Merry Christmas & Happy New Year

Just a quick note to wish everyone a very happy holiday season, whatever you may be celebrating, or not, as the case may be. Stay safe, warm and take care of each other. I'll leave you today with a couple of photos of my dog, and my lighthouse all prettied up and/or decked out for the season!

Okay, I didn't go all out this year, but it's something, lol.

Catch you on the flip side!

 

Ninja

Introducing the newest pet addition to our family: Ninja!



Ninja was a stray kitten that my mom found living wild in her neighborhood not long ago. She was a teeny, tiny thing at the time, and was initially terrified of everyone who came near her. It took several weeks before my mom could get close enough to catch her (of course it helped that my mom left food for her every day.) ;-)

Ninja is actually the second name that she's had since she came to live with my mom. Originally she was being called Nebula, but after observing her behavior for a couple of weeks, and noticing her penchant for leaping out and pouncing on people who never saw it coming, my brother changed her name to Ninja. 

Ninja is the youngest of my mom's three pets. She shares the abode and my mom's love with Fancy, an Abyssinian cat, and Trixie, a Boston Terrier dog.

Fancy

Trixie

Fancy is about 12 years old and spends much of her time sleeping these days, so Ninja doesn't have much of a playmate in her, unfortunately.

Trixie, however, is about 5 or 6 and is still very playful. Full of attitude, too. That dog will sass anybody who does anything she doesn't like. I got an earful this past weekend for sitting in my mom's recliner and choosing not to recline so she could jump up and sit next to me. I've got some nerve, don't I?

I do have a pet of my own, called Coxie. She is a Cockapoo, and very, very sweet. She is about 12 or 13 now, and like Fancy, also spends a great deal of time sleeping these days. She can play hard for about 2 or 3 minutes, but then she needs to sleep it off, lol. Below is one of my favorite pictures of her, taken in 2006.

The lovely and beloved Coxie.

There and Back Again....A Lighthouse Tale (with apologies to Tolkien)

Greetings All!

Last Saturday I put on my Adventure Girl Pants and drove up to Ponce Inlet to see and climb the tallest lighthouse in Florida, aptly named the Ponce Inlet Light Station (sometimes simplicity really is best in naming things.)

Ponce Inlet was completed in 1887, and sports a 203-step climb to the top in a tight spiral staircase, which is most decidedly built for one-way traffic. Happily there are landings between “floors” where people can stand aside and let traffic pass before proceeding.

The view of the staircase from ground level looking up. Dizzy time, baby!

I DID make it to the top, in case you are wondering, and paid the price for a few days with super sore leg muscles, although I am happy to report my muscles have fully recovered! :-)

My fellow climbers were of all ages, including an 81-year old grandmother, and a young mom with babe in arms. I don’t know how she managed the last flight of steps with the baby, as those were extremely steep! She was extremely brave, or perhaps crazy.

At the top, I was treated to a glorious view! The weather was perfect and I could see for miles! The ocean was a magnificent shade of blue and I loved looking at the colorful homes and businesses around the beach. You can see some of the pictures below:

Doesn't that water look amazing?

This is the actual light currently in use at Ponce Inlet. We weren't allowed into the lantern room because the lighthouse is still an active aid to navigation, according to the sign below:

The Light Keeper's Evening Duty Routine, from January 1, 1870

After several minutes savoring the view, it was time to leave the high perch (alas) and descend back to ground level. It’s much quicker going down because you have gravity on your side. ;-) Upon exiting the lighthouse there was a smattering of applause from various people who were waiting on their loved ones to descend and were happy to see them arrive safely on foot, and not all of a sudden, if you get my meaning.

At this time I went on to explore the grounds. There were the homes of the first watch keeper, and the second watch keeper, made into museums with historical artifacts from back in the day, as well as a building dedicated to the lenses used in the lighthouse from the past and present, and a couple of other structures whose names elude me at the moment.

