"Always Kiss Me Goodnight . . ."

Two Weeks Notice

After almost 6 months on the road, all of our worldly possession's, other than the massive pile I collected while traveling, were delivered onto the front porch of our newly acquired bungalow, by three fairly comical moving men, somewhere around the middle of February 2011.

Where do you start when there are hundreds of boxes piled in every direction, you still have multiple items requiring a trailer hitch to move, and a bathroom that would feel right at home somewhere between Yeehaw Junction and Holopaw, it does come to mind you just might have too much of the good stuff?

Life was supposed to get much simpler.

We are making progress, the box pile has disappeared from the front porch, the bathroom has been gutted down to a working loo only, the appliances have arrived from Sears, the kitchen's been painted in Behr Teatime, and we are still loving this old house.

There is Internet access, cell service, cable TV, and music in the house and studio, and I am still thrilled I am married to a geek, and not a plumber, although the later would come in handy on some days. We have started the process with Amerigas to bring in propane for cooking as well as on-demand hot water, we will need an electrician and a plumber, and almost another month, before things are operational in that department.

The Sebastian exposed pipe shower system in oil rubbed bronze arrived this week from Signature Hardware, as well as the fabric in Charlotte/walnut from Joann's Fabric for the bathroom shower curtain, that will hang from our newly constructed ceiling mounted copper rods. The plumber from Wm. F. McDonough Plumbing in Port Charlotte will be here this week for the pedestal sink install and a consult on the shower plumbing as well as the plumbing connections for the Noritz Tankless unit.

We acquired two garage sale light fixture's this weekend, one for the Studio, and the other will be installed in the kitchen later in the week. A 4x8 foot chalk board, a find at the Burnt Store Presbyterian Youth fund raiser, hangs above the Studio's work bench and a design for the covered blacksmith's forge are coming to fruition.

A site for the new chicken coop has been spotted under the Live Oak, and our new Silkies have been ordered from Murray McMurray Hatchery for a delivery the beginning of May. The potted herbs, I planted several months ago are producing purple Thai basil, oregano, cilantro and mint. Today we planted pineapple and Cavannah's Dwarf Banana along the driveway. We are still looking for a site for the Brown Turkey Fig, we bought from the Farmers Market in downtown Punta Gorda. . .

Who knows what the next two weeks will bring.

The Affair

We have purchased The Cleveland Avenue Bungalow, a 1927 Arts & Crafts gem in Punta Gorda, Florida. As my time in this wonderful old house grows closer, my anticipation is almost too much to contain, just ask anyone whom has asked me about the house.

When we left The Old Starkey House, I wondered if I would ever fall in love with another old structure, with it creaks, little quirks and the rich history that well within it's walls. I wondered could I love other old majestic live oaks draped in Spanish moss, great mass of ferns, and the abundant calamundruns? Could I train the jasmine covered arch, re-create the chicken coop or the Virginia creeper that covered the fences?

Over the last couple of months, we have immersed ourselves in all that is Punta Gorda, the long history of abundant fishing and wildlife, the cattle lands, and it's prize winning pineries. Eagles, osprey, otter, manatee and gators all roam the waters. The night Heron, among my favorite, fish from the water's edge. The flora, tropical and diverse, still early in the year the Florida Flame vine burns from every trellis, pole and fence post.

The natives are laid back and friendly, a resiliency, I believed enhanced by the likes of Charlie, and other great storms of the past. If you speak of recent times, it is post Charlie. The old timers rarely speak of Charlie, only how things have changed through the years.

We drive past the house almost daily, in any other community, we would be stalking, but most laugh and welcome us to the community.

I do believe this is the beginning of a long and wonderful love affair . . .

