Where in the World is Danielle?

Part 4: Recovery

2011-01-28T10:43:00.000-08:00

We are now on Day 5 post-op from PRK/Lasik.

OK, so the folks at the Center for LASIK did not lie. Day 3 was the worst. Not for vision but for comfort. That was Wednesday. On and off all day, I experienced discomfort that ranged from mild to moderate in the morning and early day to uncomfortable in the evening to 'OK, I really hate this, give me a painkiller now' at night. I describe the pain in a couple of ways: 1) Like the stinging that accompanies cutting a fresh onion and 2) Like the burning that comes with holding a staring contest and refusing to blink. Overall, Day 3 was not nearly was bad as I thought it might be. Yes, it was uncomfortable, but most of the day was a 2-3 on a scale of 0-5, 5 being the worst. I took a painkiller and a sleeping pill on the night of Day 3. Day 4 was a new day.
Day 4 was notable for its absence of pain. I felt like everything about my health was normal except for the fact that my detail and long distance vision were mediocre. Toward the end of the day, I got that feeling I used to feel when I wore contacts, that end-of-the-day dryness. But using the fake tears helped that.
I was able to go to dinner at my boyfriend's grandparents on the night of Day 4. My boyfriend remarked that I was a different person (and I felt like it, too) compared to Day 3.
Now it's Day 5. I had my check-up with the doctor, and things are healing. Dr. Gailitis removed the 'bandage' contact lenses, which have been protecting me from debris and excruciating pain. My eyes individually measure 20/40, which is legal for driving. I did a test run driving my mom's car, and it went well. I can't read street signs, but I know where I need to go, anyway. I felt OK driving. Again, there is no pain today. But since the bandage lenses have been out, I feel the presence of foreign bodies but they are not overwhelming forces. :)
I plan to return to work tomorrow to see how things go.
My mom left today, so I'll be fending a bit more for myself. She has been invaluable, and I am so grateful so was able to be here for me. Plus, the office staff — Amy, Jeanie and Dr. Young — have been so kind and patient! Many thanks.

A note on meds, just to keep you up on details:
* 5 days before surgery, I started a regimen of 1000 MG of Vitamin C per day. This will last a total of 2 weeks.
* 3 days before surgery, I started a regimen of 1200 MG of ibuprofren. This started the Friday before the Monday surgery and ended on Wednesday,
* 1 day before surgery, I began 3 different drops 4 times a day (antibiotics and NSIDs of some sort). This continued till morning of Day 5, when drops dropped (tee hee) to 2 different kinds per day instead of 3 kinds.
* Post-op, I am taking Refresh preservative drops several times a day.
All meds cost me about $177 (not using insurance).

Part 2: The Surgery

2011-01-25T13:37:00.000-08:00

Soon after arriving for my scheduled appointment on Jan. 24, Amy, the office manager sweetly asked if I would like a valium. "Yes, please," was my reply. I had begun to feel nervous — the palms of my hands were a little sweaty. My mom came with me to speak to the optometrist, Dr. Mary Beth Young (who is completely awesome), where she explained to me what would happen once I went into "the room."
Here's what happened:
First, I put on a little blue cap and little blue footies over my shoes. Then two nurses walked me into the surgery room, a large room with more nurses and a large machine in the middle of it. Two of the walls were large windows, for observers to watch the proceedings. My mom decided not to watch. I lay down on the low metal table and made sure my head was snug in the headrest. I was happy to have my sweater and wished I had a blanket on my legs.
The surgeon (Dr. Ray Gailitis, he of the steady hand) told me he would do one eye first, then the other. He covered my left eye with a black patch — "like a pirate," he joked — and then asked me to look up. When my eyelids were open like this, he used tape to hold the top lid high and the bottom lid low. Then he placed an oval piece of plastic to keep my eye open wide. I think they did something like this to Mel Gibson in 'Conspiracy Theory.'
Next came the eyedrops. That sounds like an innocuous sentence, I know. But when you can't blink and there are 10 drops shooting into your eye all at once, you kinda wish you were anywhere else but on that table. Finally, the drops were over. They were 'numbing drops.' Finally, the doctor used what appeared to be a kind of broom for the eye to sweep away the extra drops. They also ran down the sides of my face. Fortunately, the nurse had already put little cotton pieces under my blue cap to catch the drippings.
Next came another set of drops. Icky. Then, the doctor said he was going to give me some 2 percent alcohol drops. First, he placed a small cylinder onto my eye so that I really had tunnel vision. I felt like I was watching what was happening through a TV camera. I saw the alcohol drops fall onto my lid. The little green light above my head, at first just a green blur, turned into a solid green circle, like what you would see under a microscope. I watched the drops swirl within this green circle. I heard a countdown: 45 seconds to go ... 30 seconds ... 15 seconds. Then the doctor removed the tunnel-inducing cylinder and 'swept' the drops away.
Next came the hard part. This is what makes this type of Lasik different than most. The doctor had to scrape away parts of my eyeball. Don't ask me what it was called, because I asked the doctor not to tell me. All I know is that because my cornea is a little thin and oddly shaped, I had to get this sort of PRK Lasik. With a steady hand, the doctor used what looked from my vantage point to be a small black tool to scrape away the ... whatever it's called. Did it hurt? No. Did the idea of it hurt? Yes. My heart was thumping, and I was squeezing the nurse's hand. I concentrated on my breathing, filling my lungs, calming myself down.
Finally, the scrapey part was over and it was time for the Laser. "Just look at the green light," the doctor advised, "and keep as still as you can." I did. I gazed at the light while I smelled a nasty smell, which Dr. Young had told me earlier would NOT be my eye burning. "We're about halfway through," said the doctor. Then it was over. He told me I did great job, and asked me to look up so he could remove the tape from my lids. That felt like getting an eyebrow wax, but the good news was, as I said to the surgery crew, "I could see!"
The doctor repeated on my left eye what he did on my right. I sat up slowly off the metal table. The doctor asked me if I could read the clock. I said, as I looked out the window wall, "I can see my mom eating a cookie!" And I could also read the time: "It's 10 after two," I said. Next came a quick photograph of me, the surgeon and one of the nurses. The surgery was over.
Next: Part 3: I survived PRK and all I got was this stupid eye gear!

Part 1: Deciding to get Lasik

2011-01-25T13:13:00.000-08:00

Twenty-six years of eyeglasses and contact lenses, countless bottles of Saline solution, many, many frames and $2,127 ($177 of it of RX not using insurance) later, I finally have vision without the help of contacts or glasses. I am — so far — a successful case of Laser surgery known as PRK. I like to describe it as the "scrapey, not the flappy" kind of Laser correction.

Back in March, I had gone for my regular eye ckeck-up. While I was at the optometrist’s office, I decided to get a preliminary Lasik consultation ... just to see if I qualified. I did. I liked the staff. I liked the office. Then they told me the price — $1,950 an eye — and I decided it could wait. So I waited. And waited. Then in November, I got an email from Living Social with the following subject line: 50% Off LASIK TREATMENT.
With the thought ‘It couldn’t hurt to look,” I opened up the email. Guess what? It was the same place I had gone for my initial consultation. After a couple of phone calls back and forth between the doctor’s office, I decided to buy it.
We set a date of Jan. 24 for a few reasons, one them being that my mom could be in town to help out.

For more, read Part 2: The Surgery

Part 3: I survived PRK and all I got was this stupid eye gear!

2011-01-25T12:50:00.000-08:00

Mom helps me attach the protective eye gear for my Day 1 nap.

I will wear these for 7 nights to protect my new eyes.

I came home 30 minutes later on the day of PRK surgery and was still groggy from the valium. The doctor told me to try to keep my eyes closed for most of the day, opening them only to go to the bathroom, to eat, etc. My mom drove us home while I kept my eye closed, as the sun was too bright for me, despite my wraparound sunglasses. When I slept, I was told to wear special coverings to keep from disturbing my eyes. My mom helped me put on the plastic eye coverings using some medical tape. "I think freezer tape would work better," opined my mother. Still, we persevered with the medical tape, and the results are pictured here. (My boyfriend had come home from school and taken out his camera.) Then I napped for three hours. When I woke up, my mom had made some chicken and rice for me. Yum! I listened to some TV for a while then went back to bed. My doctor called around 9 p.m. to make sure everything was going all right. I told him I felt a little burny in my right eye, but it wasn't horrible, and that my eyes were very teary. He said it was all normal, and he would see me for my followup the next day.
After a long sleep — 12 or so hours — I woke around 9:30 and was able to see! The vision was still a bit blurry on details, but I could look at my phone to call people or text. I could see the TV channels but not read the news crawl. When I got to my appointment, the doctor said everything was looking good, that my eyes were healing. I had 20/20 vision (using both eyes, not individually). Dr. Gailities and the staff warned me that the next day, Day 3, would probably be more painful for me. Today, I am obviously on the computer. Today is Day 2, but I don't know what tomorrow will bring.
I am told my vision won't settle for three months, but that by Monday (one week after surgery), I can expect to be pretty good in terms of pain and vision.
So that's all for now. Getting through Day 2, hoping Days 3 and beyond will treat me well.
Part 4: The Recovery

David Gray in Miami ... and Joe's Stone Crabs in our bellies

2010-04-20T20:29:00.000-07:00

A recent trip to Miami Beach pleased our senses in more ways than one. We first ate at the world-famous Joe's Stone Crabs, where we ordered lobster bisque (amazing), grilled tomatoes topped with cheese and spinach (decent), home fries (Mark loved them), stone crabs (so-so) and Key lime pie (divine). We also saw David Gray perform at the Jackie Gleason theater. Opening was a band we both digged: Phosphorescent (unwashed but mellow-sounding).

After dinner, Mark and I asked a passing couple if they would take our picture in front of the restaurant's neon sign.

Joe's Stone Crabs waiter Kevin (from Boston, not Long Island) ties a bib around Mark's neck as we prepare to dig in to our "large-size" stone crabs.

A plate of fresh stone crabs. (Note: We both decided we prefer snow or Alaskan king crab better, since they are warmer and sweeter.)

No seafood meal is complete without Key lime pie. This one had homemade whipped cream. It was delicious, but I was stuffed from the meal.

We had time for a quick walk on the beach before heading to the Jackie Gleason. We took off our shoes and headed out.

Winds, clouds and man-o-war on the Miami Beach coastline made for a pretty picture.

Mark had just spent a week in Phoenix wearing his strappy sandals. Can you tell?

Our main objective for driving down to Miami Beach was to see David Gray perform. It was good, not great (for me).

A Georgia Thanksgiving

2009-12-02T18:11:00.001-08:00

Mark and I went to Georgia to spend the long Thanksgiving weekend with his family (brother Brian and wife Camille, parents Mark and Beth, nephew Ethan) there.

Brian prepares the propane tank to fry the turkeys. There were two, but we only broke into one.

Brian dips the second turkey as Alan watches.

Brian uses the meat thermometer to check the temperature of the turkey. We had driven to three stores on Thanksgiving morning before finding the thermometer at Walmart. It was almost a year without turkey.

Ehtan, Mark and Danielle enjoy the sunshine on a chilly November day in Georgia.

Danielle, Beth, Ethan and Mark chill out under the sun on a swing at the park. (Oh, yeah. There's Coco the dog, too.)

Mark takes a spin on the bicycle through the Waterford neighborhood.

Ethan and Alan (known to Ethan as Pa-Pa — pronounced paw-paw) ride along the road. Ethan just loves riding his Arctic Cat.

Mark embraces Ethan at the top of the slide in the treehouse.

Mark gets the idea to ride down the 5-foot slide while nephew Ethan watches. The opening is a little narrow, isn't it?

Mark emerges from the narrow frame to get onto the kiddie slide.

Mark finally reaches the bottom of the slide. Go, Mark, go!

Danielle and Mark take a self portrait.

One of the errands Mark was looking forward to most was his haircut at the Andy Griffith Show-themed Floyd's. Here, he flinches as the stylist at Floyd's cuts his hair. Notice the poker-themed cape.

Alan smiles during his haircut at Floyd's.

Post-haircut, Mark poses in front of the famous Floyd's of Cartersville, Ga.

Mark watches as Danielle tries out an ear candle for the first time. According to the directions on the package, the candles create a vortex that cleans out the ear canal and helps with congestion, migraines and more. As for me, all I noticed was the cool sound the candle made as the flame ate away at it.

Mark sits with Albert the alligator, UF's mascot, while Alan waits with the luggage on our last day in town.

Leonard Cohen, Sunrise, FL

2009-10-18T14:21:00.000-07:00

I had the honor to see Leonard Cohen performing in Sunrise this weekend. This was the second time I've seen him, the first being at the Merriweather Post Pavilion in Maryland in May of this year. Although this show lacked the excitement I felt at the first show, it made up for it in another way: During the second set, my friend Keith and I snuck up to seats very close to the stage, about 8 or so rows back. I was delighted to be so close. Here are some photos:

"Bank Atlantic Welcomes You to the BankAtlantic Center." Keith and I had a *huge* giggle over this.