I took over 500 pictures, though, (it’s a sickness, I think), so it’s well-documented. Below is a Kedge anchor from circa 1830-1860.

On my way out, I took a mini stroll through the natural wooded area near the grounds. Some of the trees I saw would make for great a Halloween movie set. Very spooky!

Spooky trees. Oooo!

Coming out of the woods I saw the cat cemetery that contains the remains of five of the previous lighthouse cats through the years. The current lighthouse cat is named Nelly, and you can see her lovely portrait below. They adore Nelly there, and she even has her own line of merchandise in the gift shop! I purchased an “I ♥ Lighthouses” bumper sticker, and a lovely mermaid wall sculpture (shown below).

The lovely reigning lighthouse cat, Queen Nelly (well, I call her Queen), and, really, would any cat have it any other way?

Queen Nelly's predecessors



In all, I spent about three hours touring the lighthouse and grounds. It's one of those really neat day trips outside of Orlando that most tourists, unless they are lighthouse enthusiasts, don't know about. Admission is only $5, and you get a snazzy lighthouse bracelet as a souvenir (wink, wink), and an interesting history lesson of what life was like for the light keepers. I know they had to be physically fit. The lamp oil weighed about 40 pounds, and someone had to climb all 203 steps up every night with it. Impressed? Yeah, me, too!

My snazzy lighthouse bracelet souvenir, lol. I know you're jealous. ;-)



I'm afraid that wraps up my mini tour of the Ponce Inlet Light Station. There was a lot I didn't get into because I figured you might want to get on with your life right about now. If you've made it this far, thank you for reading, and if you get the chance, be sure to make the trip to see this lighthouse in person. It's worth the price of admission, and more! (No, I am not being paid to write this, lol.)



Birthday Shinies

Celebrated my birthday today! Not telling which one, though, lol.

I was blessed to receive many, many heartfelt greetings from friends and family members this year and thought I'd share a few of the birthday shinies from my big day. Here are some of the wonderful and funny cards I received...

Below are the lovely gifts I received from my mom. The first one is a Wedgwood breast cancer heart. My mom is a 12 year survivor, so this is near and dear to her own heart.



Up next is a lovely breast cancer bracelet.

...and the cute little keychain and flower pin that came on the package...

..and last, but not least from mom, a Paperwhite flower kit for the holidays

My very talented artist/photographer friend, Marsha, blessed me with some wonderful and thoughtful items, as well.

She knows I love lighthouses, so she sent me a picture of a lighthouse from her hometown in Kennewick, WA, and a lovely sunset, and a keychain. So beautiful! I'm afraid my picture of the pictures don't do them justice, but I think you'll get the idea.

Marsha & I both are huge David Garrett fans, so she put her mega sketching skills to work and created this oh-so-cool 2012 calendar for me and several other of our mutual friends who are also fans of his. I love, love, LOVE this calendar! Thank you, Marsha!

*Mwah!*

My super sweet friend, Heather, sent me a movie snack pack consisting of the following:

I, and my sweet tooth thank you profusely, m'dear!

I did also treat myself to a couple of things. I purchased David Garrett's new CD/DVD "Legacy" (which was released on what would have been my dad's birthday on Nov. 4), and my awesome friend Marion sent it over to me from Germany. Thank you for feeding my DG habit! ♥

My second gift to myself was this lovely book by Goddess Leonie Dawson, "73 Lessons Every Goddess Must Know." I adore this woman's writing and her free-spirited soul! You can check out her website here. No, I am not an affiliate. Just a fan of her work. :-)

A big thank you to everyone for making my day so special today! I'll leave you with a fabulous birthday video a friend sent to me.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Just a little birthday tribute to my dad! Hope you enjoy my little trip down memory lane.

Here's one of my dad's baby pictures. Grandma was kind enough to let me sort through hundreds of old pictures she had and choose my favorite ones. I didn't have any pictures of my dad when he was younger, so I chose several of those. I'm thinking the outfit he's wearing here is actually red checkered, rather than pink, but he did have lovely pink cheeks!

