SWFLA Recap part 1.

I finally feel as if I've stopped moving. I'm ready to start the full fledged trip review, which is filled with personal ponderings and complaints about traffic. This entry will take you from Friday to Tuesday, and will bore you to tears -- I promise.

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Friday
We left at about 10am.

I still to this moment have no idea why we weren't fully ready to go the minute we rolled out of bed. I felt prepared. I really did. But. Getting up early and getting out the door early are not always things that go hand in hand. Suffice to say, the road welcomed us a lot later than we thought we'd meet her... and she welcomed us well. No one else was out there. We blasted through Mass, CT, NY and NJ at record speeds.

We hit Delaware and all hell broke loose. We needed gas, and got off the highway to get some, but ended up driving all over the Christiana Mall area looking for the gas station that was listed on the blue highway side of the road signs. We finally found a WaWa, a million miles away from where we wanted to be, and got back to 95 after about an hour of flittering around, trapped in horrible traffic in the middle of the day. Meh!

Getting back on the highway and going about 20 feet, there was a service area in the center of the interstate. Had we just stayed on the highway... but. Whatever. I know now that getting off I-95 at exit 4 is a bad idea, if you are in Delaware.

Delaware should take all of 10 minutes to go across. Jeesh.

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We trucked onward down to Baltimore. The Key Bridge, the beautiful view over to the city and Inner Harbor at sunset. It was lovely.

Then we listened to the XM satellite radio traffic report for DC and found out that we were doomed. So we sought an alternate route. We went down to Annapolis. We went over on 50 to head west. We got on Rte 301.

Big. Huge. Mistake. I think that if we just got on the belt way, or the X95 whatever the route is that we would have gotten on to, eventually traffic would have eased up. But no. We got on 301.

And it took for friggin' EVAH to get back to 95 south. Gah. Never making that mistake again. There had been some recent bad weather, and all around us were downed trees, light crews, cable crews, more light crews, tree removing crews... stoplight after stoplight. Jebus.

95 appeared on the horizon, and we beat feet to Rocky Mount, NC, where we spent the night.

It was quite the travel day as there were a million, bazillion people going to Daytona for the 500. Totally forgot that was going on this weekend. No wonder all the RVs with huge trailers attached and Race Fan Themed Stickers were surrounding our little Subaru. Jeesh.

So all of us got a good night's sleep. Well deserved.

Saturday
Up around 8:30. I think in my mind I wanted to be up and out the door at 8:30. But we slept later than I thought we would. No worries. It's all good. We made the obligatory stop at South Of The Border once we crossed into South Carolina into Hamer.

Jess had been there once, when she was about 4, I think. Geoff's never been to South Carolina. His furthest trip south took him to Cape Hatteras in 2005. So this was new to him, and a refresher to Jess.

Both of them were truly confused as to why there was a giant Sombrero and huge crazy Mexican Hatted Pedro Dudes all around. But they enjoyed it and hammed it up for my blog-terrorism photo taking.

Thanks for playing along, kiddies.

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We continued our trek southward and got into Florida knowing we still had like 6 hours to go to get to our destination.

We got down to the Punta Gorda area around 11pm, and I whipped out the mapquest directions, which sent us into Cape Coral along Burnt Shore, which is totally under populated and very very rural and dark. Dark for miles and miles, with tiny little lights in the distance.

I wondered what I was getting us into by getting us this house here for the week. Was our house going to be in a desolate spot like this, a million miles from nowhere?

My fears were unfounded, and we pulled up to our destination. A cute little house in a cute little gated community. Huzzah. Finally. It was very late. We were very tired.

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Arriving at a house very late at night and not having the opportunity to really get to look things over is a surreal experience.

We found the house was sparsely but acceptably outfitted and decorated, furnished comfortably enough for us with two large overstuffed chairs and a comfy couch in the livingroom. There was a well appointed kitchen, two bathrooms, guest bedroom with two twin beds and a master bedroom with a full sized bed. Just right.

Jess decided she was too tall for the twin bed and slept on the futon in the livingroom. We drank a beer (the homeowner, my friend, has a neighbor who watches the house for her and he put some basics in the fridge for us, knowing we'd be arriving very late. Beer was part of the package. Hurray!)

We went to bed. We slept very, very well.

Sunday
If going to sleep in a house that you've not had the opportunity to really explore is surreal, waking up in a strange house that you've not had the opportunity to really explore is doubly so. Per usual, Geoff was up first, but slept far later than I thought he would.

I heard him poking round and checking things out, it was fun listening to him explore the place. Eventually Doug and I got up, and got the coffee going, and started looking at the collection of maps and brochures laid out for us on the coffee table. My friend's neighbor, the one who bought us milk, coffee and beer, came over to offer to show us around. He was sweet, but we knew he'd slow us down. We asked for basic guidance on good things to go see and he advised willingly. It was a lovely visit.

We hit the road about noon and went over to Pine Island. We had a gorgeous and delicious lunch at the Sandy Hook, and soaked in the first real warm sunshine we'd felt in months... even though it was only about 60 degrees.

60 degrees is a lot more than 20. And it was a wonderful thing.

Pine Island was interesting and pretty, but kind of frustrating. There was nowhere really to park to go LOOK at the Gulf. All the parking up at the north end of the island in Bokeelia was resident only or restricted to patrons of restaurants and whatnot. So we bailed from there and went down to Sanibel Island.

