Ernesto = BFD

Oh, NO! It's Ernesto! Somebody saaaaave meeeee!

While I do believe that caution and storm preparedness are important, I can only roll my eyes at all the Miami gas stations that were closed this afternoon because they were sold out. Sold out. Sold the @#$% out.

While I feel for those who survived Andrew, I also believe that Miami needs to get over itself. The slightest murmuring of unusual weather sends people flocking to the pumps in droves, filling the tanks of gratuitously large vehicles which will only be totalled once an airborne tree branch scratches the $10,000 chrome bumper. Now, call me crazy, but all us Monroe County types from the Keys up to Flamingo were still listening to the fishing report this morning. The tourists all got sent packing days ago, so the guides are out together hauling in some redfish and snook before taking the boat up the ramp one last time. My local radio station this morning summed it up best: "Tropical Storm Ernesto! Who cares?" Meanwhile in Miami, grocery stores are stripped bare, gas pumps are shut down, and the leaves are fluttering slightly in the breeze. It even sprinkled a little earlier. Cars are wrecked all over the roads. All Publix locations closed at 6:00 pm. I guess it's just a hardier, or crazier (or both) stock of people in the Keys. Miami is very soft and prone to intense overreaction - about everything.

We had to leave Flamingo by 1:00 pm, so rather than spend the next 2 nights before our flight to OK on the floor of the Pine Island HQ building (rah) we are comfortably ensconced in a Miami Fairfield Inn from whence I am typing away to you now. The comfy bed and wireless internet connection are far preferable to a foam slab and a sleeping bag for one who has recently rejoined the ranks of the living. My IV puncture wound may be healing, but I am not up to "roughing it" just yet. I almost have my appetite back, and I am hoping that it will make a full return in time for some tasty barbecue in a few days. Of course, the other problem is that most everything tastes bad. Well, tastes funny, anyway. I don't know how that's flu-related, but whatever. I can't think of any other plausible explanation. A lot of stuff has a sour undertone to it, and other things, well, I can't describe it. Maybe I'll shed some extra tush. One can only hope.

Well, folks, I have many more places to surf before I go to bed. Yes, you heard me! It doesn't matter that it's 1:00 am. My recent illness has also left me an insomniac. I think I slept so much while I was really falling-down sick that I'm going to be awake for a good week straight. Seriously. We're talking lying awake tossing and turning until 5:00 am. It's not pretty. Okay, I'm going now. Stayed tuned, boatophiles!

Wicked Pissed

Have you ever been so enraged that you turned into a cartoon character? You know what I'm talking about: your entire body slowly turns fire engine red from the feet up, and when it reaches the top of your head steam blows out your ears. I was just that shade of angry yesterday. I turned so red-hot, I stayed that way. It was like a sunburn! Wierd, huh? I'm still a little warm this a.m. I can't tell the whole story here, but suffice it to say I did something for people that I didn't have to do, just for their benefit, only to receive a nasty and insulting anonymous note demanding more. Some people. And no, these were not newcomers of a southerly persuasion, either. What is wrong with people? When did we become so darned entitled?!?!

The Demise of the Barbie Spoon

I hate tarpon. No, seriously, I really do. They are the biggest waste of bait on the planet. No, wait - that would be the goliath grouper. The tarpon are up there, though. You see, I had this lure. It was a favorite lure of mine, and it was magic. Fish loved it, especially the yellowtail. I called it the Barbie spoon. It was one of those diamond-shaped, "hey, I might be a squid" spoons with hot pink prismatic stuff on the top of it. On a decent day, fish would hit that thing left and right. Woe is me, however. I was out fishing off the dock the other day, and though I kept an eye out specifically for them, a tarpon snuck up on me. It was too far away for me to really see it. It took my lure, jumped, and was gone. Little bastard. I've made it my personal mission to harass tarpon whenever I see them while snorkeling now. They're killing me with this theft of tackle. I also can't find a replacement for the Barbie spoon. I found one the same shape and size with the pink bead, but alas, no pink prismatic stuff. How can I be expected to fish with inferior tackle? I wonder if they make Scotchlite in hot pink...

Tagged...

1.) One book that changed your life: The one I'm writing. It tends to dictate my schedule at times.

2.) One book you've read more than once: I've probably reread The Old Man and the Sea the greatest number of times. There are so many books and so little time that I don't repeat all that often.

3.) One book you'd want on a desert island: Hmm...how about How to Survive on a Desert Island for Dummies or The Complete Idiot's Guide to Survival on a Desert Island, or perhaps even Rick Steves' Guide to Desert Islands. You get the idea. Have I beaten that one to death enough or should I continue? (Hmm...didn't realize Jay had this same thought until after I wrote it. There's something scary!)

