Tales from Trinidad

I recently made my second trip to Trinidad to complete some work for a client. On my first trip I was only there long enough to complete the work and that mainly at the Port of Spain airport.
This time I rented a car as I had to go to a town called Couva, about thirty miles south of the airport.

Trinidad, being formally part of the British Commonwealth, drive on the left side of the road, so that made the adventure a little more interesting. Our flight out of Houston was delayed an hour due to fog, so the already late arrival of 8:30 PM was going to make for a long day. To add to my concern about driving, it was raining upon our arrival...pouring down tropical monsoon rain!

Customs and Immigration are notoriously slow in Trinidad, so our original arrival of 8:30 became 9:30 and out the door to pick up the car at 10:45 and finally in the car around 11:30. It was still raining as I sat the car, with the windshield wiper slapping back and forth, I was mentally conditioning myself to the right hand drive and setting up the GPS to get to the hotel.

With my courage finally up I headed out the airport exit only to make a wrong turn and had to wrap back around the terminal for another try. This time I made it to the first “round about”, another uniquely British phenomenon, before indecision and the rain caused a couple of loops around before I got in the correct lane to exit and head for the hotel – which was only a mile away.

Air and road weary I plopped into bed...ready to tackle the roads the next day.

The rains of the night before had passed and morning brought crisp clear skies. The main road into Port of Spain is called Churchill Roosevelt and is a very crowded three lane highway; I had to head into town to reach the highway south to Couva. Carefully merging into traffic I head toward my destination, my trusty GPS giving turn directions.

While I have driven on the left side many times in the UK, Ireland and Australia I realized that each had unique “quirks” that had best be learned to keep from becoming a statistic.
And Trinidad has some “quirks”!

The most important one is what’s going on the shoulders...that’s where the taxies stop (not yellow cabs, but ordinary cars with an H on the license plate) and other use as a passing lane.
And that’s where the real story was!

While not legal, many use the shoulder to pass the long lines of backed up traffic. Vendors work the inside lane with peanuts, drinks and other food items to make the wait more bearable. “So there I was”, about to turn when I looked into the rearview mirror (just before) and in a blur I saw a small car moving at a high rate of speed trying to get to the front of the lane and duck back into the traffic headed toward town...cutting across the lane I was in he swerved, narrowly missing me, a concrete barrier and a large dump truck...wow! I’m sure glad I looked twice!

Now here is the irony...Trinidadians are very polite people, gently of nature and easy going....UNTIL they get behind the wheel of a car (not all but some) and “schzammm” they turn into “road warriors”!

Doubles

The “ramblin retiree” has been spreading his wings lately. First it was Jamaica, Caymans and Cozumel (on a cruise)...then Trinidad. Recently I was asked to do some work down in Trinidad. Now I “had” said I’d done enough international travel (more than forty countries), but, this offer was interesting enough to accept.

Arriving late in an evening rain and jumping into work the next day, I didn’t really have any time to sample any Trinidadian sights, sounds or food. However, and life is full of “however”, on the last day I was treated to a local favorite called a “doubles.”

Along the perimeter road around the Port of Spain airport were a selection of roadside vendors, some with a cart and a canopy and others were more elaborate, with popup tents. Under a large tent was “Richards”, said to serve the best (and safesty) “doubles”.

Doubles is a common street food in Trinidad and Tobago. It is a sandwich made with two flat fried breads, called "bara" (hence the name "doubles"), filled with curried chick peas or garbanzo beans, commonly called channa (from Hindi/Bhojpuri "chanaa"). Topped with a variety of spicy chutneys (mango, cucumber, coconut, tamarind) and extra pepper sauce (ranging from a dash "slight" to much more), this delicacy is undoubtedly the most popular fast food in Trinidad and Tobago. It is usually eaten for breakfast.

Since these little delicacies are usually sold by roadside vendors, which I’ve normally steered clear of (no need temping those little “microbugs” lurking in roadside cuisine) I was reluctant to try one.