Toll bridges to get off of Cape Coral and onto Sanibel welcomed us. And we fed the meter and paid to park once we got to our destination at the end of the island. We went to the lighthouse and enjoyed walking on the beach, enjoyed some dolphins surfacing and blowing in the water, enjoyed just being out even if it was chilly.

There were tons of people, shelling and walking and wading in the water. All of us pale little snowbirds liberating our feet in the soft white sand and squinting up towards the glowing orb of sun above us. We watched as someone threw food up to seagulls in the air so a dozen photographers with big zoomy lenses could stand right underneath the feeding frenzy and take photos of the birds above them. I took photos of the photographers, and wondered if a gull would poop on one.

Gravity can be such a bitch.

We left Sanibel and drove out west to Captiva, why not. We're here. When we got to the end, the wind was vicious and sharp, and the sand was like tiny little bullets against our faces. The beach was much nicer than the lighthouse at Sanibel, but man... painful. We didn't stay long. We bailed and got back in the car.

It was also about 50 degrees now, and even though 50 is warmer than 20, it still isn't warm enough to go standing around outside on a sand-pelty beach.

We headed home, watching the sun go down over the gulf as we departed. Sat in traffic for an hour in Ft. Meyers just trying to get to the causeway to take us back to Cape Coral. Sunset was lovely. Traffic was not. It was frustrating and annoying. And I think it is all because of the toll booths. But that is just my opinion.

And while on the subject of my opinion, I think Sanibel and Captiva are just plain overrated. I don't shop. I don't care about special Sanibel Diamonds and fancy clothes stores and spas and facials and deep tissue massage and really expensive coffee shops.

I just wanted to park and walk on the beach, and had to pay to do that. Twice. And pay to get over there.

Pfth. Lame.

I think if one is staying there and enjoys little bike rides along the main drag and out to Captiva and whatnot it would be nice. But for a day visit, I just kind of felt 'meh' about the experience. Later in the week, I'd find my nirvana location... but for me... not sure if it is the same for you... Sanibel and Captiva aren't places I care to visit again.

We finally arrived home. Pizza, beer and wings for dinner. Yum. Sleep. Wonderful. Yay.

Monday
Slept in, got up, got in car. Went to the Naples Zoo. It took forever and a day to get there. Middle of the day, what the heck is up with all these people driving all over the place for crikey chrissake!

I've been in traffic before. I've been trapped in traffic, stuck in traffic, doomed to die in traffic. This was worse. Honestly. It took forever to get off of Cape Coral and across Ft. Meyers to the east to get on 75. Once on the highway, it was smooth sailing. Off the highway and it was a parking lot all the way to the zoo. I just don't get it. Don't people have JOBS around here? They all had Florida plates. There were few Outta Townahs like us around... and it was the middle of the day and insane.

gah.

Well, we got to the zoo and found out this is where all the Outta Townahs already were. The parking areas were all packed. The line was out the door and around the parking lot.

Luckily this zoo has a clue and sends people out to the line with animals to mingle with the kiddies and keep them entertained. Thumbs up on that front.

It was nice and warm and sunny, but still "too cold for the handlers to feed the alligators" for some reason. As I mentioned, the place was mobbed. We didn't get to take the ride on the Monkey Island boat the way Doug wanted to, but that didn't stop us from eyeballing the monkeys and enjoying all the other animals. Doug was particularly taken with the Hyena. I was particularly taken with the Lions. They were just gorgeous.

We left the zoo and decided to take a coastal route up instead of fighting the traffic to get back over the east and to I-75.

We ended up in Bonita Beach.

For as overrated and overcrowded as I found Sanibel and Captiva, and for as parking-deprived as I found Pine Island, Bonita Beach made up for it with free parking and tons of it in these little pull-outs next to the beach on Hickory Drive.

We got out and walked for miles (it seemed) enjoying stalking the gulls and wading up to our knees in the warm water. The sun was hot and welcoming, the shells plentiful, the beach lined with cute little cottages and huge mansions that evoked memories of the Outer Banks for me. Only with views to the South of Naples, and views to the North of Ft. Meyers.

This was my nirvana spot.

I think if I go back to SW Florida, as much as I loved having the free house in Cape Coral, THIS is where I'm staying. I'm renting a tiny cottage. I'm walking this beach three times a day. I'm sitting in a lounge chair with a good book and a beer at 11am. I'm here. This is it.

It was, for me, bliss.

I forget what we ate for dinner. I think it may have been pizza, beer and wings but without the wings. Slept like the dead, had sand between my toes when I woke up the next morning. And a smile on my face.

Tuesday
This was the day we should have gotten up much much earlier to get things done. As was, we were out the door at 10, but it would have been nicer to have more time where we were headed.

Doug has told me several times that he had two wishes in life. One was to ride an airboat in the Everglades. The other was to shoot a fire extinguisher at an actual fire. He got to do the latter. He needed to do the former.

So we went down 75 all the way the heck down there to Everglades City, had lunch, and got on our airboat ride piloted (captained?) by Captain Blaine. Complete with pelicans that went with us and terrorized my children to my delight.

It was lots of fun. But we saw no gators (such the drag), and this tour didn't go through a huge field of swamp grass the way I envisioned it would. Doug had a great time, and having one of his boyhood dreams fulfilled was really fun for him.

As you can see, Jessica is afraid of Pelicans.