Here he is as a young boy. He looks sweet and innocent, doesn't he? ;-) Dad used to get into everything, grandma told me. One time he crawled up on the garage roof to play. He fell off and broke his arm in the shape of an "S." He ran into the kitchen and showed grandma, who was washing dishes at the time. "Look ma! S for Superman!" Grandma fainted. Tough little kid, wasn't he? He was lucky to have only broken his arm!

Don't know much about my dad as a teenager, but here are a couple of pictures of him from when he was about 15 years old. Seems to have enjoyed fishing at one time.

Being the eldest of six children, my dad occasionally got babysitting duty. My uncle told me a story about a time when my dad was left to babysit his younger siblings and decided his brothers needed haircuts. So he lined them all up on the porch outside, put cereal bowls on their heads, and proceeded to give them bowl haircuts. He never got the chance to do that again. But then again, knowing my dad, that was probably his plan all along.

When dad was old enough, he and one of his buddies went into town to join the Air Force. As it turned out, the Air Force recruiting office was closed that day, so they went next door and joined the Navy!

A few years after dad joined the Navy, he met my mom while he was out having a drink. He noticed her dancing and wanted to meet her. So after she sat down, he went over and started to chat her up. He told her he's an Arthur Murray dance instructor and she asked him to dance with her. They got out on the dance floor, where he proceeded to trample all over her toes. So much for that line, lol. Mom evidently found him charming enough, though, because they started dating and six weeks later, they were married.

The first place mom and dad lived as a couple was New London, CT. After that, they went to Paris, France, where I was born. Here's a picture of me with my dad when I was a few hours old.

....and another of me and dad when I was a bit older....

One thing I remember about dad was his pipes. He loved to smoke pipes and cigars. We all preferred the pipes, because they smelled so much better, and he used to make pipe cleaner animals for me and my brother (very cool!) Here he is smoking one of his many pipes. Wonder how that birthday cake tasted after that?

In the years that followed we lived in several places due to my dad's military career. Some time after my dad retired from the Navy, my parents separated and my mom, brother and I moved to Florida. We didn't get to see our dad very often after their separation, but he did come to each of our graduations, and also to my grandparent's 50th anniversary (his parents), which turned out to be the last time I ever saw him. He died a few years later due to complications from his long battle with alcoholism.

In spite of his problems, he was a good man at heart. He was a very good listener when I needed to vent about anything, and I inherited his somewhat wicked sense of humor, which is good or bad, depending on who you ask. ;-)

My dad swore he was no fan of pets, but all of our pets adored him, and one of our cats even had her kittens on his lap while he slept in his recliner. You can imagine his surprise! Still I think he really had a big 'ol soft spot in his heart for animals.

Well, that's about it for my trip down memory lane. Thank you for joining me!

Horsey Fever!

Moi, as a wee girl, riding my horsey!

Many moons ago when I was a wee girl, my parents bought me a beautiful bouncing plastic horse that I used to ride and ride and ride until someone pulled me off and made me go do something else (apparently the springs got irritating after an hour—go figure).

A few years later, I got into riding real horses. I blame my mother. ;) Actually, I am so grateful to her for exposing me to this sport. We were living in Rota, Spain at the time. We bought a beautiful gray gelding called Diablo. He was ¾ Arabian and ¼ something else. Diablo did sort of live up to his name, in that he was a bit of a devil to deal with if he decided he didn’t want to do anything. You try moving a 900 lb horse if he doesn’t want to budge—and I was a 10-year-old kid at the time!

Diablo had once been a dressage horse, so his favorite thing to do instead of almost anything else was dressage. I’d be trying to get him to jump over a low jump and he’d start prancing and dancing around. It was beautiful, but just not what I wanted him to do. I had to work hard to get him to canter, too. That horse had the fastest trot known to man and I learned pretty quickly not to ride Diablo on a full stomach. He simply would not canter if he wasn’t in the mood. Not for me, at any rate. Mom was a no-nonsense rider, so she got him to do things I could only dream of.