Our host ordered three bags of doubles, six each, to feed everyone at our exit meeting. One normal, one hot and one that was said to be “really spicy” (read that as HOT!).

Once seated everyone grabbed a “double” and began to munch away...they are really juicy so care is needed not to have the sauce dribble down your hand and arm. The other non-Trinidadian and I looked on longingly as the aroma waffled around the room and everyone, slurping away, seemed to be really enjoying their “double”.

Well fear of the little microbugs finally gave way to temptation. We cut ours into four pieces and said...”I’ll just try this little piece”...a forth. Wow...that was so good we tried more!

Fortunately, the next morning, we both got on the airplane back to Houston with no ill effects and a pleasant memory of having had a “double”.

Buc-ee’s...”It’s a Texas Thang”

It was dark when I left the house, just a purple ribbon, trimmed in pink, peeking above the eastern horizon. The plan was to get through Houston before peak traffic congestion. I was headed for San Antonio and a couple of days work.

Clear of Houston I stopped at a Micky D’s for coffee and a McMuffin (my wife frowns on those!). Since I don’t get those often, I really enjoyed myself (munching and sipping...man their coffee is hot!) as I headed out I-10.

Soon I started seeing the Buc-ee’s signs for jerky, fudge and “Buc-ee Nuggets” ( !Buc-ee Nuggets!?). Spaced out, every so many miles, (109 to go, then 85, then 55 and on and on) they entertained me as the mile rolled beneath my wheels.

As I drove on I recalled a recent story I’d heard about ABC News profiling Buc-ee’s on the evening news...”really clean bathrooms” was the attraction.

Well...soon I came on another Buc-ee’s sign saying “can you hold it” and I understood what they meant! I had to go! Remember that big cup of Micky’s java?

Now the signs took on a different meaning! I really wanted to stop there, to see what all the fuss was about, AND I really needed to go...which one would win out?

The miles crept by, my speed increased from a leisurely cruise to a more lead footed, gas guzzling one... a race against time and nature!

Finally!! I crested a hill and there it was, like an oasis shimmering in the distance...I’d made it!

Kinda anticlimactic from here on...yes they have very nice bathrooms (ahhhhhh!) and a great variety of shopping (good thing my wife wasn’t with me)...they even had a $3,000.00 mesquite rocker!

I managed not to buy anything, but more coffee and headed on my way.Now I can say I’ve stopped at Buc-ee’s....”It’s a Texas Thang” (that’s what the sign said).

Diamonds in the Mountain

After a long flight in one of Continental’s “mailing tubes” (Embraer Regional Jet) and a two hour drive to my destination in the Shenandoah Valley, I just wanted to grab a smooth glass of wine and supper.

Road weary I asked the young lady at the hotel desk if there was a nice local restaurant nearby. “Just down the street” she said...so not wanting to drive anymore I headed that way.

As I pulled into the parking lot I noticed the parking lot was full...seemed odd at this early hour, about 5:00 PM, and most of the cars were what I’ve always referred to as “retirees’ cars”...Mercury Grand Marquees, “Caddies” and Lincoln Town Cars.

Entering I noticed that the restaurant was dated, old paneled walls, heavy nautical type tables and chairs, old yellowed light fixtures and ceiling tiles and...aromatic (smokey).

The hostess asked the usual how many (I looked back to check if anyone had come in with me) and smoking or non (it smelled like it wouldn’t make any difference). “Just me” I said.

Seated I looked around and wondered if I hadn’t wandered into the dining room of a nursing home. Most, if not all, were senior citizens (bear in mind I’m about to go on Medicare), on walkers, oxygen trolleys’, and various other senior “appliances”.

They all seemed to know each other, laughing, smoking (yep...puffing away) and lifting their “toddies” in toasts to each other they were all milling around, having a grand time visiting each other’s tables.

I became totally engrossed in their joy, in-spite of ailments, physical status or age they were enjoying their night out.

