Ice Hits Close to Home

 

Linda Davis, beloved teacher.

As terrible as some things are, we fool ourselves into thinking that they are too distant from us to impact us. Minneapolis is many hours and states away from where I live. They are mainly targeting Democratic cities, and I live in one of the reddest counties on the planet. Nothing has happened to jar loose any of the 90% who voted for Trump and pals in elections here.

But a terrible tragedy has struck close to home. The madness that is ICE struck in Savannah.   Rather than me stumbling trying to describe what happened, I will let this news story written by Margaret Coker in The Current Ga outline it for you.

"A Chatham County elementary school teacher en route to work early Monday was killed after a man trying to flee federal immigration agents rammed her vehicle on Whitefield Avenue near the Truman Parkway, according to county police.

Linda Davis, a longtime teacher at Herman W. Hesse K-8 School was pulled from her crushed Lexus sedan by emergency personnel but later pronounced dead at the hospital. The driver who allegedly hit her, 38-year-old Oscar Vasquez-Lopez, was arrested by Chatham County Police and charged with homicide and reckless driving, police said.  

The fatal collision occurred around 7:20 a.m. less than a half mile from Hesse after agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) tried to pull over the vehicle driven by Vasquez-Lopez, according to police and eyewitnesses. 

Although Monday was a school holiday, Davis was due to attend teacher training that morning at the elementary school that serves a large number of Spanish-speaking children. Vasquez-Lopez appears to have driven through the red light on Whitefield on the east side of the Truman at such speed that the front and side of Davis' vehicle was crushed, witnesses told The Current GA. 

Around 7:30 a.m., before emergency workers arrived at the scene, two masked immigration agents dressed in tactical gear detained one person and ushered him to one of their two vehicles parked along Whitefield Avenue, according to two eyewitnesses. It is unclear if that person was Vasquez-Lopez or someone else. 

It is unclear whether federal agents offered any emergency assistance to the special needs teacher. Three eyewitnesses told The Current that they did not see anyone attending the mangled black Lexus before Chatham emergency services arrived at 7:45 a.m. and pried Davis from her vehicle.

Chatham County police said that they had not been aware of any planned immigration enforcement operations on Monday and were not involved in any when the collision occurred."

END Article inclusion

ICE, looking for suspects, apparently decided to harass around an elementary school, began a car chase in an area where they put others at risk. This led to a crash that took Linda Davis's life. The so-called criminal, Vasquez-Lopez, had NO criminal record.* The chase was dangerous and unwarranted.

But this hits even closer to home for us than even Savannah. Two of the witnesses were people we know. I haven't seen their names in print, so I won't name them. One is a lifelong friend of Alison's who grew up in Pierce County. The other is a close friend of one of our church family, and I believe grew up in Ware County. They are both good friends and good people, ones we still see several times a year. They escorted us around Savannah a few years ago and were great hosts, hitting up a lot of the foodie spots.

One of them worked at the school system with Linda Davis. Both of them adored her. Both of them were horrified by what ICE had done.

No one is safe. The horrors of the Trump administration will affect us all.

Even if you think the undocumented are a problem that needs to be dealt with, I think you have to agree that this is not the way to go about it. Too many innocents are being killed or wounded, many others are having their lives and families disrupted, and some are just disappearing to God knows where.

Remember, being undocumented is a civil offense, not a criminal one. THE UNDOCUMENTED ARE NOT CRIMINALS.

If you live in Southeast Georgia, you should be looking at The Current GA. Please search for it or link it to your social media. There are few truly independent, investigative news sources left. We should cherish those that we can find.

Until next time.

T. M. Strait

AOC '28

Blackshear On Ice

 

Obligatory pictures of a Blackshear snowfall. This one is not much more than a couple inches, but it's extra dangerous because it's coated with ice.

Yep. I grew up in Michigan. I am not a stranger to driving on snow. But ice? That terrifies me. So Alison and I will stay home until the ice melts off.

Some might occur today. But with highs in the mid-thirties, it may not melt off enough to make Thursday morning drivable.

Dogs on ice! They can't break through the snow due to the layer of ice. There are two dogs out there. What? You can't see Pixie, our little white-haired dog?

Yeah.  Not going anywhere with icy snow on the car.

So, is this climate change?

Two things you can attribute to climate change -

1) Average global temperatures are rising. 2024 set new records. Each year is topping itself.

2) As climate changes, more and more extreme weather events will occur. Some would happen anyway. Some are not caused by it but are definitely juiced up by it.

I can tell you who does believe in climate change.

The Orange Conman.

Whaat? Are you kidding me, Tom?

Think about it. Why do you think he's lusting so hard over Greenland and Canada?

Because he knows as they melt off, he can access more fossil fuels and other natural resources!

Is he doing that for the benefit of the people that live there? No, no, no, NO!

Is he doing that for the benefit of the average American? No, no, no, NO!

Is he doing it to enrich himself and his billionaire buddies? Yes, yes, YES!

He wants to dismantle those places and strip them for parts.

He's already, through executive order, doing that to Alaska. He's opened to full exploitation - no environmental protections whatsoever.

No, I won't let this go.

