Updates on Wireless Utility Meters, and My Unplugged House, and Severe Weather

Wireless utility meters, the ones that save the power company money and send their radiation through our homes that I blogged about last month, are now helping tech savvy burglars know when your house is empty (ripe for burglarizing) because they've been intercepting wireless signals and noticing that when a home is empty the power usage drops to near zero. This is just one more reason wireless utility meters have a negative impact when used in our communities.

Unplugging things in my house has really made an impact on my power bill. The last bill was down to an amazing new low of $34. 14. This is partly due to the fact that I am out of the house on my travels for a good part of each month (as anyone intercepting the wireless signals coming from my house could easily deduce) and the other part has to do with the unseasonably cool and breezy nights that have allowed me to keep the inside temp in the 70s without the A/C. I know this won’t last much longer. I really figured the bill before this one was going to be my all-time low but the latest was a pleasant surprise. I do plan to update with the bad news when I get my dog days of summer electric bill and I figure you can imagine in advance the look I’ll have on my face when I open that bill.

Last month I also blogged a plea to readers to get connected to some kind of severe warning system, like Camden County’s Code Red. With the news of powerful storms that are still wreaking havoc over tornado alley and the beginning of hurricane season (remember last year’s season ender-Hurricane Sandy), I hope everyone will take time to organize a survival plan, gather supplies, and get connected to an early warning system. I was recently reading an article about scientific evidence that concurs with the obvious; the weather is becoming more extreme, so now is the time to be thinking about being pre-warned and prepared.

Crab and Coconut Updates

Last October I blogged about the land crabs that inhabit Andros and after two solid days of seasonal downpours here I am happy to announce that they are once again coming out of their burrows and just in the nick of time for the upcoming Crab Fest of which they are the delectable guests of honor. The town of Fresh Creek has a nice statue of the festival’s honoree in the center of the town’s roundabout to welcome guests and residents all year round.

Last October I also blogged about a coconut that had sprouted in front of my husband’s abode and I am happy to provide you with this update on its progress. I have transplanted it into yet another larger pot and the leaves of its newest frond reach nearly my height. Another coconut sprouted and now resides in the pot in which the first one was originally planted. In addition to the two coconut palms we have added a small potted lime tree so eventually we can put de lime in de coconut and so on. All seem content about the torrential rain we've had here during the last two days of my most recent visit.

And about all this rain, I hope the plane to West Palm Beach today won’t need pontoons!

The Glowing Plant Project

How cool would it be to grow your own living lights? If you choose to back a campaign on the funding site, Kickstarter, you could. Kickstarter is an internet platform and resource site for raising funds for a variety of individual creative projects.  Building on work that led to lamps made from genetically engineered bioluminescent bacteria, the workers behind the Glowing Plant Project have added bioluminescent genes to the genome of thale cress. This project could eventually lead to a sustainable alternative to electric lighting indoors and out, though at this point the plants only give off a dim illumination. I can only imagine strolling through a city park on a seemingly magical night down a path meandering along under the soft glow of the trees. And it seems that this is a dream that could be realized in my lifetime. In the meantime though you can have the seeds for glowing plants sent to you for a mere pledge of $40.

Ren Rou Sou Sou

Chinese ren rou sou sou is term given to human flesh search engines or groups of netizens that expose injustices and corruption using the internet as a new and effective route for vigilantism in China. Most recently I was reading about ren rou sou sou exposing private information about the family of a Chinese child that defaced an ancient Egyptian artifact, carving his name on it, while they were on vacation touring in Egypt, and the child himself, now a teenager. The focus of the article I was reading seemed to be more about how the Chinese, who spend hundreds of billions in tourism dollars each year, are culturally insensitive, as this act of vandalism indicates. I’d even go so far as to consider the Chinese as taking over the role as the new “Ugly Americans Chinese,” just a thought. But back to ren rou sou sou…Other incidents exposed by the human flesh search engines include acts of animal cruelty and inappropriate behaviors by Chinese workers with some authority. Ren rou sou sou’s public shamings have resulted in job losses and have forced the exposed to make very public apologies. Ren rou sou sou summed up seems to be a kind of trial by group opinion and as such has in some instances in going after suspected wrong doers committed invasions of privacy on those of mistaken identity. Though we don’t have the ren rou sou sou phenomena here I am pretty sure I saw an inkling of this sort of thing on Face Book this morning when I read a notice accompanied by a photo of a person that was seen using credit cards stolen from a car that had been broken into in a rash of car burglaries in Kingsland and St. Marys. It wasn't exactly ren rou sou sou because viewers were admonished to contact the police department if they knew the identity of the person in the photo, and the perpetrator didn’t post his own video or photo, but still when you consider that nothing is completely private once you put it on line, well it’s just something to think about. The concept of ren rou sou sou has left me with more questions than answers.

