Diane and I spent more time in Florida than we really wanted to. We were hoping to be heading back to Galax and DCMR by the first of April, but the weather up in the mountains was not looking very attractive. There was snow on the ground actually and very cold. Our trip home would have to wait for a few more weeks.
Just a few feet from the patio, in the middle of the grass is a patch of pretty, white crocuses. They get stepped on, urinated on by the dogs in the park, including ours, and moved down by the landscapers.
They keep coming back. Just a few days after these resilient flowers are done in by whatever means, they reappear. First you see a bit of green coming up from the earth, then a bud forms and then low and behold a beautiful start shaped flower.
Let me tell you all something. I gave this rally a lot of thought about how we could make it special. I really wanted all our friends who attended to have more than a good time. I wanted them to feel something while there. I wanted them to feel close to their other members. I intended for this rally to use the Christmas season and the It’s a Wonderful Life story to reinforce the need for friends and family.
Diane and I have a saying that started after our grand boys came along. We used it on them (and they would use it back if necessary) if one of them or I (Diane has complaints but never whines about anything) mumbled and groused about something.
Yesterday I steam cleaned our Motorhome carpet(s). Today I needed to return the steam cleaner. When I went to the car I discovered that the passenger side floor was soaked from the previous nights rain AGAIN. Sometimes problems come back and once again you find yourself in a not so pleasant situation. Seems to me that in the not too distant pass I wrote something about this …and some other things as well. Might as well repost them all.
Some of my dear readers and friends have heard or read this story before. However, many people keep asking me about it. Its short, not so sweet, but mildly amusing in a "can't believe that happened" sort of way.
When I was young My Uncle Jonah taught me about raising apples, tobacco, peaches, grooming horses and the danger of electric fences. He tried, unsuccessfully, to teach me how to milk a cow. He gave Diane and I our very first Christmas Tree. My aunt Helen, Jonah’s wife, and Diane like each other very much.
All the members of the Parker family are very special to me. Which brings me to my Aunt Hazel.
For most of the monthof February the three of us were parked on a live oak covered lot at Sunshine RV Resort, an Encore Park in Vero Beach. We choose to stay there because we wanted to see our daughter Jeri race in the Publix Florida Half-Marathon in Melbourne.
2017 has been a very busy year, at least for the first three months. The Fourth one has been wet, very wet, but more about that later. The first one was good. Diane and I are finding out that retirement and being Snowbirds ain't bad, ain't bad at all.
A couple of days ago, I started to clean old document files off my laptop. For a computer geek like myself, this is a bit like cleaning out my closet. I may not need a certain shirt, it has a stain, or it doesn’t fit, it needs to go, but I still want to hang on to it.
For the last six years on this date I have re-read and re-posted something I wrote to the grandson I never met. His name is Daniel and he lived for one day. His mother, father, and grandmother all held him as he died. I was not there.
I am not sure if taking pictures of a Great Horned Owl nesting in a large live oak over our coach made me think of this old FMCA blog entry or not, but if it did then that is okay. I wrote it not long after we lost our grandson.
The movie “It’s a Wonderful Life” starts with snow falling over Bedford Falls, and the sound of people engaged in fervent prayer. These prayers to God in Heaven are coming from many of George Bailey’s friends and almost all of his family.
I was in a panic condition….my head was buried in one of my wardrobe drawers looking desperately for my wallet, which of course, contained all my credit cards, driver's license and other important pieces of plastic.
Diane and I have had a very busy week (on top of a very intense year so far), a lot of good things have happened and a couple of crappy things as well...you will get the change to read about it ALL soon, until then I have a couple of interesting (I think so anyway) stories that I have copied from my FMCA blog archive.Here is the first one.
We woke up at our usual time, around seven thirty. Our Catamaran swim and snorkel, or snorkel and swim, was not until ten thirty, so we chatted for awhile, about an almost incident from the night before. You have heard the saying that it is a small world. Well the world is small, even on the world’s largest cruise ship.
At seven forty five the phone rang. I answered and it was the spa giving us our wake up call in time for Diane to keep her appointment. She was having the seaweed wrap and deep tissue massage. I envied her. I was going to be spending the morning without her.
Another morning of delight began, another morning with no alarm clocks, no Katie Couric, no disturbing pager calls. Today is going to be a great day; a day of nothing to do and happy to do it. I awoke slowly, very slowly, and took a look out the open balcony door. I could see the village of Labadee.