We drove down to Chokoloskee to see what there was to see. Again, Doug had told me that many a day in his boyhood years he spent studying atlases and maps and looked at that island and wondered what was going on there.

The answer is nothing. It was kind of a let down. There was nowhere to park really, and it is mostly residential. But there was a glimmer of hope of interestingness. We had seen signs the whole way down Rte 29 about the Smallwood's Store so we were looking forward to checking it out after finding there wasn't much for us to check out otherwise.

So we drove there, with great anticipation.

Problem is, it is only open May to November. We stood there feeling almost like the Griswolds in "Vacation" standing at Wally World's locked gates. Finding the destination closed when you've been looking at signs for a few hours is such a buzzkill.

But. The sun was starting to set, so we went back up to the Gulf Coast Visitors Center of the National Parks Service HQ building in Everglades City to see if we could obtain some info and stuff (they were closed too, again -- buzzkill) and sat and watched the sunset.

While we were watching the sunset, a man came over and stood near us with his digital camcorder. He began filming the darkening light, the ocean, the birds black silhouetted against the sky, and distant islands. He panned gently, back and forth over the water and the afterglow, narrating the scene lovingly.

"And another beautiful day in Florida comes to an end in Everglades National Park with this beautiful sunset. Here you see the birds flying. Where are they going? Who knows. They do..." that kind of thing.

Jess, Doug and I sat and kind of giggled a bit and almost couldn't believe we were witnessing this... I told Jess that she should jump up and yell something wacky. Or that we should feign a fight.

But we did no such thing.

After the sunset was over, it crossed my mind that this man does this kind of thing for some sort of reason. Like I do this for some sort of reason. Or I maintain my flickr sets for some sort of reason.

He makes his little movies, maybe for his grandkids or something. And when he dies, perhaps this is all they'll have of him.

Maybe they hate it and he doesn't know. Gah, here's another video of one of Grampa's vacations... they groan to themselves as he fires up the videos to show them. Just like when people whipped out their slide shows of their vacations back in the 70s. It is the modern equivalent.

Maybe he keeps them to himself, and they don't know he makes these movies. When he dies they'll find a box, or videos on his PC or something. They'll watch them and remember grandpa being such a big goofball. Maybe they'll cherish them, or perhaps they'll trash them and just not care.

I felt like I was going to cry as I kind of built this little mystery in my mind of this person and why he was narrating the movie the way he did. I wanted to go back and ask him. I really did. I wanted to know who the movies were for, the movies that he made. How many years of them did he have.

I am not sure what stopped me. Because you know how easy it is for me to walk up to complete strangers and open conversations like this. Hell, I do it here all the time. I do it in the grocery store. I walk up to people taking pictures of their friends and offer to take the camera so they can have a shot of all of them together in front of the giant Pedro statue at South of the Border. That very same day, I walked up to two older, almost matronly British women sitting on a bench in the park watching the sunset and offered to take their picture. They wrapped their arms around one another and one thanked me saying "we have so few pictures of the two of us together, it is usually one or the other in the shot... so thank you so much for doing that!"

I do things like this. I don't fear the stranger, or the answer, or the asking of the question. This time, I kind of did. I wanted to hold my little mini-mystery and not know... almost as much as I did want to know.

We started back to the car and I listened to Jess continue to make fun of him, narrating our walk to the Subaru just as he narrated his film. I listened to Doug talk about how guys like him end up in a nursing home and the family doesn't WANT the videos that he made on his vacation to Florida years and years and years ago. And that is just the sad truth in the end.

Then I really did cry.

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Anyway -- my big regret this day is that we didn't get an earlier start. I would have liked to have gone back up to 41 and down to Loop Road through Chatham and Pinecrest and get a good look at the rest of the National Park where one can drive (the bulk of it is only accessible by water, by kayak or whathaveyou). Perhaps we should have planned it better and stayed the night down this end of things, to spend the following day exploring either by boat or by road.

Regardless, it was a good day, filled with fun, gator bites, conch fritters, scary pelicans and mysterious little old videotaping men. A day I won't soon forget.

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Okay -- on that note, I'll stop for tonight. It's getting late, and I have laundry to finish. And you are bored. I know you are.

Coming up next, I get sunburned and we go to Busch Gardens.

Wherein I Still Feel Like I'm In A Moving Car

"You've Never Sausage A Place. You're Always A Weiner with Pedro!"
-Billboard for South of the Border

Right. Hello. Nice to see you. We got home this afternoon, round 6pm-ish. Relieved the dog sitter. Spent a good hour with three dogs who literally were about to explode with joy. If you've ever had a dog, you know what that looks like.

I can't fall asleep, because I feel like I'm still in a moving car. So I thought I'd check in quickly and allow you to parouse the full photo gallery of shots in flickr. I haven't added descriptions or further detail to a lot of them, but, they're up there and you can go witness the joy that was our trip.

Click here to go see.
You know you want to.

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A quick rundown of what we did, with further details to come:

Friday - departed much later than anticipated. Made it to Rocky Mount NC and got a hotel room. Slept deeply.

Saturday - drove the rest of the way to Cape Coral with minimal stoppage. One such stop was at South Of The Border. Nuff said.

Sunday - got up after sleeping deeply. Florida was freaking freezing cold, but that didn't stop these Yankees from hitting the beach. Along with a million other Yankee snowbird visitors. We witnessed natives in wool hats, mittens, and parkas. It was 50 degrees. We laughed. Visited Sanibel and Captiva.