Today’s Title is Tidal

A little homophone and alliteration today was suggested by my favorite blog topic co-conspirator  best friend with a place in the Bahamas for me, and husband. So today’s title is tidal and it’s also Memorial Day, a day set aside to remember and honor those fallen who served in wars beginning with the Civil War. Originally the day was called Decoration Day and decorating the graves of fallen veterans is still a big part of Memorial Day along with picnics and cookouts. Memorial Day is the informal signal for the beginning of summer too. Memorial Day is an American holiday but many other countries have their own days of remembrance, including the Bahamas where veterans of WWI and WWII are honored each November. But this Memorial Day I am reminded that the tides of war are still with us, even if far from our shores, we still have brave men and women paying the ultimate price for our freedoms. In the Bahamas this Memorial Day when the tide recedes, I’ll walk out over the rocks and sand exposed, and observe life in a myriad of tidal pools, some still and some flowing. I’ll count sea urchins with their pointy barbs, tiny tropical fish, crabs and creatures that leave trails of bubbles from hastily dug underwater burrows. I’ll rescue a starfish or two that have washed up too far whose pools are drying up too quickly or have tunnels to the moving tide too narrow to ensure their survival. I’ll reflect on the all the lives touched, including my own, by the tides of war and the sacrifices of those we are tasked with remembering on this day.  

Business as Usual

So I was looking at a Jacksonville News website and right after reading how the smart phone killed the three day (Memorial Day) weekend by being a constant interruption for all the usual family outdoor fun stuff, I secretly applauded myself for being phone free in the Bahamas as always. No service from my provider helps but that’s beside the point. Then I spotted a section on the website called the St. Marys’ Police Blotter-May 2013. Before I say what I saw there let me point out ironically that even though I have turned off my cell phone (like I always do) here in the BS I do go on line so in truth secretly applauding myself is pretty hypocritical. Now for the scoop on St. Marys’ Police Blotter-May 2013, here is what I saw below the photo of a SMPD cruiser-No police reports at this time. Nice to know things are business as usual back home. Of course there were some other crazy headlines of enough importance to get them on the website and these weren't under the heading of Strange and Unusual News where I would have expected to find them either. Two of my favorites were -Couple stabs each other over American Idol conflict and Mother has son arrested for stealing her Pop-Tarts. Go figure!

Beach, Birds, and Things

The first birds we took note of at the beach this morning were a pair of Piping Plovers. When a predator or a careless human (me) comes too close to Piping Plover chicks or a nest with eggs in it, the adult bird will try to draw the intruder away by pretending to have an injured wing. I actually got to see this behavior at Marine Beach today and it was pretty cool and successfully distracting. I only saw the chick for a minute and though I could hear it peeping, it successfully hid among the Casuarina trees while I watched its parent fake a wing injury. Looking back into the Casuarinas did reward me with a good view of a hairy woodpecker instead, but I soon resumed my search for shells and sea glass. Apparently we strayed far enough out on the rocks looking at sea urchins, small neon green fish, and starfish that when we came back in the Plover family was caught unawares granting us a peek at two tiny well camouflaged chicks darting away through the seaweed wrack line and beyond at the urging of their parents.

We then biked over to CCBeach, inside the little harbor and sandy, not rocky, for a stop at the bathrooms before a swim. In the bathroom we came face to face with a tiny black-faced grassquit who had probably flown in for a drink of fresh water. I preferred him to the frogs that I usually encounter there. On the lounge chair down by the shore, my friend Shannon laid out all the little shells she’d collected in a line. She told me that if any of the shells moved while we were swimming she’d know those were occupied and she’d leave them at the water’s edge. From the water we watched a Great Blue Heron stroll by looking at the shells for signs of life snacks. I don’t know how many more of these beach trips I can take (big sigh)…probably at least two trips each day I am here.