Keith, left, and his friend Mike were part of the thousands at the BankAtlantic Center.

The 10 performers silhouetted in purple. Besides Leonard Cohen, there were three female backup singers, a drummer, a sax/harmonica/woodwind player, a steel guitar man (Bob Metzger), a Spanish guitar player (Javiar Mas), a bass player, pianist, and another guitar. That might have been 11.

The man himself: Leonard Cohen, left, with Bob Metzger, an accomplished guitar player in his own right.

Cohen, right, with backup singers. The man with the guitar in the middle is the group's leader, I think Cohen said.

I like the way the spotlight shines down on the group. At far right is the amazingly talented Javiar Mas playing Spanish guitar.

Cohen under a spotlight.

Yours truly. I was hoping to get Cohen in the background on stage, but all you can see are the backup singers.

The performers leave the stage after the second encore.

I got a set list at the end of the show. Although Chelsea Hotel is listed, they did not play it. So sad.

Test of google calendar

2009-09-08T10:08:00.000-07:00

I have a google calendar. I want to see what you see when I embed it here:

Can I get a volunteer to click one of these events and see if it allows you to edit event details?

Thanks,
Danielle

I got hit by a car!

2009-08-14T14:55:00.000-07:00

A cracked tailbone, fractured wrist, sprained rotator cuff, scrapes, sore muscles and ear infections. These are injuries I have sustained from sports. The culprits? Step class, volleyball, in-line skating, skiing and swimming. I have a new injury to report, garnered during a sport that is seemingly injury-proof: Walking. Yes, good ole equipment-free and teammate-less walking. No one to crash into me as we both dive for the ball. No step to trip over. No flying objects to hit me on the head. The one thing I did not expect to injure me was a side-view mirror.

It was an hour or so before sunset on a warm and breezy summer day. Perfect Florida weather for a walk. And what better place than near the water? So I parked my car on the west side of the Lake Worth Bridge and began to walk across it. I admired the beauty of the Intracoastal/Lake Worth as I walked eastward toward the ocean. At the traffic light at A1A, I headed south on the sidewalk that runs parallel to Lake Worth.

The sidewalk was under construction, with large chunks removed and barricades scattered every 30 feet or so. I decided to join the other people out for walks and jogs on the bicycle lane, a 3-foot wide stretch that shares the pavement of the road itself. A white strip of paint separates the bike lane from the car lane. State Road A1A is a two-lane road with not very much traffic at this time of year and day. I did not think twice about my choice to walk on this lane. Perhaps I should have.

I was energized from the current song on my iPod: Traffic and Weather by Fountains of Wayne. So energized was I that I was pumping my arms up near my chest. It's a good thing my arms weren't swinging down by my body, because next thing I knew, I felt something crack me in my left hip as a clean white sedan brushed past close to my body. My hip was smarting as I watched the car continue its path south on A1A, its side-view mirror tipped and in danger of falling off. Dazed, I pulled myself to the right onto the grass between the bike lane and the sidewalk. I had my eyes on the car as its left turn signal blinked and it slowed down but did not stop. I raised my arms in a "WTF" gesture, and I believe I verbalized it as well. The car continued. Momentum kept me walking as well. I was also shaking and starting feel a little headachy (from the adrenaline, friends later suggested).

I made a couple of phone calls to friends to report the news. I thought it was so bizarre that a car got that close to me, hit me with its mirror, and continued along its merry way. My friend Carol (an editor at the Palm Beach Daily News) persuaded me to call the police to report the crime. After all, a crime it was. She gave me the number for the town police, and I called about 10-15 minutes after I was struck. I gave the details to the dispatcher, and soon after, an officer arrived in his squad car.

Officer Pina took my name, my statement, my address, etc., and asked if I wanted Fire-Rescue to come and take a look at my injuries. I told him no. All that was hurting was my hip (actually, turns out to be my upper buttox, which is nicely padded, thank you very much), and a bruise seemed to be my only injury. As Pina and I were talking, a patrol car from South Palm Beach pulled up to tell us that he had no luck spotting the car with the broken side-view mirror. "He's long gone," said the SPB officer. Hearing this, I wish I'd been more vigilant about noticing the plate number or calling the cops sooner. I was convinced, though, that the driver was going to stop.

Officer Pina did not fault me for not noticing the license plate. He "just wanted to make sure I was all right," he told me. He asked if I knew anyone who could come and pick me up and bring me to my car. He was concerned I'd feel all right for part of my return trip over the bridge but then fall over halfway there. So I called my roommate, who arrived about 15 minutes later to return me to my car.

I drove home, took a shower, and iced my hip. I kept checking the full-length mirror for signs of a bruise but have not seen one so far. When I touch the spot, it feels sore. So far, I've had no other ill effects. Well, maybe one. I'm a little gun-shy about taking another walk soon on A1A.

Potpourri

2009-08-10T15:22:00.000-07:00

I saw Matisyahu in concert in Pompano Beach. Jewish, reggae, bluesy. May 2009.

The Holocaust memorial in Miami in May 2009.

I also saw Leonard Cohen this summer. This is Baltimore in May.

Nephew Josh's graduation from Port St. Lucie high school at sunset. June.

In a cabin in Tennessee overlooking the Smokies.

Friends at the Dance Trance in Lexington, June.

In DC, with the Washington Monument just barely visible in background.

On line at Mount Vernon, George Washington's Virginia home.

At the border of the Jamestown settlement, Va.

Selecting our Maryland blue crabs in DC for an evening's delightful meal.

At the Korean War memorial in DC.

The Civil War battlefields of Manassas, Va.

Me at a Phillies game. We got there early. Very early.

Coney Island on a perfect summer day.

A painting I liked at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I was amazed how the artist got the yellow to shine so brightly.

Posing in front of a wall fountain in Manhattan.

With the Chelsea Hotel sign in the background, Manhattan, east side.

In Brooklyn Heights, overlooking the financial district.

Cousin Jo-Anne, a grad student at Columbia, uses her hands to illustrate her point.

Learning belly dance from Beverly in Alpine, NJ, on the Hudson.

With my father in Neuville, on the St. Lawrence River.

A Chinese feast in Montreal's Chinatown with Aunt Michele.

In the arts district in Montreal, on opening day of the Jazz Festival.

2009-08-04T05:54:00.000-07:00

On the Atlantic

2009-06-02T13:14:00.001-07:00

The ocean off the Palm Beach coast was as blue and clear as I've ever seen it.

I believe this is my natural state. Sunbathing on a boat on a sunny day.

A highlight of the day was catching a pod of dolphins playing near the boat.

My friend Chris owns the 15-foot Whaler that took us out from Boynton Beach inlet to Singer Island.

A famous foot photo. My feet, the side of the boat, the ocean, a beach-front condo.

Chris dives into the water off The Breakers hotel in Palm Beach.

Playing in the water near The Breakers. Chris joked that I looked like a seal (or an otter?) playing with its catch.

Capt. Danielle steers the boat toward a sailboat so we could take some photos of it.

A pod of dolphins plays in the Atlantic.

Virginia is for historians

2009-05-19T20:21:00.001-07:00

The state of Virginia has posted informative signs near historic places in the state. And there are plenty of them. The Battle of Chancelorsville (20 minutes from Christy's house in Fredericksburg, Va.) was "Lee's 'perfect battle' because of his risky but successful division of his army in the presence of a much larger enemy force," according to Wikipedia.

A replica of a cannon used in the Battle of Chancelorsville (Va.).

A proud rebel has carved the flag in one of the trees in the wilderness area where Stonewall Jackson was shot by friendly fire in May 1863. He died a few days later.

On my drive from Chancellorsville to Jefferson's estate, Monticello, I passed the town of Gordonsville. I was attracted to this tiny library along the main street. When I went inside, I learned it was no more than 1,000 square feet. It had a main room consisting of shelves along the perimeter and two stacks in the middle, creating 3 aisles of books. A shoot-off room had the children's section. One librarian on duty, one comfy chair to sit in, one computer to search the collection.

Trees envelop visitors as they approach the entrance to Monticello, meaning "little mountain."

The one photo I managed to take while inside the house, this is the dining room. I love how Jefferson managed to get so much light into his home.

Leaving the house after the guided tour, I turned to shoot the door my group had just emerged from.

Walking in the back yard among the gardens, I paused to take a self portrait. I like the shadow of the tree on my face.

The stairs on which I sit lead up from the back yard of the house.

On the grounds is this Fish Pond. I imagine enslaved kitchen workers coming here to "fish" for the evening's dinner. The pond itself is pretty scuzzy-looking now.

This group of Mormon missionaries was on the grounds that day. I loved the contrast of their suits to not only the casual clothes most of the visitors were wearing but the trees, grass, and flowers.

The house itself is up on a hill. This cemetery, the African-American graveyard as it's called today, was at the bottom near the road to town. There were no headstones that I could see.

Here is a list of some of the names of those who were enslaved in service at Monticello.

... at the Lake Eden Arts Festival

2009-05-12T06:43:00.000-07:00

Roommate Francine, right, greets the parade as it started up the hill during the Lake Eden Arts Festival in Black Mountain, NC.

We caught the parade just in time. Here, a juggler concentrates.

Gourd heads, for some reason, were popular on the parade route.

Drummers dressed in bright colors kept the beat.

Set up in the middle of the vendor area was this web of string. Anyone could come and wrap string around the existing structure.

Necklaces for sale at the Lake Eden Arts Festival in Black Mountain, NC.

Francine roomed with me at the Motel 6. Here she is among scarves for sale. She'd just bought the leather hat and was happy with the price.

These two guys were selling naturally flavored chocolate, meaning it had no sugar. It was gross. I told them I did not like it, and the guy on the left said I was the first person to tell him that. I tried to give him constructive criticism: it was crumbly and had a biting aftertaste.

These clothes are hanging on racks made of old plumbing pipes.

I've gotten three henna tattoos from this woman. She lives in Raleigh with her husband and is adamant that henna is an actual art.

Me and my henna. I love it.

A girl next to me had just gotten an Oriental symbol on her shoulder blade. I took the photo so she could see it. I kept it because I think it looks cool.

Petrified Forest, AZ

2009-05-12T05:57:00.000-07:00

Petrified Forest National Park came upon me suddenly on the drive from Santa Fe to Amarillo. These rock formations are called teepees.

The hotel within the park offers spectacular views (sounds like I'm writing the press release).

Behind the hotel is this trail, leading down into the rocks.

These petrified tree stumps are the reason this national park exists. Scientists believe a flooded river washed huge trees from the north into this valley in Arizona. Elements such as iron infiltrated the trees and solidified them.

I wanted to illustrate the size of this fallen log. Not sure why, but it surprised me that the petrified forest is comprised of fallen -- not standing -- trees. :)

Chemicals within the logs give them their colors, such as yellows, reds, and purples.

This is Savannah, a military nursing student. She and I kept running into each other along the stops in the park. At one point, my camera battery died and she was able to recharge it in her car for me.

More rock formations within the park.

The best part of my visit was sitting in the sunshine, contemplating the view. Savannah shot this one.

It was getting late in the afternoon when I left the national park.

Road tripping

2009-05-12T05:49:00.000-07:00

With a jam-packed car, I've been adding miles on Interstate 40 heading east from Vegas to Asheville, NC.

Cousins Julie and Danielle stop in a karaoke bar in Vegas before the latter began the trek east.

San Miguel church in Santa Fe, NM, is the oldest church in the country, according to the signs.

The windows of oldest house in Santa Fe, NM, are boarded up.

Outside Amarillo, TX, is this cemetery. What I like about it is the flat Texas skyline goes on indefinitely.

Cadillac Ranch

2009-05-05T19:51:00.000-07:00

It's not a restaurant or a whorehouse but a work of art. Word has it an eccentric Texas millionaire bought Cadillacs, planted them nose-down in a field outside Amarillo, TX, and paved the way for tourists to spray paint them.

The state of Texas sanctions the graffiti. Just make sure it's on the right side of the fence.

These 10 Caddies stand in the middle of Texas farmland on Interstate 40.

I take a can of white spray paint and add a little something to one of the cars.

My graffiti was to add, in white, this "no" symbol. Please don't try to analyze my choice.

It really is in the middle of nothing.

Looking toward I-40 from one of the tires.

Someone had cut out "OK" into one of the tires.

People from all over were tickled to tag the cars.

Kolob Canyons

2009-05-05T19:42:00.000-07:00

Jessica, Amanda and Danielle on a bench at a stop at Kolob Canyons, part of Zion National Park.

Danielle, Jessica and Amanda pose as hiker Ethan, below, snaps their photo. It was a breezy, blue-skied day.

Ethan and his girlfriend were about to embark on a hike when we stopped him to take our photo.

The "crevice," as we called it, is visible in the rock.

We stopped by Aunt Judy's in Ivins, UT, to drop off some furniture for her garage sale. I dig her "Garage sale goddess" shirt.