Monday - Naples Zoo and Bonita Beach. Sat in more traffic than I've ever sat in during my entire life. More on that later.

Tuesday - Everglades City and an airboat ride. Woot! Tons of fun. Ate alligator bites and Conch Fritters. My daughter got frightened by a pelican, and it was the funniest thing I've ever seen.

Wednesday - Kicked it by the pool. Geoff swam like mad. I got sunburn. Good times. And yes -- I did use sunscreen. I'm not that big of a dumbass. Went to the Planetarium/Nature Center in Ft. Meyers. Sat in more traffic.

Thursday - Busch Gardens. Nuff said.

Friday - Kicked it by the pool. Swam like mad. Did laundry.

Saturday - Up before God, cleaned house, packed car, hit the road. Made it all the way to Baltimore by Midnight. Would have made it to NJ if we hadn't stopped for dinner in VA. Will never stop in that particular town again. More on that later.

Sunday (today) - slept later than intended but really needed it. Raced the killer death storm that ate Washington DC alive (according to the news this evening. whatever) up the coast and got home and .... well. Uploaded pictures to flickr.

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I also managed to get a better Wisconsin plate for my licenseplate bingo collection. And... I got Nebraska and Arkansas. And I got Manitoba.

Now I believe the only plate I am missing is Idaho. And Washington DC and the US Government plate. Those are extra. I saw plenty of those two in the DC metro area yesterday and today, but the batteries in my camera had died and my cell wasn't making good captures at 90 mph up the highway. So I'll get those two eventually. Probably before I get Idaho. I was stoked to get Nebraska.

Doug invented a new game for licenseplate bingo. Florida has a bazillion tags that you can choose from for your car (see this PDF document for all the different types). In keeping constant look out for me for Idaho, he said that it would be fun to play licenseplate bingo with just Florida Tags.

So.

We started.

I've set up a flickr set for Florida tags, and a flickr pool so others can play along. Because... I only have about 20 shots. Problem is, by the time Doug suggested we do this, the week was almost over.

I got several shots, but missed dozens of good ones that should be in the collection. Poop. Now that I'm up here in MA and I only got about a dozen of the possible bazillion plates, I'll want Florida residents or visitors to join in on the fun. Heh. Debby -- this means YOU!

Alright. I'm off to bed now. Still feel like I am moving so I may sleep on the futon with the puppy. I missed her.

Snowblower and a trip to Saturn

"Now, Cupid don't draw back your bow, Sam Cooke didn't know what I know,
I'll never be your valentine, The sleepwalker in me
and God only knows that I've tried."
-The Wallflowers

Do you have your bread, batteries, eggs and milk? Is your arsenal stocked with weapons of mass destruction so you can fend off thugs and interlopers who impinge upon your stash? They did not plan for the storm. They didn't take the doomsayers seriously. But you did! No category four kill-storm is going to take your life! No effin' way, baby.

Because you know that there will never be a cow milked ever again, or bread levened and baked, or eggs harvested from the warm nests under plump chickens, you are prepared.

Your fridge is stocked with precious Milk and Eggs. Your pantry is full of Bread. You have Beer. You have batteries. You will survive. The other jokers? Tell them to take their complaints to Darwin.

(long time readers saw that whole bit above coming. You all know how I feel about the media frenzy that is storm reporting. I hope that you're all finding me somewhat entertaining this morning).

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The category four death storm slipped in quietly sometime after midnight when I went to bed (Damn you Futurama for being funny and keeping me up!) I woke up this morning to Geoff squealing with delight when he saw our school district on the crawler at the bottom of the news screen.

There isn't a ton of snow -- but it is coming down really fast and the flakes are tiny. Which if memory serves me correctly means that this is not the end of things. The end is when the flakes get huge, like your head. The flakes are the ones you like to catch on your tongue and have dance on your eyelashes. These aren't flakes any more than they are water pellets on a mission.

On the news they are saying that a lot of this will get washed away, and then tonight it will ice over and be insanely slippery.

My world will look like a giant glazed doughnut.

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We bought a snow blower (I call it a snow thrower, but my family thinks I'm a dingus for calling it that so I will call it snow blower hithertoforth) on Monday night.

After Geoff's class presentation, we went up to Sam's Club, plopped down the credit card and picked up a monstrous beast. It is huge. Far larger than I imagined. The snow eating portion of the machine is as wide as the back of the inside of my Subaru Outback. We know that because we lifted it up into the back of the Outback to bring it home.

It fit in perfectly width wise--but there was one problem. The snow shooter portion of the machine, you know -- the part that blasts the snow to other parts of the neighborhood and thus gets it out of your way... the part that rotates when you crank the doo-hickey so you can shoot the snow hither and yon. Yeah. That part. Well. That part was a fraction of an inch too tall to fit inside the hatchback. So we were faced with a crisis.

Doug tried to remove it. We didn't have any tools. He tried to remove the entire tube apparatus from the body of the beast, but again -- no tools. And, it is quite an intricate piece of machinery. I started to fear that he'd bust it in his efforts... so I suggested that we bring it back inside and leave it overnight.

Good thing I did suggest that because it was 8:26 and the store closed at 8:30. They gladly let us keep it there overnight. And then we got back into the car, feeling slightly defeated.

