Reflection Upon A Spider's Web

I'll admit it.

It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to get all wrapped up in my own personal and oft pretend business and busy-ness. Just as my worries are about to escalate, I find that I can be completely leveled in awe and admiration for Nature's beauty that surrounds us, like I was this morning by the delicate intricacies of a spider's great web, framed in dew. For at least 30 seconds, I allow myself this humble distraction, appreciating the beauty and perfect symmetry in form and function of Mother Nature's use of Fibonacci’s numbers.

Feeling refreshed with renewed perspective, I head back towards the house.

But first, I'll spend the next five minutes looking for bugs to throw into Ms. Spider's web.

...who says there's no free lunch once in a while?...

Farewell and Ado to Ye Fair Spainish Maiden...

Brian has been boat browsing online lately, the same way I used to “shop” for a dog in Alaska. He thinks he’s just doing price comparisons, but I can see the love/lust in his eyes. I know the various files he’s built with photos and Web links to his latest boat girlfriend of the week. There’s no holding him back now. Do I feel threatened? Not at all. I’ve already told Brian that when I’m on board, I pull Alpha Girlfriend Status. But otherwise, I think it’s all very cool. I love boats and the water, and the whole prospect is quite exciting. I’ve always enjoyed boat-people culture. Brian’s been teaching me about the different kinds of boats, walk-arounds vs. center-counsel. Some have plastic tops, some have bimminy (canvas) tops that stretch shade over the Captain. Then of course, there’s your port/starbird and bow/stern. Watch me work the lingo. Maybe one day, I’ll be a Real boat-person…

Lo and behold, Brian surprises me last Sunday by telling me we bought a boat. Really?! Let’s see! We had to go pick it up in Vancleave, a 20 minute drive north of us. He scored a major deal on it, paying only half of its retail value. It’s been ever-so-gently used and comes with its own marine battery, engine, and two paddles. Paddles?

Surprise! It’s a canoe. So, for the moment, we’re more like canoe-people.

We already took our new member of the family out on her maiden voyage in the Davis Bayou. It’s nice! A green Pelican, with three seats, each with its own drink holder for your beer! Or soda. The motor is a nice perk, for those times when you just want to get back to shore because low-lying clouds and lightening are closing in. Here, Brian is trying to figure this boat motor for the first time, trying to screw it on without it falling in the water, and in typical Marlena-fashion, I’m asking him all these unrelated questions, like, “Did you and the girls ever get rained on when you went boating?” “Will a motor short-out if it gets rained on?” …“Are there alligators in here?” “Do you think an alligator could tip a canoe? What if it really wanted to?” “Did you see that big splash?” …”Brian, it’s lightening over there. Should we turn back?” “Look at those monster clouds! They look like burnt marshmallows!” “Would you take a bite out of that cloud if it were made of burnt marshmallows?”

It was a short boat ride, but at least we know everything works! We were able to get her out of the water before the skies opened up. Unfortunately, there’s a little more that’s goes into packing up a canoe for the day, beyond getting it out of the water. I’ve already learned my first marine lesson. Tying a boat up is no more fun in the rain than being stuck on a boat in the rain.

I love it though. I’ll be looking forward to packing a cooler, our fishing gear, and maybe Gretchen for afternoon cruises through the bayou. I’m training Gretchen to “Sit” in the canoe. We’re going to practice in the backyard.

Where's Cousin Eddy? He usually eats these g**damn things...

And now, it’s time for my favorite game! It's theeeee...

“What The Hell Is That?” Game!

Any time I spot an insect, arachnid, amphibian, reptile, green cloud formation, anything crawling in my house, road kill, strange bug bites (on me or Gretchen), I try to identify it. But first I say, “What the hell is that??!” You can play along too, At-Home Audience!

Today’s “What the hell is that” features a creepy-crawly neighbor that decided to seek shade under the wheel of my car. Ain’t he cute? I had to shoot it--- with my camera of course! I found snakes in our yard before but was never able to ID them. Can you guess? It’s a juvenile Cottonmouth moccasin. Yeah, also known as, you touch- you die. But I didn’t find that out until later, when the nice people from NPR’s “Creature Comforts” program emailed me back.