4.) One book that made you laugh: Skinny Dip, by Carl Hiaasen

5.) One book that made you cry: It's only happened once. When I was a kid I read The Call of the Wild, and the part where the sled and most of the dogs go under the ice got me a little misty-eyed.

6.) One book that you wish had been written: You, Too, Can Master the Jedi Mind Trick What the heck kind of question is this?

7.) One book that you wish had never been written: I honestly can't think of one.

8.) One book you're currently reading: How the Irish Saved Civilization

9.) One book you've been meaning to read: The Confessions of St. Augustine

10.) Tag five others: Umm...sorry. Don't know any bloggers who haven't already been tagged with this. Man, it sucks to be at the end of the line!

Tour Babe

So today I gave my first tour of Fort Jefferson. The fact that I had to be up at 8:00 a.m. did not bode well, but by 8:30 I was coherent enough to greet our guests and think about what I would say. I don't normally do the tours, but as we had a group of NOAA folks stopping by, I decided to extend them the courtesy. All things considered I did well - even got a few laughs, so I must have been doing something right. At least I lowered expectations by giving my disclaimer at the beginning. This is key. I am sooo glad that I don't do this on a regular basis. Not only am I hoarse from projecting, I'm starving! This getting up in the morning thing is just no good. I think I like being the night ranger just fine.

Style File - August

Good lordy mercy! Have you seen the August issue of In Style magazine? Probably not. Probably just me. Anyhow, this is a bad issue. And when I say "bad issue", I mean something that is going to cause me to spend way too much money. It was almost like looking through a catalog. I want, want, want too many things. Interesting to note that apparently layers, knits, tartans, and leggings have come back this year, so we no longer have to freeze to death. How timely - I now live in south Florida. Why couldn't this have happened while I was freezing my buns off in Maryland? I still wore the stuff, but I was so, so un-chic. What is the opposite of chic, anyway? Passe? No doubt my upcoming off-island time will be spent in Miami tracking down those pieces suitable to our climate. This puts me in mind of the lady at the Coach counter this spring. While she was fussing about with wrapping up the bag I'd just purchased, I was busy fussing about with an adorable little faux fur trimmed purse that was laying out on the counter. The Coach Lady (no relation to the Waffle House Lady) saw my affection for the piece and smiled. "It's so cute, isn't it? I don't know what they were thinking sending it, though. Fur, in Miami?!?" Oh, sister, I agree. I may not get to don any of the darling wool caps or sweaters of the season, but I sure will get some mileage out of my strappy stilettos. Kind of economical when one season lasts you all year. Today's mail did contain a surprise special issue of InStyle, though, and if I find anything more in there I'm going to need a second job!

What happened to AIDS?

Why don't we hear about it anymore? We haven't cured it, so what's the deal? My friend Deidre and I were watching Rent last night (I know, I am a Rent-head) and it got me to thinking. Seems like we no longer hear the news stories and cautionary tales that were so prevalent when I was in high school & college. HIV and AIDS have faded into the second row of the tragic buffet that is modern life. I think we just get immune to the various troubles of the world; we are so inundated by them on a daily basis. We have moved on to war and terrorism now, I suppose. In the early 80's when I was still in grade school we were freaking out about nuclear proliferation. Hmm.

Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger?

An interesting phenomenon:
Folks come to visit, read my name tag, make my last name that of someone they know. I didn't think of it as odd at first, but it has now happened more than a few times. Hmm. They misread my name tag in a variety of ways.

"Hey, I know a Kathy Popp in Boulder!"

"Wow! My ex-husband's last name was Kopp! Weird..."

"Hey, you're a Kapp too?!?"

Whatever. While I am charmed that people are dying to have a connection with me, it just seems a bit odd to misread such a very short and simple name. Happens all the time, though. You should see my mail. My name morphs constantly - just another of my super-suave powers...

Tarzan Boy and the Federated States of Micronesia

So I'm sitting here trying to register the version of Bejeweled that came on my computer. I have to fill in all this information, yadda, yadda, and I come to the drop-down box where you enter your state. Since I live in Florida, I naturally hit the "F" key. This normally achieves the desired effect. Unfortunately, this time what actually popped up was the Federated States of Micronesia. *@?!? Since when is this a state in the sense that we normally mean state? Wouldn't this fall more under country? Good thing I had Tarzan Boy playing in the background to keep me happy. Thanks, Jay!

