All that and a bag of groceries

Literally.

Taking a break from keeping my brother's Pomeranian Princesses (yes, with a capital "P,"), we all went to Salem Methodist Church here in Havana because they had some kind of health fair. My mother was thinking she'd get her cholestral checked, but it wound up being so much more.

I tried to give blood, but found myself low again. I really got anemic in PC. Last night, I ate lentils AND red meat, then this morning have bacon biscuits (Mmmmm.....bacon!) and an iron tablet, but I was still a point low to donate.

Of course, it worked out better that way, because I totally forgot permanent eyeliner goes down as tattooing, and I've done that in the past 12 months, too.

Anyway, this little health fair had a ton of stuff, including a great massage, free pens galore and even lunch. We opted for lunch just after the shepherd's pie ran out, but I had potato soup, my father had chicken noodle soup and my mom had chili. They had at least two other things on the menu, plus sandwiches and tea. Everything had been made by the folks at church, I think. My father wound up sitting next to the person who'd made his soup

And somehow, just by timing my arrival when I did, I won a bag of groceries! It was really pretty funny. I'd thought the lady said something when I came in -- I signed in and commented I'd seen a "CC" by the line where I signed in and I thought she said something about groceries. So as we were leaving I mentioned the drawing for groceries and she said, "Oh, there's no drawing, you already won!"

They went and got this huge bag filled with stuff. I went through it when we got home. It's got potato bread, sugar-free syrup, some kind of strawberry cookie, three kinds of peas (two in bags and one in a can), peaches, yams, peanut butter, spaghetti, pickles (like a quart, seriously) and God knows what else.

So I felt we made out like bandits today.

On my two-month anniversary of being back in the States, I went to FAMU to man a PC table at an international study abroad event. It was fun, really, and time flew by. I was surprised at how many of the students had never heard of PC. I'm not sure if at that age I knew what it was, but I'd certainly heard the tagline "The toughest job you'll ever love."

Which is true. I still miss Morocco and most of the things that went with it. Noto all, but most.

In this event thing, I gave a presentation which was mostly straight off of what the PC recruiter sent me but a little of my own experience thrown in. I've learned that everyone's experience is VASTLY unique and when people ask "what's it like?" I am careful to explain that I am talking about what my experience was like and I knew people who had completely different experiences.

Still not a lot of progress in the job department, but I am keeping busy with the book. I'm also culling through boxes again in another effort to primarily downsize but also to generate a little cash. I'vecome to realize that, while I've never been a real big collector of worldly possessions and have lived well under my means at all time, I still have a lot of stuff.

So I'm trying to seriously take a look at the difference between wants and needs and just unload whatever. There's also the matter of stuff that will be needed at a later point but is really fairly easy to re-acquire at a low cost and might be better now technologically than two years ago.

(Aside: I'm still getting back into English. For some reason, that sentence was really difficult to formulate.)

Anyway, that means things like the toaster over or the microwave. They're not really too pricey in the realm of things and it's likely what I can buy now is cheaper to operate than my old stuff. Plus, if I wind up moving somewhere else I can rent a smaller truck to haul my crap and just buy similar stuff in the new city.

And no, I still have no idea where that new city might be. I've applied here in Tally, at places spotted through the U.S. especially D.C.) and a small smattering of international posts. But I still have no idea which direction I'll head. I'm certainly trying not to rush.



My week's highlight was dining with Dana and Tom (and meeting Tom) at Emeril's in Orlando. They were in the area for a little time off (as much as sports writers get; she did wind up working at least one day of spring training) and I went down Tuesday to meet them.


Zippy went along for the ride. She's kind of like Kocur in that, except she pays for gas. We got there in time to pick up the boys. I played softball with them until they ignored four warnings not to throw the bat and/or ball at each other, then I went to meet Dana.


Fortunately for me, I ran late and only wound up paying $3 to park, but I did feel bad about being late. Dana looks just the same but happier since she met Tom, who's fantastic.


We traded stories -- dog, kid, dreams, sports, sweet potato -- throughout some fantastic salmon and baconified side dishes -- then went to the NBA restaurant to watch Canada beat someone ... I forget who ... in whatever game we watched that night. I think it was Germany. Oh yeah, it was, because it led to a Uwe Krupp discussion.


