“I’ve Got This”
So this is a wooo wooo post. Non-believers, this is not required reading.
The other day my granddaughter and I were talking, and she asked my opinion on someone, and I responded frankly. Then I asked her what she thought of me. “You are calm,” she said, and stopped.
I didn’t push her further. She has had her own sense of discretion, and I respect that.
And mostly, I am calm. I suffer occasional bouts of anxiety, you know, climbing on that endless hamster wheel that goes nowhere. I swim, I walk, and the good chemicals help wash it away. And I listen to the voice in my head that I think of as God speaking to me. He’s very repetitive. He says, “I’ve got this.”
I have discovered that anxiety gets me nowhere, and listening to that voice, letting go, has empirical value – it works for me.
Post-Hurricane Isaias there is SO much to do. Big expensive tasks that cannot be left undone. Dangerous things, like the big hanging tree, and a treacherous jungle area.
Friday, one pool friend mentioned casually that her son had some experience and could help us with the jungle. We met him, were impressed, and he is coming Monday to tackle the jungle. Yesterday, a church friend called me, asking if I needed a tree service that was insured and certified and had an arborist. Yes, that was exactly what I needed. Exactly that team had finished at her house, and she wanted to know if we would like to meet with them for an estimate. I could hear her relief and happiness with the work this team had done.
We met with the team this morning, and they will schedule us for this week, saying that, indeed, our situation with the hanging tree is dangerous. Our neighbor, in whose yard the top third of the tree is resting, was home and approved access through his gate. We are thankful for good neighbors.
Our family is coming with chili for tonight’s dinner. AdventureMan is making cornbread. I have made guacamole and a cheese dip.
The hamster wheel sits silent, unused in a corner of my mind.
Unequal Restoration of Power
We had a celebration breakfast this morning for our restoration of power. Schools are closed today, the Y was closed in the morning, County and State work was limited so we had a free day and AdventureMan did a BIG breakfast, with his famous biscuits, fried potatoes, sausages and eggs-to-order.
In the middle of breakfast, our son and his wife received messages that their power would not be restored until Wednesday, while almost every Florida Power customer in Escambia was told it would be restored no later than 5 today. They were so disappointed, flummoxed. Going without electricity and internet gets old in a hurry.
Florida Power sent out the following notice to customers, and I believe it is a very fine, honest and open piece of communication describing the enormous probles restoring the electrical grid after a hurricane of this size:
| Crews continue working around the clock to restore power following Isaias. Restoration is essentially complete in Bay, Holmes, Jackson, Okaloosa, Washington and Walton counties. Our focus remains on Escambia and Santa Rosa, where tree damage was more severe and widespread than initial assessments showed. By the end of today, we expect to restore power to most affected customers in Escambia and Santa Rosa, including all schools, hospitals and other critical facilities. We expect to essentially complete restoration in the remaining hardest-hit areas by end of day Tuesday, Oct. 13, for customers who can safely receive power. We know every additional hour without power is difficult. For the latest update, view your personalized outage information. You may not see crews nearby because they may be repairing parts of the energy grid miles away that must be restored first. Some homes and businesses may have damaged customer-owned electrical equipment that must be repaired by a licensed electrician before we can safely restore power. After service is restored, some customers may experience outages or flickers as crews identify and repair additional storm damage. Please keep safety your top priority. Stay far away from downed power lines, flooding and debris, and follow guidance from local emergency officials. We appreciate your patience and won’t stop working until power is restored to every customer. Stay safe. |
As disappointing as this news is – the damage in our beautiful, treacherously treed area is extensive. Street after street is blocked by fallen trees, still. Many of these trees brought down power lines. Many of the poles were snapped in half!
It is 6:15 p.m. and our garbage was just picked up. Such is the service oriented attitude of all these employees, working so hard to get Pensacola back to normal as quickly as possible.
We’ve told our family they are welcome to come over, hang out while charging up their phones and computers, and to take hot showers here, even bring their laundry. We expect they’ll take us up on it.
Isiais: Winding Down
As I put this all together I am at my desk, overlooking the Bayou, while the sun is going down. For years, I looked at houses, wanting a house like I grew up in, a house with a view of the water. What I got was better than I ever dreamed – a house where I could see the sun set every night of every day of every year.
Three days of drama have ended well. Little loss of life. A community that helps one another. Neighbors with different backgrounds and different philosophies and different politics find we have more in common than we have differences. The National Guard comes in to assist and to help us. And at the end of the day, we have a beautiful sunset.
My son and his wife drop by to give us a couple of grilled fillets of salmon, this Alaska girl’s favorite. We sit and talk and laugh our heads off, telling funny stories. They are coming back tomorrow morning; AdventureMan is making his famous biscuits, with eggs to order and fried up sausage patties. The forecast is for more laughter.