I found myself missing my pickup truck with a white-hot burning passion. The Quimby Mobile would have easily handled that snow thrower, I mean, snow blower, and maybe three others. It was so mighty. The Subaru may get twice the gas mileage that the truck got, but damn if there aren't times when you just need the mother humpin' behemoth of a pick-up. And I sat there in the parking lot regretting our decision to trade him in. We should have kept him just to have him. Doug said no... why pay for insurance and excise tax and what not. I said ... but we NEEEEEEEEED a truck at least once a month. It would be worth it.

We cut our car payments in half by trading it in... which is good. But it is also bad. Don't get me wrong--I love my Subaru. It kicks major ass. But when I have to transport three dogs and some camping gear -- it isn't going to be fun. And Monday night I longed for the beast in all his glory.

Luckily, My Girl C has a big huge giant pickup truck and was free to give us a hand last night. *Doffs cap to C with great thanks and love.

The snow blower is in my garage now. Waiting. And if the forecasting and prognostication is correct, we may not need it at all in the end. And we may not need it at all between now and December 2007.

But. We have it. It is here. It is in the garage. And it waits to do its thing.

I mentioned that Geoff has a presentation on Monday night. The fourth grade does something called Alien Fair every year. Basically, they break up into teams and research a planet. They then become residents of the planet, and emissaries to prospective tourists in kind of a tourist board sort of presentation. They dress up and try to convince you to come visit their planets. They tell hopeful vacationers what the weather is like on their planet, what the history is, what the geology is all about, and explain what kind of "adaptations" humans may have to use to survive on the planet and enjoy their vacation.

It is really cute, and the kids did a great job. Geoff and two buddies got Saturn, and Geoff designed the costumes. The boys on his team were like "That's perfect... thanks for doing all the work!" and then the moms (well, one boy's mom and I) bought the stuff to make their "adaptations."

They made jet packs and wore cool red sweatshirts that they painted with pictures of Saturn and a big letter S. They wore safety cones on their heads for hats... they were a total riot.

Check it out:

	top left - Geoff's jet-pak from the back. Do not imply that I made beer funnels for my boys. Or the adults for after the presentation. top right - Geoff's teacher dressed up as an alien too. She oversees the Alien Tourism Board and I gotta say, the woman cracks me up. direct left - Geoff with his Tri-board presentation and his welcoming hand signal to the masses. Nerd.

As we drove home, he broke my heart. He was dead silent and kind of droopy. I asked him if he was tired and drained, because he's had a horrible cold for a few days.

"No. I'm just sad," was his reply. I knew exactly where he was going and could feel why he was sad. I tried to throw him a bone...

"Why are you sad buddy -- Alien Night was a blast. It was so much fun, and you will have so many great memories of tonight," I tried to encourage him.

"I'm sad because it is over," he softly answered. "I waited all year for this. I worked so hard, and looked forward to it so much, and just like that... it is done and over," he sighed and actually I thought he was going to cry. Not cry like a baby or whine like a jerk. But honestly he was feeling so deeply sad about the loss of something being over that he'd shed tears about it. Which is rare for Geoff.

"I wish every day was alien fair. I can't believe it is done and I have nothing to look forward to for the rest of the year."

He's right. There is nothing to look forward to for the rest of the year except the year ending. I had nothing to give him for encouragement.

I had nothing to offer him to salve the sad.

"I can print out some pictures of you in your suit if you like. With your friends. I can put them in little frames and you can have those to look at on your shelf," I offered. "Would that make you feel a little better?"

He nodded. So I will do that for him. At least, it is something.

Anyway -- I need to hit the road. I have hung out here long enough. I don't like leaving the kids solo -- especially when Jess is in bed (you know when you get up at 6:30 and you are 14 you are SO going back to bed, even if you got fully dressed because you are SO smart and think they'll never EVER close school for this stupid storm). But I have a full day's work ahead -- and best get to it.

More later.

The final countdown, and Groovelily

Cue the cheesy keyboard intro to one of the 80s finest Continental Schlockrock Classics, "The Final Countdown" By the band Europe. I have, essentially, three days to get our acts fully together in order to leave on our massive road trip.

Hopefully right this second one week from now I'll be riding on a fan boat across some snake and gator infested swamp in the Everglades. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this fact as it is 21 degrees out.

Lord knows I'm stocking up on the sunscreen now. I'm quite February white. Must find my shorts, my hat, my sunglasses and my Hawaiian shirt now, get them packed and be ready for departure.

Wish me luck.

---

Before I detail the rest of the week, I wanted to tell you all about GrooveLily.

GrooveLily performed at TCAN (The Center for Arts In Natick) on Friday Night. Amy had told me they were coming to town, and this is the closest they've been geographically to me in a while, so I had to go.

In December, I didn't get my act together to coordinate a trip to Manhattan to see them do Striking 12 in their off-Broadway run. As much as I would have liked to. It just didn't happen.

I knew that Jessie would want to see them, being the little musical theatre geek that she's become. They are right up her alley. Every alley she's got. So I took her out with me.

And halfway through the show she turned to me and says "Thank you."

I knew she'd love it.