So, here I am throwing sticks at this thing, trying to get it to move from under my tire. I just wasn’t ready to adopt the natives’ mantra, “The only good snake is a dead snake.” But it still wouldn’t move. So, I told the snake, “Let me show you how we do things where I come from.”

I swaggered over to the fence, grabbed the hose, adjusted the nozzle setting to “Blast ‘Em," and I sprayed that SOB like my sister sprays the neighborhood Mexican kids. They ask for it while she’s watering her garden. They think it’s fun, and so does she.

The snake was moving now! Only not in the direction I expected. Instead of slithering away, the snake came at the jet stream of water like a surfer grabbing hold of a big wave, it’s cotton-white mouth open wide. “Yeah, let’s dance” I told it, feeling more like a dentist washing out its fillings. “You like that? Yeah? So does your momma--- Say ‘Ahh!’”

After at least three minutes of this, the snake gave up and unhurriedly slipped into the grass. Perfect timing, because now I have to leave, or I’ll be late. I got in the car through the passenger side just in case, and guess who’s still there? Coiled up right beside the concrete! I threw a penny at it from my open window, for good luck (and to see what it would do; snake was unimpressed with my offering).

One of the deadliest snakes in the U.S. and I’m throwing sticks and pennies at it. Just call me the Snake Charmer. Next thing you know, I’ll be speaking in tongues… which is funny since I AM playing the part of a “Baptist to the Teeth” lady from Texas in a play titled, “Laundry and Bourbon.” The three-women One-Act open September 18-20. I like to think the Spirit is still with me when I get home from play practice, 'jes watching over me when it's too dark to see what devil serpent might be a'waitin' under the car.

The Anatomy of A Summer Day in Mississippi

These Lazy Waning Days of Summer follow a pattern.

Sometime between 6 a.m. and 8 a.m., Gretchen and I head out for our morning walk under a cloudless sky. It’s so gorgeous, and so blue! Make no mistake, it’s already hot. No matter how early we leave, Gretchen always looks like she’s on the Bataan Death March on the leg back. “You’re the one who always wants to go!” I remind her.

If I’m doing yard work or housekeeping, I’ll start it now. I’ll also think about checking email. But must first put in my 20 minute crusade against dog hair.

Between 11 a.m. and 1:30 p.m., dark clouds will roll in. All this time, rolling thunder will fill the neighborhood. I can never tell if it’s thunder, or just neighbors wheeling in their trash cans. But the sound is too close, and it can’t be our next door neighbor Barbara taking in her trash cans. She’s always prompt about that, and garbage was collected three days ago. Sometimes, I think it’s just some truant kids horsing around, wheeling each other about in trash cans. I’ve never actually seen this.

Around 2 p.m., a huge downpour may or may not occur. It could last 10 minutes or it could rain about an hour. Either way, if you’re stuck in it, or if you have to run from the store or the house to your car without an umbrella, you may as well walk in the shower with your clothes on.

About 6 p.m., the sun is shining bright, there’s a nice breeze, and you’d never know of the preceding thunderstorm warning or sweltering mid-morning heat, if the frogs didn’t tell you with their post-rain song.

It’s pretty. It’s sounds like, “Mweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeggggggghhhhhh…….. Mweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeggggggggghhhhhh….”

This past week has been different though! The days are getting cooler, almost comfortable(!) maxing out in the mid-high 80's. The clouds are out of control cool. The other day, I saw mounds upon mounds of cauliflower heads, mushroom caps, Mickey Mouse waving, and Jerry Garcia, all in one sky. Last night, there was a dark cloud cover that ended short of the horizon, and the sunset's orange-pink beams were shooting up from below the clouds, below the horizon even, and creating almost a rock-concert lighting effect, with these hot pink spotlight beams penetrating up into the dark blue-gray cloud cover in several places from several directions. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Even if I had a camera, besides the one on my phone, it wouldn't have done the moment justice.

Of all the places I've lived, of all the awesome nature I've seen, there is nothing quite so pretty as the pastel palette left in the sky after a Mississippi sunset.

