Beautiful Hawaii, wonderful snorkeling.

Beautiful Hawai'i.

You cannot beat the beautiful and warmer waters of the islands.

I recently stayed on the island of Maui. It's been 2 1/2  years since I've been there and I didn't realize how much I loved and missed it until I stepped out of the Kahului airport.

The weather was perfect nearly every day with highs in the low 80's and cool ocean breezes. Signature rainbows were present in the mountain country every day and arching from the coast to the island of Moloka'i.

For the first time, we left our snorkel gear at home and rented equipment from one of the local swim shops. I'm a bit of a germaphobe so I did some research and discovered SNORKEL BOB's actually scrubs and disinfects their gear individually- and their face masks and snorkels were of very good quality. We picked out one of our favorite snorkel spots, Slaughter house beach or Kapalua beach.

Despite our attempts to stay on West coast time, 3 hours later than Maui, the parking at the beaches was just as crowded because everyone else had the same idea. The earlier the better I say. Arriving by 8 a.m. Maui time proved to be the perfect hour to acquire quality parking and prime sand realestate. (most of the local restaurants and hotels don't start breakfast until 7:30 or 8 a.m.) We had rented Tommy Bahama sand chairs for the week and not only was this worth every penny, but secured your sandy space without a problem.

I'm a fairly good swimmer, but I have to admit a little uneasiness getting into the rougher ocean waters of Maui in nearly 3 years.

Getting the fins on my giant feet proved easier than I expected. I only gulped a couple mouthfuls of water.( Only recommended if you need to purge breakfast or gross out the other snorkelers.) The  mask needed adjustment, which should be done BEFORE getting into the water, but after it was defogged and securely on it never leaked or fogged. (if you forgot the defog liquid provided by the rental business, liberally spit into the mask and swirl it around. Works!)

Looking down into the clear water is like entering an entirely new world. As in times before, I was mesmerized and caught up in the delight of all the exotic fish, eels and sea slugs. I just floated along with the massive schools of the silvery Bar jack fish or beside the nearly invisible Needle fish, (A'ha). I had forgotten how wonderful and how much I enjoyed this bit of the vacation.

On our first visit to the islands, in 1989, we snorkeled in Hanama Bay on Oahu. We had a baggie of peas that we passed out to the fish and marveled how lovely to lure them to our sides and nibble out of the hands. A "Must do" touted in all the tour books! Certainly it was incredible- but a cautionary tale....

When we vacationed in Maui for the first time, in 1998, we thought to repeat that wonderous experience and took our ziplocks of peas out to the bay of Slaughterhouse beach. This beach is actually large piles of rock you have to walk over to enter the water, but the fish variety is amazing.. . . and much more aggressive. (regard the warnings to NOT feed the fish).

I offered a few peas to a pretty little rainbow fish who delicately nibbled it from the palm of my hand. As a half a pea sank downward toward the sea bottom, a group of Parrot fish snatched it and began surrounding me. As they tugged at my fins, my shirt, and ripped a hole in the baggie, I knew I was in trouble.

The fish called out to their other coral eating friends with razor sharp teeth and I was the center of a feeding frenzy. Remember, they eat coral and you need a tough under bite for that job.  Rapidly getting out of the water, but forgetting to leave the baggie behind, I clambered onto the rocks, followed by the fish, now leaping out of the water, gnashing at air and missing my fingers by millimeters.

Crawling further out of the ocean, I looked up to see a woman perched in a beach chair with her children. The water churned around me and fish were flapping on shallow rocks. My chirps of "help!" fell on her deaf ears and those of Mr. Man, floating behind me, watching me being attacked by the beautiful fish turned rabid for green veges.  The woman sitting in her chair started screaming shrilly, "SHARK! SHARK!" apparently the only sea life she imagined could be causing such a frothing of fish and a crazy lady. As the other beachers and snorklers fled in panic, I flung the baggie backwards and ran over/crawled the rocks to get myself out. Lesson learned. DO NOT FEED THE FISH OR WILDLIFE. Do NOT expect rescue from any kind of mauling or fish attack. You will be on your own!