It was unexpected but enjoyable...can’t remember what I ate (the wine was fine) as I was too busy listening to their laughter, stories (sounded like some were tall tales...oh yea!) and watching their joy.

When I finally departed I had been refreshed from my long day of traveling. Many were still there, I felt like I’d learned a lesson...you’re never too old to laugh and enjoy what you have (they were still there) and not what you don’t (youth and health).

So enjoy!

NO BOARDING PASS!

In this day in time, where paranoia runs rampant...and the TSA has become the “Godzilla” of federal bureaucracies, playing on our fears, a terrorist under every rock and airline terminal a maze of security checks and blue shirted people everywhere...would you think you could get on a plane with no boarding pass?

“No way” you say! “Oh yea” I respond!...gather around and let me tell you the story.

I had gone to Pittsburgh for a few days of consulting, and all had gone really well. Flush with accomplishment I headed for the airport about noon, for a 2:00 PM flight. Work complete, airport security behind me I settled down for a nice lunch at TGIF and a rare luncheon splurge of a glass of wine (I knew it was five o’clock somewhere).

Lunch finished, a warm buzz from the wine, I headed for the gate. Passing one of those huge (at least 30 screen) arrival / departure boards (there not boards anymore but video extravaganzas) I noticed my flight said DELAYED. “Rut roh, rotsa ruck”...that is never good, especially in the middle of the day!

Arriving at the gate the poor young lady working the podium was already besieged with the inevitable barrage of questions, which to her credit she handled with patience and humor (stick around she’ll loose it later). Sitting near the podium I picked up (without getting in that long line) that our (B-737) flight was on a mechanical delay, “but no fear the mechanics are arriving on the next flight from Newark.”

Ok...that sounded plausible.

So I sat back and began reading my book and listening to the long line of people explaining to the young lady how important it was that “they” get to Houston so “they” could connect with their flight to wherever. She very politely listened and said she would know something shortly and would make an announcement.

Before this story becomes an epic novel, on a James Michener scale, let’s fast forward a few hours.

The mechanics arrived from Newark, opened panels and shined their flashlights into darken mechanical spaces and finally pronounced they’d found the problem...but the part was back in Newark! I’m not trying to second guess them, but being a retired pilot, I know that the problem had been diagnosed and the solution suspected....so why would you send mechanics, their tools and no parts?

When the young lady at the podium (her rosy cheeks getting darker) made that announcement....the scramble was on!

The arm waving, hand gestures and voice levels, around the podium began to rise by the minute. The once placid young lady’s cheeks began to turn a crimson red as she valiantly tried to handle the situation.

Hang with me...we’re almost there.

From somewhere in the gathering gloom of dusk and the ever increasing rain showers appeared a Continental Connection Bombardier Q400! Our young crimson cheeked agent announced that anyone wanting to get to Houston tonight (implying the part ain’t getting here today) could hop on board this mystery airplane and connect in Newark.

Momentarily stunned, the heard thundered toward the departure gate (why yes I was in the heard, taking a quick assessment of my chance on plane A and NOT seeing it going anywhere soon). To our surprise our boarding passes were surrendered at the gate and we were told that everything would be sorted out by the time we got to Newark...”just get on and find a seat!”
“WHAT...give up my boarding pass, my only proof of purchase...what’ll the TSA say....you’ve got to be kidding me”! Surely there was a TSA agent somewhere saying...”hey, wait a minute, you can’t let those people out on the ramp, much less on that airplane without a boarding pass.”

It’s only a short fifty five minute flight to Newark...up and down the aisle the conversation was all the same...“I don’t have a boarding pass...what’s going to happen in Newark”?

I have to take my hat off to Continental...we were all met at the gate with boarding passes for the continuing flight to Houston. WOW!! Kudos to Continental for taking a bad situation and making it work.

Exhausted but still hopeful we all dashed through Newark’s myriad concourses, more shops and restaurants than gates, arriving just in time to board our flight. WOW...again.