I will keep bringing up the horrid decision made by 49.8% of the voting population.

Anyhoo...

Enjoy the weather as best you can! Stay safe out there!

AOC '28!

Idalia Peels Into Our House

 

For years, hurricanes have threatened our little corner of Southeast Georgia, but most veered away before they got here. Some came close, with wind, rain, and maybe a few downed limbs.

But Idalia? At least for us, it passed directly over us, at or about Category 1.

We had two of our twenty-four trees fall, damaging our house.

As you can see from the picture above, one poked right through into our bedroom. 

Hi! Mind if I  come in?

Well..we'd rather you didn't.

Too late!

The first tree to fall whacked the storage portion of our carport. It smashed part of our metal roof and poked five holes through it. It just missed taking out my electric mower.

Speaking of near misses, it was just inches away from taking out my Honda Civic.

The big Pinehuna landed squarely over our bedroom area.

Tuesday, August 29, we returned from a beautiful trip to the Catskills to visit the newest love of our lives, our 17-month-old granddaughter. I didn't do a story about it, partly because I can't show pictures of her and partly due to the distractions of the events that happened a day later.

Wednesday was when Idalia peeled into our neighborhood. In addition to the storm damage, we lost power until Thursday night and internet until Friday. Then there was catching up, cleaning up, and other things I will share later.

Rest assured, we have had insurance agents and adjustors out here, and we are in good shape to get stuff fixed.   We have plastic sheeting and protection on the roof, and most of the trees moved away from the house. This was mainly due to the help of Kevin Manders (a friend and a godparent to Benjamin) and LeVance Gay (a former co-worker of Alison and a neighbor).

Our church opened its doors and provided food and air conditioning to those in need, and yes, we did take advantage of it. Let me repeat this for anyone who may not remember - I love Grace Episcopal Church. It is the living, breathing definition of Christianity.

I can also update you that Benjamin's recovery from his femur break is picking up pace, and he is now using a cane instead of a walker. It may be a couple more weeks, but he has arranged his apartment in Warner Robins and hopes to return to work by the end of the month.

Idalia knocked us around, but it did not knock us out.

February and its Usual Premature Exit

 

Well, well, is that Blackshear in February?

Nah, I think that's Dubuque, Iowa. Snow in Blackshear is rare.

The last time I remember was January a few years ago. It actually stuck for a few days. Freaked everybody out!

What are we getting at the end of this February? A high of 84! Even for us, that's pretty darn high for this time of year. I don't do well in high heat, so I stay indoors as much as possible.

Imagine being born on February 29th! You get your true birthday only every four years! We have one friend like that, Vincent. Happy birthday anyway, Vincent!

Does February seem shorter to me? Everything seems shorter and faster to me now. Part of aging, I guess.

I am struggling to just enjoy each day. It's not easy. I'm not a natural optimist.  

But I'm learning, folks. Really, I am.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

Bloomin' Allergies

The calendar doesn't say so, but it is effectively Spring here in the Southland.

In the daytime, we're reaching into the 80s, and things are starting to bloom.

Including our allergies.

Our azalea bush is starting to bloom. I didn't want an azalea bush, but it came with the house. It wouldn't help us to get rid of it. Azaleas are very popular here - our neighborhood is inundated with them.

For me, it's pretty mild. I did take an allergy pill yesterday. I may take that or a sinus pill today. I feel a sinus headache starting to build up.

It is much worse for Alison and Benjamin. They both already take an allergy pill every day. Additionally, Benjamin takes a daily pill for asthma and has an inhaler. He'll be coming down from Georgia College in Milledgeville for Spring Break next week. 

So, yay, warmer weather, y'all. The return of all those charming flying insects, especially gnats, who swarm me like they are in love with me. Please, do not tell me all your home remedy ideas. My solution? STAY INSIDE as much as possible.

It's not the North is any great treat, at least in the summer. In Michigan, the mosquitoes are much more aggressive and present. The bees are more hostile. On the other hand, Michigan does not have gators, multiple species of venomous snakes, or spiders the size of VW Beetles,

Our cars are turning dingy yellow from all the pollen. The line-up to car washes are like traffic jams to escape hurricanes or Kyiv.  

So, I do not greet Spring with the same enthusiasm I greet Fall (even if it takes until late November to get here).

At some point, the pollen phase will be over, and we will be in the feels like 112 phase.

Anybody has any suggestions where the temp highs are mid-fifties to mid-sixties pretty much year-round, please let me know. Alison and I would definitely check into it!

 

House In Disguise

 

It's a magic trick!

We are in the process of disguising our house.

We got a brick house.  Yes, it's true.  She's built like a .... brick house.  Or so the song goes.

It is a special orangey brick color that screams...

Let's party like it's 1973!!!

Ok, honestly, it doesn't bother me that much.  The maintenance needs of brick are minimal to none.  I would look at other homes and go, "Yeah?  It's good looking compared to ours, but at least we don't have to worry about maintaining PAINT!!!"

But the brick color did not sit well with Alison.  And I have to admit, having a house the color of Trump's face seemed something worth moving away from.  Besides, the right color might help if we decide to sell it.  You know, in case we had grandchildren and wanted to move closer to them, preferably in a Blue County or area.