The Krishnas have it

2009-04-21T22:41:00.000-07:00

The architecture at the Sri Sri Radha Krishna temple in Spanish Fork, UT, is ornate. Here, Allison walks in the shadowed foyer toward the front door.

We had to leave our shoes at the door, ladies and gentlemen.

A bonafide reason to have a foot photo!

An Estonian named Rom (Roman) volunteered to take Allison and me on a tour of the temple. What I found most striking about him were his sincere blue/gray eyes. When talking about the philosophy of the Krishnas, he would look right at me, seeming to attempt to talk to my soul through his eyes.

In the prayer area of the temple is posted the words to this Krishna prayer. I know the words and tune from the rock opera Hair, which I hope to see when I am in New York this summer.

Rom explained why people touch the chimes upon entering the temple (an action somewhat like the Holy Water in Catholic churches): Touching the chimes is a way to dispel the thoughts of "the world" before entering the realm of the spiritual.

I was surprised when I first heard, then saw, peacocks on the property.

Roaming the grounds of the temple were scores of llamas. Dangerously placed along our path were llama turds. We had to watch our step...

A llama digs in for a meal.

Rom was excited about showing us his dorm room at the temple, where he's lived for a year (or two?). I was surprised at the asceticism. He had this blue-framed bunk bed. The bottom bunk had merely a sleeping bag, where Rom slept. The top bunk held about 4 rows and 10 columns of seedlings in recycled sour cream containers. On the wall were rows and rows of artwork Rom had created, mostly of Catholic saints (though he is not Catholic, Rom says he is intrigued by the figures) and crayon/watercolor drawings coupled with such deep thoughts as these:
* Go as far as you can see, and when you get there, you can see farther.
* Our greatest glory is not never falling but in rising every time we fall.
* We say we waste time but what is impossible -- we waste ourselves.
* A true friend never gets in your way unless you are going down.

Another thing Rom had in his room were small bits of note paper hanging evenly from the ceiling. When I asked him what they were, he said he liked to keep a record of nice things that happened during the day. I wonder if he wrote a note about me and Allison visiting him in his dorm room, where he attempted to get into the yoga pose known as scorpion. I don't recall how it came up, but he said he's done it in the past. I wanted to see it, so he actually got down on the floor (not carpeted, btw) and proceeded to try to get into the pose. I was impressed, even though he did not complete it. He got to the headstand part. I didn't take a photo; I thought it might break his concentration.

The Bryce is right (horrible, I know)

2009-04-13T19:51:00.000-07:00

What this photo is supposed to invoke is my excitement at these hoodoos at Bryce Canyon National Park. Can you feel my excitement?

Looking down on the hoodoos from Sunset Point. I hiked about 3 miles on trails, including an icy and slippery part that nearly sent me flying.

A twisted tree on the trail between Sunset and Sunrise points

Looking closely, I saw pastel-colored, powdery rock along the path. It probably has something to do with mineral deposits.

These girls were giggling as their father took a photo of them from the other end of this tunnel.

Sitting among the hoodoos.

From Bryce, I drove down Hwy 89 to Zion National Park. I liked the look of the underside of this bridge.

My awesome car has taken me nearly 90,000 miles in three years. Here it is overlooking the Zion region.

Easter Ivins

2009-04-11T21:51:00.001-07:00

I don't know what this is called or what it's used for. I just think it's beautiful. These are some fields in Ivins, UT.

These horses (and there might be a donkey in there; not sure) were eating their dinner when I came along. On the ground had fallen some of the green pellets that comprised their meal. I picked up a few and fed them.

The sign sounds like a warning from a mother (who does not speak English as a first language) speaking to her child about drugs.

No baseball this afternoon as I stand at home plate in a famous Danielle foot photo.

Aunt Judy's garage is infamous. These are among the items she plans to sell at an upcoming garage sale.

Was I surprised to see stones in the sink in the guest bedroom? Why, yes, I was. Aunt Judy claims it's an Oriental thing. Mmmm hmmm...

Among the tasks Aunt Judy had for me was removing old photos from a frame. Here are my grandparents and other family members captured on good ole black 'n' white.

I'm at the opera!

2009-03-22T20:29:00.000-07:00

UTAH OPERA's Marriage of Figaro: 3 stars (out of 5)

I never would have imagined myself going to the opera. I love the theater, I love concerts, I love movies. But the opera seemed a little out there. Then I met a real-life opera singer at one of my game-night outings. He seemed like a normal-enough person and much cooler than his head shot seemed to imply. Soon after, I heard an advertisement on NPR about the local opera company putting on "The Marriage of Figaro." So I asked my roommate Amanda if she fancied a try at the opera. This is her year of trying new things, so she readily agreed. We bought nose-bleed tickets for 15 bucks; we weren't willing to drop $50+ on an event that, frankly, might suck.
We got all dressed up (with somewhere to go!) and arrived at the Capitol Theatre in downtown Salt Lake City on a blustery Sunday afternoon. We climbed about 3 flights of stairs and found our seats. After squeezing our knees and elbows in to the tightly packed seats, we looked around the audience and read through the program. I was absolutely tickled to recognize a couple from contra dancing. (See this guy in the blue shirt? He was there with his girlfriend.)
In any case, the program explained that in the first act, Figaro and his fiancee are talking about the upcoming wedding. Then, the Count appears and wants the fiancee (Susanna) for his own. There's a older woman who wants to marry Figaro and thinks she can bribe him into marriage by holding the money he owes her as enticement. There's a flirtatious page boy (played by a girl) who chases after the Countess. Then there are about 3 or 4 other characters introduced, and things start to look confusing. That's when I put the program aside and waited for the show to start.
It began with Mozart's familiar opening strains that I remember playing in band one year. The musicianship was excellent, flawless. The curtains raised on a pretty stage with a bed in the middle of the room and cherub figures painted on the walls. We meet Figaro and Susanna, and the story begins.
The opera itself is a comedy. It's not one of these tragic shows where everyone dies of TB, poor and alone. Other stereotypes of the opera are there: love affairs, people jumping to conclusions, bizarre coincidences, scheming, jealousy, deception.
I won't be able to clearly tell the story, so I won't. That was part of the learning curve for me: so many characters and subplots confused me. The singing itself was like the musicianship: flawless. It seemed any one of the performers on stage could have played the lead parts. There was no talking at all: this was straight opera singing. It was also in Italian. There were surtitles above the stage. This was a bit of a drag, because it took away from my enjoyment of the pure singing. I had to look away to comprehend what I was hearing. There was a disconnect there. When I concentrated on the signing alone, I got more pleasure out of it. i didn't understand what was happening, but oh well.
There were 2 intermissions; the show itself lasted about 3 hours. It was a tad uncomfortable on two levels: sitting down for so long in a small, cramped space, and having a cough that nearly tickled my throat so bad I wanted to grab the water out of the hands of the girl sitting next to me (*not* my roommate). Instead, I frantically grabbed a cough drop and prayed it would still the tickle. After an uncomfortable 2 or 3 minutes, it did.
So, would I do it again? Yes, I think so. "Figaro," confusing as it was, was a good place to start, operatically. It had some laughs, beautiful sets and costumes, amazing performances, and was overall well-done. Next time, I hope not to have a cough.

Even better than the opera was dinner at the Melting Pot afterward. Amanda and I walked over from the theater after reserving a table online during one of the opera's intermissions (yay, iPhone!). We went "whole hog" and splurged on the Fondue Feast. First came the 4-cheese fondue with bread, apples, and raw veggies. Next were the salads. After a nice pause while we digested came the meat: steak, chicken, shrimp, pork. Oh, yes, there were also mushroom ravioli-type things. Finally, we got to choose our dessert. In what kind of chocolate fondue would we like to dip our strawberries, bananas, Oreo- and graham-cracker-rolled marshmallows, pound cake, brownies, and cheesecake? We chose simply: milk chocolate. Other options were white, dark, espresso, cinnamon, turtle, and more I cannot recall. My favorite of the sweets to dip? The Oreo-rolled marshmallow. Wow. Sugar coma time. But worth it. In the end, opera and the Melting Pot were a great pairing.

Contra dancing in SLC

2009-03-09T12:08:00.000-07:00

I finally got a group of friends to come dancing with me.
Back row: Katie, Brian, Danielle, Allison, Amanda.
Front row: Daphne, James

Danielle balancing right and left in a long line.

Danielle, Allison, Amanda. Didn't realize the "girls" were so out there.

More long lines. Look closely. You might find yourself. You are not Ted Kaczynski.

St. Croix, USVI

2009-02-10T15:11:00.001-08:00

Fort Christianvaern in Christiansted, USVI.

Stairs lead up into the top of the fort.

Graham watches as Catherine and Dave "pee" in the latrine at the fort.

Danielle and Stewart pose in a dance move on top of the fort. The cannon pictured could -- back in the day -- shoot a cannonball over a mile. "Back in the day" for this cannon meant the 1800s.

Stewart performs a test of bravery as he reaches into the cannon.

Graham hangs on to her hat as the wind nearly blows it off at the top of the fort.

A view through a window toward the sea from the second floor of the fort.

Captain Gordon talks to Stewart about boats on the dock at Christiansted. Gordon had taken 35 of us out snorkeling around Buck Island a few days previously. He is posted here as mere eye candy. :)

Norway in a Nutshell

2009-01-27T18:02:00.000-08:00

Norway in a Nutshell is an exercise in transportation. I took a train to a bus to a boat back to a train. I saw lakes turned white with snow, frozen waterfalls, and colorful houses along the banks of the fjord.

This dock is at the foot of the fjord, where we boarded the boat.

Our view from the boat along the fjord.

I was quite chilly on the top deck of the boat. It did start to snow a bit later.

According to NorwayNutshell.com: "The boat sails out the Aurlandsfjord and into the Naeroyfjord, one of the narrowest fjord in Europe. The Naeroyfjord is included on UNESCO's famous World Heritage List." The water was quite choppy where the fjords met.

As if the mountains and fjord weren't enough, the flag should prove I was in Norway.

The wake from the boat leads into the smoked-out mountains.

A small village rests on the fjord as a waterfall spills down from the mountain.

The Flåm Railway took us through tunnels and stopped in front of the Stalheimsfossen waterfall.

The train tracks ran alongside the fjord, parts of which were frozen.

Sitting in the train watching the snow-covered world whiz by.

Snow flakes appear to be enormous as passengers board the train from Myrdal down to Flåm (or maybe it was the other way around).

Houses along the fjord on the way from Flam, Norway.

Bergen: Around Town

2009-01-17T08:40:00.000-08:00

I am leaning against the tool shed of The Cathedral cemetery (Domkirkegården) in Bergen. I saw dates from the 1700s, though my pamphlet told me the cemetery dates to the 12th century.

The Cathedral (Domkirkegården), in Bergen, has moss-covered walls and wooden doors all around.

An amazing web of branches at The Cathedral cemetery (Domkirkegården).

Another twisted tree, this one at The Assistant cemetery (Assistentkirkegården). It's behind the train station downtown.

Saint Jacob's cemetery (St. Jacob kirkegård) abuts apartment buildings (behind where I am standing).

A headless tombstone at The Cathedral cemetery (Domkirkegården).

This is a headstone at The Cross Church cemetery (Korskirkegården).

I love the contrast between the bright graffiti and the stones of the cemetery at The Cathedral cemetery (Domkirkegården).

The lake at the Byparken near downtown. Seagulls and mallards would pounce on anyone looking like they had food. It was so windy that the lake, normally flat, would get white caps and light chop. The white building straight ahead is the museum of art.

The playwright Ibsen looks like a blowhard in this statue in front of the theater.

Graffiti on the street, near the theater.

Composer Evard Grieg was born in Norway. They remember him here with this statue.

A store called Amanda.

Give me an "N" for Norway

2009-01-16T08:29:00.000-08:00

Road signs in Bergen, Norway, point the way to Oslo, Alesund, Stavenager and Sentrum.

This statue is in the square next to the tourism office. There's a salon nearby, too.

Traditional Norweigan frocks in a shop in Bergen. They also sold sweaters and angora wool for knitting.

View through the glass from the 5th floor of my hotel. Rooftops, waterway, offices and hotel buildings.

My passport now has a stamp from Amsterdam. They didn't stamp me in Norway. The girl with the hat is on the 500 NOK (Kroner) bill, worth about $71.

Me and my awesome scarf. Dig the combover, too!

The building where I work in Bergen, Norway, is right on the water. Houses dot the hills in the background.

Yield means yield! (That means you, Brian!). I'm on lunch break. This is the road I walk to work every day.

A post box is attached to the wall outside my office building. The newspaper shares a space with the fishing museum and other fishing-related businesses. I am told there is an enormous freezer full of fish in it.

A typical lunch for me at work: Soup (cream-based with either fish, asparagus, or cauliflower), bread (awesome, fresh-cut, whole-grain), apple, boiled egg.