Awaiting Landfall
I usually swim on Friday mornings, really early so I can get on with my day. I didn’t set my alarm last night, just figured I would sleep until I couldn’t sleep and get up, so I was about an hour behind my normal, but not bad. It was raining when I stepped outside, enough so that I wanted to have a coat on.
The pool was packed! It was like everyone wanted to swim because we never knew when we might see the pool open again. Hurricane Sally, six years ago, changed a lot of things, and helped us never take anything for granted again. I just did a short swim so I could go home and help AdventureMan finish closing up the shutters. Once the final shutter is closed, it is very dark inside.
While I was at the pool, Hurricane Isaias increased to a level 3 hurricane. AdventureMan was already out fixing the last of the shutters. I had thought maybe the shutters were overkill, but once we learned Isaias was now level 3, we were glad to have them. Our house looks like a fortress now.
We closed out our checklists and went to lunch. AdventureMan was kidding me about doing one last load of laundry, but . . . you never know what is coming next. It might be a while before I can do laundry again. We were at Mama Tacos, up on Olive, and crew after crew of big electrical vehicals pulled in and they all met up for lunch.
And when we got back, the house was dark, and we had no electricity. The rain had increased, we could hear someone running their generator, and I called Florida Power and told them we had an outage. I don’t know what magic spell they incanted, but we had our electricity back within 15 minutes. I kind of laughed to myself, I thought it would take longer because they were all eating at Mama Tacos. We took Scenic on our way home, and at the intersection of I-10 and Scenic we saw a hotel with at least fifty electric rigs, all present to take care of the damage Isaias is expected to inflict.
I decided to take a bath, not knowing when I might bathe again. AdventureMan came in to visit me as I bathed and looked a little lost. I asked what was up, and he told me he’d completed his list, he knows he shouldn’t be out on the road, it is time to settle in for what is to come, but he is restless and feels like he should be DOING something. I’m hoping he will take a good nap 😊.
Here’s the latest map I can find:
And in twenty four hours, it should be over.
What Do You Expect When You Vote for a Misogynist?
More than 35% of female undergraduates surveyed at Cornell last year reported experiencing nonconsensual sexual contact, up from 23% in 2023.
You voted for a man who claimed to grab women by their private parts because he could. He said when you are rich and famous, you can do anything. He and his Tweedledum War Chief think manly equals testosterone and taking what you want.
To this point, increasingly civilized countries have prioritized manly qualities such as protecting women and children, providing for women and children, taking care of elderly parents, giving charity to those who are in need – being physically stronger comes with responsibilities.
Small wonder women are refusing to date or marry men who believe they are entitled to dominate and take what they want.
Consent is basic respect. An agreement to kiss is not an agreement to go further, Consent has degrees, and a manly man checks in, makes sure his partner wants to take the next step.
Stastical Pole Switch
I can put my finger (or arrow😄) on when it happened – the day my statistics swung wildly from primarily United States readers to primarily Chinese.
The jump is bizarre.
The last day, below, I had a majority US viewers:
My friends who have subscriptions have no problem accessing HT&E. I’m still accessed through Google and other search engines. The swing is so precise and so lopsided that I am at a loss to figure out what happened.
Here is the worst day of all, in the entire history of this blog.
Not a single Chinese view, except for Taiwan. And the lowest views in the history of the blog. Just weird.
September 11; A Day of Infamy
I was in Seattle for a wedding, staying with my sister. My nephew and I were up early, and he called to me, “Come see something! This is so weird. A plane just flew into the World Trade Center!”
I didn’t believe him, but I went to his room across the hall to see. As we watched, the second plane flew into the second tower.
“That wasn’t an accident,” I said. “It’s not that easy to fly straight into a building.”
But mostly, I was thinking “Will I ever see my husband again?”
We were living in Germany. The phone lines were blocked. I couldn’t hear his voice.
My sister got a call, and she left for work. My nephew left for work. I had a coffee date with one of my former professors; she never showed up. She called me later to say she was stuck in the ferry line; the ferries weren’t operating, and neither was her phone until now.
So I hit the quilt shop. I knew I would spend the rest of the day rivited to the television screen, trying to learn what had just happened. We had seen it, we kept seeing it, over and over, but none of us could understand what we were seeing.
The New Yorker cover, above, captures it perfectly – we were all in the dark.
I was scared, and I felt angry. I wanted to DO something. I wanted to have something positive to come out of this horror. I designed a quilt. I cut out the pieces. I hand stitched all the pieces. It got me through.
Maybe late that night, AdventureMan was able to call me. We still didn’t know exactly what was going on or if the planes would ever fly again. I held my breath in the coming days, as my flight reservation day approached.
I was on one of the first planes out. I remember the pilot coming on as we were departing, and telling us to introduce ourselves to each other, to be neighbors on our flight, that we would help one another if anything went wrong. It was greatly moving, unexpectedly emotional.