Our waiter, a Flyers fan, was totally impressed we "knew" one of his favorite players (he's a Chris Pronger fan. We tipped him nicely anyway) and that random people who sat in his section on a slow night appreciated hockey. He was a nice kid.


Anyway, back on topic, which is that the photo here was shot by Tom after a wonderful meal at Emeril's and the NBACafe at CityWalk, which I never heard of until Tuesday.


I'd definitely like to go again -- Margaritaville is there -- and now I know to never go before 6.

Thank you again, Dana and Tom, for a wonderful evening.

Off again

So far, I'm pretty much heading down to Orlando every other week, and I'm keeping up the trend tomorrow.

This time I'm not babysitting but rather meeting up with Dana -- and meeting Tom. I'm heading down tomorrow, meeting her at Emeril's and then coming back Wednesday afternoon or so. Zippy's going.

My secondary task is going to be tracking down info on my little car. My temporary tag expired (wherever it landed when it flew off) and it's still not forthcoming. Seems the seller hasn't yet sent the title over to the dealership.

I've been calling the dealership -- I didn't buy the car from them, but she's a friend of the seller and we did it that way to make the paperwork easier. Well, that was the original plan and a nice thought.

I'm not sure what's up with the seller, but it's been a month so I'm getting antsy. If I don't hear back from her -- I've called and e-mailed today -- I'll swing by her house. I just hope nothing is wrong.

Meanwhile, I've had my first flat tire in the car, which was fortunate on two counts: it wasn't one of the two tires I bought last week, and it was conveniently in the driveway when it went flat. Of course, I didn't notice it until I drove to Spanish class tonight and was two houses away (these being country-mile-spaced houses).

But as soon as I pulled off -- within site of my road, even -- two nice guys named Dave and Willie stopped and, as soon as I got situated in someone's driveway, changed it maybe twice the time of a NASCAR pit crew. So that was as nice of a flat as one can get.

Riding on the donut put me late for Spanish class, but that was fine. As I forgot my license AND was driving with an illegal tag, it was in my best interest to not speed, get stopped or bring unwanted attention upon myself.

Spanish class, which I'm taking at a friend's church, is a lot of fun. I'm taking French, too, and they're both on the same day, so the command "recite the alphabet" pretty much frightens me these days. But I really am entertained by this class, although I think I am far more into it than anyone else.

Mostly, it's made up of ladies who will be making a mission trip to Guatemala, I think it is. The teacher asks a lot what we want to know and I more than anyone tend to ask questions and suggest things to say. Part of it, I am sure, is I've now taught a foreign language to Moroccan students so I kind of know what kind of lessons are needed plus since I've studied a langage and lived abroad I have an idea of what kind of things you need to know.

And they had Valentine's Day candy today. The day cannot be a failure when there's Valentine's Day candy involved, you know?

Long live Thomas Wilcox

In Havana, I've discovered a fabulous place to eat: Granny's Frying Pan.

Zippy and I went there last week and had fabulous country food. Fried chicken and catfish. Great tea, to. So we figure this is going to be a normal stop.

And today we went again. We met Marty and Anne for the lunch special. Today, that's a hamburger, fries and a bunch of tea for the bargain price of $5.

The four of us were sitting at our table in the little eating room. (At Granny's, you order at the kitchen window but go into a different room to eat. They have a TV as well as a book and magazine exchange. It's kind of like eating at your house, only someone comes around to refill your tea glass and the magazines are more recent.) There are two others tables and a bar table thing. (Not a booze bar.)

The bar de-peoplefied shortly after we got there, but the two other tables were occupied. One was a guy, maybe my age, and his little blonde boy and the other table had a couple of good ole boys there.

While we were talking at our table, Zippy said aloud she wondered if they were the guys who fixed the well yesterday. The pump gave out and this guy, based in Havana, came to temporarily fix it Saturday then brought his partner back Sunday to replace it.

I didn't know if the guys at the table were the same ones, s Zippy just asked them. They were not. In fact, I realized that the one guy hadn't been able to work the remote control, so it's not likely he'd have been replacing a well pump, you know?

But he thought Zippy looked familar, too, and upon revealing the name "Thomas Wilcox," they discovered indeed, he had been in Zippy's class back when she taught at Gadsden.