Disheveled, tired and thankful we arrived in Houston late in the evening, no worse for the experience and, in my case, HOME!

Commons sense does occasionally prevail.

Thunder rumbled and lightening flashed across the horizon...it was 4:30 in the morning.

Looking out our window on the ship we could see the offshore platforms dotting the Texas coast, shrouded in heavy rain and illuminated by their work lights, as our ship worked its way toward a dawn docking in Galveston.

The rains on the last day of our cruise were like tears of sadness...it had been a great cruise. We had departed Galveston seven days ago on the Carnival Conquest, under brilliantly blue skies and calm seas. Each day had been gloriously announced by golden sun rises and beautifully blue seas.

With over one thousand miles to Jamaica, our first stop, we had two full days at sea to explore and learn our ship....and learn we had to do as the fourteen decks offered challenges of getting where you wanted to go, as few decks allow a transit along the nine hundred feet of ship.

To the lyrics of the Beach Boys song Kokomo....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYxJg8GMjhQ&feature=response_watch

Aruba Jamaica ooo I wanna take you

Bermuda Bahama come on pretty mama

Key Largo Montego baby why don't we go Jamaica

Off the Florida Keys There's a place called Kokomo

That's where you wanna go to get away from it all

Bodies in the sand

Tropical drink melting in your hand

We'll be falling in love

To the rhythm of a steel drum band Down in Kokomo

our wake churned and slid behind the ship to mark our progress.

Tours and shopping in Jamaica, Grand Cayman and Cozumel offered glimpses of island life and a chance to reacquaint our legs with solid ground.

Sadly, as all good things, we steamed around the tip of the Yucatan Peninsula and crossed the Gulf of Mexico back to Galveston.

It was our first cruise...but not our last.

Hummingbirds

We put out the hummingbird feeder yesterday, to assist in their fall migration south, and like a new restaurant the customers were slow to come...today, however, the words out (good reviews I guess) and they are swarming, eight or more at a time! Note that the feeder is now half empty...and that is just since yesterday afternoon!

Trying to take pictures of hummingbirds requires almost the speed of their wings, which is around 54 beats per second! One second they are swarming around the feeder, fighting for space and a prime table at the restaurant...then the next, by some unheard warning they all fly off in a flurry of beating wings.

This arrival and departure occurs often, no pattern, just often...which leads you to wonder why? Where do they go, perhaps another feeder? Or, perhaps to rest, we have seen them just sitting in our bougainvillea baskets and up in the tree down by the lake.

Trying to identify them is another issue, there are several types...Ruby Throated, Green Violet-ear, Anna’s, and more that we’ve not identified. They move so fast and the time on the feeder is so chaotic that identification is difficult.

We sit on the rockers, just a few feet away with our binoculars and camera, and enjoy these beautiful little creatures.

Great fun to watch.

Ok...let’s try a book review...I haven’t tried that yet.

Riders of the Wind was written by Robert F DeBurgh. He has written an engaging book about early aviation, from 1920’s to 1940. The book was given to me by a close friend and it languished in the guest bedroom up at the lake house for over a year. At a recent family reunion he asked me how I enjoyed the book. With some degree of embarrassment I had to admit that I hadn’t read it yet...”but I will before next year’s reunion!”

And I have.

With summer’s heat slowly breaking, replaced by a low pressure area off the Texas coast, bringing low ceilings (the clouds hanging in the tree tops) and gentle rains that dripped off the boat house dock, I finally picked up the book.

While historically a blend of fact and fiction it had potential, however, started off ever so slowly. Charlie Cross is our main character, who taught himself to fly on his father’s farm in New Jersey. Now as a lifelong pilot I found that a little hard to believe (remembering my early experiences...with an instructor no less!). Anyway he did (in the book) and the story goes on through his career, marriage and starting an airline that somehow survived the Depression and ends as WWII erupts.

Flying a dizzying array of aircraft I was constantly “Googling” them to get a better feel for what he was flying.

