Pensacola/Escambia County Honors WWII Vets
To understand how significant this is, you need to know that Pensacola is not a wealthy area, suffering more than 10% unemployment. Pensacola and Escambia County were hit hard by Hurricanes Ivan and Dennis, and are still recovering, but when asked to support this effort, exceeded – and nearly doubled – the charitable contribution:
The sixth trip of Emerald Coast Honor Flight is scheduled to depart from the Pensacola Gulf Coast Regional Airport this morning, taking a group of Northwest Florida’s WWII veterans to see the WWII Memorial.
This is from the Pensacola News Journal for today:
The Escambia County School District is the major sponsor for the April 14 flight, which will take 98 World War II veterans to Washington, D.C.
More than $114,000 was raised through individual donations. Teachers made personal donations to sponsor a veteran, often doing so in honor of their own loved ones who served during WWII. Students saved pennies and participated in school activities such as the “Hats Off To Veterans” day hosted at N. B. Cook.
All of the funds given were donations made by employees, students, schools, parents and community members.
In October, the district set a goal to sponsor 50 veterans, but within six weeks, the goal had been exceeded. On March 16, Superintendent Malcolm Thomas presented a ceremonial check to Emerald Coast Honor Flight, representing the largest donation ever made to the organization.
“I’m so incredibly proud of Escambia County’s staff, teachers and students,” Thomas said in a news release. “They really stepped up to the challenge to honor our local veterans by sending them on Honor Flight.”
The veterans, whose ages range from 82 to 95, will have guardians to escort them throughout the entire day. A cherished war time memory , “mail call,” will be re-created on the flight to Washington, with letters of appreciation from students and employees being distributed to each of the veterans.
Bryce Cox, a fourth-grade student from N. B. Cook Elementary, wrote one of the letters.
“I wrote ‘Thank you for serving our country and protecting it and I hope you have fun on the Honor Flight,” Bryce said.
A big homecoming celebration is planned upon the veterans’ return to Pensacola. Escambia County School District high school bands, cheerleaders and NJROTCs will be participating.
The public is invited to welcome home the veterans as at 7 p.m. at the Pensacola Gulf Coast Regional Airport.
Wooo HOOOO on you, Pensacola and Escambia County!
Crabs on Pensacola Beach
We love seafood, and after hiking around on Ft. Pickens, we were ready for a late lunch. We did something we rarely do, we deliberately chose a very touristy restaurant surrounded by people on Spring break, lots of college kids, lots of high school kids, lots of parents with very young kids, maybe the elementary schools are also having Spring Break, but also – it’s Saturday.
And it is gorgeous on Pensacola Beach, temperatures in the low 80’s (F), a nice breeze, some fluffy clouds now and then, and the Crabs looks like just the right place. It is huge. It says it can take ‘large parties’ and it looks like it has seen a large party or two.
They have a huge sign. It says “We’ve got CRABS!”
It is right on the beach. It has several levels, and I am guessing, based solely on my observations of the demographics, that young things in swimming suits, couples, and people with small children get seated on the beach level and people wearing clothes (us) are seated one floor up. That’s fine with us, by the way, we got this gorgeous table with a view that goes on forever, overlooking the entire beach scene.
We also decided we’ve lived in the Middle East too long. We keep thinking those women need to put on some more clothes! And they ask us if we are missionaries! Think maybe my skirts are a little too long?
There was a huge crowd. Service was very friendly, but SLOW. When our food came . . . we were so hungry. I forgot to take photos. We were half way through when I remembered . . . 😦
This is what half of Crabs Shrimp and Fish dish looked like:
This is what AdventureMan’s Southern Mixed Seafood looked like:
We have so much left over that we are having it for dinner tonight!
Golden Age at Fort Pickens
“We need a break” said AdventureMan, and we decided to go exploring, preferably out in some beachy area. We decided to visit Ft. Pickens, waaaaaaaaay out on the end of a very long barrier island protecting Pensacola.
You can see the blue balloon shows where the Fort Pickens defenses were built:
It’s a national park. It costs $6 to drive a car in.
“Are there any annual passes?” AdventureMan asked, because for us, those are a good deal, and once you buy them you can go anywhere!
The answer was yes, but it was expensive, probably still worth it, but the twinkly eyed woman then asked him “Are you a golden ager?”
“What?” AdventueMan asked in confusion.
“Are you 62? If you are 62, you can buy a Golden Age pass that lets you in all the National Parks for $10.”
“No,” AdventureMan stuttered, “no, not yet . . . ”
“But I am!” I hollered, handing him the money to buy a Golden Age pass before she could change her mind. She carded me, yes, she did, but as I am four months older than AdventureMan, I qualified, and now we can go anywhere (as long as he is with me, we get in on my pass.)