So, what does it look like now?

Ain't that sweet?

The color is called Scottish Moor.  We're one step closer to Outlander.

I think it's going to increase our home resale value.

Please don't tell the tax assessor. 

Well, who knows about that?  The picture above indicates I may need to start worrying about my patchy lawn.

Anybody know a cheap place to get astroturf?

So Goes the Mighty Oak

Our mighty oak is gone.  

We had it removed this week.

The most defining feature of our lot  was taken out,

It was a tough decision to make, but you can see the rotted part of the tree that had been growing at an exponential rate in the last few years.

If the tree fell on our house, it would come close to "totaling" our residence.

This is a picture of the base of the oak.  The two holes you see there were getting bigger and moved up the tree as far as you could test with a yardstick.

It was a big ol' tree.  It was perhaps the tallest and widest tree in our area.  It towered over our house majestically.  It provided a lot of cooling shade for our porch and backyard.

It also dropped limbs at a pretty good clip.  They would thud against our metal roof, and we would think, "This is it.  This is the big one." One limb did stab through the roof over our porch.  That was fun to fix.

Acorns would drop from the tree, hitting the metal roof with a sharp bang, making us think we were under siege.

Squirrels loved the acorns.  They were pretty bold around the tree.  This would provide great entertainment for the dogs, who, despite their determined efforts, were never quite able to catch a squirrel.  Sometimes watching them interact was like a Looney Tunes cartoon.

I don't know.  Maybe we were wrong.  Maybe the tree would have lasted longer than we thought.  But, given how much we have invested in the home, we couldn't take the chance.

I sure am gonna miss it, though.

 

Our Mighty Oak: Keeping Your Distance 23

Spread, mighty Oak!  Spread!

The dominant feature of our back yard is this rather large oak tree.

I wrote about it last week and used a picture of it from our front yard, where you could see it looming over our house.

So, I won't repeat all the stuff I wrote in that blog story.  I'll just let y'all enjoy the pictures.

I figured out that if I turn my phone differently, I'll get a different type of frame for the picture.  The first was a wide shot.  This is what I call normal.

There are a lot more settings to take pictures from, but don't press your luck.  Someday I might learn about them.  Today is not the day.

That doesn't even include Snapchat.  Like what?  You want me to put dog ears or a pirate eye patch on this beautiful tree?  I don't think so.

There are two holes at the base of the tree.  I have no idea what they mean,  I think they are slightly deeper than when we first bought the house.  But who knows?  A tree doctor, I am not.

There's nothing in them.  Pixie keeps checking to be sure.

Yes, I'm trying to mix my pessimistic posts with some that ....are not so pessimistic.

Trust me.

In times like this, it ain't easy.

I Am Surrounded by Covidiots: Keeping Your Distance 22

I am surrounded by covidiots.  I don't mean to sound so negative, but it's true.  It doesn't take much observation to realize that few are still taking this virus seriously.

Governor Kemp has decided to make Georgia the world's guinea pig, eliminating social distancing in the state. That may not be what he intended to do, but that's what has happened.  He took his foot off the brake, cracked open the door, and fools rushed in.

We don't have to do this.  We don't have to be lemmings.

Not everyone has a choice.  Many will be forced back to work, whether they want to or not.* Unemployment may not be available to you once your employer reopens.  Your small business may not be able to delay rent once the landlord realizes you have the Governor's permission to reopen.

We are putting many of our service workers into untenable positions.  But what they hey?  They're just marginal people anyways, right?  Burger flippers and people of low education and value.

But that's not the worst of it.  It's the behavior of people around those service workers.  The Governor and Trump have given them the go-ahead to not give a crap about others.  A store security guard in Michigan was shot and killed after refusing entry to someone because they weren't wearing a mask.  In another incident, a woman asks a man in a retail line to move to six feet away and instead moves closer.  Myself, I observed a man in a grocery store (unmasked, of course) making fun of social distancing to his female companion. 

We can't sacrifice for more than a couple of weeks, and then we break.  I honestly didn't know it would be this bad, but it is.

We'll have to see.  In another two to three weeks, we'll know how much this experiment has hurt our state, how many lives we have sacrificed so that we can pretend nothing is going on.

When I post stuff about this on Facebook, all the responses I get back are supportive.  Everyone who responds to me understands how dangerous this is, and are disgusted by the behavior of those not taking it seriously.  But clearly, somebody is going out there.  Clearly, somebody's making up the defiant, unprotected crowds I see out and about.

So, if you're one of those, I have to ask - what is going through your mind?  Do you think it's over?  Does the loss of life not bother you?  Have you wholly drunk the Kemp-Trump Koolaid?  I mean, really, what is going on???

We're all guinea pigs now, all of us in Georgia.  Even those who are trying to be careful are at risk. 

I noticed the numbers reported from the Georgia Department of Health fluctuate strangely.  Sometimes the numbers go down instead of up.  I read articles that indicated that both Kemp and DeSantis of Florida may be attempting to fudge the numbers.  I told this to someone important in my life, and they replied, "Why are you surprised?  Kemp fudged the numbers to get elected.  Why would he stop there?"

Indeed.  Why would he?