This months trip to Maui , 2016, also had its cliff hanging moments, but the snorkeling was delightful. After floating along for over an hour, I looked up to find Mr. Man to see if he was ready to get out of the water. (I recommend you snorkel with bright colored t-shirts to make it easier to locate your swim buddy out in the water. Everyone looks alike out there). As I looked up, I was surrounded by fellow snorkelers bobbing up and down looking at me. For half a second, I thought myself the sea princess, attracting all to my side. One man spit out his snorkel and pointed down, saying, "There are sea turtles swimming in circles under you." I quickly looked down , and there they were. A huge turtle , with a 3 1/2 foot shell , and a smaller friend.

From my position, Mr. GO-PRO snorkeler was unable to get his shot and wanted me to get out of his way . Selfishly, I said, "I don't think so" and left my legs, and ample torso where they were so the turtles could finish their circles. Then, I followed them to the shallow ledges of the cliffs until I could no more. I really, really wanted to touch them. They were that close, but now that I am more mature and more respectful of other species, I didn't  molest them at all, kept the other folks from reaching to touch them , and made one of the most memorable Maui memories ever! I was a lucky lady this day!

Snorkeling is fun. Try it. You won't sink. The ocean buoy's you up. Wear a ton of sun block on your backside and don't forget to look up every few minutes to keep your bearings on the shore and your proximity to shallow coral and volcanic rock lining the coves. Be careful to not touch the coral, (it kills it for years) or get cut on it or the volcanic rock. (it scars and hurts!). Been there, done that!

Aloha from the beautiful island of Mau'i. I can't wait to leave and get back here again!

Definitely it's Spring

Definitely it's Spring.

Somehow, those of us who live in Southern California have missed fall and winter. It seems as if its always Spring here or summer. There were a few days of much needed rain, but I don't think the thermometer ever went below 40 degrees during the night or day in my part of the state.
 I put the down comforters on the beds with their beautiful duvet covers for show in October.  Attempts to sleep with the comforter on only resulted in sweaty nights as I panted under their "comforting" weight trying to sleep.
  Bedroom windows were left wide open with the ceiling fan on turbo speed, trying to promote a mini cold air system so I could snuggle under the blankets, but this was thwarted by the all house heater which is set to cook us all alive at 74 degrees because the house is full of elderly people who's bones will freeze and break at anything less. I pondered my options to sleeping outside. I am an avid camper so the great outdoors is a treat- except for my unconquered fear of spiders. In addition to those creepy crawly's  my yard has become the local breeding ground for the imported brown widow. Risking death by spider or hyperthermia. What a choice.

With the average night time temperatures in the high 50's-60's, I'm feeling better about sleeping indoors on top of the bedding with a fine meshed screen protecting me from the spiders and Zika infested mosquitos. (My neighbor is breeding these little harborers of disease and deliverers of itchy welts, in his stagnant Fountain of YUCK, just over our fence). I am grateful I do not live in Florida where the insects grow to  prehistoric proportions or Australia- where the spiders run at you to bite and kill you.

I am enjoying these few days of Spring. Mr. Weatherman assures us that hot days are imminent and rain something of the past. These are the few perfect days of my part of the world. Warm enough to wear shorts and tank tops, cool enough not to be baked alive if shade is sparse. The comforters are rolled down and will soon make their way into their storage bags, replaced with cotton sheets and fluffy pillows.

So Spring, stay a little longer and let us savor the sweet smells of newly blossomed flowers and multitudes of baby birds chirping in the tree tops. ( wow, doesn't that sound like a Hallmark Card? Have I missed my calling?)

Today is one of the perfect ones .  I'll catalog it  into memory banks.

Happy day to all of you , near and far. I hope you have a perfect moment or day soon! Cherish it.

I lost her in produce

The day to find out if the little mother, Mr. Man's 90 year old mum, can do some shopping on her own. She has been staying with us for the last few months having eye surgery and recovering from the loss of her beloved after 72 years. She has done fairly well but has not acclimated to living with her amazon daughter -in-law and her baby boy. We have faced many challenges and obstacles together, her and I. She is 4 foot 7 inches and weighs 100 lb. I outweigh her by nearly double and tower over her at 5 feet 10 inches.

I have lost track of her in department stores, (she is shorter than the clothing racks), the library, the drug store and now at the supermarket. Strangers want to hug her because she is so little and cute. I get angry face. No checker or manager has ever run around a counter and given me a hug because I was little and "darling to the max!"