GrooveLily is a trio from NYC who are hard to label so one shouldn't even bother trying. There is pop, there is folk, there is avant-garde violin driven prog-rock insanity. There are a lot of songs about just sticking to it and trying hard and hanging in there -- and how eventually honey, it will all be okay. Just get up off the ground and go. There is a husband and wife (Brendan on keyboards, Valerie on violin) and a percussionist (Gene) and all three of them sing. So there are layered harmonies, three different lead vocalists, there is excitement, there is Shakespeare, there is optimism, there is art.

Amy refers to going to see them as "church." And I can see why. She is at once ragingly jealous of them, and deeply in love and awe and touched by them. So I'm incredibly glad I went -- and incredibly glad I brought my girl. My girl who spent 55 of my dollars buying their CDs. She owes me big.

If you get a chance to ever see them -- please do. They're doing a semi-hiatus kind of thing while Brendan and Valerie work on a project called "Sleeping Beauty Awakes" in Culver City, CA. So Annie -- You should look into this because I think you are my only LA Area reader. I think you'll like it.

Gene stays home with his new baby. And that's cool too.

It was nice meeting them in person too -- Brendan is genuinely sweet and friendly, while raging on stage in a Ben Folds kind of way behind the keys, when he's meeting fans and friends he just has this sweet little smile and glow to him. I didn't get to talk to Valerie at all -- Jess and I talked to Gene quite a bit and I think Jess really enjoyed meeting him.

I'm constantly amazed by percussionists who can sing and play at the same time. Moreso than I am for any other musicians who play and sing simultaneously. It is really cool.

Anyway. Go see them if you ever can. Promise me.

---

This past week has been filled with me putting in a little extra work at work to get ahead of the game. I want to return to my desk knowing I'm maybe only 1 week out, if not hopefully two weeks out, ahead of where I should be. It is that Sisyphus thing -- gotta push the rock up the hill. And going on vacation often means the rock rolls down on top of me, squishing all those below. The devastation left behind when I go away is often mind boggling. How I do my job by myself frightens me. If I got hit by a bus (abducted by aliens, or eaten by gators) I'm not sure what they'd do in the immediate short-term. I'm sure they'd hire a monkey to come sit and do my job. A monkey could do it, but the monkey would have to be the worlds most patient and stick-to-it-iveness filled monkey EVAH. Good luck finding that monkey.

Anyway, this monkey is looking forward to going away.

So yeah -- work has been busy. I'm making sure no one has to do my job (so they can do their jobs which keep them busy enough) in my absence.

---

I also have been working like mad on a final revision to the new Cateringman Website, which has consumed time in a good way... it is fun working with catering man, and he loves the stuff I do for him. They went to a huge Bridal Expo last week and he wanted the site ready to roll, and now he's getting all kinds of great contacts and hits through the sit so he is thrilled.

It looks good, and I'm happy with what we've done, but there is more to do.

Also, I'm having a problem implementing Paypal to run on the site. He doesn't want a shopping cart or a store front because he isn't selling product. He wants it so that people can just pay what they owe him online. So if Mary Jones owes him a 50% deposit for her wedding, she can just pay it. Or if Jon Smith owes him $400 for that cocktail party, he can pay it. And I can't find where that works so I guess I need to call Paypal and rent a clue.

I can't set it up so that he can accept donations, because he's a business and that doesn't work like that. So I'm frustrated.

Hmmmmm. Any paypal advice would be welcome. I've never used it for setting up on a webpage -- I have always just made donations to people and been done with it that way. So if you can help me, that'd be cool.

---

Geoff has a project due tomorrow and I am procrastinating making a trip out to Home Despot for the last two or three things he needs for the project. He and two other boys worked together to create space survival suit back pack things for survival on Saturn. Nice.

The kids were really clever and smart in their reasonings for what they put into their designs... and I love how they worked together. Everything is well thought out, even though they are highly fantastical.

Channeling my inner Professor Frink I say: "No one could ever survive on Saturn, with the gas and the atmosphere and the gravitational pull! Snort. Gah-hey! Glavin."

So they do their presentations tomorrow night at school. Should be fun.

---

Speaking of presentations, Jess did her very first powerpoint presentation in History class on Friday. They had to pick a subject from the 1700s or 1800s. He didn't care what they picked -- just do a powerpoint presentation.

Of course, this wasn't a history project, it was a computer skills building project. The way most educational situations have become lately. Let's work on the academics and build the secondary skills in technology so they become primary skills for the kids by the time they get out into the workforce. From my classes in Educational Technology (which, by the way, I would love to get back to if I ever have the time) it is similar to teaching a child the academics of English (primary content) while teaching them how to use a pencil or a library catalog (secondary skill content). Computers being primary out in the world, the kids need to learn how to use them if they are to succeed.

And powerpoint in business is an essential tool.

So her teacher gives them a wide open topic "Anything in the 1700s or 1800s" and my Jess chooses the treatment of mentally ill people during the 1800s.

She did tons of research and put together her outline and built her presentation. She gave her presentation, and a lot of kids in the class interrupted her with "ewwww!" and "That's so wrong!" and "Oh my God you are so sick" (for doing the topic).

Jess was pissed at them and wanted to scream in their faces:

"Sorry kiddies!!! Life isn't always puppies and kittens! This topic is a part of history, and it wasn't pretty, but it HAPPENED and I'm doing a REPORT on it. I am not sick for picking it. You're sick for being head up your ass ugly Americans who just want to focus on pretty flowers and happy crap!"

The heart of a goth girl in a Barenaked Ladies T-shirt.

