The Loftiness of it all

 

 

 

Sometimes, I just need to do things that are neither educational nor enlightening, useful nor inspirational. Things like clean out the junk drawer in the kitchen. There is probably some high-dollar pyschological study that explains why we need to do such tasks. These photos represent the mindless Happy Tasks I've worked on lately. A sidewalk that has been waiting ten years for installation; a Lois Ericson Kimono Vest that has been talking to me for several years from the pattern drawer; and a jigsaw puzzle that was a good meditation.

So, the sidewalk could be considered a good project. And, I guess I did learn that there is a difference in sand. I suppose that elevates the sidewalk to the Useful category.

Dreams

 

The mixed blessing of America is that anyone with a car can go anywhere. Travel is mostly about dreams - dreaming of landscapes or cities, imagining yourself in them, murmuring the bewitching place names, and then finding a way to make the dream come true.

Paul Theroux

Perdido River and Sta. Rosa Island

I have often wondered who drew the lines dividing one state from another. Think about the DelMarVa Peninsula. That one might qualify as the most nonsensical state-line-drawing of all. We have been reminded almost daily while in Pensacola that we're really in LA. Lower Alabama. True, that. So, I felt pretty good the day we paddled the lower Perdido River, which forms the line between Alabama and Florida, I felt as if I was finally, officially in Alabama. It was a rare December day, warm and fast moving clouds playing tag with bright sun. I packed a picnic of left-over hand-made shu mei, brie and sesame crackers and apples. It was a quiet paddle, only one motor boat passed us, in yet another swamp that reminded me of the NE Cape Fear River without grapevines, but with giant, old red cedar trees. Afterwards, we enjoyed a frosty friend at Ruby's Fish Camp bar, where we'd launched the kayaks. Those folks were playing corn hole and downing beers at 11am, I think they'd never gone home from the night before.

 
 
 
 
















































We moved from northwestern Pensacola out to Santa Rosa Island National Seashore, known to the locals at Pensacola Beach and Ft. Pickens. The fort was begun during the Late Unpleasantness, and used very little. The Navy being who they are, however, kept the place spiffed and ready for attack, guarding the Pensacola Bay from invasion until the mid-20th century. Today, it is a great wind break, creating sand dunes at the west end of the otherwise very low island. There is a campground on the island, managed by the National Park Service. The fort is a great place to climb higher, and get a look across the bay of NAS Pensacola, downtown and the tall hotels at Perdido Beach. The roadbed is lower than sealevel, and we could see huge piles of freshly moved whitewhitewhite sand by the side of the road. I'm reminded of the north end Portsmouth Island, NC, where it gets very narrow.

New Year's Eve the island was almost invisible in a heavy fog. Even the pelicans were hunkered down, not fishing at all. We had hoped to see the fireworks from downtown, but that was not going to happen.

I took these pictures at 3pm...It was almost eerie, so much dense fog. New Year's Eve night, I slow-cooked ribs on the grill, and made a delicious (if I do say so!) mixed greens gumbo. We ate dinner, listening to the dripping, watery air. The campground was full, but very quiet. I think everyone was celebrating inside their own rv. I was happy to be watching the end of the year, in such a beautiful place, even if I couldn't see through the fog.
 

Bayou 101, Mobile, Alabama

 
 

We drove over to Mobile, AL yesterday. It's only 45 miles west of Pensacola. On the way, we looked at a possible paddle site on the Perdido River, which divides Florida and Alabama. The main goal, however, was to eat at Michael's on Conception Street, and to go the the impressive Mobile Art Museum.

Michael was no longer cooking. His restaurant has been closed since not long after we were there 2 years ago, and I can only guess that his illness overcame his need to cook. What a fine meal we had with him! And, went back 2 more times in less than a week. Well, Robert is cooking in that same tiny kitchen,and presenting a fine Cajun meal. I ordered the cauliflower salad and crawfish anyway the chef would like to serve them to me. Stuart ordered the shrimp po'boy, with crawfish slaw. Ohmy! What a fine meal! My crawfish were in a tomato sauce, with cajun seasoning. The cauliflower was like a warm potato salad. He made a roux, then added the Trinity, and cauliflower. At the last minute, a little cream. What a fine meal! I ordered one of the daily specials to take home for dinner: a pork stew, with rice. I served it with some fresh lettuce from my mobile garden and bread we bought at Panera. A fine eating day!