Fort Pickens is beautiful. The sand is white and powdery, and the sea is a lot like the Arabian Gulf, all shades of green and turquoise and blues, shading into purples.
Looks like snow, doesn’t it?
AdventureMan loves old forts; here are where gun batteries were once placed to guard the shores:
We spotted Osprey flying on the air currents around the forts, and huge osprey nests:
We hiked along a beautiful bike/walking trail where I saw tiny purple flowers like we used to find in Saudi Arabia:
Sharp eyed AdventureMan pointed out a snapping turtle – can you see him?
Can you see him now?
We needed a day to remind us it’s not all about work. Getting settled as we get retired – isn’t that supposed to be fun?
The Quest for a Florida Driver’s License
I thought it would be a piece of cake.
One of the hardest driver’s licenses to get is a German one, unless you are a driver’s license holder from select states who have an agreement with Germany. I was not a resident of any of those states, but my husband’s company was located in one of them, so as I went through one year, I exchanged my current state license for that state’s license by showing my license and letting them punch a hole in it, getting a new photo and a new license from the needed state – it took like ten minutes.
So AdventureMan and I show up at the Florida Driver’s license place with our old licenses. The man hands us a check list of items we need, and it is like a scavenger hunt! You must have one from column one, one from column two, one from column three and two from column four.
Aha! The Queen of Paperwork, one of my aliases, assures AdventureMan we can cobble together what we need. I have utility bills! I have a 1099! We have passports! We have a deed to our new house, with our names on it!
We walk back in and meet a very nice Florida driver’s license guy and discover our paperwork is not quite so adequate as we thought. My 1099 does not have my FULL social security number on it. I haven’t seen my social security card for – decades. No one has EVER asked to see it before. I know my number, and it isn’t enough that it is on the several other cards I pull out to verify who I am.
We have 9/11 to thank for this, and the Orwellian Patriot Act, life has gotten a lot more complicated.
AdventureMan does not have exactly the right papers either, but very close, so the attendant allows me to write out a statement verifying that I am responsible for him and verify he is living at my address with me (the utility is in my name.)
On our way down to the Social Security Administration, which, by the way was amazingly efficient for a bureaucracy, AdventureMan started laughing and said it’s not unlike when we first got married and he, being four months younger than I am, was not old enough to rent a car, so I rented the car in my name. I laughed and told him he was lucky that when I vouched he lived with me, I did not check the block where I said I was his guardian!
Less than an hour later, I have a letter verifying I have a social security number, and will have a new card, and we are back at the Driver’s License office for the third time; the third time’s the charm, and now I am a legal Florida driver, a registered voter, and an organ donor.
I still have my lifetime-good German driver’s license, which has been handy many a time, and my Kuwait driver’s license, valid for eight more years, and a valid Qatar driver’s license, although maybe now that we are no longer legal residents, we no longer have valid licenses, either, LOL!
Ketchup Entry
“It’s been five days since you blogged,” my friend wrote to me. “Isn’t that some kind of a record?”
Well, no.
Back when I went to Damascus for Christmas, it was also the Eid al Kebir, and I was gone for a week and everyone was so busy with their own celebrations that no one really noticed. 🙂 Well, maybe my Mother. 🙂
This time, it has to do with AdventureMan.
AdventureMan became semi-retired this last week. He and the Qatteri Cat flew to Pensacola, where we met up and now the three of us are staying in a hotel while our heroic contractors are battling to have us in the house by April 15th. Will we make it?
The Qatteri Cat was totally freaked out by his long long trip to the United States. First, for all my annoyances with KLM, we have to tell you that they are totally superb when you are shipping an animal with you. At every stage of the journey, they kept AdventureMan informed on QC’s progress, and he was in great shape when he arrived, except that he was really, really scared. He didn’t understand any of this, the long flight, all the noise, the vibration and then the hotel room full of strange smells of a 1,000 previous guests. (If you are a cat, you can smell things we can’t even dream).
He is OK now. He has a short memory.
Meanwhile, AdventureMan and I have been doing the business of getting ready to get settled, and at the same time, AM is jet lagging. I tell him I think he is catching up on months of sleep deprivation, and he says he thinks it is just jet lag. It makes me happy to see him sleep.
Today, we went by the house so I could pot a cherry tomato, a very special heirloom tomato that I found at the Emerald Coast Garden Show this last weekend. It is a black cherry tomato, and I have never seen one! I have sent for some other heirloom seeds; I love cherry tomatoes and grape tomatoes, tiny little tomatoes with intense flavor. I love to mix them all together with some green onion tops and just a little lemon-y vinaigrette dressing, maybe on some lettuce. YUMMM!