“I want to go to the Windjammer! I’m hungry!” I did not voice these thoughts out loud. Diane was on the balcony talking to Christine on her cell phone. “We are on board. Did not take too long to check in, the cabin is the same as last year, etc, etc.”
Diane put on white Capri pants with a black tank top and I put on white shorts and a black rayon Liz Claiborne for men tee shirt. For some reason in our old age Diane and I seem to dress in like colors a lot. We don’t plan it that way, not all the time. One of the benefits is, if we become separated while shopping or something, I can remember what she is wearing by looking at me and then find her.
Just after we placed our orders, I reached inside my camera bag, which I carry just about everywhere, and removed a square, aluminum foil wrapped package. It had a thick greenish cloth ribbon tied around it. I slid it across the table to Dad. He looked at it for a second or two.
“What is this? A block of chocolate?” He asked with a smile.
Diane and I are living full time in our Motor Home. It did not happen the way we planned it or hoped it would...the transition from part time to full time has happened but it was rough.
I wrote a bit about stumbling towards full time awhile back, stumbling certainly was the right choice of word. I have a clue for what it is like now! The questions I asked myself all now have been answered.
This subject pops up every now and then in the Internet forums where I hang about on a regular basis. It may be a post titled "Is your Class A a Money pit?" or "A motor home costs a whole lot more than you think it does!"
When did it start? When did the idea of being part of the motorhoming community first start to grow inside our brains? When did the idea first hit any of us, including Kay Toolson or John Crean, who founded Fleetwood, or Warren Buffet, the owner of Forrest River?
All of us have our own story about how we ended up owning a motorhome company or, like most of us, just owning a motorhome.
In late November of 1990 I received my December issue of Reader's Digest. I read all the humorous parts of the magazine, and one cover story and then promptly stuck it on a shelf with all the other issues that I still had in my possession.
I have watched the movie hundreds of times. I own both he black and white and colorized versions of the movie. I know each and every line by heart. I can watch the whole film in my head. It still chokes me up.
I was over the ocean. I moved out from the blackness I was in, to a stadium of stars, a carpet of luminous blue below me. Off in the distance I could see the horizon and perched on it a moving light. I drifted toward it or should I say I was moved toward it, the sea wind blowing gently around me. The lights came closer and closer and then I saw that it was a ship. Is it?....Is it?....It is! The Voyager of the Seas!
I love puns and one liners. I love blurting them out...regardless of those in hearing range around me want to hear them or not. I think having an appreciation for one liners and puns is a sign of an intelligent mind...don't you agree?
Nickolas, the family pupster here! I asked Dad if he would let me post again. Last time, I hijacked his blog and posted on the sly. This time he said okay. I wanted to leave him and Mom a note. They may need what I write here one day.
I went into the waiting room and had a good cry. My wife's sister held me tight and she said, "It's all right. We don't understand, but we love ya and we'll see you through it and it will all be all right......"
We all have life defining moments, a moment that changes us and helps to make us who we are.. It may be for good, or for bad. We said yes to something when we should have said no. We stopped when we should have gone. We sat when we should have gotten up. Sometimes we run away from them. This is about one of those moments that happened to me. It was a moment in time when I got up. You may choose not to believe what you read here, that is up to you. I will tell you this. It happened just the way I have written it.
One of the volumes in my Time Life library of photography is called The Great Themes. These photography themes include The Human Condition (life as the camera sees it) War, Nature, Portraits, The Nude, and finally Still Life.
To quote Sony.com “Every Lens tells a story!” That is not true. Not completely anyway. A lens does no good unless it is attached to a camera, and the camera is only as good as the eye looking through it.
I have been a part time (random) blogger at FMCA.com since 2009. This is a slightly revised version of my very first post there. I am posting it here at the suggestion of my daughter Jeri, who wanted to read more about her Mom and Dad's life, as well as look at pretty pictures.
Well Jeri, your wish is now granted. This is the first of what is sure to be more "reposts" of my stories, jokes and who knows what.
I really enjoy photography. It is the art of capturing a moment in time. Like any art form it is subjective and therefore what constitutes a good picture is really a matter of opinion. I learned that really fast from the people judging the very first contest I entered. What I thought were my best pictures received no mention and one that I entered as a lark in the still life category, almost took best in show.