So that led to much discussion on how she used to "whup his butt" and what he was doing now, since it wasn't repairing wells. He, coincidentally, had gone to school with the daughter of one of the other people at the table and, as a Calvary resident, knew a friend of the other person.

And the guy at the other table, who had the little boy, was also in there somewhere, since he also lived in Calvary, knew the non-well guys and somehow knew someone related someone else at the table.

Zippy, of course, is hooting and hollering this whole time. She told this 46-year-old man, whom she taught as a kid, that she was losing her mind but still playing softball.

He was clearly taken aback at her wild woman-ness, especially when she got up and Zumba'd for him, bumping hips.

I swear I do not know what to do with this woman. She is insane, technically if not clinically. And I'm sure it's in the DNA. If it's not my problem now it will be later.

And looking after this woman is a full-time job.

She bumped hips with her student, just laughing all the time.

I was mortified. So was Thomas Wilcox.

3-2-1 ... and we have liftoff

After a false start yesterday, I got to witness the space shuttle launch early this morning.

Yesterday, we'd gotten up at 1:15 and headed out to the space center to watch it, only to be clouded out. This morning, since the boys had school, we just woke up at 4 a.m. and watched it on TV until about a minute remaining, then we ran outside.

Since you have to have a cameraworth thousands of bucks to get really good pictures, I made do with what I could. Trust me, these are of the shuttle.

We had a streetlight nearby and I couldn't really see where it split, but I did see a few "ashes" coming off the cigarette-shapped shuttle. I don't think it showed on the little video.

So it's cool I got to see the last night launch. I'm glad Chris humored me.

Today Zippy and I will head back to Havana.

We've had fun with the boys, as usual. They had a bowling party for Jorden/Jordan/Jordon and Logan andI've informed Laurie I set the bar high for her next attendance at a birthday party. I had the kids running wheelbarrow races in between bowling turns.

Sunday, after sleeping late to recover from the 1:30-5:30 shuttle diversion, we headed out to play ball, then later to Sonny's and Marble Slab for BBQ and ice cream.

Nic, if you can believe this, ate coffee icecream mixed with bubblegum. Gross. (Zac had a vanilla cone with chocolate chips, much more normal.) Half of their is still in the frezer. Neither Zippy nor I got toppings, so we finished ours. (Sweet cream and mint, respectively.)

The boys are excited about the prospect of spending Spring Break at Camp Papa. I've no idea what we'll do with them for about a week, and maybe more. Since they're off school the Friday before Leon County's SB, Chris is even negotiating for a Thursday evening changeoff. We'll see how that plays out.

Kocur, my poor girl, has been all by herself these past few days. Well, not technically alone, but with no walker or bed warmer. During the past week, I started walking her -- nothing more than 15 minutes -- first thing.

And, spoiled girl dog that she is, she decided she needs to get up even earlier. She's taken to digging up the covers around me and if I don't react, she will stand on my back and claw me to death. At this point, she usually gets her way.

So maybe taking a couple of day break will make her little doggie brain forget about the walks and I can start doing them *after* breakfast.

Extended vacation

As of a week or so ago, I've been back in the United States for a month. It's still a weird feeling, although I really think I've dealt with it all fine.

Part of that, I think, stems from the fact I'm in Tallahassee, not Detroit. Since I haven't been to Tally since 1996 on anything but a vacation, I feel like that's what I'm doing now.

Although I'm not entirely sure that's healthy, I'm going with it. I'm working some -- helping write a book -- and applying for jobs like a mad woman, but for the most part, I'm doing the kinds of stuff I did on football weekends when visiting from Detroit.

This includes non-normal vacation stuff like gathering Goodwill stuff from the house, ripping down wallpaper, visiting Lowe's and Home Depot and doing extensive yardwork.

It's keeping me mentally on track, I guess.

No real leads on jobs lately. While at Lowe's I saw an "applications being accepted" sign and am tempted. I certainly wouldn't mind working in lawn and garden or something like that.

Parks & Rec has indicated I'm in line for a part-time gig of some sort, but it's kind of stopped at that. I did all the preliminary stuff but haven't heard from them in about a week.

Tomorrow I'm going to the Red Cross to see about volunteer work, then Friday I meet Elizabeth for lunch before heading down to babysit the boys until the shuttle gets launched.