Mixing real and imaginary people (he marries a cousin of Anne Morrow...Charles Lindberg’s wife), the book explores the early airmail and airline days. Charlie and Doretta emerge as early pioneers in aviation, he starting the airline, she an early pilot starting a flight school and rising to Captain in Charlie’s airline. As if this wasn’t enough they are enticed to do early route exploration work in Brazil...this is one of the best parts!

All is going well, Charlie and Doretta’s businesses grow, she constantly pushing the boundaries of women in aviation until the depression hits...their survivors and they gather all their employees around them into an extended family and suffer the pains and joys of an extended family.

And then the war arrives!

Winds of Fire is the sequel, and I’ve ordered it, and it will cover the war years up into the 1960’s.

Give it a try (especially if you like aviation) you’ll enjoy it!

Retired....really?

I am beginning to think that consulting is like a windstorm. For a while the skies are clear and the wind calm...then off in the distance you see the dust starting to kick up. Before you know it swirls around you blowing everything around and you’re scurrying around trying to keep everything together.

Well that’s the way it’s been lately. I had been busy earlier in the year, then the summer doldrums set in, no rain and record setting temperatures. Suddenly my lazy days disappeared like little “dust devils” announcing the coming storm.

And so it blew...for three weeks I flew around this country like a leaf in the storm...here then there, back and forth until I finally came to rest...home again.

Actually it was great fun.

The grand finale was working on a spill response drill offshore San Diego, using a C-130. The goal was to simulate spraying a dispersant over an oil spill, using water.

Simple you say?

Well to get permission we had to get approval from the Coast Guard, U.S. Navy, California Fish and Game and the Federal Aviation Authority. All agencies were very supportive so it wasn’t really all that bad...the two days of flying went very smoothly.

If you’ve read any of the “Rambling of a Retiree” you will notice this blogger has had a diverse year...”oh yea!!”

July 2009

July was stifling; heat waves shimmered off the sun baked ground, cracks opened across parched fields and lawns, gardens withered and died. Temperatures rose daily into the 100 degree range...causing everything, human, and animal to scurry for a shady place to survive. Plants yellowed, drooping and ceased to produce fruit.

July’s blistering heat and rainless days finally came to an end two weeks ago. Much needed rains came in waves, one each week for a while. The cloud covered sky and the rains also brought a break in the days of 100 degree plus days...both a blessing.

The road sides and the un-watered yards quickly returned to green. Our grass was fortunate as we have lake water to keep it green (others suffered if they were part of the city’s water conservation measures).

However, with all good things, it came to an end. Crystal blue skies returned with only puffy clouds to tease and remind us of rain clouds. Temperatures quickly came back, turning the moist ground into a steam bath of evaporation. Oh...did I mention the mosquitoes? They too rejuvenated by the rains have burst forth in ever larger numbers...and hungry!

It seemed like only yesterday that we wished for warmer weather...now (how quickly we forget) we are counting the days until the first cool days of fall begin.

Never happy, always complaining we march through time wishing something else and not seeing the blessings in what we have. I’m looking...really!, for the positives of 100 degree plus dry days...”really!”

July 4, 2009

Well another Landrum family reunion is history (and a long history it is...two years!), the food consumed and the tables cleaned everyone settled in to wait for the evening fireworks display.

Our community of Onalaska puts on a great 4th. of July fireworks display, this year complete with a military “flyby”.

However, as evening approached, the wispy hot wind of the day gave way and the winds began to kick up on the lake (the best place to view the fireworks) and the wave became large and choppy.

A few brave neighbors dared to venture out...”our crew” elected to sit on the dock and see what the neighbors would produced...and produce they did!

As darkness pushed away the scorching sun, homes up and down our cove began a“dueling fireworks display!” It was almost like...”Ok...that was nice but check this one out!” Kaboom...and the rockets’ red glare burst through the night sky. Left bank, right bank, up the cove and down the cove they launched their best to a chorus of “ahhhh and ooohhhh”. (This pictures does not even begin to do justice to the show)

The show in Onalaska lasted about forty five minutes plus a rough boat ride back, for those who dared, (wind and waves)...ours lasted about an hour plus...and we stayed dry...well from water anyway.