Across from a church in Bergen is this garage door with the graffiti: "Jesus var her!!!" It means what you think it does: "Jesus was here."

My feet on the cobblestone.

The sun! The sun! My kingdom for the sun! It had been at least three days since I'd felt the sun on my face. This is the dock area across from my work building.

The king had a castle in Bergen. This was taken about 8 a.m., on my way to work. The castle is about a 5-minute walk from my hotel.

The ads on Norweigan Facebook crack me up. I wonder, are they telling me this man is in my age group?

Finally, here is the sound of the rain on my window. It's like gumballs dropping on a tile floor.

Shovel this!

2008-12-13T13:09:00.001-08:00

We got snow early this morning. And late this morning. I spent the night at my friend Daphne's house, and she's got lots of sidewalks. Sidewalks covered in snow. I, the Floridian, thought it would be fun to shovel some. And it was fun. For 5 minutes. Then it became a workout. But I did feel like I accomplished something, so it was all worth it. Thanks, Daph!

Seven days at sea

2008-12-02T19:22:00.000-08:00

A pelican in the foreground and the Vision of the Seas in the background while tethered in Cabo San Lucas. A dozen of us took a week-long cruise from Long Beach, Calif. We stopped in Cabo San Lucas, Mazatlan, and Puerta Vallarta, Mexico.

Sunset at sea aboard the Vision of the Seas, a Royal Caribbean ship.

Allison and Danielle in a water taxi in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. I was trying to haggle for a better price from the boat captain, but Allison just whipped out her money and said she'd pay whatever he wanted. Sigh.

During one of the formal nights, Dawn and Danielle mug for the camera.

Carla specifies the roll she wants on one of the formal nights aboard the Vision of the Seas.

Diego, our patient and saucy headwater, cuts my lobster tail for me while Dave enjoys his meal.

Allie during one of the formal nights on the Royal Caribbean cruise.

Dealing a hand of ... Apples to Apples in the game room. My sister Joanne loves the necklace I am wearing.

Danielle and Bob on the beach in Mazatlan, Mexico.

Chefs Allison and Danielle take a cooking class in Mazatlan. The "Salsa and Salsa" excursion taught us how to make margaritas, salsa, and dance the salsa.

My favorite day was at sea, reading "The Hunger Games," and sunning myself on the muster deck.

Fruit monkeys hold fruit guitars on the midnight buffet aboard the Vision of the Seas.

Our stateroom attendant surprised us each night with a new animal made from bath towels. This dog wears my sunglasses.

One of the most amazing creatures I have ever beheld, this seahorse is native to Australian waters. It was in a seawater tank at the seaquarium in Long Beach.

I got a new hat in Long Beach. I like it.

I'm at the Wasatch Wiggle!

2008-10-21T20:43:00.000-07:00

Many people who know and love me know I know and love contra dancing. Here is a video that shows dancers at the annual Wasatch Wiggle contra dance in Salt Lake City over the weekend of Oct. 17-19, 2008. I am not in the video; I filmed it. See why contra dancing rocks my world (check it out on youtube.com for a higher-rez version):

I went into the woods because ...

2008-09-23T16:13:00.000-07:00

... I wished to follow in the footsteps of Henry David Thoreau. Of course, he lived in the woods around Concord, MA, for two years. I spent about two hours there at Walden Pond. In any case, here is what I saw:

Above is a self-portrait (obviously) from a little ways up a hill from the cabin site. You can get a glimpse of the pond off toward the back left of the photo. The short wooden stakes in the ground represent the site of Thoreau's cabin.

This pile of rocks is to the left of the cabin site. This is what some people found in the early 1900s when the cabin site was first rediscovered. The sign quotes one of HDT's most famous lines from Walden: “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, And see if I could not learn what it had to teach and not, when I had come to die Discover that I had not lived.”

A bathhouse and shoreline make the pond a popular attraction for swimmers, sunbathers, and the curious.

This is a view of the lake from the south side, I believe. The bathhouse is to the left. The man at the far right of the photo had just gone for a dip in the pond. He had a tattoo (not pictured).

The perimeter of the pond attracts pedestrians of all sorts. This jogger sprinted past me as I sauntered on the dirt path.

This dragonfly was attracted to my pink skirt. I was able to zoom in on it. I used to catch these "baby dragonflies" (as I called them) in a net when I was a kid.

This is a re-creation of the Thoreau cabin. As you see, it is one room with a window on either side (to the right of the bed and the left of the green desk). There was also a small woodshed at the back of the cabin.

Here's a video of some of the sites and sounds on the path:

April is for appendectomies

2008-04-22T09:16:00.000-07:00

It all began with some Costco pizza on Friday night.

I had spent that Friday evening with my cousin Susie and her family. We had cheese pizza for dinner. I thought it didn't quite sit well after I ate it, but I put it down to indigestion. A few hours later, I was curled up in a ball in bed at 2 a.m., cursing that Son of a Seahorse pizza. But when I called my doctor at 7 a.m. Saturday, after five hours of pain all across my midsection that gradually migrated to my right side, she suggested appendicitis.

So I grabbed a book (The Kite Runner), my purse and cell phone, and I drove myself to the hospital (Alta View in Sandy). You may ask, Why did she not call an ambulance? Because just the day before, I sent off my final check to the Sandy City Fire Department to pay off the last ambulance ride I had in September (ah, kidney stones).

When I got to the ER without incident, I hobbled my way into triage. Thankfully, there was no one in the waiting room. A nurse got me set up in a room, and she began to take a history. Another nurse came in to mutilate my left arm. I mean, she came in ever so nicely to put in an IV and to take blood. The doctor came in, ordered some tests -- ultrasound and CT scan -- and diagnosed me at 1 p.m. with appendicitis.

I made some phone calls -- to my mom, boyfriend, my cousin, co-workers Katie B. and Ken K. (with whom I was supposed to have been in Albany on Sunday) -- and started removing my jewelry. Don't underestimate the challenge of removing earrings when you've got tubes coming out of your arm.

By 2:10 p.m., the surgery team had been called in from their on-call day off, and I was being wheeled into the operating room. I chatted to the nurse about cruises to alleviate some of my jitters. I've got some cool pictures if anyone wants to see my appendix or drugged-out face.

I was in recovery by about 3 p.m. My boyfriend had arrived, and I spent the rest of Saturday sleeping and taking trips to the bathroom (they take a lot longer when you have to unplug yourself from your calf-squeezers, move the IV drip holder, and have someone help you into a sitting position and finally out of bed).

I spent Saturday night in the hospital. Nurses came every hour, then every few hours to take my stats (temp, blood pressure, O2 level). I left at about noon Sunday, after convincing the nurses that I could keep food down (Percacet tends to make me queasy). I slept away most of Sunday and Monday. I am now resting somewhat comfortably at my cousin Susie's, where I will not be eating pizza anytime soon.

p.s. I'll post some photos soon.

I cut my hair!

2008-03-15T19:54:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, I tucked my hair behind my ears and thought it looked kinda cute. I began to wonder what I would look like with bona fide short hair. So, I decided next time I visited my cousin Mary in Vegas, I'd ask her to cut off my hair (which I have traditionally worn long for most of my life).

I wanted to grow it out a full 10 inches, so that I could donate it to Locks of Love, a nonprofit that makes wigs for children with cancer. But when I got to Vegas, I had only about 9 inches of hair, so I decided to give to a program sponsored by Pantene. My hair was long enough for that program. As you can see by the photo below, it was just a bit longer than a DVD case.

Sparkling in Salt Lake City

2008-01-02T15:11:00.001-08:00

December in Salt Lake City brings street festivals -- and ornaments -- to downtown. Phil and I walked around the city and saw the remains of a sustainable business event -- these dangling pretty things on a tree:

The visitor's center downtown (home of the journalists for the 2002 Olympics) has this round, black "reflecting pool" smack dab in the middle. Phil and I stood in the center of it, looked up, and saw ourselves hanging from the ceiling. Those rounded orange things are benches. My face looks weird because I am 1) wearing my glasses and 2) holding the camera up to my face:

Tu Tu Tu Tulsa

2007-11-02T20:21:00.000-07:00

Home to the (in)famous Oral Roberts University and to teen author S.E. Hinton, Tulsa, OK, has a few interesting sites. The most salient are the ginormous praying hands at the entrance to the aforementioned university. They took on a nice golden glow at sunset.

I hope this photo -- of my co-worker Amanda -- illustrates the enormity of the hands. I spent about 3 weeks working in Tulsa earlier this fall.

Not native to Tulsa was the Hershey Kiss-Mobile, which was parked at the neighbor hotel. I loved the bright purple.

Fall all over the place

2007-11-02T20:16:00.001-07:00

It is nearing the end of fall here in Salt Lake City. I think we peaked a few days ago. These photos are from my recent birthday.

I like how Halloween blends with the leaves falling. And being bagged....

Dandelions were still shooting up from the ground; till I plucked them, of course. :)

It was sunset as the light filtered through the trees at Liberty Park.

Geo-whatting?

2007-10-08T19:23:00.000-07:00

People who get a kick out of scavenger hunts may also enjoy geocaching — if they haven't already tried it. Phil and I (pictured above) tried it for the first time recently. Geocaching is a hide-n-seek sort of a game. There are a couple of different ways to start: by creating a cache of goodies to hide, or by going on a hunt to find goodies someone else has hidden. The world — literally — is your playing field.

Phil and I decided to hunt for some caches others had hidden around town. We started by doing some research at the (magnificent) library in downtown Salt Lake City, pictured above. We visited geocaching.com, typed in a SLC zip code, and wrote down the info we found: geographic coordinates (longitude and latitude), hints ("don't bark up the wrong tree"), and parking tips. Then, we used the bright yellow hand-held GPS device Phil acquired to enter those coordinates.

The GPS pointed us toward the east and south of the library. We hoofed if for a few blocks, all the while following the directions on the GPS. This was the first time either of us had used the device to find anything, let alone a geocache. We chatted excitedly about what might be in the cache and where exactly it might be located. We were walking past houses, office buildings, and tree-lined sidewalks.

We took a wrong turn or two before we came to an office building (closed on this weekend afternoon) with a raised garden in front of it. We snooped around the flowers and peeked under the shrubs that lined the perimeter of the building. I snapped pictures while Phil scrunched down on his knees to look in the myriad crooks and crannies surrounding us. Finally, I heard him give an exclamation. I turned to see what he had found.

It was an Army-green container hidden beneath a loose stone in the corner of the raised garden. I hurried over to see what was inside. We pulled out the contents carefully: stickers, temporary tattoos, a roll of dimes (for the parking meter), pencil erasers and other family-friendly knick-knacks. Also inside was the geocache's journal. In it, finders are expected to write a line or two about what they took out of the cache — and what they put in. I put in a frequent-diner card for a local Mexican restaurant.

Geocaching is popular the world over. Some cachers are so hard-core, they request that items they put inside the caches they create travel from state to state. Phil and I have not yet created — and hidden — a cache, but it's in our plans. Any ideas for items to stow away inside it?

Stoned in Salt Lake City

2007-09-17T09:30:00.000-07:00

Was it Carol Burnett or Bill Cosby who described giving birth as pulling your lower lip over your head? In any case. I haven't given birth. But I am in labor of sorts. I am trying to pass a kidney stone. It'll be my third since 2001. Here's the story:

I was all dressed up and ready to go to a contra dance about 6 p.m. Saturday. Drying my hair in the bathroom, I felt some cramping in my lower back. I thought maybe the recent sips of milk I just swallowed were not sitting well in my stomach. I ignored the pain for a minute or so. Then I started to feel clammy in my palms and I got the chills. I sat down and tried to breathe away the pain now ripping through my lower back and left flank.

I got up to look in the mirror, and my face was a sickly green. I did *not* look good. Beginning to panic, I called Phil, with whom I was supposed to go dancing. I told him I didn't feel well and I might go to an InstaCare. I hung up with him, grabbed my purse and headed down the stairs to my car. On the walk to my parking spot, I started to think maybe the InstaCare was closed. So I tried to think where there was a hospital. I am still so new to this area I was unsure.

I got into my car, breathing rapidly and trying to stave off the pain. I backed up and - oddly -- got a friendly wave from the woman who works in the apartment complex's office. I considered asking her where the hospital was, but I couldn't get it together enough to slow down and roll my window down. I pulled out of my complex and felt an enormous wave of pain go through me. I had to pull over immediately. I knew I didn't want to leave my car in front of the red fire hydrant, so I slowly re-entered my apartment complex, pulled into my spot, and called Phil to ask him if he knew where a hospital was. Then I changed my mind in the middle of that call and told him I had to call 9-1-1 now.

It was the first time I called 9-1-1 from my cell for a medical emergency for myself. I could hear my panting echoing in the receiver. I gave the operator my location and symptoms. At one point, I had to excuse myself to vomit in the bushes near the car. The pain was just crazy. She told me to stay in my car, turn on my hazard lights, and wait for the ambulance. She said she'd be with me on the phone till the medics were right with me.

