History in the Making

 Nothing earth shattering going on, just my own personal blogging history. In 920 posts, spanning four years this is surely the first post I've begun in what I call the middle of the night. Being the world class sleeper that I am, it's unheard of for me to be up at this hour, and in fact, it's not my idea at all.

I was in the middle of a dream about wine and tea. And skewers. According to my dream, wine is the most drunk liquid in the world, followed closely by tea. Ah yes...two of my favorites. The skewers? Something about most foods could be put on skewers making them a great investment idea. Silliness, I know, but that's usually what dreams are made of. One of my least favorite bugs in the world, a buzzing mosquito interrupted this fantasy. Yep, I woke to itching. As in like crazy. Both ankles and my right upper arm. So much so that I couldn't get back to sleep so rather than toss and turn I'm writing. Or, at least until sleepiness returns and itchiness goes away following a liberal coating of hydrocortisone.

Saturday was a fine day in Winter Garden, made even more so by having easy access to this:

 Actually I got one of his raspberry twists, but those almond croissants on the right are mighty delicious too. Maybe because it's newer to me, don't know, but I really love taking pictures at this market. Could be the newness of the space as well, clean and tidy. The crowds mostly fit that description as well.

Despite the mild weather on Sunday it was not my best showing at the market. There were people, just not the buying kind. Cole, Dana's son who often helps her described the day as lethargic which is probably as good a description as any. All I need do is look at Jim and Kathy's orchid display to know whether it's a general buying day or not.

They took home more than they planned. I did talk to some folks, and I read another New Yorker, this one with an article about a Charles Dickens camp. Apparently for some 30 years up to 250 adults spend the week attending lectures and discussing one of his novels. This last year it was Great Expectations. According to the article, Mr. Dickens was sorely disappointed when he came to America the first time, claiming that our politics were a mess and Americans were boorish. We all know history has a way of repeating itself as we witness the current political mess. The boorishness, I'll let you decide that one. Remarkably back then, American publishers had no obligation to pay British, and I'm assuming any foreign authors, royalties on their writings. Can you believe it? His books were wildly popular on both sides of the Atlantic, however, he made money on only one of those sides. All sorts of other interesting facts came to light such as his kicking his wife out of their home and keeping the children but then again you may not be as interested in this sort of thing as I am.

Speaking of Charles Dickens, the most famous line from A Tale of Two Cities, still fits.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
English novelist (1812 - 1870)

Amazing to think about isn't it? Nothing new under the sun and all that....

I wish I had the time to read non fiction magazine articles like those published in The New Yorker.  Of course, then you'd have to hear about them and you may not be nearly as fascinated as I am with pieces such as the one I read at Saturday's market about Rin Tin Tin's beginnings.

It is common knowledge amongst my readers that Bruce can fix just about anything. Saturday evening, after gathering the necessary tools while I was at the market, fixed his kayak. I mean as in welding plastic. Here's the set up:

He's got the kayak over one of the patio chairs, while another one stands in for a light stand. After dinner, while I was watching the disappointing Florida State football game, he worked on it. Using a piece of plastic given to him by the folks at Travel Country, he used a heat gun thing to do the welding.

The hole is closed, but you knew that with Mr. Bruce at the helm. According to Denise, Bruce's assistant, moth balls will keep the squirrels away in the future. All that's left to do is a bit of sanding, however, that will probably wait until Thanksgiving Day when he's next home.

Have I mentioned how obsessed I am currently with purple flowers? If not, I am now. Love them!

The border planting of pansies I was hoping would look nice for Matt's visit is coming along nicely. The unseasonable rains we have been having, as in the unexpected 1/2 inch today, is helping. As I type this I'm thinking Matt is probably preparing to go to the airport. A whole week he'll be here, which I know will fly by. If it doesn't cool off soon, I suspect he could almost get in the pool while he's here. Speaking of which, my beautiful pool has a problem, fortunately covered by warranty. Taking the water for the testing last Thursday I found out there is no chlorine in the pool. Nada.

The pool guy came right over, checking things; his diagnosis is a bad mother board on the chlorine generator. I know, because it is saline you think there is no need for chlorine, but that's not how it works. The machine makes chlorine out of salt. Allegedly, a repair guy will be out Wednesday morning, however, when I returned late this afternoon with Thanksgiving groceries, there was a message which I returned too late to speak with anyone. Hope there's not a problem. Between the oak leaves, and seed things from the palms, and now no chlorine, it's been hard

Finally, as I really do need to get back in bed, I think we can all agree that Thomas Friedman has got it right in this article whereupon he claims that instead of laying the burden totally on the teachers what we really need to fix our educational system is better parents.  I'm glad someone had the nerve to tell it like it is. I hope this generation of parents will be able to put down their devices long enough to make the time for their children. I'll stop moralizing and Mr. Baxter and I will soon be fast asleep, or so we hope.

Good night,
Gail