Then, on to the Mobile Art Museum. They were showing a collection of hand-colored prints from JW Audubon. Who would have ever thought I'd see some of his work?!? He did the drawings, over many years. Two of his sons created the backgrounds, and a printer in London added the color. It was a thrill to see his work, and read a little about him. Mostly birds, but a few mammals. And, the trees and shrubs those birds were known to love. It is an exhibit I'd love to visit daily for a month, to see it all. There were other exhibits, too, including the permanent collection of glass, clay and wood, which I enjoyed seeing again. When we were leaving the museum, I spied a Bald Eagle over the lake beside the museum. Wow! Of course the eagles live here, the Mobile Bay is so huge and a perfect fishing place for the big birds. It was really a good day!

Pensacola Porches

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
It was a few months after the awful Hurricane Katrina. Stuart and I had been to Biloxi and Pascaqoula to pound a few nails and replace a few roofs. Afterwards, we spent a few days unwinding in downtown Pensacola, where we fell in love with the porch rails. I know, sounds silly, but it's true! While we're currently reminded daily that we're actually in LA (Lower Alabama) and not in Florida, I think of the small downtown Pensacola as typical Florida. This is the picture in my head, when I think of old Florida houses. And, most of these houses have been around since the late 1800's, so there must be a good reason for the picture in my head. We spent a pretty sunny afternoon this week, walking and admiring the porches. You know we ended up at Pensacola Brewery, our favorite kitchen in the city.

All quiet in Pensacola

We moved today, from Drifters RV to Pensacola RV. Thumping, vibrating noise from the neighborhood bar was scheduled for tonight, so we left. Love the new location, but we'll only be here a couple of days. Next stop: a National Park at the beach!

Homeless, homed and home

 
 
 
 
This bag is a symbol of wealth for me. I have lots of bags, all them used to carry groceries, needlework, books, a few clothes, garden supplies and so many things of excess. This bag is a symbol of survival for homeless people. A symbol of wealth of a different kind: everything a homeless person owns might fit in one or two of these bags. As of yesterday, this bag is The Most Important Bag in my collection. Stuart and I went downtown to the Pensacola Art Museum, to see two exhibits: a sparse, beautifully displayed kimono exhibit, and a black/white photo exhibit. Some of the kimonos are old, some new, with good signs. Upstairs, the black-and-white photos of homeless men, women and children. Photos were taken by ej cummings, a local psychiatrist working with homeless people. In a huge gallery adjasent to the moving and emotional photo exhibit, huge pieces of 'cloth' were spread out, covering the floor. Pieces of cloth the size of a circus tent. On the walls, large brightly colored, pieces of the same kind of cloth was hanging, waiting to be cut and stitched. The cloth? Fiber artists everywhere pay attention: the cloth was newly uninstalled billboards. Those billboards are made from a housewrap-like material. Think Tyvek (brand). I can barely keep my fingers on the keys as I type this, I'm so excited about this project! Lamar, the Big-Ass Billboard Company (Babc just doesn't work, does it?) donates the finished billboards to a local non-profit organization whose goal is to help resolve the homeless problem in Pensacola. Sewing machines are donated, and the organization oversees the cutting, stitching and selling of the bags. $8. I can hear you asking. Will it help the woman with mental issues who has been living in the woods for years? Will it help the 4 year old who doesn't speak since his mother abandoned him soon after birth, the little boy and his grand mother live at the shelter. Will it help the man who traveled to Pensacola from eastern FL, leaving his wife and 2 children behind, because of a job that didn't materialize, and now has no money to return home? I don't think it will resolve any big problems, but if the sale of those bags will help pay for a doctor's visit for someone, help buy books for some children, maybe help with some groceries, then it has done a good job.

I live in a heated and cooled house, with running water, and I like to think those who are homeless can "just get a job". There is so much I don't understand. This exhibit went a long way to educating me.

The houses in the next pictures are a neighborhood Habitat4Humanity project in northern Pensacola. I walked through the houses yesterday afternoon, admiring the closets and open floor plans. Soon, people who have worked hard but can't quite make the Big Step will own their own house, thanks for the H4H organization and its volunteers and donars.

The pelican was home. He/She was sitting on the handrail at the downtown pier, waiting for a hand-out, I think. He/She never uttered a sound. She didn't have any bags, either.