Anyway, AdventureMan likes gardening, too. He comes by it honestly, both his grandfathers gardened. One of them had chickens, too, and grew peanuts, and corn as well as a garden full of vegetables. I garden on a much smaller scale. Mostly I plant things that will take care of themselves – lavender, rosemary. Here, in the mild climate of Pensacola, basil becomes a perennial (I saw that in Kuwait, too, at our Kuwait gardening friend’s house) and I have planted some bougainvillea, which I am hoping will be hardy enough to weather an occasional cold winter or two like the last one.
When we got to the house – and this is Sunday, in the heart of the Bible-belt deep South – the ceiling and drywall people were there, working on a ceiling. We were surprised to see them there, but we know they are all trying really hard to get us into the house as soon as they can.
I was thinking AdventureMan was going to kick back and take it easy, but it hasn’t turned out that way – we are up and at-’em every day, and we have accomplished amazing things. More about some of that in future posts.
Just wanted to let you know I haven’t forgotten about you – just haven’t had the opportunity to sit for very long to organize my thoughts.
Car Seat Base
My new little Sand colored Rav4 is a workhorse! I lug groceries, furniture, boxes, bedding plants and soil, huge pots, and even bookcases, with just a flip of a lever, the middle seats fold down and I have a long flat bed to carry longer items.
The accessory I like the best doesn’t come with the Rav4. I had to buy it separately. It is a Chicco car seat base, so that I can load and lock my little grandson in my car when we need to pick him up or take him somewhere. 🙂 We had our first trial run taking him to lunch at the Jordan Valley Restaurant in downtown Pensacola, where they had decent baba ghannoush and hummus, bland olives, and felafel – but it isn’t the Beirut. 😦
There are camels on the wall. There are some fabulous cushions. They have some gyros platters and I had a chicken shish taouk . . . it isn’t the Gulf, or – it isn’t the Arabian Gulf – but I am thankful there is one place in town that has felafel and tabbouli. 😉
The good news is, baby Q slept the whole time. 🙂
Pensacola Ramadan Lanterns
Have I mentioned how low my shopping resistence is? Oh? More than once? LLOOLLL . . . . it is a serious problem for expats coming back to settle. It is even a problem these days for expats coming back just for a few weeks! You see all the kinds of things available that you never see, or you see things you never buy at prices you cannot believe, and if you are returning, you return with a ton of chocolate chips (if you are me) and Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing Mix, Knox gelatine, colored sugar crystals, and . . . well, you get the idea.
At one time, we could take two big duffels, even in economy. At one time, when you checked in overweight bags, the people checking you in just looked the other way, most of the time. So we brought stuff back, books, computers, printers, whatever you could get in a duffel – and trust me, you can get a LOT in a duffel.
There was one thing, though, that I couldn’t resist in Doha, and in Kuwait, the Ramadan lanterns. I loved those lanterns, so beautiful, so exotic. I bought many, different styles, I loved them.
So imagine, I walk into the local Pensacola TJMaxx and what do I see? These are advertised as ‘garden’ lanterns, but many of them bear an amazing resemblance to ‘Ramadan’ lanterns:
Y.M.C.A.
Last week I joined the Y.M.C.A. I joined it because I really really need to exercise, and I don’t think exercise is a lot of fun. In fact, mostly I think it is boring, and I don’t keep up with it. The only exercise I ever keep up with is water aerobics, and I don’t know why, except it isn’t as bad as all the other kinds of exercise. I might like dance-aerobics, if I could ever learn the moves, but I always get discouraged – or embarrassed – before I have been there long enough to figure out the sequences.
So this morning, I attended my very first aqua aerobics class. I was late. I think the devil didn’t want me to exercise; I slept badly last night and then overslept this morning. I walked into class late, and if you have ever taken an exercise class, you know that all the best spots are taken, and I had never been in the pool before. I got in, and discovered where I had entered the pool was over my head.
In the meanwhile, the class goes on, and it is kick-a$$.
I had been trying to talk AdventureMan into considering taking the class with me, but he pooh-poohed it and said aqua-aerobics was girly. No No No, AdventureMan, not this class! This class has participants from teen-age to creaky, men and women, all trying to keep up with the instructor, who sets a relentless pace. We have one hour to get through the entire repetoire, including cool down stretches, and then O-U-T so the next class can get started. There is a hot tub and a steam room, and a totally dry floor policy – like after you shower, you have to be dry before you enter the locker room so no one will slip and fall. There are several elderly women, and people are very protective of them.
I was lucky. There was a very nice young woman who would whisper explanations to me as we went along, and, of course, in the water the fact that you are totally out of your league is not so obvious. She clued me in to the dry floor policy as she helped one of the elderly women get her pool-shoes off, and told me to hang out in the hot tub so my muscles wouldn’t seize up. You wouldn’t think an water exercise could be so demanding, but I can feel some of those muscles already. 🙂
“Think you’ll be coming back?” she asked as I was leaving.
Oh, YES. 🙂 It was actually . . . fun!
