A Day at Home Depot
Those of you who read this blog regularly know I have a thing about hardware stores . . . Lowe’s, Home Depot, Ace . . .I can spend hours.
Right now, however, we are doing some renovations on a Florida house, and oh! I am learning so much. I am learning that the very best contractor can’t guarantee that a project will be brought in during the time he promised, that supply lines get kinked, that when you think you have made a very complicated decision (like what kind of counter top you want) it branches into a whole lot more decisions (electrical outlets, wall treatment, edge treatment, sink choice, faucet choices, hauling away and tearing out of original fixtures, plumbing fixtures. . . ) and oh, my head was swimming. It took two hours just to arrange something I smugly thought I had thought through.
Thank God there are people who know a lot more than I do, and who can make me face the tough questions.
As I was leaving the Home Depot, the skies broke loose and water poured down. I waited at the entrance about half an hour, thinking it would lighten up. When it lightened – a little – I ran to the car, but was totally soaked, shoes, clothing, hair – there wasn’t a try spot on me. And the rain continued to pour down. I thought of how badly Pensacola needs this rain, and how welcome rain is in Kuwait, and Doha, when it comes. I sat in the car another half hour, as the rain was flooding through the parking lot, and you couldn’t see very far.
As I was working with the counter-guy, he asked me how I liked living in Kuwait.
I told him I liked it.
“What are the people like?” he asked.
They are good neighbors,” I replied, “A lot like the people in Pensacola. They are believers. They are kind, and generous in spirit. And Kuwait has it’s own beauty, you just have to open your eyes to seeing things in a different way.”
I didn’t tell him about you, my blogging friends, because I’m not sure he is familiar with blogging. And because even here, I treasure my privacy.
Finally, the rain lightened enough for me to drive, very slowly, home, trying to avoid places in the roads where the drains were stopped up or clogged, and water was a foot deep or so. Made it home safely, al hamdallah!
Film Fest: Pursuit of Happyness
I always learn the newest stuff when I am around my son and his wife. He subscribes to NetFlix, and tries to figure out movies that will be interesting for me, and evenings we watch something.
Occasionally, I just walk out – I’m reading a good book, and it is easy to walk away from a mediochre movie. He was watching The Matador, and about five minutes in, I could figure it wasn’t going to get any better and walked away. Yesterday, we went to the afternoon showing of the new Harry Potter movie. I just remember the book as being so much better, so much more gripping, and we knew more about what was going on in Harry’s head.
Last night we watched Pursuit of Happyness, and all three of us complained half way through “when is this movie going to get happy?” It is a cliff hanger movie, almost the entire movie this man is dancing on the edge of total disaster. Since it is a true life story, we keep hoping it will have a happy ending. Will Smith, always one of our favorite actors anyway, makes this movie believable and keeps us watching, even though it is painful.
Sometimes, his only choices are painful or more painful. It isn’t an easy movie to watch. Chris Gardner has his own struggling business, makes some bad decisions and almost loses everything, even landing in jail on the day of a job interview he believes could change his life. Even when things go right, things go wrong, and you watch this very good man struggle to achieve a life where he can even just pay his bills and pay his taxes.
And, in the end, totally worth it, especially if you are watching it on disk and can look at some of the extras, like the interview with Chris Gardner, who wrote the book on which the movie is based. And one really cool thing is that the son in the movie is played by Will Smith’s real-life son, Jaden Smith. The connection between them is so real and so beautiful.
And tonight is Sunday night, and a new episode of John from Cincinatti will be coming on!
Oyster Barn in Pensacola
When I said I wasn’t that hungry, just wanted a bowl of soup, something like clam chowder or gumbo, my son’s eyes just lit up.
“We could even walk!” he said. “It’s close!”
We didn’t – not that night, because I was really tired, and jet lagging, but I walked back another day to get an outdoor photo for you.
You’d have to know about the Oyster Barn to eat there – it is a tiny marina on a bayou, and out on the main street, there is no indication that this little gem is hidden back along the shore. You just have to know.
And a lot of people DO know. When we got there, the parking lot was packed. We almost went somewhere else, but we decided to give it a try. And there was one booth just emptied, just right for us. It’s the kind of place when you walk in everyone is trying to figure out who you are, because mostly it is packed with locals. You won’t find this place if you are a tourist.