Current Events

The girls started school today. A lot of the public schools started last week. That’s just crazy! On the flip side, students get a whole week off for Thanksgiving and they get Fat Monday, Fat Tuesday, and Ash Wednesday off. And they get out of school before Memorial Day. But still! First or second week of August!? That was always around the time I started thinking about getting those books for the summer reading program, or maybe cleaned out my closet or under my bed with a little parental coaching. Even I had to admit by mid-August: there are only so many days you can go swimming, eat Fudgesicles and Pop-Ice as a major food group, and watch TV in a wet bathing suit. Ahh, but it was great while it lasted!

Hurricane season started two and a half months ago, June 1st to be exact. It’ll go until November 30. We’ve been following along a little to this year’s season, but most of the action has been in the Pacific. You can follow along too with this handy-dandy gizmo to the right from http://www.wunderground.com/ .

We’re keeping our eyes on TD Two, which has just degenerated into an area of low pressure... TD’s have always been an exciting part of the imminent season, but that was for Touch Down--- not Tropical Depression. I remember last year, right about when we hit the letter “E” that I started associating hurricanes with all the other things going on in our lives. You follow these storms as long as they last, which could be a couple weeks. Hurricane Edouard, we were finalizing and mailing wedding invitations. Hurricane Fay took us all the way through the Olympics and a few nights of the GOP convention. Hurricane Gustav paved the way for our first official hurricane evacuation to Memphis and just in time for the Delta Blues Festival! (“Kiss my blue suede shoes, Gustav!”)

Gustav pushed back the closing on our house a week. No insurance company will issue policies on a new home when there’s a named storm in the Gulf of Mexico. Which makes sense, because, you know, it's nice to know the house will be there after the storm. And it was. Yeah! Hurricane Ike, we closed on the house, moved in, unpacked a little, and I was getting ready to leave for Chicago for the three week pre-nuptial planning. Hurricane Ike was my first experience of “hurricane track-change cheering.” Watching the news coverage from NOLA to Mobile, AL, you could see tangible relief on everyone when the Hurricane Hunters reported Ike would be veering west. Of course I was happy too- hey, we just bought a house! But I couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. After all, somebody’s gotta take the hit, and this time it was Galveston, TX. But nothing happens in a bubble.

This was the water that came in under the condo, where we were still living while getting the new place set up. The other image is of Gretchen in the "new" backyard, enjoying the unique water view, all thanks to Ike. Parts of Chicagoland were still dealing with flooding from the “remnants of Ike” by the time I arrived in September.

Well, this year, I wanted to get a head start, be on a first name basis by the time they rolled in (posted below). (Is that morbid?) “Yooo Hoo… is that Ida Hurricane?... You’da Hurricane!”

So far, no hurricane action in the Atlantic--- which is good. At the same time, I’m not ready for another season with Jim Cantore. He’s the jerk face for the Weather Channel’s hurricane coverage.

2009 Atlantic Hurricane Names
Ana

Bill

Claudette

Danny

Erika

Fred

Grace

Henri

Ida

Joaquin

Kate

Larry

Mindy

Nicholas

Odette

Peter

Rose

Sam

Teresa

Victor

Wanda

...what? No Zolanda? Booooo.

Alaska July 2009

Click here to view these pictures larger

Sometimes You Want to Go Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Hey Family & Friends! It’s been three months since my last post. But you’ve got to believe me when I say that I’ve been writing to you and blogging in my mind every day. In the meantime, I’ve racked up some good stories: travel stories, local vignettes, and personal-growth(s) journeys. We’ll start with the most recent and work our way back.

A couple days ago, we had the privilege of entertaining our ol’ friends Nick and Karen Miniotis here in Ocean Springs, MS for a few days. A week and two days ago, we were saying our goodbyes to Nick and Karen after spending a few days with them in Eagle River, Alaska. WHAT?! Yes!! It was the ultimate noncontiguous progressive dinner party of all time.