I reclined my seat and turned up the A/C, leaving my door open. My hands were beginning to tingle, and my lower left leg felt a little numb. I tried to take deep, slow breaths, but I just couldn't. I sat panting in pain while I waited to hear sirens. Eventually, I did. It took perhaps 5-8 minutes.

The medics came, asked me some questions, and told me they were going to load me onto the stretcher. I told them I had a history of kidney stones. They started taking my blood pressure (I think it was 120 over 60) and heart rate (90). They felt my stomach, tapped my knees, then tapped my left shin. Ow! The pain resonated into the ache in my side. I heard a medic say it looked like a classic kidney stone. (That tap on my shin help explained why it was feeling numb earlier.)

One of the medics asked for my driver license. I told him it was in a pink walette in my purse. He told me he was just going to reach in and get it. He asked if there were any sharp objects in my purse, and if I used drugs. Uh ... no! He returned the wallet and then pulled my keys out of the ignition. I eyed them as he placed them next to my phone on the dash. The medics started helping me out of the car, and I told them anxiously that I left my keys and phone. They told me not to worry, that they would get them. I saw a medic on the passenger side of my car, the door open. I expected he would grab my phone and keys before he closed the door. So, upon habit, I pushed the lock when I got out of my side of the car. They put me on the stretcher, and I heard doors slam. I asked about my keys and phone. They were still in the car. No one grabbed them before I foolishly locked the door. I knew I wouldn't be able to call Phil for a while. I repeated an expletive when I realized what happened.

Now I was in the ambulance with a female and male medic, the latter on my left, the former on my right. She kept asking for my social security number. I tried to be clear and concise, but she had to ask me three times. I was getting annoyed with her. Besides, I was still writhing in pain. I heard the driver say, "Bump, then left turn." I felt that speedbump -- and the 3 or 4 more that followed - with a distinction I wish I never knew.

They asked me if I preferred one hospital over another. I told them I had IHC insurance. They gave me a couple hospital names, and I just lolled my head from left to the right, saying, "Whatever. I don't care."

I heard the man on my left say he was going to start an IV with morphine. The medics asked me which veins were best, and I told them the side one on my left because that's where I gave blood from in Florida. I started rambling and telling them how I was not successful about giving blood in Utah because of the dryness and I didn't drink enough water and.... They told me not to worry, that they would find a vein.

The medic settled on a vein in the center of the back of my left hand. I felt a little poke, all the while staring up at the metal ceiling of the ambulance. Someone had stuck a typed, all-capital sign that read: "ENJOY YOUR RIDE." Funny. The medic asked if I was allergic to anything. I gave my standard reply: "Not that I know of." The medic started with 2 units (cc's?) of morphine. He asked if I felt anything. Nope. He then told the female medic he would give me 3 more. He told me I should start to feel something.

My left arm felt it first. After the cool swoosh of liquid filled the back of my left hand, the morphine crawled up my left arm with a comforting warmth. That spread to the pain in my side, and I finally began to relax. It was such a relief to feel nothing. My breathing slowed, and I began to calm down.

The medics, communicative as ever, told me we had arrived at the hospital -- Alta View in Sandy. The medics wheeled me into ER room H. They brought the stretcher parallel to the bed and asked if I could roll onto it. With effort, I lifted my head, pushed away the dizziness, and scooched onto the white sheet. It was cold in there, and I shivered as I lay down. I was offered a blanket, which I eagerly accepted. It turned out to be *heated* - delightful! Shortly after, an intern came in to attach me to a blood pressure machine. Then the nurse came in, followed by myriad hospital workers to get insurance information, urine and blood samples, medical history, etc.

The procession eventually slowed down. I requested a phone to see if I could get ahold of my boss. I was expected to fly to Pennsylvania in the morning, and I wanted to give him a heads-up on my situation. Without my cell phone, I was useless. The only phone number I had in my head was my cousin, Susie's. I called her and tried to get her 12-year-old daughter to find the number of some co-workers in Provo, but they were unlisted (Lisa, Carol-lyn, are you reading this???). I also tried calling what I thought was the 800-number for my office, but no luck. In the end, I was unable to get ahold of any work people till the following morning. I was able to call Phil and let him know I was OK (relatively) and in the hospital.

I dozed for a bit and was happy to see a familiar face peek in my doorway. Phil came to sit with me and see me through the ordeal. After a while, the doctor came in and told me she needed to get a CT scan. I had to wait for the bag of saline - the one attached to my IV - to completely drip into my veins. It took about an hour.

Finally, the lab technician came in my room with a wheelchair. I was wheeled through the halls into the room that contained the huge, GE-made CT scan machine. I lay down and was told to put my arms above my head. The machine whirred around me as a recorded male voice told me to take a breath and hold it. I had to do this twice, as the first time around, the zipper from my skirt interrupted the imaging.

The lab tech told me the results should be ready in 15 minutes. I got back to my room, where Phil was waiting for me. He snoozed in the uncomfortable-looking plastic chair while I snoozed in the bed. After 90 minutes, the ER doctor came in to tell me she'd been fighting with the tech folks to get my results. Her shift was over an hour earlier, and she said she'd be passing my case along to her colleague.

She left, and about 30 minutes later, the other ER doctor came in. He told me I had a 2.5 mm stone toward the bottom of my ureter. He gave me prescriptions for Flomax, which helps relax the ureter and make the stone pass more easily; and for Lortab, a narcotic painkiller. That painkiller was to play a major role on Sunday. Soon after, the nurse, Frank, came in with my discharge papers. I found out he was from Pembroke Pines, FL. He high-fived me when he heard I was from South Florida, too. It was close to midnight when I left the hospital.

Phil, his friend Randy, and I drove home from the hospital. I made a phone call to a 24-hour locksmith -- Pop-a-Lock - because I still needed to get into my car. Greg got to my place about 10 minutes after Phil and I did. It took about 20-25 minutes for Greg to break into my car. Turns out the 06 Ion is a tricky one. Thankfully, the morphine was still in effect. Finally, I got into the car and was able to get to Walgreens to pick up my prescriptions.

I was fine for most of the night. Sunday morning, I woke up and prepared to head to the airport. I was about 10 minutes on the road when a fresh spasm stopped me in my tracks. I called some people at work to let them know I wasn't going to make the plane. The rest of the day was spent laid up in bed, snoozing in between doses of painkiller, Phil bearing the brunt of my writhings and wailings. (He was so good to me; went out and bought a strainer for my urine -- to find the stone; shopped for food; held my hand when I needed it.)

The worst part of the day was a little bit after lunch. The pain started to come back. I took a painkiller and waited the 15 or so minutes it took to kick in. The problem was it didn't kick in. I took a second. That one didn't kick in, either. I was in horrible pain, wriggling under the covers, balling up in the fetal position and groaning. All Phil could do was look at me with pain in his own eyes, knowing he couldn't do anything to help me. He did call the pharmacy to see if I could take a third painkiller. He was told I could take an ibuprofen, which I did. So, after about half-hour of burning aching agony in my flank, I calmed down.

A good amount of vomit showed up later that night, but that was the last of my torture. I spoke to my boss, who told me to go ahead and cancel my plane ticket to PA. Whew.

I woke up Monday morning without pain. I've been straining my urine all day to see if the stone has passed. I saw the urologist, who informed me there are two stones in my right kidney, as well. One of them is 3 mm. I am unhappy about that. I've been drinking water like a madman all day. That might become my life. The doctor told me I should drink enough water every day to that my urine is clear or pale yellow.

I am set to return to work tomorrow. I plan on taking the pain pills with me. And the strainer. :)

Howdy from Houston

2007-07-14T09:26:00.000-07:00

I was in Houston this past weekend, just hanging out. I'm working about 100 miles north for a few weeks but came to Houston to sight see. Also, I seem to recall there's a Panera Bread somewheres near here! And there's contra dancing. :) I attended a play downtown in the theater district (at the Alley Theatre) one night: Agatha Christie's Death on the Nile. It was all right. Of the 10 or so cast members, only one was really good: watchable, energetic and believable. (The one who played Jacqueline.)

I'm staying at the Omni Hotel, which is really sort of ritzy. But I find it a little user unfriendly. You have to tip for everything, there are people everywhere who want to help you with stuff -- front desk, concierge, door openers, bell boys. It's almost too much. They charge $3.50 for room service (plus the $14 the sandwich costs), and don't even offer free WiFi in the rooms. I am down in the lobby taking advantage of the free WiFi there. And if you want close parking, you have to pay $10 a day. I walk a bit farther to the free garage. I'm such a cheapskate. :) They did redeem themselves with breakfast. My room rate is 109 plus breakfast, and it was huge: yogurt, granola, fresh fruit, bagels, croissants, cheese, omelette. Also nice is the hotel is one mile from a huge green park called Memorial Park, where I can walk. My room view is pretty decent too.

Anyway. So here I am. Texas. It's quite a pretty state. Very green -- it reminds me a lot of Florida. Just after sunset, it cools down a bit, and the night bugs start to play their song. I am surprised to find myself really liking Texas. Once this trip is over, I'll have spent 7 weeks here this year.

That's all the news.

Been cheating

2007-07-03T20:56:00.000-07:00

All right. I will not be as lazy as I've been with posting and come up with something original. It is the eve of the anniversary of our country's birth, and I am in the middle of a drought here in Salt Lake City. Most residents are forbidden to light fireworks, but there are those who have smuggled in the contraband from Wyoming and other places. I've seen -- and heard -- some fuchsia lights echoing in the sky tonight.

I've had the week off work, and I've been puttering around here and there, and I've also been spending time with my cousin's kids. My new favorite place in town is Liberty Park (or is it Freedom Park?). It's great for walking or skating or just hanging out under a tree with a journal. It draws an eclectic crowd, and there are lots of activities: an aviary, volleyball court, open fields, picnic areas, a pool, tennis courts, and jogging and bike paths.

Some of my recent reading: Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell. It's ascerbic and fun. Hope for the Flowers by Trina Paulus. Rich and full of ah-hah moments. Desert Soliatire by Edward Abbey. This library book has been in my possession for about three months now; each paragraph is a poem. Just cracked open Are We Rome? by Cullen Murphy. Just finished The Stranger by Albert Camus, for my book club. This is a late existentialist book, and I found the main player hard to warm up to (I suppose this is the point?). According to a guest on the Diane Rehm show, existentialism has three major questions:

1. Can we trust reason?
2. What are we responsible for, if anything, as humans?
3. Is there a meaning that transcends history?

I am not prepared to answer any of those questions tonight. Frankly, I don't ponder them all that much. I hope to have something more interesting to say when I post about this book on my club's site!

Happy Independence Day to all, and to all a good night.

Pew says so

2007-06-21T13:40:00.000-07:00

I've had some down time at work this week, so I've been taking online quizzes. This one, by the Pew Research Group, asks questions then tells you what kind of Democrat or Republican you are. I'm almost textbook, looking at the "who you are" category. Here are my results:

Liberal
Based on your answers to the questionnaire, you most closely resemble survey respondents within the Liberal typology group. This does not mean that you necessarily fit every group characteristic or agree with the group on all issues. Liberals represent 17 percent of the American public, and 19 percent of registered voters.

Basic Description
This group has nearly doubled in proportion since 1999, Liberals now comprise the largest share of Democrats and is the single largest of the nine Typology groups. They are the most opposed to an assertive foreign policy, the most secular, and take the most liberal views on social issues such as homosexuality, abortion, and censorship. They differ from other Democratic groups in that they are strongly pro-environment and pro-immigration, issues which are more controversial among Conservative and Disadvantaged Democrats.

Defining Values
Strongest preference for diplomacy over use of military force. Pro-choice, supportive of gay marriage and strongly favor environmental protection. Low participation in religious activities. Most sympathetic of any group to immigrants as well as labor unions, and most opposed to the anti-terrorism Patriot Act.

Who They Are
Most (62%) identify themselves as liberal. Predominantly white (83%), most highly educated group (49% have a college degree or more), and youngest group after Bystanders. Least religious group in typology: 43% report they seldom or never attend religious services; nearly a quarter (22%) are seculars. More than one-third never married (36%). Largest group residing in urban areas (42%) and in the western half the country (34%). Wealthiest Democratic group (41% earn at least $75,000).

Lifestyle Notes
Largest group to have been born (or whose parents were born) outside of the U.S. or Canada (20%). Least likely to report having a gun at home (23%) or attending bible study or prayer group meetings (13%). 2004 Election Bush 2%, Kerry 81% Party ID 59% Democrat; 40% Independent/No Preference, 1% Republican (92% Dem/Lean Dem)

Media Use
Liberals are second only to Enterprisers in following news about government and public affairs most of the time (60%). Liberals’ use of the internet to get news is the highest among all groups (37%).