Welcome, fellow Georgians, to the status of being Kemp's guinea pigs.

God help us all.


*look, I understand part of why some are worried.  The social safety net in Georgia sucks big time, and the federal government is more interested in protecting large corporations and the wealthy.  The lifting of stay-at-home in Georgia is valuing not just the economy, but also the state budget over human lives, leaving many vulnerable and with no choice but to come back out.  This is not directed at service workers, who have little choice but to expose themselves, but to the a..hole customers who think social distancing is at an end.

Under the Old Oak Tree:: Keeping Your Distance 19

We have a very large oak tree in our back yard.

Can you see it looming over our house?

It's perhaps the largest tree in our neighborhood.  There are few oak trees, and I haven't seen one bigger,

It's relatively healthy (I think - I have failed to receive my tree doctor certification), but it occasionally loses branches.  Some thud against our metal roof, then slide down into the back yard, or stay on the roof until they can be swept off.

A couple years ago, one branch poked a small hole on the roof of our screened-in porch.  We were able to patch that up.

We have a lot of oak leaves in the back yard.  Sometimes we rake them up.  Sometimes we don't.  I'm not a yard care fanatic.  I must say, our yard looks better than ever - a positive side effect of the quarantine.  Sorry, neighbors - don't expect it to be a permanent change.

The oak tree drops a lot of acorns.  This attracts a lot of squirrels.  This is very entertaining for the dogs.  They don't catch them, though.  They are about as effective as Wiley E Coyote is with the Road Runner.  Boss-A-Man is particularly ineffective, as he loudly barks as he's headed outside, giving the squirrels plenty of notice.

The quarantine is giving us a better appreciation for where we live.

There are many frustrating things about the OCVID-19 crisis.

For me, being at home more is not one of them.

Acorn Bombardier

I've started to take Coca Bear on my morning walks.  It helps her with her stress levels, as she is getting more anxious as she ages.  It used to be that she would get nervous whenever it rained and try to get in our bedroom, toss dog beds, and clothing.  She would gnaw at the doorknob, tearing it up and causing her mouth to bleed, so we put a tennis ball on the doorknob.  She still can get it in, but it doesn't hurt her mouth.  It has now grown to be that she does anytime both Alison and I are gone.

The walks have helped a little bit.  It certainly hasn't hurt her.  The walk is pretty steady, except for an occasional pitstop.  At first, I wasn't bringing "pick up bags," but I've learned that lesson.  She doesn't have a problem leaving surprises not just in people's yards, but also in the middle of the road.  She needs to let people and animals know that "Cocoa Bear was here." I fight to prevent that message.

On the way back, over a block away from our house, I heard these thuds and pings, like little bombs, or large pieces of hail.  What house was so noisy?

It was our house.  We have a large oak tree in our back yard, and it spends a lot of the Fall and Early Winter shedding acorns all over our back yard.  Many of them hit our metal roof, making it sound like our house is always under siege.  Alison thinks it's one of the things contributing to Cocoa Bear's nervous, the military-like barrage striking the metal roof, then rolling down into our backyard.

Limbs periodically fall off this mighty oak.  That's a real thud when they hit.  One punched a hole in the top of our screened-in porch.  That was fun to fix.

Squirrels are attracted to our yard.  This creates a lot of entertainment for our dogs. They don't really catch the squirrels.  I don't know if they would know what to do with them if they did.  But it does provide exercise for all involved.

There is a hole in the tree near the base.  I think the hole is growing deeper, but I am not sure.  I am not sure of the overall health of the tree,  I think it's ok.  I'm sure it's one of those types of trees that have been there for a very, very long time.  I'm pretty sure it's the largest tree in our neighborhood.  We may get somebody to look at it, someone who can make an honest assessment, and not just have the ulterior motive of earning a lot of money to chop it down.

For now, we put up with our acorn bombardier and the occasional fallen limb.  It is a pretty tree.  It is a mighty tree. 

And when Cocoa Bear and I go for walks, we don't have to worry about getting lost.  We can follow the sound of the acorn explosions until we reach home again.

The Face of Waycross

I came here knowing no one, except a few of Alison's relatives.  I came here a stranger.

And then I met Paul Tang. 

On one of our first visits here, while we were still living in North Georgia, Alison, who was a Blackshear native, encouraged me to try out this Chinese restaurant she had grown to love.  It was hard for me to understand everything she was trying to tell me. Was it the food? The atmosphere?  The service?

It did not take me long to realize that it was Paul Tang.  This gregarious man greeted me like a long lost brother.  He shook my hand and talked about how wonderful Alison was.  I felt immediately accepted, and it made me feel so much better about this area. 

Alison's father, Johnny Aldridge, did the printing for Paul Tang's restaurant, Wong's Palace.  Alison had been eating there since she was a  small child.  Paul affectionately called Alison's father, Mr. Rich.  Was it because of the lucrative printing contract?  Probably not.  It most likely came from a re-interpretation of the name - Johnny Aldridge...Ald Ridge...All Rich.  Alison's father has a great sense of humor, and they would cut up a lot.

When Alison came back to Blackshear to get married, it was a no-brainer.  Our first stop after the wedding was to go to Wong's.  What better way to give you the most luck and love than to start your new life together at Wong's?

Within six months of getting married, we found an opportunity to move to Blackshear.  It was a risk, but knowing Paul Tang helped me make my decision.

We first worked together in the Bowen Building in Waycross.  And we would go to Wong's at least once a week.  I was determined to explore the whole menu, trying in order each combination.  And here was one of the great things about Wong's.  Once you know the menu and what you like, you could customize anything to your tastes.  Ask them if you could change things up, and the answer would always be, "No problem!  We can do it!"

My older boys would visit me sometimes, and we would always fit in a trip to Wong's.  And even though Paul would only see my older boys once a year or less, he always remembered who they were.  He knew their names, and asked follow-ups on the last conversation he had with them!

And when my son Benjamin came into our lives, he greeted and treated Benjamin as if he were his own son.  Benjamin loved Paul.  If you ask Benjamin where he wants to go to eat, he will always bring up Wong's. 

When we sold our little starter home on Church Street in Blackshear, we sold to a Chinese family who was operating Panda Restaurant in Blackshear.  They did not speak English, and communication was difficult.  Paul was kind enough to sit in our closing and help translate.  He made it so much easier for both families involved in the sale. He did not consider them competitors.  He considered it a service to his friends and his community.

When we travel, we often stop at different restaurants - Mexican, Italian, BarBQ, American, Greek, Thai.  But we do not stop at Chinese restaurants.  Because we know they will always disappoint compared to Wong's.  For my family, there is only one place - Wong's Palace.

Paul had been struggling with illness the last few years.  Many times he seemed to be winning, that he had beaten it back.  But recently he lost that battle.

No, he was not an intimate friend.  I knew him like many others as the smiling face of Waycross.  He meant the world to me, to my family, to many of us who live here.

He will always live on to me as the true face of Waycross.  He opened his arms and welcomed me in.  As he did for so many of us.

Benjamin will be home for Christmas break.  He will want to go to Wong's.  It will be hard on him that Paul is not there.  But I know how Benjamin thinks.  Paul's physical body may not be there, but his spirit will dwell there forever.  And not just at Wong's, but all around this area.  He lives on each of us whose lives have been touched by him.

We will go there with Benjamin.

And we will lift our sweet teas in his honor.

Paddling in the Wednesday Wandering River

Okay, that's not actually a river.  That's our neighborhood lake a few months ago when the dam had broken, and most of the water had drained out.  It's fixed now.  I think.  I haven't looked at it today.

I did go out for a walk, but I took a route that did not take me next to the lake.  My walk was shorter than usual.  I'm still trying to recover from recent foot pain, and I'm slowly building my exercise back up.

I don't know if the lake has a name.  Let me check with Alison.

---------------

She don't know, but she suggested I use Googly Maps.

-------------

I did that, and the name of the lake is Lakeview Country Club Lake.  Boy, the lake name is almost longer than the lake. 

Googly maps knows where I live.  That's kinda scary.

----------------------

We don't live in a country club.  That is the golf course on the other side of the lake.  It's a public golf course.  I don't play golf there.  I don't play golf anywhere.  I really haven't tried golf since Goliath swallowed the golf ball.

----------------------

I'm in the substitute teaching phase of my work year.  I have to know there is an assignment pending to come in.  It's about the lightest time, so maybe I can write more fiction, and also do more audio work.  We'll see.

----------------------

I have to be honest and say I really don't like being as heavy-set as I am.  Yes, I should just be concerned with being healthy (better diet and more exercise), but I cringe when I see pictures of myself.  I've always known I am stocky, and I can handle that, but I can't stand the stomach pooch.  It's too much, but nothing I do seems to make much progress on it.  I do think if I made it the ONE THING I could make progress, but as much as I hate the weight, I still have a hard time making it my exclusive focus. 

Some of my small band of loyal readers get perturbed if I'm too negative about myself, so...enough talk about my rotundity.

----------------------------

I'm in a play!  Murder on the Orient Express.  Performances start October 3rd.  I know my lines -  sort of.  Well, enough to be dangerous. It's coming along, and it should be an entertaining show.  My character is not the lead, but he has some great moments in the play, and I occasionally really get to chew up the furniture (translation: I get to let the ham flag fly).

-----------------------------

I'll skip politics this time.  Y'all know how I feel.  Just remember that by skipping it that it doesn't mean it's not affecting me.  Every second my heart is heavy because I have friends who still worship the orange Cheeto.

Okay.  Nuff said about that.

This time.

Wanderingly yours,

T. M. Strait

Lake Be Gone

It's gone.  The lake is gone.  It really wasn't a very big lake to begin with, more of a glorified pond.  But now it is a series of intermittent puddles, tree stumps, and muddy earth exposed.

There were very heavy rains a couple weeks ago, and a small earthen dam protecting the lake partially broke, and the lake has slowly drained away.

We don't live right night to the lake.  It's within sight of our house, though.  Well, if you stand at the edge of the far right corner of our yard.  That's as close to luxurious lakeside living as we get.  Now, we don't even get that.

I'm not a reporter, just a musing blogger.  So I don't really know when it will be fixed.  Alison says she has read that it needs to be fixed by spring.  No kidding.  If not, it will become one of the world's largest incubators for mosquitoes.  That stuff is stagnant, and it's gonna get real nasty when it warms up.

I've changed my Christmas wish list to asking for mosquito netting.

UPDATE:  Daylight come, and the lake still be gone

September Weather Blues

Trust me.

This is not what September looks like here.

Maybe in parts of North Georgia at some point in time, later in the Fall.

Not here in South Georgia. 

In South Georgia, Fall is an illusory concept.  Technically, Fall is still 18 days away from today (Sep 3).  Practically, we may have a few days that approach Fall-like weather in December or January.  And we may have something that ghosts Winter every decade or so.

Of course, this could change as climate change further shifts weather patterns.

Today, the high is projected to be 86.  I don't even want to talk about the feels like temperatures.  They range from seven to ten degrees higher.

Looking at a fifteen-day forecast, today has the lowest high temp for the next fifteen days,  The rest range from 88 to 91.  So much for any approaching Fall cooldown.

The way people get into holidays here is by over-decorating, mainly outdoors.  Even if it's not cooler, crisper temps, you can decorate like it is, and maybe fool some people.  It doesn't work.  Many a Halloween, I've sat on our porch giving out Halloween candy while swatting mosquitoes, gnats, and flies. The same phenomena happens when you try to walk off your Thanksgiving meal.  Heck, some years I do Christmas shopping while wearing shorts.


This is the most depressing time for me in the South, at least in relation to the weather.  I keep thinking it's going to get cooler, but the heat goes on and on and on.

All in all, though, it's not bad living here, disregarding the relentless heat and the right-wing extremist politics.  I have my family and friends here, and it's easy to find sausage 'n' cheese biscuits.  There are upsides.

The weather just isn't one of them.

A Once Every Two Decades Event

The first realization that some of the snow falling might stick, and not melt off the minute it hit the ground.

By northern standards, it was a fairly modest event.  A light dusting, a minor nuisance, the kind of early snowfall that could occur briefly in September by October.

By Southeast Georgia standards, it was a snowpocalypse, an unprecedented tsunami of snow and ice that had last occurred in Blackshear on Christmas Day 1989.

It was preceded by several hours of freezing rain, creating a slick layer of true danger.  We didn't think it would turn, even though the forecast said that it would.

But by around 11 AM, the rain began to turn to snow.

This is the front of my house at peak snow.  Yes, it wasn't enough to completely cover the ground, but it was definitely there.  It didn't melt the instant it hit the ground,  It actually stuck and stayed.

And a day later, much of it is still there!

Surprisingly, the small lake (big pond?) near our home did not freeze over.  No need to break out the ice skates, or the ice fishing hut.

Snow to Honda:  I have come to bury you!

Yes, I will wait until it melts off before I go anywhere.

1989 to 2017.  28 years between snowfalls.  Will the next wait for the next snowfall be that long?

I'm betting not. 

Why?  Because of the changing weather patterns caused by global warming.

Yes, because of global warming.  I know that's confusing to my Trumpeteer friends, but it's true,

Usually the rare Arctic blasts we get are composed of dry air, and not accompanied by moisture.  But with global warming, that is changing.  The clouds accumulate more moisture, and rain/snow events, when they happen, drop more moisture, causing floods and blizzards.

Global warming equals climate change equals more extreme weather events.

And we now have an administration whose response to global warming is to not just ignore it, but to accelerate and supercharge it.

Sigh.

Maybe I'll have to break down and buy an ice scrapper.

The Blog is Back and the Weather Posts Thunder On!

We're back!

After 55 hours without power, and 60 without internet, The Strait Line has finally emerged from the "Irma Days".

And, of course, we're back to weather related posts!

The picture above is Benjamin standing in front of our yard debris pile.  Trust me, it looks even bigger in person, and we added to it after that.  Our neighbors agree - we are the yard debris champs! We have a very large, very old oak tree in our back yard, and although the main trunk is more solid than our house, the limbs rain down big time during storms.

We also had some big pine tree limbs fall in the front yard, so big that a friend came over yesterday and helped saw them up, so they could be carried to the debris pile. I am very grateful to him.  I got nothing, not a chainsaw or electric saw or even regular saw.  You see that I don't saw.  I may have to rethink that.

We also were able to use a friend's freezer to store some meats we had recently gotten from the WayGreen Festival.  He had a generator, and was kind enough to give us some storage space.  The whirring sound of generators was strong in our neighborhood.  I don't own a generator.  I may be rethinking that as well,

We got out to look at how the neighborhood fared, and wound up talking more to people than at any time since we moved in over four years ago.  Political and religious differences, shyness and the self-absorbed busyness of our lives, all disappear in the aftermath of a huge storm.  It was heartwarming to see people out and about and supporting each other.  It was also nice to have a couple of days where the weather was cooler and I wasn't under siege by flying insects.

I admit that Irma was more substantial here than I thought.  It created a lot of mess and damage throughout Southeast Georgia, even with the main path well west of us, and it being a tropical storm rather than a hurricane by the time it passed us.  It is the most damage we've received from a storm, and the longest power outage I've experienced.

If the lesson was to learn how important power was, and to appreciate it, then I didn't need the lesson. I figured that out in the first hour of the outage.  I didn't need the next 54 for it to sink in .  Yep.  I loves lights and TV and hot showers and refrigerated food and computers and the internet.  Am I spoiled?  Indubitably.  But I can live with that.


One more weather story tomorrow, as I have to piece something together for a newspaper column.  I have it tentatively titled as Open Refrigerator Policy.

The Strait Line is back, baby!

I hope you are too!

The Never Ending Story of Summer in the South

The grass grows.  The gnats flow.  And summer's heat grinds on and on here in the South land.

We have had a plethora of rain, coming mostly in thunderous storms.  Almost traffic-stopping torrents, that make you wonder if the world will wash away, but don't last long enough to accomplish that frightening task.

It helps the farmer's needs, but also increases the whining buzz,  as the air is filled with nature's kamikaze pilots - the mosquito, bearer not just of annoyance, but also the bringer of diseases, some tropical and new.

There are those who prefer the heat, those who complain and are uncomfortable if the temperature falls below 80.  I am not one of those.  My conception of an ideal day is about 58 and heavily clouded.  I have no explanation for this, other than I may have been a vampire in a former life.

Growing up in Michigan, we did have a season of high temperatures and humidity, where mosquitoes dominated the skies, and the lack of air conditioning was very noticeable.  It went on and on, lasting up to maybe five weeks, unlike here, where the season ranges from six to nine months.

I cope with the extended heat like many cope with Michigan's long winters; I stay inside as much as possible.  It's not too big a burden.  I have an indoor job, and a wide range of indoor hobbies and interests.

It would be a mistake, however, to draw from that a conclusion that I am not an outdoors person. I do like to get out and walk,  It is good exercise, and helps fuel my writing ideas.  With my impending change of work schedule (moving to a semi-retired status in the accounting profession), I'm looking forward to more early morning walks, hopefully before the gnats wake up and realize their favorite human is out and about,

Direct sunlight is a problem.   Sunburn is not the problem.  Sweat isn't a problem either; I don't seem to sweat much.  I just go straight to sunstroke. My temperature destabilizes, and the world spins.  At least I don't glow, or burst into flames.

So, why live in the heat?  Why not just move to a climate more suited to me?

Well, despite the dislike of many in Michigan for the extended cold, many still live there.  And for many of the same reasons that I continue to live in Southern Georgia.

Because this is where my family is.  This is where my job and friends are.  This is where I have grown to love the caring and blessings of the church we have chosen to attend.  This is where I have shined in community theater, and participate in other organizations where I believe I and others are helping to make a difference.

People can be wanderers.  I'm certainly not where I grew up.  Many of us take winding roads to end up in places quite different from where we started.  But eventually, most of us settle, and take up roots.  And as much as we have the instinct to wander, we also have the desire to take root. And South Georgia is where I and my family have laid down our roots.

Very few places have ideal weather year round.  I mean, we all can't live in Hawaii. People are special everywhere.  Natural beauty can be found everywhere.  The soul takes root, where the soul takes root.

So I slather on the Bug Be Gone.  I wear a protective hat.  I am even contemplating getting a beekeeper's helmet.  And, of course, I complain and kvetch, knowing that, really, I wouldn't move for the world, not from the wonderful life my family and I have built up.

A shorter summer wouldn't hurt, though.

Oh, The Places We'll Go!

An amazing little library I found in Pasadena, California about two years ago. 

Oh, the places you'll go!

I've always loved libraries.  Spending time with collections of books is in my blood.

My Dad, the high school principal, would take me up to work with him on Saturdays and I would happily spend time in the school library, by myself, alone, roaming through the collected adventures of mankind.  Books of mythology, of history and adventure, of fact and fiction.  I could traverse the whole world in just a few hours.

The most frequently recurring dream I have is that there is a secret stairway in the closet of my home, and that it leads to a large underground library. where I happily roam the stacks until I awake.

In college, I loved exploring the huge multi-floored libraries of the University of Michigan.  I would try to study my assigned school work, but often the pageantry of books would be too much, and my attention would wander.

Later, I was accepted into the School of Library Science at Emory University, but life took me on a different course. I often wonder what things would have been like had I stuck with it.

On a trip to Pasadena, California, to visit with my film editor son, Greg, I saw near the sidewalk of a residential area, a decorated wooden box  labeled "Little Free Library."  Insides it's clear door were books that people were swapping - leave a book, pick a book - expressing the communal joy of reading and sharing.

But that was a California idea, too fancy and artsy for the likes of Georgia.

Or so I thought.

 

Lo and behold!  We now have a Little Library box in Blackshear City Park!  A beautiful box, near the children's playground, soon to be stuffed with wonderful adventures to be shared and loved!

This Little Library is courtesy of the efforts, among others, of the Friends of the Library, and to my late friend, David Rollison.

I am so grateful for their efforts.  It helps confirm that Blackshear is indeed a very special town.  And I will always think fondly of David when I see it.

Tax season has kept me from many things, but soon I will have to visit. and pick up a book or two, and leave a couple for others.