Anyway -- she got a 98 on the presentation. Which is all that matters. But in the end, even her teacher thought that the topic was rather sad and dark. Part of me wants to shake him hard and just ask him what difference does it make if it is dark and sad? It happened. It's important. It was a thoughtful and deep presentation instead of what kind of bricks were used to build a certain building in Maryland. Or a big fat lie about how wonderfully our nation treated the indigenous populous during the 1800s. He should commend her -- not cringe.

Perhaps they all need holes drilled in their heads to let the pressure out.

As her mom, I'm proud of her. There is a part of me that wants her to dig into these things and learn them, read them, digest them, present them to others and say "It ain't pretty but it happened and it is true."

Be a reporter, a communicator, a witness to the history that so many people want to deny ever happened. Someone has to carry on truth.

Someone has to pick topics and historical moments and keep them alive so that they won't happen again, or so that people can learn from them.

But part of me thinks that maybe next time she should make everyone happy and write about fashion during the time of the Louisiana Purchase. That'll make people bored, but keep them quiet.

And she'll get the same grade I'm sure, but won't make anyone think for a second beyond themselves.

Alright -- I have been procrastinating so long. Must get a shower and go out and get what I need to help Geoff finish his project. I'm not sure I'll get to touch base again before we leave. So I will bid you fond adieu.

x0

Oh, you have got to be kidding

"You wait for fate to bring about the changes in life
which you should be bringing about yourself."
-Douglas Coupland, "Shampoo Planet"

In New England, we usually get snow. This year, we've gotten literally next to nothing. But a rumor has it that all this will change, right before we are slated to leave for vacation, and I am incredulous right now.

As I've mentioned, not to rub it in or anything, we're going on vacation. And yes, we are driving. We were planning on leaving Thursday afternoon. And. Well.

This was just posted by the National Weather Service in Taunton, and all I can say is they have got to be shitting me.

CONFIDENCE IS INCREASING FOR A WINTER STORM TO AFFECT SOUTHERN NEW ENGLAND ...

BASED UPON THIS TRACK...THERE IS THE POTENTIAL FOR A SIGNIFICANT ACCUMULATING SNOWFALL THROUGHOUT MOST OF SOUTHERN NEW ENGLAND BEGINNING LATE TUESDAY NIGHT AND LASTING INTO EARLY THURSDAY.

STRONG NORTH TO NORTHEAST WINDS ARE ALSO POSSIBLE ... PERHAPS GUSTING AS HIGH AS 50 MPH DURING THE HEIGHT OF THE STORM LATE WEDNESDAY AND WEDNESDAY NIGHT.

I'm sorry, what? There has been a total of less than 2 inches of snow recorded in Boston so far this year.

At our house, a little ways north and west of the city, we got about 3 inches a week ago last Friday, of which a disgusting and angry, dirty inch remains on the ground right now. That is all we have in the form of snow so far this year.

To be honest, I'm okay with that. I'm not a big fan, and I had rather gotten quite used to the no-snow situation here.

In fact, many of us were relieved to see the Groundhog shadowless this year, because it has been a non-event winter, and we're hopeful for a more fun and pretty "normal" spring (because last spring sure as hell wasn't normal in these parts). I personally was looking forward to a jumpstart of spring, just to get things looking differently around here without the difference being a thick blanket of white.

And, I'm really REALLY looking forward to vacation.

But no. Winter will make a glorious comeback. And you know that even if this storm STOPS on Thursday, that the roads will not be cleared, that they will be a humongous mess all day, probably even into Friday. Everyone around here has forgotten how to drive in snow, and we'll be killed immediately upon departure. That would be our luck. Some guy who forgot what it is like to drive in snow (or, someone from Brazil or warmer climes who has NEVER driven in snow) will crash into us and our vacation will be uber ruined.

All I can hope for is that yet again the assclowns at the National Weather Service are smoking crack, the way they usually are, and this forecast is nothing but the delusional rantings and ravings of a bunch of stoned scientists who look at maps of air all damn day.

They've been so wrong, so many times, so often... and all I can hope for is that they are so far off the mark that it isn't even funny.

If this is the one time that they start calling for a Category Four Death Storm, right as I'm supposed to be driving out of state, and it happens, I'll be pissed. They can't get anything right the whole rest of the damn year. They don't know whether it will rain or snow or how many inches of either we'll get.

So often they prognosticate the big assed storm, they get everyone all worked up in a frenzy, all the bread in New England flies off the shelves. All the milk is purchased. People run around freaking out that it is going to be the end of the world (Longtime readers of this journal know how much I enjoy watching the masses lose their shit over weather forecasts). What happens? The storm is a dud. A great, big, fat dud.

This, my friends, is my prayer -- that these dorky jerkbags with all of their equipment and weather models and NOAA water temperature and barometer reading predictions are so wrong, that they'll be apologizing on Friday morning to you on TV as I'm somewhere in North Carolina, putting the Fleece in the back of the hatchback and switching my boots to sandals.

Yes. That is my only hope.

Okay -- God? Hi. It's me. I don't phone in many favors to you on my own behalf. I'm usually always praying for sweetness and light and your divine intervention and blessing of your holy spirit onto someone else's life.

But could you cut a good friend a break? Keep the snow out to sea and send it to Canada or something. Bar Harbor. Downeast Maine. Somewhere north and east of me. And leave me, my car, my family and my vacation unencumbered.

