tuscaloosa and am forever grateful for all that small town in Alabama has been for me and my family. In the days, weeks, months and unfortunately, years ahead that it will take T-town to rebuild please know that I believe in you.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
It was just one of those weeks...
...even the dog was driven to drink.
Tess made a special guest appearance at one of our favorite local pubs owned by a dear friend. She had her own bar stool and fans flocked to spend time with her. Of course as soon as I turned my back she was hittin' the hard stuff.
Just a little humor to help lighten the load during the last days of Legislative Session in Tallahassee and as we unite in thoughts and prayers for our family and friends across the Southeast who were effected by the devastating storms.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Content
Sleeping until 7:30 am. Three sets of muddy paws on the kitchen floor. Big glass of ice tea while reading the morning news. Laundry in the washer and dryer. Riding down to the coast with the windows down and country music on the radio. Standing knee deep in water with my honey's BEST rod and reel...not caring if I catch a single thing. Having a beer and catching up with a dear friend. A stack of magazines, three furry "kids" and wine on the deck while watching the sun dance across freshly planted flowers. Listening to the thunder roll in. Some time in the kitchen. Cuddling on the couch. Clean sheets on the bed. I am content.
Monday, February 28, 2011
I have found me a home...
I went home this past weekend. Not home to Alabama...not to the house I grew up in. I went to my adopted home. I went to the water. I don't know at what point I found the Gulf of Mexico or if it found me. I'm thinking the latter. All I know is that those waters feel like home.
I didn't grow up going to the beach every summer like most of my friends. I grew up in a small town in central Alabama where two rivers ran together. Many a weekend was spent on a bass boat heading to a floating dock to swim in murky, mysterious waters. But my daddy wasn't a fan of the beach...he preferred the mountains. We ventured to the beach a couple of times and I loved it.
It wasn't until I moved to Florida after college that I truly was able to embrace the allure of salt water. I love the fact that I can get in my car at home and in 30 minutes time roll down the window and smell that briny air.
No matter how anxious or stressed I am just a few minutes smelling that air and watching the waves and I can feel a change in me...my blood pressure drops...my soul is soothed.
I don't think it's by accident that I'm surrounded by a group of friends who are like family...well, they are my family...that love the water as much as I do. It is with them and because of them that most of my fond memories from adulthood so far involve being on the waters of the Gulf.
Countless hours have been spent standing hip deep on a sand bar with a cold beer in hand or cruising up the St. Marks River looking for the perfect swimming hole to jump in and cool off from a day in the hot sun. Hours spent on a deck overlooking white sand and blue waves rolling into shore are my version of heaven. And toasting a glorious Gulf coast sunset with champagne and my friends is life affirming.
A dear friend and I exchanged presents at Christmas and her gift simply took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. It was a series of three paintings representing three places on the Gulf coast where we have shared cocktails, heartaches, triumphs, tears and laughter. One is the St. Marks lighthouse were we often escape for an afternoon of beer and oysters. The second is a drop-dead gorgeous sunset on St. George Island where we have fled to on several occasions to escape the realities of life. And the third is of the iconic white Adirondac chairs overlooking the beach at Seaside where we make an annual pilgramage to indulge our love of the water and wine at a wine festival.
I haven't hung them yet because I haven't found the perfect place but I do know where those images will always have a home...in my soul.
I didn't grow up going to the beach every summer like most of my friends. I grew up in a small town in central Alabama where two rivers ran together. Many a weekend was spent on a bass boat heading to a floating dock to swim in murky, mysterious waters. But my daddy wasn't a fan of the beach...he preferred the mountains. We ventured to the beach a couple of times and I loved it.
It wasn't until I moved to Florida after college that I truly was able to embrace the allure of salt water. I love the fact that I can get in my car at home and in 30 minutes time roll down the window and smell that briny air.
No matter how anxious or stressed I am just a few minutes smelling that air and watching the waves and I can feel a change in me...my blood pressure drops...my soul is soothed.
I don't think it's by accident that I'm surrounded by a group of friends who are like family...well, they are my family...that love the water as much as I do. It is with them and because of them that most of my fond memories from adulthood so far involve being on the waters of the Gulf.
Countless hours have been spent standing hip deep on a sand bar with a cold beer in hand or cruising up the St. Marks River looking for the perfect swimming hole to jump in and cool off from a day in the hot sun. Hours spent on a deck overlooking white sand and blue waves rolling into shore are my version of heaven. And toasting a glorious Gulf coast sunset with champagne and my friends is life affirming.
A dear friend and I exchanged presents at Christmas and her gift simply took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. It was a series of three paintings representing three places on the Gulf coast where we have shared cocktails, heartaches, triumphs, tears and laughter. One is the St. Marks lighthouse were we often escape for an afternoon of beer and oysters. The second is a drop-dead gorgeous sunset on St. George Island where we have fled to on several occasions to escape the realities of life. And the third is of the iconic white Adirondac chairs overlooking the beach at Seaside where we make an annual pilgramage to indulge our love of the water and wine at a wine festival.
I haven't hung them yet because I haven't found the perfect place but I do know where those images will always have a home...in my soul.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Finally something to say...
It's been quite a while since I've posted on here for no other reason except I didn't have much to say. Life became very routine with the usual ups and downs along the way. Workdays, weekends and holidays came and went. I've spent some wonderful time with my family and friends and of course with that rotten dog of mine. Major decisions were made and simple plans were executed. There's been laughter and there's been tears...in other words...life happened.
And yes, I let myself get caught up in it more than once. Thankfully, I've got the good sense that my momma gave me and didn't get all wrapped up in myself (at least not very often...). A few weeks ago I attended the funeral of a woman I never met and even though I didn't know her it just affirmed my dedication to live a life well-lived. And in those same weeks I've smelled the head of a newborn baby and was yet again overwhelmed by the sheer hope that new life holds. I truly relished seeing both ends of the spectrum especially as the cold days of winter faded away and the newness of spring descended.
Some might say I'm being melancholy or reflective. But I know I'm simply embracing some of the decisions I've made in the last few months...both big and small. I guess all of this is to say that I'm content. And really, what more could any of us ask for?
I promise to post more and future posts won't be so serious. Unfortunately, I can't promise you that there won't be pictures of that rotten dog mentioned above. ;-)
C.
And yes, I let myself get caught up in it more than once. Thankfully, I've got the good sense that my momma gave me and didn't get all wrapped up in myself (at least not very often...). A few weeks ago I attended the funeral of a woman I never met and even though I didn't know her it just affirmed my dedication to live a life well-lived. And in those same weeks I've smelled the head of a newborn baby and was yet again overwhelmed by the sheer hope that new life holds. I truly relished seeing both ends of the spectrum especially as the cold days of winter faded away and the newness of spring descended.
Some might say I'm being melancholy or reflective. But I know I'm simply embracing some of the decisions I've made in the last few months...both big and small. I guess all of this is to say that I'm content. And really, what more could any of us ask for?
I promise to post more and future posts won't be so serious. Unfortunately, I can't promise you that there won't be pictures of that rotten dog mentioned above. ;-)
C.
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