Dance Trance

2007-06-10T23:29:00.000-07:00

Just spent the weekend in Lexington, KY, at Dance Trance 07. This was a contra dance weekend full of high spirits, kickin' music, hoopin' and hollerin', experienced dancers and just plain fun. I danced a total of about 12 hours over the three days of the event. I truly believe I can't get much happier than dancing to such good music in such good company. My feet are totally sore, but my spirits are soaring even higher, so it's all good.

Happy dancing,

Danielle

paul-it-ticks

2007-05-31T21:30:00.000-07:00

Thanks, Keith, for this interesting quiz.

You are a
Social Liberal
(76% permissive)

and an...
Economic Liberal
(26% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Strong Democrat (26e/76s)

Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid
Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

My new Sound

2007-05-14T20:25:00.000-07:00

My new favorite radio show as I've been traveling so much is on Public Radio East, from eastern North Carolina. It's called:

The Sound
George Olsen
7:00PM - 12:00AM

I "listen live" and can hear this show, as well as my favorite all-time radio/news show, the Diane Rehm Show. My favorite radio/fun show is, of course, Wait! Wait! Don't Tell Me. This show, it turns out, is coming to SLC in May. Where will I be? Texas. Go figure. However, it does not have my dream team panel, which would be Roxanne Roberts, Paula Poundstone and Roy Blount Jr. How geeky am I that I have a WWDTM dream team? Anyone else have one???

From Deep in the Heart of Texas, Danielle

Great (Scott) Lake

2007-05-07T20:43:00.000-07:00

My friend Scott stopped in Salt Lake on his way back home to Florida after a 6-week jaunt across the States. His hair has grown by leaps and bounds since I first met him in the mid-90s. We visited Antelope Island at the Great Salt Lake, a first for both of us.

I am wrapped tight in my hoodie because tiny little black bugs (brine flies) were landing on -- and biting -- every uncovered inch of me.

Speaking of bugs. I used this repellent against the tiny ones. We tried to avoid these huge black beetles that raised their butts about to spray us with poison, though. At one point, Scott went to step on one, but I -- in a longwinded protest -- cried, "No! They are a vital part of the ecosystem!"

Don't ask me why this hand-print covered bull was there, facing the mountains to the east. I tried to tip it, though.

For those of you who haven't gotten up close and personal lately. Scott said this photo makes him "look old." (Was it mean to post this?)

The lake was beaufitul at sunset, and Scott took dozens of photos (he's a budding photographer). I requested he shoot this one of the boatless docks.

Springtime for giggles

2007-04-19T22:16:00.000-07:00

Work led to play in March when my job took me back to the East Coast. I got to spend the weekend with my best friend, Christy. This photo reminds me we can pick our friends, we can pick our noses, but we can't pick our friends' noses. Busch Gardens, Williamsburg.

Leonard Cohen tells us "there is a crack in everything. that's how the light gets through." This red rock is right at home in southern Utah. St. George, April 2007.

My Aunt Judy and I visited a little artists' colony outside Ivins, UT. She waited while I shopped in a gallery.

Easter Sunday brought high winds -- and kite enthusiasts -- to Ivins, UT.

The Mormons have a song that pays tribute to the "popcorn tree," whose blooms turns a cotton-candy pink come springtime.

Fire and Ice

2007-04-19T22:05:00.000-07:00

Imagine sitting in a 100-degree hot spring while icicles hang sharply from the poolside furniture an arm's reach away.

A full moon rises in the east as vacationing couples chat about their last skiing or white-water rafting trip.

A hoppin band plays as a roomful of contra dancers fill the floor for hours at a time.

To top it off, homemade lasagna, granola, and desserts fill your belly. That was my weekend in Lava Hot Springs, ID, for the annual contra dance weekend. I was so busy dancing, I didn't take any other pictures besides these ones at the springs!

The bandwagon

2007-03-26T13:16:00.000-07:00

Keith (linked above) sent me this one, and out of honest-to-God respect for our friendship, I am posting this survey:

Eight Songs I Am Diggin’ On Right Now:

"Nothing's Gonna Change my World" -- Beatles
"Mother Nature's Son" -- Beatles
"The Girl From Yesterday" -- Eagles
"Love Song to a Stranger" -- Joan Baez
"Southern Cross" -- CSN
"Chelsea Hotel" -- Leonard Cohen
"Mister Cellophane" -- John C. Reilly's version from latest "Chicago"
"Boulder to Birmingham" -- Emmylou Harris

If money were no object, what would you be doing with your life?

Spending long periods of time at national parks, kayaking, contra dancing, going to music festivals, visiting friends and family around the country.

Money is just that - an object, so why aren’t you doing it?

I do do this. Sometimes.

What’s better: horses or cows?

To eat, to ride, to eat, or to clean up after? My answer is horses.

What do you think the secret to happiness is?

That we are responsible for our own.

When was the last time you had a dream that you either remember well or did not want to awake from? Can you share a bit?

I dreamed last night I had a dog I had to find someone to care for while I was away on business. It occurred to me I should just give it away to a shelter or something, as it was causing too much stress in my life. I took the dream as an allegory ... for what I will not say.

When you were a little kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

An engineer, because that's what my dad was. Also a pathologist; I like to know the "why" of things.

Complete this statement: Love is…

there! (Just ask Hermann and Sally)

Can you tell a good story?

From a bad one? yup.

Can you remember your last daydream? What was it about?

Yes. NOYB.

If you were to thank someone today, who would you thank?

My colleague for giving me a ride to work.

A Room with a View, Part II

2007-02-06T12:09:00.000-08:00

This is my view in the morning of the Wasatch Range, part of the Rocky Mountains.

I've got my beautiful new couch all set up. It offers a view of the mountains when I lay on it. I usually open the curtains when I want to see them.

Hot tea and a banana shake rest on a tiny colorful table next to the couch. The beverages also like the view.

My bedroom right now has a new queen-size bed, curtains, and a quick and dirty bookshelf I set up. It needs some work. Guess what happens when I open the curtains?

My kitchen is bar style; the double sink is right in that middle area. I also have a washer/dryer behind those white doors to the left. In the forefront is my little dining table. When I do the dishes, I have a view...

A January Utah

2007-01-26T08:20:00.000-08:00

Coming in to work this morning, the fresh snow was falling. How lovely!

This icicle has been forming since I started work 3 weeks ago. A nearby tree is attached to the building, where the run-off from the roof has turned to ice.

Okemah, OK

2006-11-16T19:53:00.000-08:00

Okemah, OK, is the birthplace of one of my favorite folk musicians, the legendary Woody Guthrie. Each year, the town has a folk festival in his name. Guthrie is most famous for "This Land is Your Land," but has also written "Hobo's Lullaby," "The Grand Coulee Dam," and "Mail Myself to You."

Highland Cemetery, in Okemah, OK, was where I had hoped to find the grave of Woody Guthrie ... or at least a relative of his. No luck on that front. But I did catch the sunset.

I didn't think Oklahoma had trees. But it does.

Rocky Mountain highs

2006-11-16T19:38:00.000-08:00

Vail Pass, elevation 10666 feet, had fresh snow in late September. I was so excited I had to leave a handprint.

Besides seeing the first snow of the season, Colorado also showed me the first change of the trees. This path is in Boulder.

Clear Creek wound alongside the highway as I made my way from Grand Junction, Colo., to Boulder, Colo. It was a clear, sunny day, so I alighted from the car to dip my feet in ... and snap a shot of the sun glinting off the water.

Arches: an unexpected surprise

2006-11-16T19:12:00.000-08:00

I was tickled to see all the orange rock at Aches National Park near Moab, UT. I had no idea this place existed. Our country is so diverse! (See my post on Badlands to see another example of this diversity.) BTW, that is fresh snow on the Rockies in the distance.

Delicate Arch is a natural-forming rock formation in Arches National Park. I accidentally took the 90-minute hike to see it (I had planned for the 15-minute trek from the parking lot. I had only one bottle of water. Oops.)

The trail drew scores of guests to see the arch in the late afternoon sun. Europeans were especially numerous on the trail.

Yosemite: big trees, cold tents, steep falls

2006-10-27T16:37:00.000-07:00

Half Dome, at 8,842 feet, is perhaps one of Yosemite National Park's most famous structures. It is made of granite. I did not climb it.

I did, however, climb up to see Vernal Falls. These stairs were a happy sight, as they told me I was almost to the top!

Vernal Falls crash into the rocks below.

On the 2 hour-hike up to see Vernal Falls, this rainbow appeared in the mist.

From Glacier Point, I got a view down to the floor of the park, about 3,000 feet below.

This footbridge traverses the Merced River on the floor of Yosemite.

Stan was standing along the side of a path painting the wilderness with his wife (not pictured). They made such a serene scene that I asked to take a photo.

I slept on this twin bed in my canvas-covered wood-frame shack at Curry Village in Yosemite. It was chilly at night but I just stacked up the blankets. I was also so close to the cabin next door that I heard the man there snoring. Fun.

My choice of breads at one of the sandwich shops in the park.

Bear boxes to store food and other scented items (lotions, shampoo, deoderant, etc) remind visitors that bears are a serious problem in the park. Nothing with a scent was allowed in our tents or cabins -- or even cars.

In case a bear makes its way into one of the park's campgrounds, this bear trap may very well do the trick.

Mountain lions in the area prompted this sign, hanging on a yellow plastic police line blocking a trail.

I am always so enthralled with living things that are older than 100 years old. This tree at Sequoia Groves outside Yosemite National Park in California is hundreds of years old.

Reaching for the sky is this tall sequoia tree, in a grove outside Yosemite Park.

That Biosphere bubble thingy

2006-10-27T16:12:00.000-07:00

I was thrilled to read the street signs as I was leaving Tuscon, AZ, announcing my proximity to Biosphere 2.

I vaguely remember hearing about the eight scientists who voluntarily chose two years of confinement in this experiment that tested to see if life on the moon would work.

I got to sit at the table that the volunteers ate at, walk the boardwalks within the bubble, and feel and breathe the air inside the tropical and desert atmospheres.

One area simulated the ocean and its inhabitants, including conch shells. This huge shell sat in a sand box in the kid's area.

BTW, Biosphere 1 is Earth.

Kayaking Aialik Bay - yow-zah!

2006-10-10T07:22:00.000-07:00

Go kayaking in Alaska. Now.

The day began about 8 a.m. Our group of 8 paddlers plus 2 guides left Seward on a water taxi that took us the 90-minute ride through Resurrection Bay to Aialik Bay.

It was a chilly, cloudy and rainy day as we headed out to view the glacier. I wore layer upon layer of clothing, including this newly purchased blue scarf. I was cold.

This glacier gives true homage to the words "ice blue." It really is blue! The glacier was actively "calving," dropping huge chunks into the water. Each time the ice shifted, it sounded like thunder. The chunks were so huge, they caused waves as they splashed hundreds of feet into the bay below.

Just a little glacier humor. At 1.3-miles wide, Peterson Glacier was impressive. I had trouble conceiving its size, verbalizing to our guides that if they put something familiar -- such as a cat -- near the face of the glacier, I would better be able to grasp the size. I will now be known as the cat lady, or something of the sort, as the guides thought that was the funniest thing they ever heard. Hah.

We set up camp on a rocky black beach during a chilly rain. Thankfully, the skies cleared that night and for Day 2.

On the second day, Alaska showed off its bright blue skies, sparkling waters, and gargantuan green mountains.

Here I am, relaxing on the stony beach after a breakfast of oatmeal and banana.

We followed a bear path to the side of the island where the kayaks were stored for Day 2 of our trip. We made lots of noise, calling out "Hey bear!" and ""Stay away, bear!" to avoid startling any bears that might be nearby. Apparantly, bears have bad hearing, and they don't like to be surprised. The green floor of this path was spongy and soft, slurping up our feet as we walked.

That's my paddle-partner, Josh, behind me on the beach. We had to wear apron-type shields called splash guards, so the water wouldn't flood our kayaks -- or freeze us to death. Very different from Florida kayaking! We had just taken a pit stop to snack, snap photos, and relieve ourselves on the beach ("as close to the tide line as possible").

The water sparkled this second day. Our group paddled through iceburgs as green and rocky mountains rose on either side of us. Bald eagles, otters, berry-seeking bears, and playful seals were our landscape-mates.

Here's the intrepid crew. We had yoga instructors, computer techs, and Realtors among our group. This was my first time to Alaska, and I know it is certainly not my last.

Weeks earlier ... in Canada*

2006-09-11T23:34:00.000-07:00

Victoria, BC, was bright and sunny during this holiday in August. Even visitors from galaxies far far away stopped by for some good company ... and music.

This man tickled me. He's got this great Australian/Scottish/English accent happening, and he was selling copies of his self-narrated memoirs. I bought the CD.

This French-Canadian artist now lives in Victoria. She had lots of neat pictures, but something about the one she is holding attracted me. It's a woman, dancing and holding the moon as if it were a balloon.