Diablo and I eventually came to terms with each other, and I was able to progress quite nicely as a rider with English and Western saddles, as well as a bareback pad when I felt especially brave, or suicidal, as the case may be. We even competed in the local rodeos and Gymkhana’s at the stables where he was boarded and did quite well. They were no major grand and glorious competitions, but it still meant the world to me when I brought home ribbons and trophies, and I think he actually enjoyed competing.

Thinking back now, I wish I knew more about his previous life as a dressage horse and whether he competed in that discipline. Possibly his stubbornness to do what we wanted him to do was simply his misinterpreting what signals we thought we were giving him. A gentle kick here, or applying pressure with the knees there may mean something specific to a dressage horse. Ah, the things I still have to learn!

We had other adventures, too. Most of the time when I rode him it was an extremely pleasant and exhilarating experience, but there were those occasional bad days. One day we were out riding around the campo, and evidently we crossed an invisible property line and trespassed on someone’s private property. Next thing I knew someone was shooting a rifle! I didn’t stop to check if they were aiming at us or just firing up into the air, nor did Diablo. I barely had the “g” in giddyup out and he was a dot on the horizon! We carefully avoided that area of the campo after that.

We had less-harrowing and occasionally gross adventures in the jumping ring. In the early days before Diablo understood or took me seriously as a rider, I’d be trying to get him to turn one way to line up for a jump, and he went the other, throwing me to the ground just inches from a pile of manure. I swear that horse could smirk! I preferred his dressage steps to that mess!

Another time we had just finished the Grand Opening for the rodeo and were leaving the ring. Diablo accidentally cut too close to the large steel post as we were running out and I smashed my left knee on it. I screamed and my dad came running out and pulled me off the horse and carried me back to the car. At the hospital I had to have my knee drained of a lot of fluid. By this time Diablo and I had bonded pretty well and I think he actually felt horrible about it. He was very gentle and careful after that.

One of the traditions of the stable where we boarded Diablo was that when a rider had a birthday, a birthday posse would be formed. The posse would seek out the person with the birthday, pick them up and carry them to the water trough. The birthday girl or boy would naturally be fighting like mad to get away, but they never did. The posse would take the person’s boots off, and hat if they were wearing one, and then dunk them in the trough. Then they gave them a hearty HAPPY BIRTHDAY, and left them to squish around in wet clothes for the rest of the day. I know I hated it and I can only imagine how the horses felt about it.

So now, all these years later, I’ve been bitten by the horse bug once again thanks to a lovely dressage horse called Blue Hors Matine. Again, I have to blame my mother. She forwarded this link to me: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zKQgTiqhPbw . If you haven’t seen it, you’re horribly deprived and you must rectify it immediately!

Fortunately for my finances, common sense prevails and I realize I cannot currently afford to own a horse, so will settle for the video, and perhaps volunteering at a local service organization that specializes in helping children with disabilities to ride horses. Where there's a will...

Up, Up and Away - the Story (at last!)

Here at last is the story from my Hot Air Balloon Adventure back in 2006. Enjoy!

All loaded up and ready to fly!

December 2, 2006

What a day! It started freakishly early at 3:30 a.m., but that was because our report time for our sunrise flight was 5:30 a.m. I had to get to Kissimmee from Orlando, so an early start was in my best interests. Adrenaline kept me awake, anyway!

I found the meeting place easily enough, parked and went inside to find everyone else. There were dozens of people packed in a reserved area of the hotel’s restaurant sitting at tables and booths. All tables were full, so I selected a spot on a bench along one wall. As I sat and waited for our orientation to begin, I surveyed my fellow balloonists. Some folks were wide awake and excited, and some barely looked conscious. I could understand that. I’m a morning person and a 3:30 a.m. start was rough on me.