The day had been “Texas Hot” (103°) but the air-conditioning and the breeze on the dock kept us cool.

The Old Men and the Boat

Have you ever observed something that caught your imagination? Maybe a dilapidated old barn covered with vines, a old tractor sitting rusting in a field or a boat moored that hadn’t been moved or touched in a long time? What was their history, who were their owners and why had they been allowed to waste away?

Well I recently found one of those questionable old relics. Across from our dock, on the other side of our cove was a large old boat house, covered in cobwebs and bird dropping. The siding came down almost to the dock so it was hard to see what treasury was hidden there. As we would motor past the old building you could tell, hidden inside, that it was a fairly large old wooden boat, maybe thirty feet long or longer hanging on straps.

Recently we observed our neighbor across the way starting to pull off the old siding, re-nailing many of the old dock planks and cleaning up the boat house. Now, mostly uncovered, we could see that indeed it was a large old wooden cabin cruiser. I spent a little time on the internet trying to identify the old boat. I couldn’t find one like it; however, I feel it is a 1930 – 1940 vintage boat.

Curiosity now really had me…so I drove around to the other side of the cove and knocked on the door. Introducing myself I explained my curiosity. Smiling my neighbor explained that he had just bought the property and really didn’t know anything about the boat as it had already been sold and he was waiting for the new owners to come and take it away.

To his knowledge and checking with our other neighbors, the boat had been there for years and that several years ago the old man and another old man began a restoration. Replacing some of the hull planking, repairing topside rot and varnished the cabin, they slowly worked away. Seems they were cranky old men, they were reported to have long, loud and sometimes angry disagreements on how to proceed that could be heard up and down the cove. (I could almost see Jack Lemon and Walter Matthau).

Eventually the restoration stopped, the siding was put up and no one saw the old men or any work being done on the boat. Time went on and the spiders returned and did their work covering the boat barn with cobwebs and the birds decorated the roof and decks with colorful splattering of their droppings.

Our new neighbor has promised to find out more about the old men and to ask the new owners of the boat about its history. So…there will have to be a part two to this story.

Until then…here is a picture of the old boat, the afternoon light dancing patterns across its hull, waiting for “the rest of the story.”

Heat Advisory:

The sun rose over the eastern horizon to an already hot Texas landscape. Soon the morning dew was shimmering in evaporation, adding to the already oppressive humidity. Open burning bans and water rationing are being instituted in our county and surrounding counties. Fortunately we are allowed to pump water from the lake.

Welcome to a hot Texas summer.

An unusually mild spring has abruptly changed into an early and very hot summer. Heat advisories are up everywhere and the sounds of air-conditioner are grinding away, valiantly trying to keep their occupants cool.

Lawn mowers are cranked up in the early morning hour, adding to the air-conditioner hum, to add a wakeup call. However, given the heat, mowing in the early morning hours, while the temperature in “only” in the 80’s, is the only way!

By late morning the neighborhood mowers, yard workers, walkers and anyone liking the outdoors are forced back into their air-conditioned shelters...waiting for the cool of evening .

Air-conditioning...wow, I can’t believe, that as a boy in the 50’s and 60’s, we lived without air-conditioning, and in Houston no less!

Well the lawn is mowed, the water turned on...now it’s time to go back to the cool of the house.

LIFE ON THE LAKE

It is now early June, the heat is really starting to set in and yard needs water every other day. So...sitting down on the dock has to wait until late afternoon. One of the enjoyable parts of our evenings on the dock is watching the ducks. Several of the ducks now have little ones, “ducklings”.

One of interest is a duck that showed last year, a white duck that we named “Aflac”. Now all of our ducks are your basic mallards so a white duck really sticks out! Well “Aflac” is now a mother, having paired up with a “regular” mallard, and has produced an unusual brood of ducklings...two yellow ones and two standard little brown ducklings.