Revetment

While reading about the 10 best beaches on MSN this morning and thinking about the trip to the beach on Andros that I am about to take this beautiful May morning, I came across my word for today, revetment. I like how this one (unlike others I've blogged on about) didn’t get a squiggly line under it. Even though to me it seemed like it should have been a misspelled word, the computer (portable brains) recognized it, and I decided to look it up. No, revetments aren't related to reventments, a word I just made up about feeling the need to vent about the same thing over and over again. Revetments are embankments, often made of masonry, that serve as blast barricades. War references abound about these revetments used during the Civil War, or as I've heard it called in South Georgia, the war of northern aggression, but that’s a topic for a different blog. The revetments I was reading about and mulling over in my mind are built (frequently man-made) to protect and even create beaches and one surrounds the turning basin, and subsequently the beach, here. The wall here protects the beach from eroding waves and you can see them as they pound the wall sending spray up and sometimes over. The result is a relatively smooth (sometimes like glass and sometimes choppy) shallows and beach. The water is so clear that even when I’m in up to my chin I can still see my tippy toes and snorkeling along the revetment is truly a treat. Seeing the variety of sea life that has taken up residence is never boring. This beach didn’t make it into MSN’s top ten but that’s ok because it is number one with me!

Your Genes-There’s a Patent on That!

Surprise, since 1982, the U.S. Patent and Trade office has been issuing patents on human genetic material. In fact, there are currently 3,000 to 5,000 patents on human genes in the United States alone. Angelina Jolie brought this topic to the forefront with her announcements regarding her own genetic risk of breast cancer, a genetic tendency that figured in her own mother’s death at an early age. The genes in question related to breast cancer are called BRCA1 and BRCA2 and there is an argument going on over the ethics of patenting them. Some (the drug companies) argue that gene patents drive medical innovations but others including the Supreme Court are skeptical and considering whether or not the patents are valid. These patents are connected to the lucrative business of testing for various tendencies, in the case of BRCA1 and BRCA2, breast and ovarian cancer risks. I just italicized lucrative because I think the gene patents drive more than just innovation. They drive profit. Case in point is the patenting of genetically modified crops. And consider all the tests available, many routinely required for unborn and newborn babies. The science involved with genetics and these patents are three decades ahead of any Supreme Court decisions which says more about how fast some things are moving and highlights how slow others are to catch up. Fortunately (I think) for me I was born (with all my own unpatented genes) before genes were being patented. I wonder if that could mean a break in the event I find myself needing an expensive test related to a patented gene. I guess I’d just need to convince them that I should be considered “Grandmothered” in.    

Pedal Pubs

Despite my innate dislike of driving (and I do a lot of it) I think it might be fun to be the designated pedaler for one of these Pedal Pubs. I've heard of other kinds of entrepreneurs peddling their wares. Consider bicycle driven ice cream sellers or hotdog vendors, and then there are people transporters, pedicabs, so why not Pedal Pubs? Pedal Pubs (a combo of both concepts plus alcoholic beverages) are bicycle like devices, basically pedal powered taverns that groups of like-minded pub crawlers can rent for the purpose of pedaling and imbibing as they amble along through a city bar district.  They look a bit like open air trolleys with seating for up to sixteen pedalers to face each other around the bar in the center. There are complications involved with registering and permitting these vehicles and they vary from place to place since there are no federal regulations set for Pedal Pubs. In some places there are hopes of allowing the pubs if they use a licensed designated driver. Open container laws came to my mind immediately and depending on how the vehicle is viewed, those laws, if applied, would put a definite damper on the business. A Pedal Pub wouldn't be much of a Pedal Pub without the pub aspect, if you ask me. Nevertheless, within the last few years, human-powered taverns have become fixtures in more than two-dozen U.S. cities, including San Diego; Nashville; Houston; Flagstaff, Ariz.; and Minneapolis, all places I have yet to visit.

Oh well, St. Marys is too small to have a bar or pub district so I’ll have to make plans to expand my travels if I ever expect to realize the opportunity to become a designated pedaler after all.

American Red Cross

The Red Cross is offering aid, comfort, and support in Oklahoma today. It’s what they do. The media has given and will continue to give everyone an extensive view of the devastation there. If you are interested in performing random acts of kindness like I am, today would be a good day to text a donation. Making a small donation might not seem like much and certainly won’t do anything to negate the destructive force of nature but, for me, it is something I can do at a time when events like these traumatize our collective humanity. Offering prayer and for the nonreligious, positive intention, is already underway as evidenced on social media even as the tornado was touching the lives of so many. I am keeping the people that are suffering so many losses in my thoughts and prayers too. I copied the following from the Red Cross’ website and plan to do my small part in the relief effort in Oklahoma by supporting their mission and you can too.   