After awhile I struck up a conversation with the couple sitting next to me. They were from England and this was their second attempt to fly. On the first day they had tried to go up the weather was not cooperating and so they had to stay grounded. The balloon company invited them to come back again this day so they could try again. Evidently it is not unusual to have to try two or three times before the weather is good enough that it’s safe to fly. In talking with several other people, I learned that they, too, had tried before, so I began to wonder if we would get off the ground today. Well, I needn’t have worried. A short time later the pilots walked in, all smiles, and proceeded with the orientation.

We would be separated into groups and assigned to a captain. Then would follow the captain out to the waiting vans and get comfortable while the captains met outside to determine once and for all if it was safe to fly and if so, which way the wind was coming from and which launch/landing site we would use that day.

I was assigned to Captain Ian Swift, along with the Lucas family. We all followed Captain Swift out to the van, or rather we tried to. The man walked amazingly fast and we had to run to keep up with him or else we’d lose him in the dark. Panting, we arrived at the van and piled in. Captain Swift spoke a few words of greeting to us and then went to meet up with the other captains to decide which would be the best route to fly this day. A few moments later he was back and then we were on our way to the launch site.

We arrived at a large field in a remote country residential area. Several other vans had already arrived, so we had to head towards the back of the field to get set up. As we parked the captain asked us to leave any unnecessary items behind as there would not be much room in the balloon to store things. Also, he said, the balloon would be about 10 degrees warmer than the ground temperature, so we might want to consider leaving jackets behind. Since it was fairly warm, even for a December day, I left my jacket behind.

Once we were all safely unloaded from the van, Captain Swift and our ground crew of one immediately unloaded the balloon from the little trailer hitched to the back of the van.

It was fascinating to watch them get things set up. At some point it was only Captain Swift left to set up the balloon, but a few of the men folk from our group stepped in to help with the heavier lifting that was required. There was a lot of work to be done before the balloon could even be inflated, but eventually it was time and we all gathered eagerly around to watch.

If you’ve never seen a hot air balloon inflate before, you’re deprived. It was so exciting to see the balloon take shape and just imagine what it was going to be like to fly in it! Once it was inflated, Captain Swift wrangled the basket into an upright position, which was more difficult now that he had the balloon to contend with, and motioned for us all to come over to begin boarding.

A note: Balloon baskets do not have little doors that you step through, or at least ours did not. It is difficult, if not impossible, to be lady-like when boarding a balloon, so dress appropriately and don’t even worry about it. You have to put your foot in the small footrest on the side of the basket, and swing one leg over, and then the other, to get in, without kicking any of your fellow passengers (you really don’t want to irritate anyone just before or during a hot air balloon ride). I cannot recall now, but there may have been portable steps to help out the more ‘vertically challenged’ folks as the baskets are quite high.

After everyone was safely inside the basket, the ground crewman took pictures of us just before lift-off with each of our cameras. We were not the first off the ground that day, but that’s okay. We had a good time waving to those that were launching before us. Eventually it was our turn around 7 a.m. I barely noticed the lift-off, it was that smooth! I glanced down and noticed that things on the ground were getting smaller and smaller yet I felt only the barest hint of apprehension. This was what could be a once in a lifetime opportunity and we were already airborne, so why worry now?

We slowly lifted higher and higher. It really was a very peaceful experience and the absolute quiet and stillness as we ascended and watched the sunrise from the balloon was as close to a religious experience as I can imagine. I still get misty-eyed even now when I think about it.

As we were enjoying the slow ascent and peace and quiet, Captain Swift fired the propane tanks and startled us all. So, it was not to be all peace and quiet, but considering the alternative of crashing and burning, we gladly accepted the occasional noise from the tanks and just enjoyed the experience. Our captain decided to brush the tops of some of the trees with the basket, which prompted a few nervous giggles and some teasing, but it was all good. He pointed out some wildlife…a deer, and a cougar that was thankfully nowhere near the deer or that would have put an end to my religious experience.