Like the elusive Loc Ness monster, “Aflac” has been hard to photograph, as she stays down the cove from our house and I’ve only been able to get a glimpse of her as I pass in my boat. For now I will just have to show you a grainy photo of her scurrying away with her little brood. This amalgamation of ducks has caused a great controversy up and down the cove...”will the two yellow ducks eventually turn white (like their mother) or will they join their siblings as your standard mallard duck?” Stay tuned for the next episode of the “Darwin Ducks.”

The days are becoming warmer...but hey it's Texas! Bobbie garden is blooming and the first fruits of her labor have already been eaten. Lush, juicy ripe tomatoes are now gracing many of our meals. I really love ripe tomatoes with just salt and pepper...nothing better (yummy...is that a word?). Green beans are now coming off and soon we will have others to add to the boundy of her garden. Eggplant, asparagus, beans, tomatoes, okra and fresh herbs are now available to compliment the catfish, white bass and crappie...all fresh and all deliciously prepared. The Good Lord has indeed blessed us!

The Church on the Lake

We visited a small church on Sunday, on a hill , in the trees and overlooking a lake. A beautiful place for a church...I was moved to capture the moment...here are a few words "trying" to capture those magical moments.

The Church on the lake

Down the dusty road,
thick trees providing a canopy of shade,
glimpses of the lake flicker by,
no hint of the glory to behold

Almost hidden in the trees
a wrought iron gate appears
announcing a cemetery
and a church on the hill.

Up the winding drive you see,
the small neatly maintained cemetery,
grave stones marking history’s tribute
to those passing through.

Then the stone pillared porch framing the door,
that when opened is flooded with light,
mornings glorious light off the lake,
that baths the sanctuary with a heavenly light.

Music made by man pours out
paying tribute to God’s glory,
as the beauty of the trees and lake pour in
showing the best of Gods creation.

Love and harmony,
praise and prayer,
well up from all within,
the little church on the lake.

The Birth of an Aviator

Many years ago, on the island of Puerto Rico, lived a young boy that dreamed of many things. His Dad would take him to an old abandoned airstrip, not far from their house; whenever they heard the jets come overhead. It was during one of those magical afternoons, puffy clouds blowing in off the ocean, the roar of a jet engine as they did “touch and goes” that the seed was planted.

The year was 1956, the jets were F-86E’s from the 156 ANG Air Wing. What a wonderful roar they made, swooping down for a landing, the little puffs of smoke the tires left as the touched down and then the roar of the engine as they added power to go around for another landing. The breeze off the ocean, the rustle of palm trees and the smell of jet fuel were mesmerizing, magical and wonderful to the boy.

Soon he was taking every cent he had to buy “FLYING” magazine and other aviation magazines. Their pages became dog eared and worn as he read and re-read the articles, looked longingly at the pictures and dreamed of flying.

The Lord blessed that young man, guided him to Army flight training, protected him during his tour of Viet Nam and gifted him with a fantastic corporate job flying to all parts of the world and in many magnificent airplanes and helicopters.

Forty three years of “soaring with the eagles” passed and now he is retired.

His walls are hung with memories, his eyes wrinkled from years of bright sunlight...all reflect the joy that he had, and the joy that he still feels when he hears an airplane or helicopter fly over. The seed was planted, carefully nurtured and now the harvest is “oh so sweet”!

That boy was me.

When it rains...

Saturday and Sunday it rained like a jungle monsoon...dark bellied clouds streamed across the horizon, dumping heavy showers with thunderous claps laced with brilliant bolts of lightening. In two days we measured over 5" of rain...a real "frog strangler" as they call it down here. Then, as all good stories end...the sun came out, brilliant blue skies replaced the battle ship gray clouds and everything seemed to explode into color. The grass turned a verdant green, the flowers burst into their rainbow of colors and God's glory could be seen everywhere!