Thy will be done, but pretty please? Can it swing to my advantage. I thank you in advance for your attention in this manner. In Jesus' name, Thanks. Amen.

(ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease...)

A day of meeting people

Friday was a day of meeting people I didn't know. Well, one of them I know in the cyber-sense, as far as a written blog can take knowledge of a person. The others are Doug's co-workers.

I'll start with Sir Sean of Seanalot. Sean and I stumbled across one another through his journal. We had written back and forth about meeting in person and finally we decided to have lunch. Because I work and he is a student, he is a little more free than I am and was able to come to Swampscott to meet me.

We had a really nice lunch and talked about life, the universe, and everything.

We talked about how we are 40 and sure don't feel it. I think he put it exactly as I had been feeling it, and I quote loosely here: "Aside from the reflection that greets me in the mirror, I don't feel like I'm 40." And indeed, aside from all my grey hair, the doubling chin, the bags under my eyes, I would swear to you I still feel like I'm 25. So we were both on the same page in regards to how we feel entering our fifth decade.

We talked about his Peace Corps experience in Russia and Anya and Nastia and Keri. We talked about belief, faith, actions being the reflection of the good in your heart, nursing... nursing... nursing. Sean will hopefully survive the next 18 months of his life in a nursing program and emerge from the opposite side a well-trained and ready for anything nurse. And I wish him well in the process.

He said he was nervous to meet me... but it didn't show. We had a wonderful talk, and a wonderful time. And need to do it again soon.

---

I worked late to make up for the (very well worth it!) long lunch. Doug and I were slated to go out with his co-workers and meet up at 8pm, but he called me at 6 as I was getting ready to go home and change, but he told me to just meet him there and that we'd have dinner first. Luckily it was a way casual place because I sure didn't feel dressed up enough to go out. I was dressed just right based on the clientele... and no one sat there saying "Oh my, she has her snow boots on." It was all good and roadhouse like in there. And the beer was cold and the food was good.

Doug's co-worker friends started showing up and we all started getting into the groove of getting to know one another. People brought their significant others. We toasted and I did the "I'll bang you later!" joke (for those of you who know, you know how funny the joke is) to the folks at the end of the table, nearly causing the spouse of Doug's coworker M to spit his Jack'nCoke across the table.

It was exceptionally funny. I felt I'd broken the ice and got my foot in with the crowd of people I didn't know.

Doug's boss is really sweet and funny and I liked her a lot. His co-worker L. is a drop-dead riot, and there's another one who lives here in our town, right by the house we looked at with the floors that all needed totally replaced. She has 2 goats as pets. And once had a potbellied pig but it destroyed her house when she was at work so she had to send it to Nevins Farm.

As the evening progressed, we found the far back corner of the restaurant had a fireplace and a couch and that's where we ended up. We laughed and joked and totally made fun of the waitress (while a very sweet and well meaning person, she was really, really, really dumb).

The reason for this get-together was that Doug's nursing home is going through some corporate changes, and a few people are not going to be carried over with the switch. Doug will be at this location, but a couple are not. So they wanted to get together for some rowdy non-nursing home fun. And a lot of rowdy non-nursing home fun was had. And I kicked him saying "why didn't we do this sooner? Why have I not met these people before? They are FUN!" It was worth the night out.

And then it snowed.

---

Saturday I got up early and bought Guster tickets for their April 20/21 shows in Boston. We're all trapped up in the Mezzanine at the Boston Opera House, but it's not bad. It isn't like we're in the far far away seats at Gillette Stadium or anything. It's the opera house -- we'll be able to see just fine. The seats are in the sixth row of the Mezz, so it isn't too bad. I am greatly looking forward to it because Evergreenstate (Sarah) is coming here all the way from Warshington State, and Skillet (cchall) is coming up from NJ. A good time is on the horizon.

All the Gusterrhoids will be there. Wheeeeeeee!

After I bought the tickets, I took the dogs for a long walk in the woods, filled with snow... Jack took himself swimming and got turned into a pupscicle. He was making tinkling noises by the time we got back to the car, and would stop on the trail to chew the ice cubes out from in between his puppy toes. It was very funny. And I tested the All Wheel Drive capabilities of my Subaru by driving through the snow in Georgetown near the trail head. And that was awesome.

---

Anyway. Today we have friends coming over to watch the Überbowl.

I'm not really sure who I am routing for.

I'd like to see Peyton Manning's team win, because I am beyond sick to death of hearing "Is it Peyton's year? Will he ever win a Super Bowl?" Because if he loses, God help us, him crying about it for the next year will be all we hear. So if they win, they'll finally shut up about it, and so will he. So part of me wants that to happen.

I don't really care that much about the Bears, although I think Brian Urlacher is one hot man. Meow. They beat the Patriots in 1986, and that still stings, but I can think of worse NFC teams up there so I'll take what I've been dished out. So part of me is okay if they win.

The father/son team of Doug and Geoff are split on who they are cheering for. Doug says he will never forgive the Bears for the Super Bowl Shuffle, so he's going to route for the Colts. Geoff hates the Colts and hates Peyton Manning and his stupid commercials being on the TV all the stupid time. He's taken the "ABC - Anyone But Cowboys" slogan to Anyone But Colts and is cheering for the Bears...

Our house should be an interesting mix of who is routing for whom. Me? I'm just looking forward to spending time with our friends and enjoying food, fellowship and monkey wine.