It is anticipated that mom move into a small apartment less than a mile from 3 of her grandchildren and one of her 4 sons. To do that, she must be able to provide herself with basic care and hygiene, feed herself and know who and how to call for help. Today was our marketing day. I was there for support but was overseeing her purchases to make sure she was finding all the items on her list. Her eye sight is not good, even after bilateral cataract surgery and it seems she has difficulty reading the microscopic writing on the labels. Her food choices were brightly colored and large lettered on the labels. (A genius marketing choice by Best foods, and Nabisco products).

I lost her in produce and toured around the store looking for her little white head. I had her wear a bright blue shirt so she could be spotted easily from afar but this was doing me no good. It seemed to be little old lady day with dozens of white heads and blue shirts of various shades. None of them was short enough. I was beginning to think she had left the store without me and now wandered lost in the town but I caught a glimpse of  her in the unlikeliest of places - behind a cardboard display in the pet food aisle - looking for cereal. I directed her to the cereal aisle and told her to meet me at the checkout lane when she was done.

When I saw her coming toward me pushing the shopping cart, she looked like a child, her head just above the handlebars. She was very excited at her find of the Hostess pastry display at an end-cap, and she shows me her choices of hostess cupcakes and chocolate donuts. We check out and get home- Time spent shopping is 2 hours 15 minutes. The ice cream has melted. A sad loss.

 At home,We are putting our groceries away and little mother is dismayed. Her donuts, cupcakes and box of triscuits are missing. We check all the empty bags and I search the car. Sighing to myself , I head back to the market with the store receipt, approach the same cashier and ask if we have left a bag behind or did it fall off the conveyor belt? She shakes her head no but tells me to get what I have missed and apologizes. No problem. I find the awesome hostess display, resist the twinkies, and check out again. Grand total is $3.10.  As I arrive home, there is little mother, distraught. She is showing me her purse and opening it up and closing it and saying she is sorry. Then I realize, in her excitement to get home with her donut mini pack, she had put them in her purse for safe keeping, along with the rather large triscuit box. She tells me she is probably going to hell for making me go back to the store for something she had all along and I will be going with her because now I am a thief! Assuring her that I will NOT be joining her in Hades, and doubt a theft less than $5 constitutes any prison time. I will make a donation to the stores collection for March of Dimes.

I've told the little mother now that she has made me a thief, am I doomed to be sold off to a brothel next? She is laughing nervously, telling me she is truly repentant and she just won't eat the donuts but I should. Refusing the offer of tainted food obtained illegally-even if it was in error- because at least one of us has some moral standard.

It is 8 hours later and the donuts, cupcakes, and triscuits sit untouched. She won't take them to her room . She's hearing them call her "Liar!" She's saying she will need to ask a priest to forgive her.

Thankfully, I am already forgiven, and do not need a priest to tell me so. I just need to ask Jesus to forgive me and all is well. He died on the cross for all of our sins. This is what Easter is all about. He knows I will make it right with the market. All is well. My conscious is clear. I tell little mother she can rest easy. The police are not coming for her or me. Eat the donuts and enjoy every sweet bite. We are all sinners every day and all we have to do is accept Jesus into our hearts and ask for pardon of our sin sincerely.

Don't let any Hostess product lead you down the path of thievery!!

Happy Easter Everyone.

channeling Pete Seeger and gardening

El Nino has apparently come and gone. All the hype about flooding, freezing weather and massive snowfall  was just that...hype. Yes, we had a few days of heavy rain and it flooded one day. Yes, a lot of snow fell, just not in the Sierras where it is needed most during our eternal drought. The weather has turned unseasonably warm and confused all the citrus so it is now re-blooming and preparing to grow again even though its months ahead of schedule. Unseasonably warm at 90 degrees in February and in the high 70's and 80's in March, there is no sign of the rains here in our wettest month.

I have a little 8 foot by 8 foot garden behind my house that can only be seen from the bathroom window. It is my little secret place and I am the only one who ever goes into it. It dies off in the winter, and gets replanted around Easter. This year, the garden was confused as to what season it was in and went crazy wild growing the vines in every direction and the weeds sprouted overnight to beanstalk heights!