Yesterday and today my wife and I had lunch on the back deck, binoculars in hand, watching all the birds enjoy this weather...blue birds, cardinals, finches, and the ducks flying up and down the cove. Soon the ducks will show up with their young, we had two families last year. It was a great pleasure to watch them grow. We spent many an evening down on the dock tossing little morsel to the babies and watching them scurry around...mama always keeping a watchful eye on her babies, and I suspect us.

An old treasure...

While remodeling the lake house we found, hidden behind a trellis and over grown potato vines, an old, hand operated, water pump. Its possibilities were endless. We decided to make a small pond water feature using the pump as a center piece. We dug the hole, placed the liner, lined the edges with rocks and plumbed the pump to have water coming out the spicket...add underwater lights and it looks great!

Spring break...Texas style

Ahhhhh....spring has indeed sprung. The fronts roll through with their thunderous rains and blustery winds, followed by brilliantly blue skies and balmy temperatures. Yes spring is here! As they say down here in Texas...”if you don’t like the weather , stick around a few minutes, it will change!”

Spring break was great this year...the grandkids, boated, swam and roared around the neighborhood on the golf cart. They are back in school now...most of the damage has been repaired and our tired old bones are almost back to their normal aches and pains.

Brrrrrr!

Just as we thought "spring has sprung", along comes a cold front...well more like a cool front with rain. Most to the garden beds have been weeded, the first tomatoes have been planted and the herb garden is up and growing. I shouldn't complain as we are way behind on rain and need it!! So bring it on.

Spring cleanup:

The leaves are starting to decorate the trees, the grass is starting to turn green, and grow! Even the birds are singing their spring tunes and the bugs are back, yes they too must sleep in the winter. Yesterday we cleaned our garden pond and weeded the beds...oh yes that’s the bad part of spring...weeds, they seem to arrive first and grow with wild abandon, consuming every patch of ground they can find. Ahhh well that’s spring…”bring it on!”

The first signs of spring

Along the upper Texas coast the first signs of spring are weeds! Yes, weeds, they pop up in your grass, flower beds, and in the cracks in the pavement...everywhere! As annoying as that is, it's still a sign of spring. I am itching to rake the last of the winter leaves, put out the weed and feed, and mow the grass. I know that is just a fleeting moment...soon I'll be complaining about mowing, the heat, and weeds (summer weeds this time). You see we have weeds just about all the time...it never gets cold enough down here to kill them off.

Hummm lets see...need to put new gas and filters in the mower, edger and blower (gotta have that mechanization you know), sharpen the tools and...he mumbled as he wandered off toward the garage.

Retirees do that you know!

Another day:

Wow...what a difference a day makes! Yesterday spring like temperature and blue skies have been replaced with low hanging battleship grey skies and cool damp winds. Well that's southeast Texas winters for you. Ahhh but spring is just around the corner.

Spring...well almost!

I know its February, but here in south east Texas the weather is teasing us...warm days and cool nights. It enough to make you want to "dig"...you know turn that dirt and put seeds and plants in the ground. Well in lu (is that a word?) of that (tempting as it was to dig and plant) I cleaned up the garage. How exciting...but you have to know that much "junk" from last years hurricanes still cluttered the garage. It is now straight...not orderly nor totally clean but straight and everything is in place. Now...if I can just keep it that way.

Well the year is flying by...all the good intentions I had to regularly post on this site have, like many other of my intentions, been mired in life (and they told me I'd have more time once I retired!). The weather is no excuse either...it's been cold, warm, slightly hot then back to cold, warm....well you can see the trend. Texas winters are nothing to sneeze about...actually there is a lot of sneezing going on.

The holidays are gone, the decorations are once again boxed and stored in their various areas (attics,[garage and house] and the little room under the stairwell). We've had sinus infections that slowed us down and those to seem to be slowly going away. So...the hope is for a return to a more normal life. That being said...what is normal anymore? Anyway here we go!