You gotta love those Canadians. I mean, really. I couldn't resist his P.O.O.P shirt. He told me it stands for People Opposed to Outflow Pollution. You can follow their movements (their pun, not mine) from the photo of Mr. Floatie, below.

*I went to Victoria in the beginning of August, and Mexico (next post) in early September, so the posts are a little off.

Mexican Holiday

2006-09-11T23:11:00.000-07:00

The signs at the Douglas, AZ/Aqua Prieta, MX, border remind visitors that guns and ammo are not allowed.

Neither, it would seem, are shopping carts. It is common, one assumes, for Mexicans to walk across the border into Arizona to do their shopping, leaving their carts at the "door" upon re-entry.

My college friend Carl, rests his elbow upon our lunch table as I -- amazed by the Coca-Cola bottles -- capture them on film.

I love taking pictures of signs, and here's yet another. Now I know how to say "stop" in Spanish. Whoo-hoo!

I made the mistake of looking this street vendor in the eye as I crossed the street. He was asking $3 for those trinkets dangling from his wooden shelf. As if.

The ancient Indian figure of Kokopelli always draws my attention. This mural advertises a hotel in a drab-looking part of town.

The sidewalks in this small border town are kooky as all get out. At driveways and corners, they can drop off about a foot. Here, Carl illustrates the depth of the step.

In a gazebo centered in a town park, someone has drawn this jester and written some names underneath. It's not the funniest or most aesthetic graffiti I've seen, but it interested me nonetheless.

Spanish advertising gets my goat. I get sucked in by the tacky pictures, since the words don't hold immediate meaning. Somehow, this makes foreign ads more fascinating.

These boys just happened to be loitering in front of the "children crossing" sign behind them. I didn't notice the one looking into the camera till I downloaded the images to my computer.

This is a typical street sign in the town I visited. Cars parked along the side of the road, pharmacies on the corner, people chatting with friends outside of shops.

Alaska floats my boat!

2006-08-31T02:42:00.000-07:00

I loved Alaska to death! Here are only a handful of photos of my trip. I've included ones from my travels excepting my kayak trip to Kenai Fjords. I'll do a separate post on those, since that was the highlight of my trip in many ways.

In the meantime, here are some photos to whet your appetite. BTW: The boats above were docked in the southern port town of Seward, stopping place for many cruise ships.

Anchorage, besides having a coffee shop on every corner (that's where I got the Starbucks in my hand), proudly displays some local wildlife artifacts on its streets. This moose probably poses with hundreds of tourists every day. The fish, below, is smack in the middle of downtown. It is one of many designed by local artists.

Train travel is one of the only ways to go in Alaska if you don't have your own car. There's really only one main highway that runs north/south from Seward to Fairbanks. I took the train on a few different trips. This one ran from Seward to Anchorage.

On my northbound train ride, I snapped about 100 photos of mountains, glaciers, snow-capped mountains, and creeks.

Seward, below, was my home for 3 days and nights. Two of those days were rainy, gray, cold, and generally miserable. The third day of glory made up for it all. The sun shone brightly, the water sparkled, the mountains stood green and proud over the landscape. It was one of those days God hand tailors.

One of my toursity activities included a visit to the Sea Life Center in Seward. There, this 2,000-lb sea lion teases visitors.

This sign at the Sea Life Center speaks for itself:

http://www.alaskasealife.org/

One of my train trips took me north to the small town of Talkeetna. There, I met some fellas from the Maryland area. We walked around the small town together and took in the sights, including this real-live reindeer!

I chilled out for awhile on this washed-up log on the banks of the Talkeetna River.

Someone had carved into the log "I love Danielle." Did you doubt I would take the photo?

VC: Andrews, right?

2006-08-10T05:21:00.000-07:00

This post has nothing to do with my travels. Well, trangentially, if anything.

I was driving along Hwy 101 in the Olympic Peninsula recently, and I was talking to myself (as often happens with solo travelers). It occured to me I could be rattling off utter nonsense, and no one would be the wiser. So, I started rattling off some nonsense words, just for the fun of it. That led me to wonder how much I knew about the Vietnam War. I have no idea why this topic in particular sprang up. I think some of the nonsense words may have sounded like a term from that war.

So, I began to brainstorm: What facts did I know about the Vietnam War? Here's what I came up with. (I did not use the Internet or any resource books.) It's not impressive.

* South Vietnam was communist and wanted North Vietnam to be communist, too.

* It started for the U.S. when Kennedy sent some troops over in 1963 to help settle things down in the region. (I got this from the movie "Dogfight.")

* The draft was established, leading folks to burn draft cards and flee to Canada (I know this in part from the musical "Hair")

* Vietcong was the name for the ... bad guys?

* The Ho Chi Minh trail was ... something. (You could be on the "right side" of the HCM trail, as Baby's sister remarked to her in the movie "Dirty Dancing")

* Ho Chi Minh was a leader.

* Our troops trained in Parris Island (I learned this from the Billy Joel song).

* It was a "dirty little war," with U.S. troops confounded by all the foreign, jungle-like terrain. (Quote from "Hair")

* U.S. troops burned villages, killing women and children (I've seen this in lots of movies)

* Charlie was the name for ... the enemy?

* Prostitution was rampant among Vietnamese women and U.S. soldiers (got this from "Miss Saigon" as well as movies)

* Little babies were born who had American fathers and Vietnamese mothers.

* The South won the war, and U.S. troops eventually withdrew.

* It ended sometime in the early 1970s -- 73, maybe? I think Ford was president. (I know this because our family was in Canada from 1967-1973. Coincidence? Hmmmm)

* The rock opera "Hair" was written in direct response to the war.

* Oliver Stone commented on it in his movie "Platoon." That was his, right?

* Some South Vietnamese fled the country and came to the U.S. (A girl in my high school had done this with her family.)

OK. So that's about the extent of it. You'd never have gotten this glimpse into my ignorant mind if I were sleeping like I should be at 1:18 a.m.

Good night.

GNP: The cold one

2006-08-07T02:52:00.000-07:00

Glacier National Park made all other places look dreary. The park is in northern Montana on the border of Canada. Snow-capped mountains, cool breezes, wildflowers, streams, clear blue skies and zoo animals wandering about mark this park.

Above is Jackson Glacier, which started its "retreat" in about 1860, scientists hypothesize. If the Earth keeps on this heating pattern it seems to be on, some scientists predict many glaciers will rapidly melt and disappear in the next few decades. So I decided to take a trip north to catch 'em before they're gone.

These mountain goats, belonging to the deer family, take little notice of humans climbing the mountain alongside them. These creatures were munching the grasses on the mountains at Logan's Pass.

It took a swervy, curvy 45-minute drive to reach the Pass, above. Then I hiked, yes hiked, in my flip-flops about 1.5 miles to see ... the other side of the mountain basically. I made some new friends, though, pictured here, in addition to my sore tootsies.

These weary feet brought me through Logan's Pass. I believe I actually broke a toe walking this path. Flip-flops are not the GNP-approved list of footwear for hiking, methinks.

Lake McDonald is the longest lake at Glacier National Park; it's surrounded by mountains, providing spectacular sunsets and ogling opportunities. I camped at the nearby KOA for two nights. One day, I went whitewater rafting (this is swiftly becoming a favorite activity of mine). The other I spent exploring GNP.

Don't feed the animals:And just in case you were unsure, the park rangers want you to know you are not alone in the woods:

Montana on my mind

2006-08-07T02:10:00.000-07:00

But what is it?: I saw many signs for the Continental Divide on my journey, starting in South Dakota. This one is on Highway 90 approaching Bozeman, Montana. I still don't know what it is, exactly. (The divide, not Bozeman.) It appears to occur in various different places. Someone in Wisconsin told me that part of the water in neighborhoods flows into the Mississippi and in other parts it flows into the Atlantic because of the Continental Divide. But is it one thing? Many things? Cracks in the Earth? Where was I during Earth science class?

He's big. He's Mike: Gotta love this sign in front of the Museum of Natural History in Bozeman, MT. Below is the Mike referred to. I believe I also saw the largest T-rex skull in existence (yet) at this museum. (I know it was the largest, I just don't recall if this was the museum or not. ("Seen one, seen 'em all" is setting in.)

Drive on: Besides being the home to the first food co-op I've ever visited, Bozeman also is home to this driver, with an eclectic collection of bumper stickers.

Life lesson: I left my camera's battery charger in the time share in Vegas, so I was without a camera for a short while. (I missed photographing Yellowstone National Park, sadly.) I eventually swallowed my pride and bought a couple of throwaways. These I used to shoot the Lewis and Clark Caverns about 30 miles west of Bozeman. The caverns hover at around 55 degrees and, at one point, I was a mile above sea level while still being underground. I saw one bat. Oh, the life lesson? Pack an extra battery. A charged one.

As a point of interest: Bozeman is the one-time home of dry-humored NPR commentator and author of "Take the Cannoli" Sarah Vowell. If you've seen The Incredibles, you will recognize her voice from the character "Violet."

Guess the state

2006-08-06T23:11:00.000-07:00

Wheat from the fields in this state comprise the second largest crops in the country.

"Indians, fur traders, military expeditions and settlers" traveled here, according to a historical marker at this site.

Some people I spoke to who live in this state called this area a desert.

Warning! The photo below might be a dead giveaway for those who have not guessed the state yet. I will tell you the answer in the "comments" part of this posting.

I was totally excited to see these apples at a grove off the highway. Of course, I had to stop and take a photo. I didn't steal any fruit, though.

Yellowstone ... it is, really

2006-07-31T22:49:00.000-07:00

Yellowstone National Park was notable on two fronts: I was with my cousins, and I didn't have my camera. OK. Some of you may have been expecting something more notable. Sorry to disappoint.

We visited volcanic mud flats. They smelled of sulphur, in a very bad way. Some of you with well water may know the smell I mean. Also there was the yellow stone the park is named after. Clever, no?

We spent a good amount of time trying to figure out if we were seeing bison or buffalo on the side of the road. I think we concluded they were bison, but I still don't know. Maybe some of you with strong stomachs can tell from the droppings, below.

The people you meet in Vegas...

2006-07-24T15:09:00.000-07:00

In Vegas, I crashed with my cousin Julie for about a week. You see her pictured with her friend Steve (aka Cowboy aka Redneck Jr.). I lost no money in this financial capital of sorts, as I did no gambling. I did, however, lose some dignity while singing Tits and A** from A Chorus Line karaoke at a local pub.

At said pub, I ran into this girl of the many piercings. I don't know if it was goth night or what, but most patrons were dressed in black.

Here's another fella I met. I can't remember his name, but he sang karaoke pretty well, and also performs in a band that allegedly has gigs in California.

In other Vegas news...
While in Vegas, I also experienced a stomach virus that "couched" me for a day and a half; I sprained my foot on a flip-flop going down the stairs, necessitating crutches for a few hours; and I endured the hottest freakin part of my trip so far. In Vegas, it reached higher than 100 degrees. It was oven hot.

So hot... that I had to actually get a new windshield. I had cracked my glass originally coming out of Montana on a mountain road. Then, the heat of Vegas caused the crack to grow to about a foot long. The tatooed man from the auto glass place made it clear that he "did not release" any photos to me, so I have avoided showing his face.

Word to the wise: When in Vegas, or any excrutiatingly hot area, crack your windows when parked.

Wyoming

2006-07-13T14:40:00.000-07:00

It goes on and on and on.

Dead Presidents, Close Encounters, and Holy Snow!

2006-07-13T13:53:00.000-07:00

Mount Rushmore, from its role in movies, seems enormous -- huge, bulking faces peering down at the lowly peasant groveling in awe. My first glimpse came from a ski lift about 3 miles away, and my trip up the mountain on the wavering chair was more impressive than the stony politicians (oxymoron? I think not). The ride in the chair actually scared the pants off me, possibly accounting for my blase attitude toward Rushmore.

Rushmore did not meet my expectations. I did visit Vegas recently, and the Bellagio has a Rushmore exhibit, as well. See if you can tell which one is the Real Rushmore from the photos.

Near Mount Rushmore is the Crazy Horse memorial, which honors the memory of the Lakota Indian leader who famously said, "My lands are where my dead lie buried." An Army officer killed him with a bayonet near the kidney while the Indian was resisting arrest, according to Wikipedia. The folks at the memorial maintain he was killed while his back was turned.

The vast grounds -- again in the Black Hills -- contain an artists' colony, where native Americans sell such various wares as handmade flutes, necklaces and colored pencil drawings. I bought the latter off Michael, below, who spoke extensively (and meanderingly) of the "pipe" and the power of women.

From the Black Hills (which, incidentally, aren't black), I drove through Deadwood (HBO series *and* last resting place of Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickok -- how cool is that???). The cemetery there is full of famous dead people.

I admit to becoming something of a Calamity Jane-o-phile, ever since I read Larry McMurtry's Berrybender book series.