I started to dig out the garden March 1. Stripping it of all the overgrown plants and removing the pots of various dead things until I found the garden path  built from brick pavers buried there. The bird bath had fallen over and was in need of repair. In the corner a little light caught my eye. There she was, my garden Fairy, laying face down in the mud, her little hand extended above the dirt and holding her little garden globe as an SOS beacon. She was in a dismal state with rusted wings, broken off leg and her perch broken in half.

Grateful for her rescue, I gave her a make over and replaced her on her throne to oversee the garden creatures and beckon the butterflies, hummingbirds and finches into the garden.

I sang the garden song to the new plants, channeling Pete Seeger to encourage them to take root. I gave them extra fertilizer to ensure that any tomatoes or herbs brave enough to grow, would have a chance to thrive. The Fairy bobbles and waves her globe to place a rainbow over the newest additions. Garden lizards have returned to make their nests under the geraniums.

My little garden is happy. I am happy. Next time you visit, take a peek out the bathroom window. I hope it makes you happy!

disclaimer: pictured above is NOT my garden but it is my vision for it! I'll post photos when it gets a little more grown up.

The dreaded TSA line

I enjoy traveling. Well, let's say I enjoy going to a new place and experiencing what it offers...then I want to go home.

I really like getting places fast and there is no faster transportation than an airplane. I like to fly. I love to fly. My angst is the airport itself and getting through the TSA line. After I have parked myself by the gate, I am good to go. 

It really isn't unusual to have a fear of flying, or of crowds. I have none of that. My great stressor is getting through the security check and having enough time to get to my plane, without having to hoof it a quarter mile to the flight gate and beat the current distance run record. 

Mr. Man hates to wait for flights so he times his arrival so that sitting by a gate to get onto the plane  isn't even an option. He likes to keep moving and get on as the gate is closing, therefore, not having to wait or lose a precious minute. I don't mind waiting at the gate. I would rather wait so I can collect my thoughts, distress and look like flying around the U.S.A is a daily habit. (God help me if I fly internationally. What will THAT do to me?).

On my last trip, I had many prayer warriors, and friends texting me words of encouragement and hope, praying for travel mercies and safety.  They seem to understand that airports and security lines are my greatest angst. We all have our little quirks and stressors and this is mine.

I was traveling alone this trip. Demanding  Mr. Man to take me to the airport 4 hours before my flight. We compromised and left 3 1/2 hours, allowing 1 hour and 30 minutes for travel to LAX. Well, we made it 50 minutes, which was a good thing because I was detailed searched and my carry on bags emptied and searched, x-rayed 3 times and it was certain my bag would be glowing from all the radiation! When I got the bags back, my wallet and cell phone were gone, oops! and TSA had put them in their little bowl and "forgot" about them. I was instructed to find a bus which took me to a remote airport 10 minutes from the main terminal, showing us the backside of LAX and luxurious private jets not meant for us, and had 20 minutes to settle down before my flight boarded.

So, okay, I made it on. A little inconvenienced and stressed but I made it. The 3 hour drive after the flight to my final destination was a breeze and I had 3 days before having to do it again to go home.

Returning to home sweet home came sooner than I thought it should, but again, returning the rental car the 3 hours back to the airport was a cinch.

As I entered the departure terminal, there was little signage about where my plane was going to be. Finding the one digital screen at the entrance, I made note of the gate and headed to the dreaded TSA line. Heart beating faster as I approached, I was nearly there when I noticed my Drivers License was missing, sliding out of its protective sleeve meant to protect and secure it. OMG! Recovering the ninja warrior buried deep within, I leapt over and under security tapes, slid down the stair case and broke into a gimping middle aged girl run with flailing arms and baggage bumping along behind not sure of which direction the wheels should turn, Why hadn't I taken up marathon running?

Retracing my steps toward the entrance I was trying to calm myself from becoming a hysterical person and truly considered laying down on the floor and wait for the EMS to take me away. Hyperventilating, I felt my blood pressure rise to stroke level and my vision blurred as I panted and sweat throughout my search.

Dragging my luggage all the way back to the entrance, there was my ID, on the ground face up, right in front of the departure screen I had looked over 20 minutes before . I watched as strangers trod over my image not noticing the importance of the ID and with inner reflection of their own battles to gain entrance to the flight gates.