Every Monkey Gets His Turn in The Barrel
AdventureMan and I have this phrase, and I cannot imagine where it came from (from where it came, for you grammar sticklers!) “Every Monkey gets his turn in the barrel.” It’s particularly true in the workplace, or at least almost every workplace where I have worked – it’s like the stock market, sometimes your stock is high, sometimes your stock can fall, and often, it is not so much your performance as the PERCEPTION of your performance.
Often, in the work place, stocks rise and fall based on little or nothing at all. In fact, if you are really really good at what you do, you are sometimes more at risk, because those who are less accomplished always need to focus the attention anywhere but on their own work, and if you are doing well, they will often find something to criticize to keep their own lackluster accomplishments from coming into focus.
But every monkey getting his/her turn in the barrel applies in almost all factors of life. Sometimes you’re up. Sometimes you’re down. Sometimes it has nothing to do with you, it’s just the way things are.
So my trip home was sort of my turn in the barrel. I was a little late getting to the airport, which was not crowded, but there was a long back-up going through passport control to get to the departure gates. They had plenty of staff, but for some reason, they were SO SLOW. When I got to the front, the woman ‘taking care’ of me was busy texting! I asked if the computers were slow today – honestly, she had already stamped my passport, she was just killing time – and she said “No, why?” as if she were unaware of all the people standing in line, waiting to get through.
When I got to Dubai, I had to do this 2 km run from the gate where Emirates comes in to the Delta check-in counter. I always think of it as good exercise, but the humidity in Dubai is particularly high, or else the air conditioning is going out, and at the end of the trek, I am almost soaked with sweat and thinking ‘OMG I need a shower.’ I went to the lounge, but there was a sign “opening at 2100 hours’ and it was 15 minutes after nine. I could see someone in there, but later she stuck her head out and said she couldn’t let anyone in until the ‘attendants’ came, which they did, about 15 minutes later – they had been shopping!
And then I discovered that I had to go to the Air France lounge, not nice at all, near the smoking station so even inside the Air France lounge it smells stale and smokey. I am spoiled. I love the Emirates lounge in Dubai, where they even have tiny small containers of Haggan Daaz ice cream for their clients. 😉 This lounge was filled with American contractors. Yes, we are also American contractors, but this was the other kind – great big fat loud-voiced men, bragging about their salaries and demeaning their wives. I couldn’t wait to get out of there, which I did quickly after checking my e-mails.
The flight from Dubai to Atlanta is just long – more than 15 hours – and started inauspiciously. As we took off, as the plane’s nose lifted, some cupboard fell open and we could hear china and cutlery falling and breaking, a lot of it. I felt so sorry for the flight attendants; they have a lot to do during those flights, and now it was complicated by a disaster at the beginning of the flight. I got through it, mostly by escaping into sleep.
As we arrived in Atlanta, everything had changed. I just did this trip six weeks ago, but there is a new traffic pattern, a longer trek, sterner instructions about how and where to get into line. My bags, marked “priority’, were, as often is the case, nearly the last off the plane, and I trundled them through customs, and then had to run (honestly, this is like a herd of cattle) to get into another long, snaking line to go through security again – this time in Atlanta, where you have to take off your shoes, take out computers, can only use a 1 quart zippering plastic bag, etc.
I had thought I had plenty of time, but a large troop flight came in from Afghanistan, and we all had to move aside to give them priority. That is the one inconvenience I did not mind at all – I am so proud everyone moved over with no grumbling and let our servicepeople through, to get them on their way for R&R.
Security found me very interesting, and this is my own fault. I have a little Waterford crystal sugar jar that I took with me. I’ve had it since the early years of our marriage, and I often hand carry it to the next post. It’s too bad that lead crystal goes opaque in the scanners, and that the shape was a little like that of a hand grenade. I also had my wireless router with me, and this led to a long, long, very long inspection of everything I was carrying.
As I griped later to my son, he said “And I am sure it never occurred to you that you were arriving from the Middle East on a one-way ticket.”
LLLLLOOOOLLLL @ me. Nope. It had never occurred to me. I guess I was thinking about other things – farewells, clearing out the house, packing, mortgage papers, insurance papers, TAXES (Oh aaaAAARRRGGHHH, yes we have an extension, but we still have to get them done!)
So this trip, I was the monkey. I rolled around in that barrel. Actually, because I had no real agenda, other than be in P’cola by Monday to close on a house, I could roll with it and figure that I have had so many breaks, so many times, that if I needed to take this roll in the barrel, so be it, God is good and needed to give the breaks to that old guy in the wheel chair and that family with two kids in strollers, and all those fine young people who serve our country in strange and alien lands . . .
And, at the end of my journey is my son, his wife, and our grandson, and a sweet, relaxed day with them, doing not much but catching up. 🙂 The real chaos starts this coming week, early on Monday morning. Think I’d better get to church, get some fortification for the demands of this coming week.
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