The democracy will cease to exist when you take away from those who are willing to work and give to those who would not.
Thomas Jefferson

Bob's Dream

Brother Bob awoke in the middle of the night dreaming of J.Z. bro's compass spinning round and round, he headed straight to his kitchen to write down his thoughts and try to make sense of his crazy dream, a picture of a spinning compass and the whirlwind we had been on shaped strangely enough in a "Z". I don't believe his dream is as crazy as it sounds, this year has been a zig zag in all directions as we criss crossed the south and yes that included southern Michigan.
We spent a good bit of time in South Carolina with Bob and mom, after the passing of my father and the loss of Ava. As we prepare for the celebration of Christ's birth and the promise of his resurrection, I can not help but realize as sorrow rips such a great hole in our hearts, there is then room for joy to flood in and I begin to count all of the blessings we have been gifted this year. Our time with Paul and my father, time with family and friends, and each other, Baptisms, and our new home are the really big ones, then there are the everyday blessings, too many to count. The humble gratitude and humility for all of these blessing are sometimes difficult to find, I will have to try harder in the new year.
As our compass has begun to stop spinning and clearly points south, no big brother it was not a crazy dream, it was a blessed life you dreamed about.

Merry Christmas Bob, you are truly one of God's great blessings.

Our lives are not possessions to be defended but gifts to be shared.
Henri Nouwen

Bostick Plantation

Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you are going to get, or where you will end up . . . When you are in the midst of sadness, comes happiness, maybe not in a life altering event but in a small everyday smile.
Our visit to Estell was no exception, with an invitation to visit the Bostick Plantation, off we went, a little detour led us down dirt roads with cotton growing as far as we could see, the south's first snow fall.
We arrived at the Plantation greeted by Clyde, a border collie, carrying his favorite frisbee, and his best smile, after a short break and a little frisbee throwing we were ready for our adventure.

We climbed into the front seat of a very small truck with a well loved bumper, as our wonderful guide Rodger pointed out, and headed into the 5000 acres of the Bostick Plantation. The plantation starts up on a sandy ridge and winds down to the inland back waters of the Savannah River, and is now used mainly for hunting. This beautiful place is dotted with pine and sandy bluffs, the roads are rutty and deep with dry mud, the drought has been hard on this land over summer, and the anticipation of the rainy season by our guide was evident as he continued to apologize for the rough ride.
Our tour was scheduled for noon, so as not to disturb the rhythmic schedules of the hunters that come from all over this time of year to hunt Whitetail deer and wild hog. As we rounded the first bend, a doe leaped through the woods and across the dirt road in front of us and although I have seen thousands through the years, their startled leaps still make my heart race. We continue to make our way to a lake and the half way point of our tour deep in the pine and oak of these beautiful woods, just as we arrive, a family of otters going about their daily business of snacking on fish and playing roll into the green swamp water, flocks of wood ducks flew through the cypress, and the sound of woodpeckers sounded in the background, the sight and sounds of the woods are wonderful. We folded back into our transportation and continued along the lake to an opening in the cypress where a small skiff is waiting a fisherman's next outing, and there standing at the shore was a great cypress, the width of which I have never seen, I am sure the swamps of Florida hold some of the same, but a very rare sight on my list. Our guide told us the records show this area had been clear cut for the last time in 1929, and that the cypress wad grown back from the stump.
It was headed to mid-afternoon, and a much anticipated lunch, so we folded in our truck and started back along the miles of rutted roads, and golden fields, when another young buck leaped through the tall grass, his coat shining in the sun and yet camouflaged with his surroundings, simply amazing is all I can write.

We arrived back to our much anticipated lunch, without disappointment, what a spread, our guide was sure it was Sunday, surely no other day would produce such a spread. Roasted pork, fresh stewed apples, glazed sweet potatoes, green beans, cole slaw, and a cheese souffle, all followed up by piping hot yeast rolls, I believe I ate my weight in rolls, with the best yet to come, a homemade coconut cream pie, I could not help but remember my fathers favorite, and how much he would have enjoyed this day. After our lunch we finished up our grand tour with a short drive to a 1840 beauty of a house, saved by one of Sherman's men as they marched to Atlanta. This house had been used as headquarters for a general, when one of the slaves on the property was asked who owned the home? When the name of the owner was revealed the slave was told to tell his owner the house would be spared from flames, for the owner had once played cards in the north with the general prior to the unfortunate great saddness of northern aggression. The house was truly magnificent and still being enjoyed to this day.
We headed on out after a truly wonderful day and tour back through the cotton fields by which we came, smiling from ear to ear, life is like a box of chocolates.

Our day concluded with a quick stop at the local veterinary in Hampton for three dozen fresh eggs, you have to love a small town in the south.