This isn’t a fancy place, but it has great local seafood. The waitress appeared promptly to take our orders, which here, always start with iced tea (“Sweet or UnSweet?”)
My son and his wife had the Jumbo shrimp, which comes with “two sides” – my son had hush puppies and cheese grits, and his wife had salad and hush puppies. The servings are generous, and oh! those shrimp are SO good. They have a peppery-cajun coating that is both spicy and delicious. We finished with a very tart, very authentic piece of Key Lime Pie, all of us so full we all shared one piece with three forks. Life is sweet.
I had the oyster stew – and it was full of plump, juicy oysters. I took a photo of the stew, but it didn’t do it justice – all you could see was a milky looking base with lumps.
My Mom is coming with me next time I visit Pensacola, and this is one of the first places I will take her. I know she will love it. Although it is in Florida, it is very much like the places we used to eat when we lived in Alaska.
Flash for Sparkle: Atlanta 2
More from the Atlanta airport – just look at the texture in these statues!
This one is about the sea:
This one is my favorite. I wish you could stand closely with me and see the texture carefully incised in this piece:
Again, thank you Atlanta, you made my day.
Ridin’ Dirty
My sis made this comment in my blog today:
BTW – it makes me giggle to think of you as my “Gangsta Sista” with her throwdown…and bling, too, as I read backwards in your blog! LOL, LOL, LOL!
It gets worse, sis. My rental is this long sleek black thing. I’m not used to being so close to the ground, and the thing drives like a boat – it’s heavy and luggy, and it wasn’t my choice, it’s just what I ended up with.
And I was really uncomfortable driving it, I felt just WRONG. Finally, I figured out that the seat was tilted back, and that’s what was making me have to drive with my arms straight out. I’m slow, but I’m slow . . . it only took me a few days. Now the car is still lunky, but at least I am sitting up straight.
And the takeoff, by Weird Al Yankovitch -White N Nerdy:
No bling for me, dear sis. But hey – don’ t YOU have a birthday coming up soon? 🙂
Flash for Sparkle: Atlanta 1
My sister, Sparkle Plenty has a blog on which she writes about only GOOD things, the tiny light that defies the darkness. As I was enduring my trip back this time, I thought of her when I got to Atlanta.
In fact, I was so impressed with this flash of light that I stopped, unloaded my camera from the carryon, and juggling my carry-on, my venti and my camera, walked the kilometer or so that this exhibit was staged between the A concourse and B concourse in Atlanta.
I am so glad I did. It totally lifted my mood, and it felt like a gift from the city of Atlanta. These are all statues by Zimbabwean artists – yes, plonked down as a public art project in the middle of the Atlanta airport. They must have paid a fortune to ship these statues, to create the huge posters on the walls showing crafts and scenes from Zimbabwe, poor Zimbabwe, in it’s steady downward spiral, these artists pull miracles out of the hat.
This was one of the wall posters, featuring Zimbabwean hand woven baskets:
Bravo to all cities that spend a little so that we can be lifted out of our everyday doings and taken to another world of texture, ideas and line. Bravo, Atlanta!
Loaves and Fishes
Just before I left Kuwait, I read an editorial on the front page of the Arab Times; the Reverend Andrew Thompson suggesting we organize something in Kuwait which will make use of almost-spoiled food from the groceries, unused food from restaurants, newly expired foods, etc. to be gathered by volunteers and distributed into communities of the hungry and needy in Kuwait.
Especially with Ramadan coming, the season of feasting with family and generousity towards others, this is a wonderful time to be organizing this kind of effort.
In the U.S., many groups do this, usually associated with churches. In Seattle, we have something called Second Harvest. This morning, very early, as I was leaving the grocery store, I saw this truck collecting food at the back door.
Probably the Reverend Thompson will begin with people doing this out of their own cars, but if you have any pull . . . oops, that dreaded word, wasta . . . with a local van dealer, maybe Kuwait could have it’s own food distribution program.
Loaves and Fishes refers to a miracle where Jesus blessed a basket with just a small amount of bread and fish, but when passed, the bread and fish fed over 5,000 people. It evokes the generousity of the human spirit, and celebrates the incredible goodness of sharing.
News from Florida
In Kuwait, the free press is still very cautious. They might hint at a story, they might give a few details, but they are still cautious about crimes which in other countries would be a matter of public record.