Just as the one-year anniversary of our arrival to MS was approaching (July 17), we were packing to get out again: our Summer 2009 Tour Back North would take us to the two places I had once called home: Chicago, IL and Eagle River, AK. I had a couple days’ layover to spend in Chicago before Brian met me and we both flew direct from O’Hare to Ted Stevens--- Ahh, good Ol’ Ted Stevens Airport in Anchorage, Alaska. We staged our ten-day trip in four locations: Nick and Karen’s house in Eagle River, Kim and Dave’s House (our old neighbors in Eagle River), Kim and Dave’s pop-up camper along the Kenai River, and the Army Recreational Facility in Seward. Our mission: to visit the old house which Brian still owns; to catch up with friends and Alaskan Summer Ales; and to do some serious fishing. Before our arrival, the weather was unseasonably warm in the high 70s/low 80s, and the fishing report was better than ever! The Kenai River limit for red (sockeye) salmon was bumped up from three to six. As soon as we arrived, the temperature dropped 15 degrees and the fishing limit returned to three. It also rained every other day.

No ants at our picnic though. We had big plans and weren’t about to change them on account of the weather. Plus, the cold and rain were a breath of relief from the MS heat (at least that’s what I kept telling myself, especially while on our chartered halibut fishing trip when a huge wave splashed glacier-cold water down my waders. It’s Good Cold! Good Cold!). The first weekend, we spent camping with Kim and Dave along the Kenai River. Nothing like four friends communing with nature and not showering for 48 hrs. I felt bad for Buddy and Holly, their Labradors. It was a bad time to have a keen sense of smell.

Brian and I pulled on our waders Friday through Monday, but didn’t pull a fish out until Sunday at Resurrection Creek, where pink salmon (humpies) come in to spawn. They’re sort of the “easy-lay” salmon. Fun to catch, but you wouldn’t want to take a bunch home to mom. We spent Friday and Saturday on a quest for their more selective and tastier sister, the sockeye, but for all our efforts, caught nothing. Earlier, while we were shopping for camping groceries, Kim told me there’s an Alaskan superstition that if you plan a camping meal around freshly caught fish, you won’t catch anything. Now, we had a back-up mac ‘n cheese plan, but our garnishes and red-peppers with chipotle chilis in adobo sauces just wouldn’t be the same on mac ‘n cheese. Dave’s catch saved us from such a fate.

However, we weren’t shut out of wildlife! Almost ten bear spottings along the Kenai Peninsula, both brown and black bears. The young brown bears were splashing at each other across the river. They were super cute, until three of them came up from behind us while we were all waist deep in the Kenai River. We shouted and h’yawed at them so they’d move along, away from us. For some reason, “Go away, Little Bears” wasn’t as effective as the men’s gruff shouting. Still, it was “so” Alaska to see fishermen alongside bears, both focused on nothing but catching salmon, with eagles and gulls soaring above.

Sunday, we packed up the camp site, parted ways with Kim and Dave, and drove to Resurrection Creek for a few hours of easy fishing, then down to Seward to spend the night at the Army Recreation Camp in preparation for our 6 a.m. halibut and silver salmon charter. We booked our trip out of the Fish House and would be aboard the Aurora fishing vessel, dock H. All this we scouted out the night before. We went to bed early after a long, hot shower, and a nice meal at Chinook’s. I ordered halibut cheeks to get psyched for the next day’s mission. Before we left the dock, a customer with his visiting daughter and son-in-law was giving the captain a hard time. Many boats had not been able to go out far enough for halibut due to rough waves and poor weather. He waited and called and booked this trip just for halibut, so he told the captain, “You best be sure we’re gonna be fishing for some halibut,” (it was a bit much for 6 a.m.)… Later, half-way into the three and a half-hour choppy ride to the halibut fishing point, he was spewing his guts over the side of the boat. “Shoot for distance,” Captain Justin requested in the introduction spiel.

Brian and I each caught our limit for halibut (two each) and silver (coho) salmon (three each). I also caught a black rock fish, which is a kind of sea bass--- kicked his ass! Ugly SOB in a cute sort of way.