Once we were well into our flight we peppered Captain Swift with questions about flying hot air balloons. He’s been at it 20+ years, and this balloon company, Orange Blossom Balloons (http://www.orangeblossomballoons.com/), has a perfect safety record. He told us that the company will not hire anyone with less than 1000 hours of experience piloting a hot air balloon and they must have met FAA requirements and passed the FAA exam.

Someone asked him if he raced in balloons, and he said he has not, but knows people who do and who get very competitive about it. For him, it’s all about just being up there and taking it all in. He was all smiles as he talked about his job and it was clear he loves it and couldn’t imagine doing anything else. What better way to start each day than watching the sunrise from a hot air balloon with a group of very happy people?

A little later into the flight, we saw an abandoned vehicle or two in the wilderness and lots of new construction, which can be good or bad, depending on your own point-of-view. I’d rather have the wilderness, personally, but it was still breathtaking to see from above.

We flew near the home of the pilot who normally flew the balloon we were in. I think he waved to us—it was hard to see from where we were. In one subdivision we flew over, several residents ran out to greet us, waving wildly and calling out greetings, and some ran back in to get cameras and take pictures. I felt like a mini-celebrity. We waved and called back to them and smiled even bigger than we had been.

All-too-soon our 1-hour flight was over and we were landing. We landed in the field near an orange grove (the company has negotiated rights to land in the fields) and reluctantly climbed out of the basket. As the captain began to deflate the balloon, the ground crewman (balloon wrangler) raced to grab and hold on to the rope to hold the balloon down until it had deflated enough so that it couldn’t lift off with one of us still dangling off the side trying to get out of the basket. This was no mean feat, as I could see him madly struggling to keep himself on the ground. Fortunately our hero was quite strong and managed to stay on terra firma.

Once the balloon had been mostly deflated we were all able to help with getting the last of the air out and fold and roll up the balloon and put it back into its sack and load it into the trailer. That took some time, but we had a lot of fun doing it. Someone discovered that there were tons of red ant hills near us, so that lent an element of ‘danger’ to the activity and kept it interesting—or at the very least kept us moving around!

Once the balloon was tucked away in the trailer, we drove a few yards to the orange grove stand, where we were given clear plastic cups and champagne and orange juice, in preparation for the Champagne Toast and Balloonist’s Prayer. As we toasted our successful flight and safe landing and all those celebrating birthdays and anniversaries, all of the pilots recited the prayer:

The Balloonist's Prayer

The winds have welcomed you with softness.

The sun has blessed you with his warm hands.

You have flown so high and so well

that God joined you in laughter

and set you gently back into the loving arms of Mother Earth

After the toast and prayer, we got back into the vans and drove back to the hotel, where we got to enjoy an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. The Lucas family had informally ‘adopted’ me by this point and invited me to join them at their table for breakfast. The captains made the rounds to their groups and gave everyone their flight certificates and had them sign their credit card receipts (they don’t charge your card until you’re safely back on the ground). It is appropriate to tip the pilot at this time.

I’ve heard it said more than once that the first flight will cost about $200 and your second would cost upwards of $15,000 because once you fly, you will be hooked and want one of your own. It’s true. I would love to learn to fly a hot air balloon and have one of my own. The cost may be prohibitive for some, but in all seriousness, it is absolutely without question worth it to do at least once in your lifetime even if you have save for months to do it. I was fortunate in that my flight was paid for by my co-workers in honor of my birthday, but I am saving for another flight even as I write these words. It is an amazing, inspiring and awesome experience that could very well be impossible to top.

You can see a couple of short videos I took here:

Inflating the balloon: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_0J18jtgck
Hot air balloon flight: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9NIeECkwMc

They’re not spectacular, and cannot even begin to compare to the experience of actually being there, but it will give you some idea of what it was like.

Hope you enjoyed reading my story, and I hope to see you in the skies during one of your own balloon adventures!