Smoke & Mirrors

What a weird day, yesterday. In the late afternoon the wind died and the water became smooth as glass and beautifully transparent. I made the trip to Loggerhead a little more slowly than usual just so I could look into the water at all of the amazing marine life. Looking out across the water, the surface was like a mirror. If there had been any clouds in the sky, they would have been duplicated perfectly. Instead, what got reflected was an eerie grey haze that drifted in and obscured the view of the lighthouse. At times it was as if the entire island had vanished. We are not exactly in the Bermuda Triangle here, but I would not have been at all surprised to see the Lost Squadron fly out of that shifting bank. It was kinda creepy. The smell of ash reassured me that this was no mystery fog; it was smoke. We have heard conflicting reports about the source. Some say it is from the fires currently spreading through the Everglades; others say that it is the byproduct of burning sugar cane fields in Cuba. Whatever its origin, the smoke hung heavily about our islands and dashed any hopes for evening stargazing. The interesting effect, however, was that the water and sky seemed to blend at the horizon and the sunset was one fiery, red, all-encompassing blaze. We just got our evening light show sooner rather than later. Just another day in paradise.

Nightlights

The Southern Cross. Crux Australis. I am told that these are the only two weeks of the year when you can actually see it and Polaris at the same time. I am also told that Key West and the Dry Tortugas are the only two places you're gonna get the chance. For some inexplicable reason, I have wanted for many years to catch a glimpse of that southern constellation. So, tonight I decided to forego my usual fall-asleep-in-front-of-the-television routine and climb up to the third tier to look. After having built it up in my mind all day, I was very excited as I gazed across the water toward the horizon. Sadly, I was to be disappointed this time. Nothing brings the glow of suburbia to your watery doorstep quite like a gleaming white Hatteras lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree. That combined with the moon served to more or less blot out the southerly view of the stars. Bummer. It was about this time that I became aware of an issue in the campground that needed handling as well. After going through the irksome task of getting back into uniform (which was still slightly damp) and rectifying that situation, I was in a fairly sour mood. I decided to take a lap around the moat wall to make sure the little problem stayed rectified after they thought I'd left. It was then that I discovered the night was not a complete loss at all. I may not have seen many stars in the sky, but there were plenty in the water. The moat on one side and the ocean on the other, I was surrounded by little greenish lights that slowly grew and faded. Bioluminescence. Fascinating. As I was feeling terribly curious about what was actually making the little lights (not hobbits), I shined my flashlight into the water and got to witness even more cool stuff. There was a lobster scuttling around, trying to avoid the beam of my flashlight, some ballyhoo feeding rather noisily, and a sea cucumber actually doing stuff. Well, at least, it qualified as doing stuff for a sea cucumber. Compared with their usual activities of laying around digesting things, it's pretty spectacular to see one bent upward like and arm bent at the elbow. Pretty cool. At that point I began to ask myself why I'd never done this before. I guess I never realized there was anything to see. I mean, I'd been told about it, but it just never seemed that interesting before. I guess sometimes you've just got to experience it firsthand. Now off to bed. Aha! Now I remember why I've never done that before! 3 a.m. visitors come all too soon.

Clean Streets

My entire life has more or less been one tremendous study of human nature. I never cease to be fascinated by the human animal, especially when I choose to view life as an episode of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. What do I mean? The next time you're out somewhere with lots of other people, take a moment to study them with a scientific eye. Observe their behaviors as you would observe a bowl of goldfish or a squirrel climbing a bird feeder. If it helps, you can do the whole commentary bit: "It is feeding time at the Chick-Fil-A. Notice how the young female fills her tray around the single serving of waffle fries with twenty packets of catsup and a three-inch stack of napkins. After the hard winter, her fears of scarcity and famine lead her to seek a comfortable abundance whenever possible." Okay, so I'm poking fun, but you get the idea. I was plunged rather unexpectedly into my Mutual of Omaha mindset today when several people came to report - yes - another dead pelican. It is common here for birds of every description to become tired, injured, and even dead without any help from man whatsoever. This is nature taking its course. Birds fight, fly into things, try to fly through long storms, eat each other's young, and so on. It is very hard for people to accept this. They will point out the dead bird and want me to do something. Naturally, as I still have not mastered walking on water, resurrections on demand are a little outside my area of expertise. I find myself constantly collecting and relocating dead birds so that people don't have to be bothered by seeing them. Many feel that the dead birds are just an eyesore and they want to see them cleaned up and disposed of immediately. Well, what about the critters that eat the birds? Huh? What's a hungry hermit crab to do when we keep picking up all of its food and tossing it into the burn pile? I have tried to explain the food chain to people, several times nearly breaking into a full-fledged Lion King Circle of Life rendition, but to no avail. This is what befuddles me a little, though: the same people who don't want to see dead birds lying around think nothing of stuffing an empty Coke can into a chink in the wall or leaving a pile of cigarette butts beside their towels on the beach. They will even "go potty" in the changing room floors. What is wrong with people? What is the difference in their minds? What makes the dead bird so much more offensive than littering or defacating on the tile? Is it a fear of mortality? Perhaps it is an unconscious fear of disease? I don't know. The floor is open, people (for ideas, not pottying).