I looked into the eyes of each fish and said thank you before they were filleted by Deck-Hand John. Even helped bag some of the other parties’ fillets, because I’m hard-core and was certain I’d be sick if I sat in the stuffy cabin that now smelled like turkey sandwiches and the other eight people on our crew. Brian was more tolerant.

I won’t lie. This was our second time halibut fishing, but a lot more “work” than the last time we went. Eight hours is a long day with people you don’t know, especially when we still had another hour of fish processing and another three hours of driving back to Eagle River. We could have had our fish packaged and vacuum sealed by the Fish House for an additional fee, but we wanted to do it ourselves at the well-equipped Army Recreation Fish Cleaning and Processing Center. After all, we’re hardcore and cheap. Oh, and it was raining the whole time. I went through five shirts, two hoodies, a worthless windbreaker, and two pairs of pants. At least there was no shortage of daylight. And no shortage of learning experiences!

Lessons Learned:

1. When deciding on a fishing charter, bring twice the friends or book half the time/fish. If you want to spend 8+ hours catching fish with people you don't know, apply for a job or a position on Deadliest Catch.

2. Make sure your husband has eaten if it’s been eight hours since the last meal and you’re about to do something important with knives.

3. Don’t start the morning by bitching at your boat captain. You and your crew will never know if the outbound ride was really long and choppy, or if it was just that way by design…

4. If you’re designing squid-like fishing lures, call them something clever like “hoochies.” That way, fishing captains around the world can say things like, “You won’t get any action if you don’t jig your hoochie.”

5. Ladies: always have a pair of comfy pants on hand if you’re going to be fishing all day--- even if you think you’re protected by overall waders. Mark my words, should water spill inside, and all you have on hand to change into is a pair of tight jeans, and you have to roll them over cold, partly dried thighs in the public restroom while balancing on little pieces of toilet paper, you will be hating life.

Once we arrived back in Eagle River, I was done fishing for a little while. Despite the weather, we went golfing (were joined on the last tee box by Mr. Fox) and took separate trips to Girdwood/Portage Glacier and Talkeetna. The rain didn’t deter other tourists who flocked in by the Princess and Holland Tour busloads.

We had some fantastic culinary adventures too: besides campfire sockeye salmon and halibut cheeks, we had steak and Alaskan King Crab (thanks Kim and Dave!) and grilled coho salmon with fresh dill from the garden garnished with avocado, tomato, and lemon greek yogurt sauce (thanks Nick and Karen!). Our visit would not be complete without a meal at our ol’ favorite Eagle River pizzeria, Pizza Man, who thankfully still serves good brews on tap. We had a great time with good friends in Alaska and (albeit uber-brief) Chicago.

I even felt sadly nostalgic leaving Alaska for Mississippi (with three connecting flight). There was a lot to be nostalgic about. Brian and I spent our first year living together in Alaska. Even the flight from Chicago to Alaska with Brian by my side bought back memories of leaving a known life in Chicago for a wild life and love in Alaska. I’ve been sad leaving AK before, but that was because back then, I was leaving Brian. Brian was with me now. So why was I sad? I think it was for the memory itself, for the passage of time, for the things we looked forward to in MS and how much has already happened, mostly great life milestones like driving 5,500 miles across North America , buying a house, getting married, watching Brian’s girls grow up, cheering for a year’s worth of Danielle’s soccer games, helping Rachel with her college search, getting to know our Life in Mississippi, and figuring out my own place in it. Some things threw off our plans, like Brian’s best friend passing away. It felt good to reflect, even to be sad.

I needed that trip. We needed that trip. And to keep the “party” going, Nick and Karen arrived the day after we landed. They used to live in this area, and they had their own nostalgia to share, how much they enjoy the sound of frogs at night (no frogs in Alaska) and how happy they were to be stationed here after living in Wichita Falls, Texas for several years. We do our best to optimize our existence wherever we live, however long we live there. It’s not until we leave a place, that we feel nostalgic for it, even if it's combined with total relief for being over and done with the place. After revisiting where we’ve been, I feel like I can better appreciate where I’m at and get back to making Ocean Springs “home.”

This place is so unique in its own right. And for the first time in my life, I am looking forward to fall and winter more than any other season of the year.