Here is a very sad story from the Florida news scene today:
State Representative Arrested for Prostitution Charge
State Representative Bob Allen was arrested Wednesday after offering to perform oral sex for $20 on an undercover male police officer, authorities said.
Veteran’s Memorial Park was under surveillance when Allen, Republican – Merritt Island, was seen coming in and out of a restroom three times. . . Allen, 48, then approached an undercover officer and was arrested.
He has been charged with solicition for prostitution, which has a maximum penalty of one year in jail. Brevard County officials said Allen posted a $500 bond.
For my Kuwait readers, a state representative is an elected official who helps make the laws. The Republican party is considers itself the guardian of public morals. So there is some irony in this story, as well as infinite sadness.
John from Cincinnati
One of the things we love the most about time with our son and his wife is that they open our horizons. I am waking up these mornings around 3:30, can’t get back to sleep. But my son helps me towards the end of the day, to stay up one more hour, by hooking me on John from Cincinnati, a new series on HBO.
The series is bizarre. I have only seen four episodes; and now I am going to have to wait until Sunday nights for the next one to view.
It centers around a California surfing family, the Yosts. The eldest was a surf champion until his knee gave out, his son wowed the surfing world until he got lost in a haze of dope and booze, and the youngest Yost, Shawn, is just beginning to show his supurb stuff.
But that isn’t all. There is the main character, John, who seems to be a transpositon of John the Baptist into modern times and lacking all kinds of clues as to how we humans behave. He doesn’t excrete, he doesn’t sleep, and he doesn’t understand sex. One of the funniest scenes is a surf-savvy supporting character named Kai explaining how sex is accomplished. It sounds pretty absurd as she explains it.
It’s about the surfing culture. It’s about family interactions. It’s about a small town and how they deal with conflict. And about how they support one another in tough times. It’s HBO, so it can be crude, it can be violent, and it can be very adult. It’s also thought provoking and intriguing.
Very strange things have begun to happen in this small town. Grandpa Yost ended up levitating as he washed off after surfing. Shawn had a fatal surfing accident, from which he recovers. John from Cincinnati can pull whatever money he needs out of his pocket. Butchie has been without drugs the two days John has been staying with him, and is amazed that he isn’t going through withdrawal.
Five segments in, we still don’t really know what we are seeing. We are beginning to understand how the community works, the interfamily struggles. I can’t wait to see what’s coming next.
It’s all Relative
I lived in Florida for six years once, in another life. I hated it.
At first, I was enchanted. It was so warm! And the air was humid and soft! And I went into my first Home Depot and fell totally in love. We had our own pool, we had pool toys and a new Florida life style and we were having fun.
Then, September came. And it was still hot and humid. Nothing changed. I waited expectantly for the cool breezes to begin, for the leaves to turn, all the things I was used to happening in September, including getting out my winter clothes – none of that happened.
I remember the first cool breeze. It was October 20th.
At Thanksgiving, we were still using the air conditioning. I had figured out by then that the hot, humid air made me sweat when I did housework, and made exercise much less attractive. Even sedentary activities like needlework seemed steamy and undesirable.
As I put up the Christmas tree, still with the air conditioning on, I was NOT happy. I really wanted some winter.
We did get one cold month, January, where we had two days of possible frost.
When we left Florida, I felt like I’d been let out of jail – I moved to Seattle and relished the coolness, even the rain. We have air conditioning, but in Seattle, we have never had to use it – the house stays cool, and the night breezes freshen everything up. I can have the windows open most of the year.
Now, back in Florida – from Kuwait – I am noticing how soft and warm the climate is once again, even in the torpid heat of summer. Record highs? No problem. I drove during rush hour traffic yesterday, and it was calm, relaxed . . . almost boring. I am probably the worst driver on the road – I have to remind myself to signal, and to take a deep breath – driving here is totally NON-aggressive.
Little Diamond sent me a clipping from the Kuwait Times on the AWARE center having a diwaniyya on driving problems in Kuwait, with the outcome that if laws were enforced, Kuwait would have far less of a problem. Amen.
This morning I awoke to the chirping of a cricket and the cries of pelicans flying over. Big clouds, threatening thunder, crowded out the clear blue of the sky. And just down the street, I am not kidding, is a Lebanese restaurant. Life is sweet.
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