September 11 is one of those days when everyone knows where he or she was when the planes hit. Everyone has a story. On our first safari to Botswana, we met a New Yorker who had been working in downtown New York and who had to walk miles to get home and somehow ended up barefoot. She said the walk was the best part, being alive was the best part, and that the streets, on that day of horror, were filled with people who were kind and helpful to one another.
Intlxpatr Turns Twenty Years!
Welcome to our virtual celebration, old friends and new.
Twenty years ago on this very day, newly arrived in Kuwait, I joined a very lively, edgy and welcoming blogging scene. It was frightening to me, but I had my reasons. There were bloggers I loved reading – I started by commenting on their posts. It was like a salon, topics and views and opinions everywhere, and also some facts.
There is an old story about Martin Luther, the priest who nailed his ideas for a better church on the door, and while the church didn’t change, the community in which he lived was willing to entertain his thoughts, and slowly, things DID change. When asked why he would take the risk – being called heritical could end to death – he said (in German), “I cannot other.”
Stepping into the blogworld was stepping outside a comfort zone and expressing thoughts some might think better left unspoken.
C’mon in. Here There and Everywhere has always worked to be a safe place for exploring new ideas, disruptive thoughts and how to make things better. We’ve got great virtual refreshments and a safe place to vent 😊.
There’s a little bit of Soused Apple Cake left over from yesterday’s Fish Fry.
For those who, like me, have to be careful, we also have some relatively healthy finger foods:
Grab something to drink 😊
I miss our great discussions, and I miss the liveliness of the old blogging scene. I’m not so comfortable with the arguments and name-calling I find in other outlets, nor the need to be wary of those who are monitoring – and who are they, anyway?
Meanwhile, a good friend mentioned recently how political I have gone.
Honestly, in these times, even the apolitical are speaking out. I heard a priest today talk about his anger at the hijacking of the gospel, used for vengence and not for love. I found it very brave, those strong words. If we don’t speak out bravely now, the crushing forces seeking vengence and control create a world most of us won’t want to live in.
I want a government who subsidizes health care for ALL. I want science to recommend vaccines which improve our quality of life and save lives. I want corporations that have standards to meet for air and water and environmental protection. I want our police to protect the weak against the bullying and violence of those who think might makes right. I want to welcome the stranger, creating new textures and patterns in the fabric of our nation. I want every person’s vote to count. I want responsible, accountable, educated leadership, and congressional decisions created by working together to achieve doable compromises.
“Ich kann nicht anders.”
As a post script – this is my 5,900 published post 😊.
Shrimp or Clam Salad
This is the salad we are taking today. As a new bride, my far more exprienced upstairs neighbor, Sarah, was always sharing her best recipes with me. More than fifty years later, I still think of her with gratitude when I use one of her recipes.
Today, I intended to do a clam salad, only to discover I had no clam juice! I did, however, have a big package of frozen jumbo shrimp, so I boiled some water, threw it over the shrimp, strained the water after letting the shrimp cook maybe two minutes, and had a tasty shrimp broth to use for the rice.
Sarah, I am blessing you in my heart; we love this salad as much today as the many years ago you shared it with us.
Shrimp or Clam Rice Salad
3 cups freshly cooked hot rice
3 -4 Tablespoons Mayonnaise
2 Tbls cocktail sauce
2 -3 chopped green onions
1 stalk chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped sweet pickle
12 – 16 oz cooked frozen shrimp
or
2 cans whole clams, drained
Cook rice; add solid ingredients (no need to thaw shrimp if rice is hot). Add sauces and very little pepper to the rice. Stir, cover, and refrigerate until cold. Serve on lettuce. Great hot-weather salad; can be used as a main meal.
The End of an Era
“Mr. Adventureman, the papers you have ordered have come!” the manager of the Sultan Center would say, exultantly, to my clueless husband.
“I ordered papers?” he might croak.
“Sir! It is the coated paper for you to use in the microwave!”
“Aha! ” AdventureMan thinks, “my wife has ordered this.”
“Thank you so much!” he responds brightly to the store manager. “We will pick it up shortly!”
Raised with Alaskan frugality, storing for the future, letting nothing go to waste, never knowing when we will ever see (fill in the blank) again, I store my treasures, using them sparingly. Today, I smile ruefully as I use the last of the last roll of waxed paper from Kuwait.
I think microwave technology has improved. I don’t seem to use waxed paper to defend against food explosions as I once did. Or maybe I’ve just gotten smarter?
I’m not buying waxed paper – or a lot of things – the way I once did. I’ve never lived in one place for this long – a place where, if something runs out, I can get a replacement within an hour, or at worst, a couple days. It’s not like when taco chips completely disappeared from every restaurant in Doha for a month, or cream sold out in Tunis as the big Eid approached. The closest we’ve come to a shortage is during COVID, when people hoarded toilet paper for a short time. The lasting result is that my friends discovered the blessing of bidets.
Last month, I actually came close to running out of dish detergent. I have to laugh at myself; in my own funny way, I’m making progress.
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Early Voting in Florida