Off topic: The Book on Tape is narrated fabulously by Alfred Molina, who can pull off Mexican, British, Southwest, and French accents like a wizard. You've seen Molina in Raiders of the Lost Ark, Enchanted April, Frida, My Life Without Me, and Spider-Man 2. All right, here's a picture from www.cinema.com:

Another image from the movies is Devil's Tower, made popular in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. (As a child, I thought this was the third film in a trilogy. Seriously.) It's in the northeast corner of Wyoming, near the Belle Fourche river. It's a geographic marvel, surrounded by trees and plains full of prairie dogs, oddly enough. I saw no aliens, but, frankly, I forgot to look for them. It was hot out.

I next drove the length of Wyoming (a long, hot drive in June) to get to Laramie, in the southeast corner of Wyoming. Pictured is the downtown Laramie bar where Matthew Shepard, I am told by friends there, met with the men who would take his life. FYI: http://www.matthewshepard.org/

Upon leaving the hamlet of Laramie, I headed southwest toward Utah. I took a meandering route that led me through Medicine Bow National Forest, near the Wyoming/Colorado border. What a delight to behold snow in July!

I stopped along with other tourists to take in the snow-capped countryside and tickle my flip-flopped toes in the snow there. This was July 1st! I was *loving* it.

Baaaadlands

2006-06-29T18:22:00.000-07:00

My first thought when I saw these erosion-formed crags of land was, "What the (heck) is this?" I had no idea such things existed on Earth, let alone the Midwest.

The Badlands are just south of Interstate 90 heading west toward Rapid City (Mt. Rushmore, etc.). The French explorers dubbed the trecherous land "mauvaises terres" (badlands) because they were so hard to cross. According to the information center, crocodiles (or alligators, they weren't clear on this) and the predecessor to horses roamed the area at one point. I also learned that these formations were probably not here 500,000 years ago. Scientists think the area was a great salt sea that dried up, leavng soft rock and land that is easily eroded. The Badlands, they say, may not even be here in another 500,000 years. So you better jump into your cars and start driving, friends!

I captured this cow on (digital) film along a side road heading into the infamous town of Wall, S.D., just north of the Badlands. It was a beautiful sunset drive and I couldn't resist framing the cow. Long live the bovine!

This man, pumping my gas - you'll see why below -- was in the middle of asking me where I was from when I took this shot. He lives in the town of Interior, which is the middle of the Badlands. He's lived in California, Florida and elsewhere, but chose Interior because the climate suits him, and he likes the solitude. In the town of Interior, there is a post office, grocery (with lots of little liquor bottles), school, communications utility, playground, bar, church and some houses.

The grocery boasts one of the two gas stations in town. This one is comprised of a tank atop the bed of a pickup truck. The pump does not stop automatically, so you have to feel for it, or the gas will splosh all over you. I witnessed a man in a blue SUV get his hand drenched in gas. Fortunately, I got a little help at the pump.

House on the Rock

2006-06-29T17:54:00.000-07:00

About an hour outside Madison lies the brainchild of Alex Jordan: House on the Rock. This man built his house within the rocks among the hills of Wisconsin. I wasn't expecting much, and was delightfully surprised at the expertise and attention to detail that went into this attraction.

Instead of springs or wood underneath the couch cushions is ... rock.

The long skinny walkway is called the Room of Inspiration. It hangs over the trees and rocks below, affording views of the surrounding countryside. I found it harrowing to walk all the way to its point, but I persevered, pushing my fear aside. My feet and hands were sweating the entire time! The top photo shows the walkway from the ground. The bottom shows it as I did, walking shakily to its end.

Much-anticipated Logansport, Ind.

2006-06-29T17:36:00.000-07:00

I chilled in Logansport for about a week visiting a friend there. Once a bustling railroad town, due to the convergence of the Wabash and Eel rivers, it seems now to be home of farmers, Pepsi workers, and mental hospital employees. I found the roosters roosting on a John Deer tractor amusing, as well as the walnut grove.

Coming soon...

2006-06-23T09:52:00.000-07:00

Logansport, Ind., population 20,000.

F Cubed (Mad.)

2006-06-23T09:19:00.000-07:00

Three thrilling experiences on my first night camping in Madison, Wisc., included the following:
frigid temperatures;
food poisoning; and
frat-style neighbors.

The low was 58 degrees last night. I am used to that in February in Florida. But it's the second day of summer!!! So I had to put on a T-shirt, long-sleeved hoodie, gray sweatshirt, and blue sweater. On top of that, I snaked into my sleeping bag and covered my head with my pillows. (The latter is not necessarily a new act on my part, but in this case it helped with the cold as well as the potential light.)

IHOP was one of the few eateries open at the time I was hungry, so I went and ordered some scrambled eggs, sausage and English muffin. One of those things did not a happy gastronomical choice make. At about 1 a.m., I had to cross the 200-foot or so camp area to reach the restroom in time. Did I mention it was 58?

Though bedsheets and beer were not playing major roles in my camping neighbors' shenanigans, country music and Bad Company were. I politely asked them about midnight to lower the music. The woman, who appeared to be with her daughter, said she could do that. I put in my earplugs and tried to sleep. I could still hear the music, and the talking. It's like they were at a crowded Thanksgiving Day table and had to shout to be heard. They finally settled down around 2 a.m.

I settled down around 2:45 a.m., only to be woken up by my cell phone ringing at 8 a.m. I have hopes tomorrow will be better. The neighbors have moved out, I will avoid IHOP, and the lady who runs the camping facility has offered me a blanket. Life is good.

Who'd have thunk it?

2006-06-12T06:34:00.000-07:00

North Georgia turns out to be stunning! It also is home to Tallulah Gorge, at 900 feet, the "deepest canyon east of the Mississippi." I asked a fellow tourist to snap my photo. In turn, I snapped his. I think both photos have unique aesthetic qualities.

Some of the unique wares at the falls are pigs who don't:

My backroads choice led me on a journey to the Smokey Mountains, on my way to Knoxville, Tenn.

This is a bridge in Cherokee, N.C., an uber-touristy area run by Native Americans. I thought it was pretty in the afternoon light:

Corbin, Ky., a few miles from I-75, is "where it all began" for Col. Sanders. The original recipe chicken I chowed down on from the "Colonel's Cafe" -- which boasts the real kitchen he used to make his finger-lickin fowl -- tasted just like any I've ever gotten in South Florida, but I felt a greater sense of pride eating it. Tee hee.
http://www.chickenfestival.com/sanders.htm

Corbin, Ky., BP station attendants should be commended for their signmaking, as these notices show:

Valdosta, Ga. or ... A Room with a View

2006-06-09T05:21:00.000-07:00

If you've seen the movie "Wayne's World," you will know the exact bland, unexcited voice with which Wayne announces: "Hi. I'm in Delaware."

That being said ...

"Hi. I'm in Valdosta."

It's a stopping point on my way to Kentucky for some contra dancing. I hope it won't be bland and unexciting. I'm currently enjoying a breakfast of banana, coffee, and whole wheat bagel. The bagel is bland. :)

See you on the road!

d

p.s. The photo at top is the view from my hotel room off I-75. Below is untitled.

p.p.s. Yay! I am finally out of Florida!!!!! It's been *years* since I have actually driven out of the state. :)

F Cubed (Florida Folk Festival)

2006-05-28T19:20:00.000-07:00

What weekend is complete without music, dance, food, and tattoos? Not mine!

My friend Ruth and I journeyed to the Florida Folk Festival in White Springs over Memorial Day weekend for all those delights. Below is some documentation to support my claims.

This colorful sign greeted us upon entry to the festival.

Ben Prestage knocked my socks off. He was playing a box guitar made out of broom handles held together "with a radiator hose clamp," he informed the crowd. His sound is bluesy and raucous, fun and affable. Sadly, his CDs were sold out by the time I "discovered" him at the festival. Learn more at www.benprestage.net

No folk festival worth its salt would skimp out on dancing. Here, novices and experts do a little Cajun two-step.

Various churches around the area of White Springs collared up the greens, fried chicken, squash, sweet tea, fried okra, cornbread, pecan pie, bbq ribs and other goodies to fill our tummies. Can you say Southern comfort food?

Ahh. The henna tattoo. Perfect for those with commitment issues. Goes on painlessly, disappears in less than 2 weeks.

Creatures on the Farm

2006-05-23T10:44:00.000-07:00

Here is a sampling of some of the animals, plants, and insects I see here in Fort McCoy, Fla.

A fluffy-legged rooster loiters near the wire fence.

Various fowl include ducks, geese, and chickens.

Baby turkeys hungrily wait for breakfast.

Fat-bottomed geese drink from the refreshing green pond.

Horses Stormy, Star, and Noel live in the barn at night and in the paddock in the day.

Various flowers embellish the garden.

Is their bark worse than their bite? I don't want to find out.

A drowned dragonfly rests in peace in the above-ground pool.

"Bub" is the patriarch of the family.

Watersports in Gator Country

2006-05-23T09:49:00.000-07:00

With 3 alligator attacks in Florida in the past few weeks, you'd think sensible people would avoid freshwater lakes and rivers. I have not been sensible this week!

I've been staying in Fort McCoy, Fla., for the past week, visiting high school friends Lisa and Dan and their 3 little boys. They have a boat that they take on the various lakes in this central Florida locale. I trusted fishing-and-boating-enthusiast Dan's judgment on our chances of getting eaten by alligators, which he said were pretty slim. (And slim just took the last bus out of town.) And since I am alive to type this blog, I guess my trust was not misplaced.

I tried my hand (and legs) at waterskiing and tubing in Lake Kerr. I'm much better at the latter (because all you do is sit on a tube while the boat drags you along!). This was only my second attempt at water skiing, and as the photo shows, I still don't know how to do it. We kept the boat in the middle of the lake, far from the grasses and trees alligators tend to frequent.

We also took a sunset cruise of the Silver River, which leads into Silver Springs. This tourist attraction is in Ocala proper, and used to be the home of flamboyant water ski shows and ... monkeys. We didn't see any monkeys, but I'm told they live in the trees surrounding the river and spring. I did see an alligator sunning itself on a log, egrets, herons, loads of fish, and many many bugs. (The photo of me hiding in my gray sweatshirt shows how I tried to avoid them.) We deftly avoided the 3 or 4 alligators we saw floating like dark logs near the banks of the river.

The payoff for the hour-long foray thru the alligator- and insect-ridden river was the clear blue waters of Silver Springs, through which we saw fish such as garr and "cleaners," which basically act as vacuum cleaners. We glimpsed the bottom of the spring, from which fresh water bubbles up from the Earth. Hence, Silver "Springs." Another visual treat were the hundreds of birds roosting in the trees as the sun set. They nervously flew about as our boat's motor came into earshot, but settled down again to "pose" for some photos.

My time in this part of the state has definitely fed the nature-loving part of my soul!

brushfires a -burnin'

2006-05-16T05:56:00.000-07:00

The flashing sign on I-95 north of Cocoa, Fla., did not sway me from the interstate. After all, the supposed traffic information channel, 1600 AM, was happily playing Latino music. Local FM stations were not interrupting Sheryl Crow to tell me about any possible closures ahead. And, the capper: The blond clerk in the automotive travel department at the Melbourne branch of AAA told me earlier in the day that, no, there are no closures on I-95 today, would you like a bag for your travel books? A bag? No. A firehose? Possibly.

About 1/4 mile south of the Edgewater exit, it became clear that the billowing orange cloud I had been seeing for the past hour was not a thunderstorm but yes, indeed, a brush fire raging just to the west of I-95 in Edgewater.

I shot these pictures from my car as I waited to exit the highway using a Canon digital camera. The shot of the trailer is from Federal Highway, to which we northbound drivers were detoured. The wind was blowing east toward the ocean.

Port St. Lucie, Fla.

2006-05-14T05:37:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up and officially had no place to live; rather, no place to live that I owned. The final walk-thru was yesterday. But the bed at my sister's place here in PSL was comfy, and I had my cat with me, so all was right with the world.

All my personal belongings are scattered throughout my sister's house and in my car. I no longer own a bed, a couch, a kitchen table, a desk, or a bureau. I look around my sister's house and see silk plants, end tables, throw pillows, and corner shelves I've given up. It is eerie in a way; it's like inheriting goods from a relative who's now gone "beyond."

I plan on hitting Melbourne and the Ocala area in the next few days before coming back to PSL to work on some projects and housesit for my sister.

Side note: I just noticed the mousepad at my sister's place; it's obviously one she used at work. It's plain blue with her name written with a black pen. Under her name, she has written, "If found please turn into Security." Why bother?

packing

2006-05-05T12:03:00.001-07:00

One wall of my living room now looks like this. To be accurate, this is no longer my living room. I closed on the condo yesterday. I'm staying thru the week, then I am off to grub off family and friends for a while! Looking forward to seeing everyone... on the road.

dp

test

2006-04-21T16:34:00.000-07:00

I will look upon this post ages and ages hence, and I will laugh.

7:32 p.m. Deerfield Beach, Fla.