Nature

Don’t get me wrong. I love boring storms that have names. I feel bad for the people in Barefoot Bay and others who have suffered damage. That said, in my neighborhood … nothing to speak of. It’s crazy looking at the radar and seeing my friends on the other side of I-4 getting nailed with serious rain and it basically barely raining here. I don’t know if that will change or what. I don’t think anyone knows where the storm is headed. The track changes a lot. Anyway, there it is. Watch the boring video and then leave a comment about how bored you were watching it.

Or something.

UPDATE: Gimmee a break … take a gander. I don’t think they know where she will go.

“What’s that smell Mommy?” Doris Day looking lady looks down at Little Billy and says, “why honey … that’s what we call fresh air …”

… A recent conversation brought a troubling development into focus. A man told me that he had bought a home with some measure of reluctance, fearing that the location of the house so near to a neighborhood playground would mean too much noise. As it turns out, he needn’t have worried at all. Very few children visit the playground at all.

The troubling development is that many children never play outside. They prefer to play computer games, surf the Internet, or update their Facebook pages. Their parents are increasingly afraid to let them play outside, scared by the constant barrage of news stories about crimes against children. These children and teenagers are accustomed to air conditioning, sophisticated entertainments, and lack of physical activity. They are aliens in the outside world.

[From Aliens in Creation -- A Generation of Nature Know-Nothings]

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Today was kind of a day for us to have fun. Some of the Exodus staff were/are still making their way here from across the country tonight and tomorrow. Most of us went kayaking on the French Broad River for seven miles that runs through the Biltmore Estate.

The Biltmore … kind of nice. I mean, if you had to live in a bajillion dollar mansion … it’d do. We floated past it and it is gargantuan.

Right at where we put in I got stuck on the rocks. I had a bit of a panic as I took on some water. Flashes of last year’s epic adventure flashed in my head. But, eventually I got through them and was on my way.

Eventually I found my pace and learned to navigate through the white-water … ok, it was only a couple of ripples here and there but I have a great imagination.

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Cicada’s are singing in the tree’s signaling the arrival of Summer

Classic Chicago on the radio singing about love and smiles

Windows and sun roof open on my sporty little car

Sun setting in shades of orange and yellow against the profile of a far away storm

Look up and catch the Palm trees swaying

Sporty little car pulls on through the stoplight

Content and grateful laugh

Last night I went to bed with a headache. I woke up with a headache. I took some Advil right after getting to work … no effect. In fact it got worse.

Light started stabbing me … mercilessly.
Then I could smell a fly fart from three miles away.
Every little smell is magnified to something otherworldly.
Do people have to whisper so loudly?
Then my thoughts started to scatter. Not to the point of confusion but … not normal.
…and feel free to whip out the scatter brained jokes, I deserve them

These are the first signs I have of a developing migraine.

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She might be dead but I see her everywhere …

Last fall I bought my first home. The structure itself isn’t very old but the lady who owned it before me was quite elderly. Her name was Dot and she is dead.

I hate to be so blunt but I never met her. I am not trying to be disrespectful either. That is pretty much all I know about her. All of my neighborhood loved her. They speak very highly of her and my one neighbor originally from Boston exclaimed with fingers lightly at the edge of her mouth, “Oh, that Dot… she was a GEM … a gem of a woman!”

I bought the home from her heirs so, I don’t even know what Dot looks like.

Anyway, Dot left me a lot of gifts. Dot collected paper products, picnic-ware and bleach (four bottles in the washer/dryer area). I just now, months later, had to start buying my own paper towels and still have a kitchen drawer full of plastic forks, spoons and knives. I found two false gods (Mayan?) made out of concrete in the outside storage, two hurricane lamps, a concrete head of a Chinese woman, a potty chair (clean… thank goodness), a large American flag, lots of scotch tape around the corners of the front door window (I don’t understand), a lamp that is hideous (yes… I am using it in my bedroom), a chair that attacks you (nail sticking out at the foot.) But the funnest, not funniest, of all the leftovers Dot left behind … we will get to that in a minute.

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La Shawn has a very interesting post about a condition known as Synesthesia.  Basically synesthesia is the combination of two senses (more?) that are activated from one stimulus.  I saw a 20/20 piece on this years ago and found it very interesting because like La Shawn, I just thought that was how everyone experienced music, color and other things.  Anyway, here is my comment on her blog after she asks for others to share their experience.

I do think I have some form of it. I have always seen the months and alphabet as having colors. April is red of course. February is quite naturally purple and 2 is yellow.

I also see things when I hear music. I saw “videos” in my head LONG before cable television (as a kid.) I can’t listen to music without some kind of unbidden visualization.

Also, at a sordid time in my past I was pulled over by a cop who decided to put me through the paces of a sobriety test. I was actually sober but… anyway. He asked me to say my ABC’s backwards. I asked him if he wanted that in English, Spanish or sign language? He said, “Take your pick.” I chose Spanish and rattled it off in one breath. He was amazed and said that sober people can’t even do that. I was surprised and said, “well, I am sober and I just did it.” When he asked how I said that I could see the whole alphabet lined up in one big long line like a picture.

Sometimes I smell things when I look at paintings … but not all the time.

Do you experience synesthesia?

The thing is… I don’t live in the boonies.  You sure can’t tell with all the wildlife going on around here.

Say hello to my little friend.  I put my big peace lilly out on the front porch and apparently this little fella’ is now calling it home.