The American Red Cross shelters, feeds and provides emotional support to victims of disasters; supplies about 40 percent of the nation's blood; teaches skills that save lives; provides international humanitarian aid; and supports military members and their families. The Red Cross is a not-for-profit organization that depends on volunteers and the generosity of the American public to perform its mission. For more information, please visit redcross.org.

Sunflower Reminiscences

Think of those giant sunflowers pictured on the seed catalogues that arrive in my mail box each winter. They are often pictured with some guy on a ladder to show how tall they grow. I still get those catalogues ten years later even after the original seed orderer has been long gone. I think he loved sunflowers because he liked to grow things big and he had an affinity for birds. He would walk outside with peanuts and his own garden grown sunflower seeds in his pockets and the birds would come eat out of his hands.

I planted a garden a couple of springs back and towering above corn, that was tall enough for my grandchildren to hide in, were random sunflowers, garden sentinels watching from above all the weeds, rabbits, tomatoes, and other assorted vegetables I’d tried my hand at growing.

This year I have a few things planted in buckets and old pots, a little, somewhat ramshackle but nevertheless productive, container veggie garden. I've hoarded a barrel of rainwater to keep it going when nature doesn’t send a regularly spaced supply. I’d also collected soil from my backyard where I’d tossed discarded bird seed from our parrot, Wazoo, a faithful conversationalist of limited vocabulary for thirty plus years, to our chickens. The “girls” (half a dozen hens) run to me in anticipation every morning for this little extra treat that keeps them occupied while I fill their feeder. I guess that was where the most recent crop of miniature sentinels, sunflowers, that popped up with the garlic and basil came from. As I was mourning the coming demise of my snow peas with the onset of warmer summer temperatures I spotted the soon to open blooms of the sunflowers. And sunflower reminiscences made me smile.  

Dell Homes Splash Park-Jo Likes It!

The last time I was in St. Petersburg, FL, I met an interesting fellow blogger named Jenn. She told me about her blog, Jenn Likes It, while we were volunteering at the Stellie Bellies store on Fourth Street. The Stellie Bellies crew was coordinating an epic, smokin’ hot parking lot sale because the store suffered extensive smoke damage from a fire in an adjacent store. Anyway, Jenn blogs about family friendly venues and events in the St. Pete area, so I figured, along with giving a nod to Jenn’s blog, I’d create my own little spin off and let my readers know about one of my favorite places in St. Pete, Dell Homes Spray Park.

Dell Holmes Park is located at 2441 22nd St S in St. Petersburg, FL, on the shores of beautiful Lake Maggiore. If you’re looking for some free outdoor family fun it’s the place to go. The park has a pier for year round fishing in the lake, picnic shelters with grills, a golf course, and a very fun splash pad-park that was added in 2009. The park is open May 1 thru October 31st, 7 days a week from 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. and was recently (yesterday) the scene of my grandson Jude’s 5^th birthday celebration where wet, wild fun time was had by all. The splash pad accommodates up to 70 kids so there is plenty of room for everyone to have fun. And best of all…Jo Likes It!

Cappy Tom, a Pretty Little Killer

He’s a green-eyed devil and a long, lanky stalker with a flicking tail. Snakes and glass lizards enter our yard at their own peril. He trotted up to the front door with one between his teeth just the other morning. It looked dead and for while it played possum on my welcome mat. But it didn’t stand a chance when it tried to sneak away under Cappy’s watchful eye. Cappy likes to go ninja on the family pooch, Fred, whenever he feels like it for no doggie discernible reason. For the most part, Cappy comes and goes as he pleases. He visits various cat ladies’ houses in the neighborhood and samples their cat chow too. He can be quite demanding at times and totally self-sufficient at others. He prefers to do his business outdoors and that suits me fine, although in case of emergency, he knows the way to my bathroom. I hadn't planned on introducing him to my husband because I didn’t think he was planning to come this far north when he came stateside this weekend, but he did. They met and for the duration of the visit Cappy smartly decided to stay off the table. They got along fine.

