Pilgrim in the Trailer Park

 “It’s a hot one.” You can say that again.  Remember when the model Ts came in any color as long as it was black? Well, you can get the summer in any color as long as it’s hot. You can get extra hot, too. And if you live in Florida like me, you can’t escape it, unless you’re an air conditioning Gypsie. well then you’re missing out on all the fun! But summer fun can turn into summer heat stroke…so please drink your beverages!  I didn’t move down here because I love Florida and love summer and love the heat. Actually, I don’t know why I came here. I’m not an athlete or a beach bum: you won’t find me surfing or biking. I’m one of the those gypsies but without the ac (okay I do sleep in ac, I just don’t live in it). So I tolerate the heat and am grateful when I can break out a sweat, which is the best cooling device there is, and it’s natural and free. But if you’re like my sister, you think sweat is just plain gross. That’s too bad. Summer in Florida is not the end of the wo...

 Was I excited to come back to Florida?  Well, no. Coming back to the real world after Vacationland is so uninspiring. Like the saying, putting a brown paper bag over your head. That’s what I did.  Is it just me? Florida is the place you’re supossed  to vacation (although John swears we were never on vacation (and I did forget my bathing suit)), and not the other way around. No wonder I’m so…backwards? And maybe that’s why I’m having a hard time getting work, cause the sun makes my body think I’m retired, but my mind is, again, wheeling around the International Speedway (I knew I had a death wish).  I’m kind of in a funk, if you couldn’t tell. This is probably stuff I should write in my journal (but I want to share it with…yooou! (That’s an inside joke)). The silver lining of returning to the land of sun and sand: I found a new devotional at the thrift store. A sobriety devotional, in fact. It’s called A Woman’s Spirit. It’s a small simple book with a lot of wis...

 Well, I’m going to give this a shot and see how it goes. Or as lieutenant Dan would say, going to try out my sea legs :/  I don’t know if laughter is the best medicine, and I don’t even know how I would describe laughter (a spontaneous physical response to humor, kind of like a funny sneeze…?) but it is a silver lining in this shitty situation (life). My family hasn’t had the best luck, and if the whole ship sinks one day I will say at least we had a good laugh. My dad had a sense of humor that I can’t put into words (struggling to do that lately) but i believe it has enriched every member of my family. My dad made us laugh a lot.  My dad passed away Saturday May 16 at advent hospital in Ormond beach. Although it was slightly expected and almost unavoidable, as his health had drastically declined (he was “only” 61), this was very heartbreaking to me and I wouldn’t wish it on anybody…yet we all will lose our parents, unless we die before them, like my sister, which we sho...

  My mother told me “there is always something to write about.” She’s not a writer herself, but she encourages my writing. I think this is just so she has something to read. But really, she is a big reader. And writing and reading go hand in hand. For there to be something to read, somebody has to write. So I posit that the writers came first, as in the instance of the chicken and the egg. Books didn’t fall out of the sky (and if they did I’m sure one would hit me on the head (it would probably be War and Peace)). I invited my brother over for a kitten chow session. We put food out and wait for them to eat, kind of like kitten fishing. I thought he could get a good look at these precious things I’ve been raving about. Out of five, only two came out, and he tried to chase them down, which scared them (I think it was an irresistible impulse. I understand that). And then it rained. Chow sesh over. Sometimes people go whale watching and there are no whales. This is life.  The ...

 Most of you don’t know this about me, but out of the various jobs I’ve held (very loosely) in my life, at one time I worked at a bed and breakfast. I worked at the Inn of the Shenandoah in Luray, Virginia, my hometown. It was short lived, but it is memorable and I thought I’d write about it :) I graduated from college in the winter of 2015. I missed a semester so I had to make up for it and graduate a semester late. Whatever. My plans were just to move back home (whatever). Really I didn’t have a plan. But I wanted to get a job like asap so I wouldn’t be one of those post college sloths eating all their parents cereal. So I dressed up and walked around town with my shiny new resume, the fancy kind on thick cardstock that the career planning lady at my college made for me. I gave one to the local newspaper office, The Page News and Courier. I had good intentions.  My resume scheme wasn’t working and honestly I don’t know how many jobs I actually applied to. My dad mentioned th...

 I forgot to say please. What can I say…it’s a hot day in May. I swear I saw the car dash temp at 91, and I finally succumbed to using the AC at night. I’d say it’s critical (your prayers are needed).  But I didn’t start this post to complain about the weather. You know Florida: it’s hot, hot, hot, with some sweater weather months. For the record, I’m not used to it. I have Northern DNA, yet I don’t dig the cold. I don’t know where I belong (is there a Mediterranean climate waiting for me in heaven?). But enough of that.  There are five adorable kittens that need a home, our home in fact, but we can’t find them now since we believe the mother relocated them and is using herself and Rusty to guard them from our sticky fingers. John says there may be an ensuing custody battle (“I’d like to call Untrusty Rusty to the stand”), so we’ll need a lawyer specializing in feline affairs. I hope it won’t be drawn out. We really need those kitties, like, right now. It reminds me of a ...