Where is my watch?

When we moved to Florida 24 years ago, one of the first things we noticed was the beautiful live oak tree.  These trees are plentiful in our neighborhood, and we had a magnificent one in our backyard.  It was very tall, and had Spanish Moss hanging from its huge branches.  The branches seemed to reach all the way to the sun. Once we became accustomed to seeing these gorgeous trees every day, we didn't really pay too much attention to our live oak until its beautiful branches spread well over our house as well as the neighbor's yard and swimming pool.  This wouldn't have been a problem if we didn't live in a hurricane plagued part of the country, and if the huge tree wasn't showing signs of damage.  One of the most obvious signs: a palm tree growing in one of the large forks between two branches.  Yeah, probably a problem... The trees guys said that our oak was probably about 120 years old.  I nearly cried at the thought of losing this treasure.  T...

We have a covered patio at the back of our house.  It's great for morning coffee, afternoon wine, bird-watching, and just enjoying the peace and quiet.  Our patio has some plants, a small table and chairs, and a supply of birdseed in a large covered plastic container.  The patio is adjacent to our bedroom.    I'm normally a pretty heavy sleeper, but one night I was awakened by a noise outside our bedroom window.  It was coming from the patio.  Of course, I woke up my husband, "Bill, there's SOMETHING OUT THERE!!!"  I ran to the kitchen to turn on the patio light.  By the time I got the light on, the raccoon was retreating.  He/she/it got away quickly.  When we checked the patio the next day, there was no sign of damage.  No problem. The next night, I heard it again; same deal, raccoon got scared and scurried into the night.  The following morning, I saw the damage.  The raccoon had gotten the lid off the birdseed....

Today's blog post was written by Dr. Bill Kirby. When I was required to take a course on statistical analysis, I was fortunate enough to have Dr. Kirby as my professor. Dr. Kirby encouraged me, and helped me get through that class despite my severe math phobia. We have stayed in touch over the years, and I am proud to have him as a friend. So, here is some wisdom from the Doctor. Sometime, I heard of one’s digital legacy, meaning the accounts, usernames and passwords that a person creates and collects and leaves behind after death. When I saw an ad for the book “ I’m Dead, Now What? ” https://www.amazon.com/s?k=i% 27m+dead+now+what+book I bought the book and it has been laying around for two years.  More of our friends die or become incapicitated and Lynn took notice.  She said we should look through the book and start filling in the information that it calls for.  It is mostly forms of relevant information when a person dies. I kept saying we would get...

Trypanophobia is the extreme fear of needles.  I am referring to the injection and blood drawing needles, not the knitting needles.  I like knitting needles, but those other needles...not so much.  There are a lot of reasons for my fear, but I think the primary reason goes back to my childhood.   I have written here about my mother the medical doctor.  For whatever reason, probably for the sake of convenience, my mother acted as our family doctor.  This included giving us all of our immunizations.  I did not do well with that.  I have a very vivid memory of my mother dragging me out from under the bed where I was trying to escape.  She had my ankle in one hand and the needle in the other.  Ugh.  My mother was often on the telephone.  We had phones all over the house to enable her to  answer  quickly  one emergency after another.  One time, she was in the middle of her office hours (her office was in...

Who would have thought that, in our lifetime, we would be living through a global pandemic?  Certainly, not I!  I heard horror stories from my mother and my grandmother about tuberculosis, polio, cancer, etc., but in our time, with our knowledge, technology, communication...can't happen.   It all began so slowly...I remember watching the Today Show and hearing about some bats in China.  Chinese bats are far away.  Now, I'm wondering which mask I should wear today.  (oh, that was a rhyme!  Yay, me!)  Which mask!  Should I make masks to match my outfits?  Does anybody care?   I am 65 years old, and I have a pacemaker. I'm not supposed to leave my house.  Not because I will infect anyone, but because I have a "compromised" immune system.  My husband has asthma and a heart condition.  He needs to stay home, too.  This is WAY TOO MUCH TOGETHERNESS!!! When my husband and I were married, we didn't p...

I know there are much more troubling things happening these days, but I need to write about my nose.  I have lots of nose-related troubles; I will share three of them with you.  Today is your lucky day!!! My latest nose problem was my own fault; I stayed on the beach too long without sunscreen.  My nose was so burnt that it looked as though someone had lit it on fire.  While the scabbing eventually healed, I developed a Rudolph-like red nose that will never fade.  Use sunscreen!!!  The dermatologist told me I was very fortunate that it wasn't cancer. I have something called hyperosmia.  It means I am super-duper sensitive to smells.  Smells can make me sick.  For example, my husband likes to toast some God-awful (to me) frozen waffles in the morning.  To me, the smell is so horrible, it awakens me in the bedroom when he is toasting in the kitchen.  Worse, the smell never dissipates; it lingers for hours, making me feel nauseated...

As I grow older and experience more of life, the good and the not so good, my appreciation and admiration of my mother grow.  She graduated with her M.D. from the University of Illinois College of Medicine in 1943.  She was one of eight women in her class and, as Class Secretary, the only officer who wasn't a man.  She was Marie Anne Smith, called Ma Smith by her classmates.  She was a brilliant and driven pioneer. Ma Smith became Doctor Kelly when she married my father.  She was 38; he was 43.  She wanted children.  I don't know how much my father wanted us, but he went along with her plan.  My father's father committed suicide at a very young age, and although Papa (we had to call him Papa because he hated the sound of Daddy) was only 6 years old, he became the man of his little family.  Papa never wanted to talk about his life...it was horrific on many levels.  He took care of his mother, my Nana, until she died.  Nana was part...