Things I've Missed

My kitchen is tiny. If I could change one room in my house this would be the room. Today it is only crowded with the memory of my husband making breakfast for me as we do a complicated dance in an effort to stay out from under one another’s feet, working together in such a small space. All that changes tomorrow. He has a tendency to leave the cabinet doors open and I have a tendency toward bumping my head on the open cabinet doors.

My house has three bathrooms. The one attached to my bedroom has my husband’s throne, his so called adult-sized commode. The other two have squatty potties. I don’t close the door because the morning daylight coming from the solar tube (sky light) wakes me gently. I gave up my alarm clock last summer and I haven’t missed it. My husband is the cabinet door opener and bathroom door closer.

My bedroom has a high mahogany sleigh bed with the same mattress as the ones in the Fairmont Hotel in San Francisco, super comfy. I have a step on my side to facilitate getting in each night and out each morning. My husband is a cover stealer but I haven’t had to fight for the covers in quite some time. When I throw my arm over to his side of the bed lately I find myself hugging my folded laundry. When I mentioned to him on SKYPE last night that I was going to be busy clearing my clothes off his side of the bed before he came home today, he told me not to worry, he would sleep on my side with me. The easier to steal the covers, I figured.

Bumping my head on open cabinet doors, sleeping well past dawn, with my husband rather than my laundry, these are things I have missed.

Dreams, Decoded by Computers!

Have any really strange ones lately? Some people, like my grandkids for example, remember theirs and retell them in vivid terms. The other day, one of my granddaughters was dreaming in Spanish when she was awakened by a text message from her mother reminding her that it was time to get up and get ready for school. My youngest grandson is awakened by dreams almost every night. I've heard him mumble, “Bad dream,” almost as if he is scolding it for waking him up even as he is falling back into sleep. I am one who rarely remembers a dream, though I am sure I have them. This could be soon be remedied by Japanese researchers involved in teaching computers to recognize images in dreams.

Using advanced medical imaging technology and some complex mathematical formulas, Japanese researchers are training computers to recognize the images passing through the minds of sleepers during early dream stages. The people in their studies were hooked up to machines and awakened during sleep over 200 times, approximately every six minutes and asked to relate what image they were seeing in their dream. I am glad I was not a part of this study because as much as I’m curious about my dreams, I prefer a good night’s sleep and I think I would be one cranky test subject. Then the scientists and researchers put all the data together and developed a computer program to read the dreams and they were surprisingly accurate, from 60% to as much as 75% accurate in many cases. Decoding dreams is just a small key to understanding how the brain works and this research could have wide ranging implications for brain research in other areas.

Machines that can read my mind, at first I thought, wow, very awesome, but upon reflection, I am not so sure I’d want anyone to be able to read my mind, even if only in my dreams.

Those Bustards!

Nope, this is not a misspelling and yes, I am definitely using a fowl word. Bustards are considered in a lot circles to be the heaviest of all flying birds. There is more than one of kind of bustard, of course. The largest of the species are Kori Bustards and Great Bustards, and the smallest of the species are, naturally, the Little Brown Bustards. They are found in southern and central Europe, where they are the largest species of bird, and across temperate Asia. The European bustard populations are mainly resident, but the Asian birds migrate south in winter. Large males may weigh up to 44 lbs. but usually average between 30 and 35 lbs. This may not seem like much but try keeping that weight in the air for 2500 miles! A study revealed that bustards living in Mongolia traveled at least that great a distance to escape the harsh winters, where temperatures can go lower than 50 below zero. I would definitely want to “hot foot” it out of there when winter came on too! The biggest drawback for migration is the bustard’s body weight. In the bird world, most birds soar to conserve their energy which means they ride the wind on their wings. Migratory birds (other than these bustards) fly non-stop for days. The bustards, however, having such heavy bodies, have to flap their way south. Just the thought of that makes me tired. Of course, there are plenty of “rest” stops because the bustards would rather walk or run than fly. The frequent stops mean it takes longer to travel too. The treks that were studied ended up taking about 4 months. This makes me think of the old joke about why birds fly south in the winter because it’s too far to walk. I don’t know about you but when it comes to distance travel, I think I’d rather go by plane because that way my arms won’t get so tired. Poor bustards don’t have that option!

Not Just Another Day in Paradise-Plucked from the Waters Off Andros

Last month in my Shark Bite Update I wrote about how Andros Captain, Jim Thompson, put himself and his boat between a hungry shark and some snorkelers in a daring rescue that pitted the shark against Captain Jim’s inflatable. To summarize briefly, the shark bit the boat and the snorkelers got away.