Oh, yes!  The places we'll go!

Thank you, Friends of the Library.

Thank you, David.

I believe this is Sandra Deal-  the Governor's wife, Sara Rollison  (I know that one for sure) and Stephanie Bell,  I will come back and correct if I am wrong.

Miracle on Main Street Part 2

In Part 1, Alison and I find a cat that is in the road on Blackshear's Main Street, hit and broken, blood pouring out of ever orifice.  Even though it is late Sunday evening, we find the vet Dr. Kimbrell at his clinic.  No one believes the cat has a chance to survive.

Dr. Kimbrell believed that the cat would most likely be dead by Monday morning.


But when Monday morning came, Dr. Kimbrell had different news.  "I can't really believe this, but your cat is doing much better.  If you're sure, we could go ahead with the jaw operation,"  Elation was mixed with dollar signs, but we told him to proceed.

The surgery was a success, and the cat grew miraculously stronger every day.  Dr. Kimbrell couldn't help but notice that this was not some polite, sweet domesticated pussy, but instead a cantankerous alley cat, around two to three years old, having had kittens within the last six months.  Just a regular cat, no special breed; still her gray and blue stripes and cagey black eyes emphasized her wild, tiger-like qualities.

When it became apparent that the cat was going to survive to come back to us, a whole new set of problems arose.  She would have to be contained and watched for the next six weeks, fed soft foods and given medicines,  How were we to do this in our little one room apartment, with an already full contingent of pets?

We had a training crate in which we had housetrained our Maltese, Bailey.  We got that out and set it up in a corner of our apartment.  The cat eyed us warily, hissing if any of us got too close.  Alison's cat of five years, a beautiful sweet calico named Patches, was quite indignant at first, but had established a position of mutual non-acknowledgement by the end of the first week,  Our birds, two lovebirds named Lucy and Ricky, and Goldie, s Sun Conure, were blithely unaware of any risk, and just thought of it as something else to watch.

As we watched the cat slowly heal, and its fierce independence take hold, we began to wonder what would happen on that day when it was healed and had to be uncaged.  We would let the cat out and never see it again.  What would our investment of time, money, and care have been for then?

We knew to even have a shot, we would have to have a home of our own.  But most homes were well beyond our limited means.  Nevertheless, we redoubled our efforts to find someplace to live.

Our increased efforts paid off.  Alison's mother's boss owned three homes in Blackshear, and they had always been kept as a unit, but he had decided to sell them as separate lots.  One was a small two bedroom, which considering where we were, was absolutely huge to us.  And the price was, amazingly enough, within our meager budget.  So we managed to secure a new residence, at about the same time our Main Street cat would be ready to be released.

We went to the vet one more time, taking the wiring out of her jaw and decided that the least we could do is limit future strays in Blackshear, and paid to have her spayed.  We realized that "Cat" wouldn't do for her medical records, so we named her Main, after the street where she was found.

When we got Main into our new home, Alison thought it might be nice to have another indoor cat, like our lovable Patches.  This experiment lasted approximately one hour, with our Sun Conure, Goldy, barely escaping with its life.

This was a traumatic moment for us. When we opened the door to let Main out, we knew we were probably saying goodbye, as she resumed the life of a wild stray.  I consoled Alison by saying that the good deed itself was worth doing, even if we would no longer share in Main's life.  But I barely believed it myself, thinking - there goes one ungrateful, nasty cat.

But she didn't just disappear. What disappeared were all the squirrels and birds in our yard.  She would meow at the back door for us to set out cat food (I guess the squirrels and birds were just delicacies).  We would open a window shade and staring back at us would be....Main!

Even more strange, as time went on, she became less wild, more friendly and docile.  She had used her freedom to become more attached to us, not less!  At first she did not want to be touched, but she grew to the point where you couldn't just go out to feed her.  no, she insisted you stay and pet her before she would even consider eating.

She started to get jealous of our walks with Bailey (and later our two dogs, as we added a rescued Pembroke Welsh Corgi named Ivy), and decided to come on the walks with us.  What a sight!  The group of us marching down the residential streets of Blackshear, looking more like a circus caravan.  Sometimes she would go the whole walk with us, and sometimes she would go part way and then wait for us to come back, happily crashing into out dogs (who were too tired to care).

More than two years later, our miracle kitty is still with us, growing more loving every day.  She has indeed led us, to more than I could have ever imagined.  We love our little home and community, we have gone on to much better and brighter jobs, our finances have stabilized, and our spiritual faith has grown.  And our little family is growing yet again.  Alison is pregnant with our first child, one whom I pray is as big a pet lover as we are.

And I pray that our Main continues to be there in our back yard, so that I can take our child by the hand and say, "Do I believe in miracles?  Why, of course I do!  Let me open the back door, and I'll show you one!"


Sadly, Main disappeared shortly after this was written.  We don't know what happened, whether he decided to go elsewhere or had an accident somewhere.  Benjamin never got to meet him.  Still, he has this story.  And he has a mother who has continued to rescue animals, including ones that have been abused, shot, beat, teeth filed, and throats slit; and she has turned them into sweet and loving pets.

God bless the Miracle of Main.  God bless what love, hope and faith can do.