Say the secret word and the ducks come down.

So I was walking on the rocky beach the other day and I saw this plastic duck laying there. Who knows where it actually washed in from, but I think it was probably a decoy. Fairly realistic from a distance, probably. Well, anyway, I picked it up. Do you have any idea how much fun you can have with a plastic duck, some newspaper, and an animal carrier? I got one of the plastic carriers we use for transporting injured birds and stuck the duck in the back. Then I stuffed in some crumpled newspaper and arranged it just so in order to obscure the head a little and hide the telltale plastic eye. I just left the cage sitting on the desk at headquarters and periodically went in to check up on things. I fooled two people pretty well, and one person for a brief moment. In any case, it was good, cheap fun. I'm keeping the duck. I think I'll put in on my porch to entertain the birders. :-)

Another Dead Pelican

There was a report in the newspaper this week about pelicans being found paralyzed or dead all over the Keys with botulism-like symptoms. Today I removed the band from another little guy washed up on the beach, just feet from where the last one made its final landing. Pelican #0938-53588 was banded in North Carolina last July. I can't help but wonder if these birds are falling victim to the same disease. Hard to say. I can say that the ones here are most definitely dead, though. Eeew- smelly...

Fashion...turn to the left...

I don't know why I sometimes think that my life is uninteresting. In what other kind of life would I find myself marginally lost at 10:00 at night in the agricultural communities of South Dade County, listening to the best of Paul McCartney with a backseat full of designer clothes? For a moment there, I almost felt like I had my own TV series. I say that I was marginally lost, because I knew that the road I was on paralleled the one I was supposed to be on and that I would get there eventually, but I had turned just a smidge too early and did not recognize anything around me. Now, about the clothes. It's a bit odd for me at times having developed this sudden interest in fashion. I go to Miami and purchase...ahem...invest in these little gems, and then drive right back to a place where I will never get to wear them. It becomes a game of figuring out where I can now go to see and be seen in my snazzy duds. It's stupid and shallow, I know, but I enjoy the heck out of it. That's got to count for something. I've spent entirely too much time trying to do something meaningful; a little shallowness feels good from time to time. Besides, you get what you pay for. It's like finally buying 450 thread count sheets a few months ago; I had no idea I'd been sleeping on burlap all these years. The other funny thing is that I now have other women around me admiring my fashion sense. This is not something that has ever happened at any other point in my personal existence - it's just plain weird. Apparently I have now gone from geek to fashionista. Other people are asking me for advice. I suppose these last few months of training the old eye have actually paid off, eh? Also not bad for someone who can't afford couture. Maybe I should have my own TV show...

Tortugas Snow Day

Brrr! It's cold in the subtropics! 62 degrees is not at all what I signed up for, but what can you do with the wind like this? It's been blowing pretty hard the last 36 hours or so. Yesterday we had what I like to call a "Tortugas Snow Day": wind so hard there are no ferries and no seaplanes. It was just us and the four intrepid campers clinging desperately to the moat wall to avoid being sucked out to sea. The quiet is a welcome break, but it did get a bit chilly out here. We did have both ferries and one plane today, but there were very few brave enough to ride those swells and come out. I keep forgetting that it's actually winter in other places. Just yesterday I walked by the TV in the rec. room and did a double-take. Seems some nor'easter has dumped a boatload of snow on the northeast, making me very thankful that I no longer live in Maryland. Seems they have gotten 12" of snow already in my old town, and it hasn't stopped yet. Eeergh. That I can do without.

Brought to you by the letter "P"...

Today was a P-word kind of day. I can think of no better way to start the morning than by poking a dead pelican. One of our campers came and reported it as having a band on its leg, so I went over, coffee in hand, to check it out. Mmm, bloated. Luckily for me, the legs were exposed nicely and I did not have to manipulate the poor fallen critter too much to get at the band. We logged in its ID number, but no history. Poor thing - it has died in anonymity. So long, pelican number 0938-17350! Godspeed, little buddy!