This month’s heroic rescue from the waters off Andros involved Logan LeFevre, Lana Long, Barbara Kline, Chris Suchier, Dan Nichol, Gary and Lisa Kingsley, and a very lucky local named Harry. The following is an account of this extraordinary day as retold to my husband, whose motto just happens to be Another Day in Paradise-Another Opportunity to Excel.

Not Just Another Day in Paradise

Just off the coast of Andros Island lie “the Goats;” not farm animals but actual small coral-formed islands. Local lore indicates that shepherds would put their goats on the island because the goats could graze but couldn't run away or get lost in the pine barrens on the big island of Andros. The islands themselves; especially the north end which is exposed to open ocean, present quite a navigational challenge when seas are running and it’s not uncommon for very large waves or swells to crash close into the islands; covering the island with salt spray and decimating any careless navigator’s boat who has sailed too close.

Enter Harry, a 48 year-old Bahamian, out for a pleasant but somewhat blustery Sunday. Skies were clear with a few fleeting clouds and Harry considered May 5th a good fishing day. Putting his cooler and fishing accouterments in his canoe-type craft, Harry headed out for an area inside of the Goats to catch some fish. Harry wasn't able to foretell that his small craft would be pulled out by the running seas and blustery wind, nor could he visualize that soon his small craft would smashed against the coral and he would be clinging for his life to his white cooler in shark-infested waters.

South of the Goats is the entrance channel to the Atlantic Undersea Test and Evaluation Center, referred to as AUTEC. Logan LeFevre, Lana Long, Barbara Kline, Chris Suchier, and Dan Nichol noticed what a bright, beautiful day it was and decided this would be a prime opportunity for some swimming, snorkeling, spear fishing, sightseeing or whatever; a good day to be on the water. Having reached the North End of the Goats, Logan jumped in the water and was ready for some spear fishing; using a drag line (the boat pulls you through the water until you spot a target). Ever vigilant, Lana scanned the horizon. Small conversation being exchanged about how big the swells were, often times blocking view of the shore line. Lana spotted something in the water and then the plaintive, pleading call for help. Somewhat taken aback, Lana refocused and confirmed there was someone in the water. The person was only visible at intervals because of the incessant rolling swells. Others in the boat heard the plea and turned their attention to it as well. Lana brought Logan up and showed him what she spotted. Immediately, they knew what needed to be done. Logan swung the boat around and headed toward the object in the water that appeared to be two people as they neared and contacted the Autec Marine department on the radio. Autec Marine responded, notifying the Autec Fire and Rescue team, other boaters in the area responded as well with their positions and advised they were enroute.  Meanwhile, Logan realized he would not be able to approach without endangering his own craft and the people in it.

Quickly deciding what must be done, all hands set about securing an anchor point as Logan donned his snorkeling gear and jumped in the water. Busy hands passed a spare life vest and line as Logan established a reference point to the floundering Harry quite some distance away.  In the boat, Dan focused his camera on the individual allowing Logan to periodically look back to be sure he was heading in the right direction since the swells impaired his vision of Harry. Finally arriving close aboard to Harry, Logan tried to talk to Harry. It was soon apparent Harry could not swim, was physically exhausted, and was scared out of his wits. Unable to establish dialogue and knowing Harry would not let go of the cooler, Logan submerged and slipped the life vest on Harry upside down to give him floating support. Once sure the life vest was secured, Logan dove to find the “other person”. Diving several times, Logan discovered the “other person” was actually a rubber mat resting on the bottom. That’s when he saw them, two bull sharks on either side in circling patterns. Even though they weren't large (how large does a shark have to be to take a bite out of you), knowing they were there led to a strong possibility of big brother and sister entering the area to see what all the fuss was about. Recognizing he had a limited time window, Logan surfaced near Harry and once again tried to get him to speak. Harry wasn't about to let go of his cooler or leave his boat so thinking quickly  Logan draped a slip knot over his arm, approached Harry, introduced himself extending his hand and the man reflexively grabbed it. Logan, having come from a small rodeo town, slipped the line over Harry’s arm and cinched it. Harry, too weak to protest, was towed away from his cooler and boat.

Six other boats in addition to AUTEC Fire and Rescue arrived on scene. