Me and IKEA
“What am I looking at?” You might ask. It’s my 28 year old laundry basket, good as new. It holds a lot of laundry, it folds up into nothing, and the bag unbuttons and comes off to be washed. 28 years, and good to go for another 28 years. It’s from IKEA.
IKEA is the nomad’s dream. I bought three tables to use in a country where I had no tables. These tables come apart, fold down to 24″ x 39″. and fold out to double that size. The hinged tabletops look like the day I bought them. I can put three together and seat 12 more people. They’ve moved six times, made their homes in four countries.
The complex in Kuwait provided the couches and beds, IKEA provided by closets, storage and book cases. I could take them apart and ship them from country to country. I finally had to leave them in Doha, our final post.
No, it is not fine furniture. And for a nomad, it packs up and travels just fine. One of my Army wife friends once told me (her father dealt in fine furniture and antiques) to save my money and buy the fine furniture when we retire and stay (more or less) in one place. I took her advice, except that I still have my die hard, hard working IKEA tables and my laundry basket. And all the IKEA shelves holding my books and fabrics and quilting supplies in the sewing room.
BRAVO, IKEA!
A Breath of Fresh Air!
I slept great. I awoke refreshed and happy. I walked extra laps on my first steps! I feel like a new woman!
AdventureMan is working an outdoor event and the weather is perfect!
Yes! It matters!
Friday Date at Joe Patti’s
Joe Patti’s is a gem, but not an undiscovered gem. We like Joe Patti’s for a lot of reasons, not least because of their great variety of seafood. It is also our go-to for a quiet Friday evening supper of clam chowder or gumbo, fresh-baked sourdough bread, a smoky tuna dip, and assorted gourmet items we love.
Joe Patti’s has been around for a long time, with a prime location on the Pensacola Bay waterfront, a huge pirate ship and a huge-er American flag facing Main Street road, and a genuine Joe Patti-made fishing boat parked next to the store, great for photos. I’ve never seen that ship leave the dock.
It isn’t just tourists and out-of-town guests who get a kick out of Joe Patti’s. I learned on my first Christmas Eve in Pensacola that getting there at 6:30 a.m. was not early enough; most of Pensacola had representatives already in line to pick up seafood they had pre-ordered for Christmas weeks ago. I knew another Patti outlet, which saved my Christmas. The lesson stuck. I order ahead and pick up before Christmas Eve day.
Joe Patti’s has a lot of touristic memorabilia, a deli, a great selection of spices, herbs, condiments. charduterie items, a dessert section, all kinds of frozen delicacies and – an ice cream and coffee bar. And that is where Adventureman and I head after we pick up our chowder and sourdough bread for supper. My first time at the ice cream bar, several years ago, I tried the raspberry sorbet, and was blown away. It was so tasty. I did not let the taste blind me to the sweetness; I watch my sugar intake. I ordered a small cup, and only one scoop. It’s enough. Joe Patti’s charges for ice cream by the weight – Adventureman and I each get a cup of ice cream and we never spend more than $5. What a deal.
Joe Patti’s also has small sample sizes of ice cream free for children – this isn’t just a spoonful; it’s maybe a couple of ounces of ice cream.
You can pay for your ice cream right at the coffee/ice cream counter, and not have to wait in the lines waiting to pay for fresh fish on ice.
We take our ice cream out to the car, which we park on the dock, and eat it as we look out over the inlet, the fishing boat, and the new land fill being created just a short distance across the water from Joe Patti’s.
Friday, we watched an oil services boat come in – holding our breath that a storm wouldn’t blow up suddenly; the circular thing towers over the boat, making for a top-heavy load. Someone knows how that circular wheel functions, but not us. It’s just a novelty, scrolling across our view, entertaining us as we finish our ice cream. Normally, we only see herons and egrets and assorted small water birds flying in and out.
Always worth a trip:
Shampoo Ginger
When we had a bathroom renovated, our contract manager became our friend. Hugo was a great gardener and loved the variety we had planted in our backyard. We shared cuttings and rootings, and he introduced us to Shampoo Ginger, also known as Zingiber zerumbet, pine cone ginger, and pine cone lily.
Our first winter, we thought we had lost the plant entirely to the cold, even though we had wrapped and sheltered it. Late in summer, we began to see signs of life, and by winter, it was fully growing again. By last Spring, we had so many sprouts that we divided the bulbs and shared them with numerous friends. This year, I can see that we will again have plenty to share next Spring. This is a lush, productive plant! We keep ours in big pots because it is a bamboo like plant, will spread out of control if not contained. It loves reproducing!
A bee came by as I was grabbing the photo!
The information below is from our local Extension Office, a part of the University of Florida:
Shampoo Ginger
Shampoo ginger (aka pine cone lily or pine cone ginger) adds a tropical flair to the landscape and can be used in the shower. Its foliage looks comparable to other gingers, but the inflorescence is where it gets interesting. In the fall, the flowers appear within bracts that resemble red pine cones. As the name implies, squeezing these cones causes them to release a clear liquid that can be bottled and used as shampoo!
Characteristics
Shampoo ginger (Zingiber zerumbet) is semi-evergreen and grows in large clumps that are up to seven feet tall and six feet wide. It thrives in zones 9 through 11 and will die back in the winter. The leaves are 8 to 12 inches long and lanceolate in shape. Foliage appears in the spring, and it can be either solid green or variegated depending on the variety. ‘Darceyi’ is particularly showy with green and white foliage.
In the fall, three- to five-inch-long inflorescences resembling pinecones appear on stalks that are just under a foot tall. They start out green with white flowers, then ripen to scarlet and fill with liquid. The cones have a sweet fragrance and are highly favored for floral arrangements. They will persist for weeks if left on the plant.
Planting and Care
Photo courtesy of Forest & Kim Starr.
Shampoo ginger can be planted year-round. It works as a specimen plant, border, or accent plant. You can also plant it in containers indoors or outdoors.
The ideal planting site is in partial shade to partial sun, with moist, fertile soil. Shampoo ginger is moderately salt and drought tolerant. Pests and diseases are rarely an issue, but you may encounter mites. Shampoo ginger makes an excellent passalong plant since it is propagated by division.
Once your cones have turned red, they’re ready to harvest! To collect the “shampoo” liquid from the cones, gently squeeze them over a container. They will refill by the next day if they aren’t squeezed too hard. You can also harvest the cones and then firmly squeeze them over a container to harvest all the liquid. Just keep in mind that the cones will be spent after this method. If you’re harvesting in advance, you can freeze the shampoo liquid for later.
Monsoon Season
August in Pensacola is brutal. I walk in the early mornings, trying to get a majority of my daily steps in before the sun even rises. We run from our air conditioned house to our air conditioned car to the air conditioned store when we need groceries,
Between three in the afternoon and six, we have a tropical rainstorm almost every evening, We wait for it. We welcome the booming thunder and the sharp, blinding flashes of lightning. We love the sounds of the raindrops pounding on our roof. And then, when it is over, we have a brief respite from the heat.
The Weather Guesser and Pensacola’s August Cold Spell
Today’s weather has been unpredictable, to say the least. I almost didn’t go to church; the thunder was rolling in waves, with sharp, loud, frequent bolts of lightning hitting, mostly in the Bayou, but close enough to make my eyes go wonky. The rain came down in sheets, with tropical winds blowing limbs and leaves around, and then, just when I needed to head out for church, it all stopped.
Church attendence was low, not surprisingly, with the heat, humidity, blowing rain and lightning, but the rain held off until after the service. I got home, and it started all over again. It’s been that kind of a day, a nice day to stay inside with a good book. (Ann Cleeve’s Heron’s Cry). Now, it’s clearing up a little and you can see, the temperature has outstripped the forecast for today.
This is what they tell us it is going to look like for the rest of the week:
We do not use any of this for planning purposes. A good friend tells me about a radio station that will state, “we guarantee this forecast for the next twenty minutes.” AdventureMan refers to the meteorologists as “the weather guessers.” We dress for heat and keep umbrellas in the car, year-round, to cope with unexpected squalls.
Sunday at the Veterinary Emergency Clinic
My normal Sunday morning is quiet and contemplative. I get up early, whisper a quick “I’m going to church now” to Adventure Man and head out to what we jokingly call The Express Service. It’s for the quiet people who want to worship without a lot of embellishments and move on. Our priests are very good at respecting people’s time and creating a serene atmosphere for worship.
On my bathroom mirror is an ominous yellow sticky that says “wake me when you get up to talk about Uhtred.”
Uhtred is seeping blood and pus on his left flank. We know there are no options, we dress quickly to get to the Vet Emergency Care before the rest of the world awakes – we’ve been there before. It’s the only game in town, and weekends are busy.
We sign in. As they take Uhtred to the back to give him a superficial exam, a man comes in carrying a huge dog – maybe 80 pounds – who does not look like he is breathing.
We are updated on Uhtred’s condition and moved to a small room. A tech came by with water and an update – due to an all-hands-on-deck emergency, less urgent cases are on hold, Uhtred being a less urgent case.
We wait six hours. During these six hours, I take a break to go outside and walk; walking helps me calm my anxiety and keeps me sane. As I walk, I see another prostate dog come in on a stretcher, and desperate people with cages arriving. We’re under a high heat warning. It’s affecting our animals, too. We’re all desperate. We love our animals, and this is the only emergency treatment center open on Sunday in town. The wait seems endless.
A very competent doctor comes in and gives us two options: a stabilization one where we get him to our own vet the next day, and a complete treatment one, where they get to him when they can, but there are higher priority cases, and they just keep arriving, and they won’t get to him until late in the day. We opt for stabilization; we’d actually prefer Uhtred be treated by our own somewhat eccentric vet who has known us for years, and has treated all our cats.
We leave the clinic in relief after six hours with a cleaned-up, medicated cat in an “E” collar (for Elizabethan) to keep him from licking his wound.
As we leave, something extraordinary happens, something we have never seen before. The clinic closes its doors to incoming patients. There is one doctor, and 40+ situations awaiting her attention. Until they can bring in more emergency staff, they cannot deal with more. My heart goes out to them all, those who are trying to triage and treat these desperate cases, and those who are turned away when there are no other options.
We have a family dinner later in the day, this one an adult-only dinner where we discuss family situations and discuss options. We love these dinners, meeting with our son and his wife quietly, relaxed and open. We make a great team.
My daughter-in-law tells me there IS another option, further north, where we can take our animals under emergency conditions, a place they really like. Another resource! I am so thankful; I’ve never heard of this place, and it relieves my future anxieties about our animal emergencies.
The Limit on TBR (To Be Read)
Pensacola is HOT. We’re hitting 90+ degrees F. every day.
The streets are crowded with tourists, here for a High-T weekend of Blue Angels and their annual airshow. Pensacola is proud, very proud, of the Blue Angels, and, after a while, you just learn to steer clear of Pensacola Beach, any road leading to Pensacola Beach, and the popular restaurants on Blue Angels weekend. Unless you love crowds, fighting for a parking space, roasting in the sun and thirsting for cold drinking water – in which case Blue Angels on the Beach is right for you.
The heat saps my energy. I’m up early, trying to get steps in while I still have a breeze off the Bayou and before we hit our daily high temperature. There are days when you open the door and just gasp when the heat hits you in the face. Today, I am just sluggish. I missed my morning swim, which always cools me off and energizes me.
These are great days for reading. I have lots of choices; I can finish the book (again) that I am leading for Book Club in September (David Howard’s 1066) or I can escape with a hot-off-the-shelf best seller, or I can plunge back into the Hunger Games series from the beginning, which should give me a good week of escapism.
There is a limit – the top of my chair. You’d think that would be enough, but no, I have a backup TBR book-case for just in case I read everything on my TBR chair. 😊
Or I can postpone anything too demanding and write a post to HT&E. 😊
Happy Anniversary, AdventureMan
Today I received this.
At first, I thought it was some friend reminding me and wondered who it was, but I think it is a WordPress function, giving me material to post.
Truly, it’s the whole reason I started this blog, twenty years ago. We are human. We forget. As I read, I was back in that earlier time, early COVID, and I forgot how restricting it was. I had a wonderful, brave real estate friend who showed us houses, and then my sweet daughter-in-law called and said “Are you still interested in THIS house?” It was the house we had sold to them ten years before, but now, with a growing family, they wanted something larger and were happy to sell the house back to us, with one condition – that they inherit the house when we move on. We happily agreed.
And here we are, 6 years later, doing what we love to do – travel, see new things and talk with people. We have had the most amazing adventure, back to Alaska. We love stories, we love to hear how people came here, how people live. Yesterday, we had the joy of finding ourselves on board a small ship with just four passengers, one of whom was a Jordanian man, almost our exact age, and we had so many friends in common, and we had so much fun together.
As he introduced himself to us, he said “You will notice I have an accent, I am from Jordan.”
AdventureMan, always quick, responded in Jordanian Arabic, asking which part of Jordan. The look on the doctor’s face cracked us all up, and from that moment, we were not fellow passengers, but family. We ended up having lunch together after the excursion; we couldn’t stop talking.
Tomorrow, we have dinner with a man I graduated from high school with, lo, those many years ago, and who is, in my eyes, a hero. He is a doctor with his own airplane, and he spent his career flying to outlying Alaskan villages and providing medical services to those who otherwise would not have access.
Life is sweet.
Once I get the photos organized and the trip written up, I will share with you. Meanwhile, thank you, WordPress, for the prompt.
Give to Those Who Ask
Yesterday’s Lectionary readings were rich with wise instructions for navigating complicated situations.
First in Doha, then in Kuwait, and now, too, in Pensacola, we encounter beggers. In Doha, it could be women with babies, kicked out of their homes, or a begger in the middle of the street with a transfusion bag full of blood with an introvenous feed tube, begging for enough money to have the operation he needed for his kidneys (I later learned they were fake). In Kuwait, we had beggers who knew us, and who waited outside our favorite restaurants and we would give them our take-away boxes. In Pensacola, it is the homeless, often military veterans with mental health issues, families without homes, elderly men and women abandoned by the side of the road.
Many treat these people with scorn, insisting they are living like kings on what they scrounge from gullible givers. Some act with compassion, passing out bottles of water and fresh made sandwiches, or passing small bills to those at the corners. Discussion varies little about the “problem;” what is the right thing to do?
Living in the Middle East, I was the recipient myself of kind charity, stuck by the side of the road with a broken car, being given bottles of cold water while a kind stranger changed my flat tire, or a neighbor brought me a platter of leg of lamb and mensaf on an Eid holiday. People invited us into their homes and families. People were kind as I struggled to find words, and helped me understand customs which were strange to me. Charity comes with many faces.
If we are who we claim to be – People of the Book, believers – the answer is clear in this reading from Matthew:
Matthew 5:38-48
38 ‘You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” 39But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; 40and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; 41and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. 42Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
43 ‘You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.” 44But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. 46For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax-collectors do the same? 47And if you greet only your brothers and sisters,* what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 48Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
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