The next P-word floated in on the back of one of our commercial ferry boats. Super Seasick Man was ejecting breakfast rather forcefully off the stern, and I went aboard to check on him. Nice man, and he's feeling much better now. His party did the wise thing and flew back on the seaplane. The P-word, incase you haven't figured it out yet, is "puke".

Third P-word of the day is brought to us courtesy of the sooty tern population. They are here in force now, and that good-ole ammonia smell is wafting across the cut onto our little island. Is it pee or is it poo? Methinks it is a combination of both, and the combined forces of those two may knock us all out before the month is through. I can't imagine what it will smell like once the chicks hatch.

Well, that was my day. I will soon be taking down the flag and going home to cook some things for dinner, none of which start with the letter "P".

If I'm 31, shouldn't I look 13 in the mirror?

Ah, birthdays... Nothing like a yearly knock-knock from Father Time, just to let you know that your room is ready. A couple weeks ago I turned 31, and oddly enough I am having a much harder time with that than 30. Not sure exactly why, it's just vaguely depressing for no apparent reason. The fact that I am still getting carded by bouncers and called "sugar" by waitresses ten years my junior is somewhat encouraging, once I get over the fact that it's also really annoying. It's especially nice when they look at my I.D., do a double take, and say something like "Wow! You're old!" Oh well. Out of the mouths of babes, or whatever.

This year's birthday was rather uneventful. I was mostly dead for a couple of weeks with yet another bout of what I have dubbed "The Cuban Super Flu". I got on the boat, zonked out, got off the boat, zonked out. That was pretty much the extent of it. I did have the opportunity to celebrate early with my parents and sister in Atlanta, so that was nice. They gifted me with a Bluetooth earpiece for my cell phone so I can stop driving down U.S. 1 with one hand. This is quite appropriate, since I am usually talking to them at the time. I also had a nice dinner date with hubby the next week at Bahama Breeze, one of my favorites. He went a little overboard with the gifts, but I will not complain. I have added to both my gun and power tool collections. Sweet.

Today was mostly uneventful. I finally got out there this afternoon and scrubbed a boat, which was a nice change. If only I'd had a radio - some tunes would have been perfect. No doubt the sandpipers are out there pooping on it as I type, but at least I made the effort. Tomorrow morning we will see just how much my back appreciated that little stint of manual labor.

Thought for the day: "Ships are the nearest things to dreams that hands have ever made, for deep within their oaken hearts the soul of a song is laid."

Scrapvillage "tag" answers

Four jobs you have had in your life:
1. Girl Scout camp counselor

2. Ampitheater usher

3. Clerk @ religious book & gift shop
4. Park ranger

Four movies you would watch over and over:
1. Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban
2. Legend
3. Whole LOTR trilogy-sorry, can't choose

4. Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Four places you have lived:
1. Atlanta, GA

2. Townsend, TN

3. Frederick, MD

4. Key West, FL

Four TV shows you love to watch:
1. House

2. Law & Order (all of them)

3. Clean Sweep

4. Design on a Dime

Four places you have been on vacation:
1. Punta Cana, Dominican Republic
2. Alberta, Canada
3. Rhine & Mosul Valleys (Germany, France)

4. Disney World!

Four websites I visit daily:
1. webmail

2. scrapvillage (almost daily again)

3. www.nps.gov

4. my own blog (well, not quite daily, but often)

Four of my favorite foods:
1. cheese!

2. sushi

3. key lime pie

4. Chick-Fil-A chicken salad sandwich

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. with my hubby (awww)

2. Disney World

3. home in Atlanta

4. hmm...I really like it here...

Four bloggers I am tagging:
I don't know 4 bloggers!

The Very Blustery Day

Big winds this morning - 25-35 knots, and seas to 13 feet. Needless to say, there are no visitors except those who were unfortunate enough to be camping last night. Very little shut-eye for all involved. As for me, I got plenty. I appreciated the rare opportunity to sleep in. Aside from that periodic leg pain I get (probably nerve damage from work, but oh well), today is a good day. Still sore from shoveling sand two days ago, but that I can deal with. Good for the shoulders to do a little work now and then. We had a visit from a Congressman yesterday, which hopefully will produce some kind of positive outcome. There are a lot of things we could use a little help with out here. Well, as usual, not too much to tell. Just another day in paradise, surrounded by the wind-whipped seas. Ahh...no people noises - just the sound of the waves. Don't you just love it?