Retrieved the ID and I fell into a chair, and raised up a thankful prayer that I had found the one thing that I needed to get through the dreaded security line and homeward and also that I avoided having a stroke, seizure, apopletic fit, hysteria or heart attack.

As I made my way back to the security line and scrutiny of the officers there, I was asked to step out of the line, and into a vacant check point. Anxiety returning, I was like a lamb submitting to slaughter.

Here is the happy side. I had been tagged very low security risk due to the extensive search leaving LAX  4 days before, and got the free pass through the screening and prodding! Walk on through, do not stop, green light and GO!

Sitting outside my gate with 1 hour and 15 minutes to spare, I had a cold drink, washed my face, took an aspirin ,used the facilities, ate a snack and chatted on the phone. Yes, I did appear to be a seasoned traveler. Outwardly calm and content. The essence of peace. My inner turmoil dissipating as flight time approached.

Once again, as I travel home on the plane, I'm pleased to be going back to my life that I try not to take for granted and hoping that the people waiting for me realize how beloved they are to me and it's never as much fun without them.

And the best: There is Captain Morgan, barking and smiling at me, running around in circles, batting me in the legs with his Frisbee, ready to begin the game where we left off.

There really is no place like home!

No more monkey's swingin' on the bed!

I spent half a lifetime working on the Pediatric unit at the local hospital.

The children on this unit are never critical but can be really sick.

One of my 2 year olds, (James T.) , had been there for several days and had just turned the corner from really sick to just sick. He had been a model patient, laying quietly in his crib, hooked up to his monitors and IV fluids , watching TV and playing with his cars. Parents are encouraged to stay at the child's bedside but this little boy had 5 siblings age 0-6  , and his mom wasn't able to stay with him. Still, he was pretty compliant and never tried to escape his crib with plastic extended sides and lid 4 feet above the mattress- pretty much a cage.

I used to make rounds frequently on the kids, especially those without parents bedside or in Isolation and James T. was no exception.

 James T. was within ear shot of my nursing station, in an Isolation room, but not in line of sight. I heard an unusual noise coming from his room. I went to check and he was laying there all smiles. Left, went back to the desk, and hear the noise again. Checking on James T., He is laying at the opposite side of the bed, IV line twisted. Straighten him out, chat with him and settle him down. After a few more minutes, the noise reoccurs. This time, I was just outside James' room and walk right in. Shocked to see him hanging on the upper bar of his crib, swinging on it like a trapeze artist, getting his feet planted firmly on the cribs side rail for leverage. He has almost worked his head through the plastic roof and ready to hang himself. Horror of horrors! He is still all smiles and pleased at his new found ability and the possibility of escape. Somehow, he found what little bounce was left in the old crib mattress.  He has been caught and now we need to find a safer solution for confinement.

I discussed James T. near escape and hanging with his physician. A plan was made. He got a room upgrade, a bedside playmate (volunteer) and plans for an early discharge. A happy ending for all of us.

No more monkeys swingin' on the bed!

EXCUUUUUSE ME!

I was enjoying a therapeutic shopping day with a friend. She accompanies me occasionally to provide clucking encouragement and discerning judgment when mine fails me. 
 I have my handful of stores that give me joy just to walk around in  and look . I'm not a big shopper and when I do shop, I make sure one of my favorite stores is included in the shopping rounds.
We found ourselves walking through a store enjoying its music selection. (Hobby Lobby) . Neither one of us were finding anything we were really looking for but we strolled down each aisle pushing our empty carts along just in case we did.
My way was blocked in the middle of one aisle by a woman and her cart. The woman was texting on her cell phone and didn't move aside when she saw me.
 "Excuse me", I said. No response or movement.
"Ugh, pardon me". Still no response.
I tapped her on the shoulder and asked, "could I get by you?"
Her reply; "You'll have to wait until I'm done texting here."
I look behind me at my friend to share an indignant glance , and a scowling squint, with  lower lip bite. I turn back to deal with the aisle blocker. . .  I freakin' don't think so! I shoved Ms. Texter aside with my cart, using it as a plow.

She gives me a LOOK which is no match for mine. It took all of my self  control to stop from grabbing her phone and smacking her on the head with it .

I'm not sure what the correct etiquette is for this behavior. I didn't have Emily Posts book handy.  Guess I'll write my own!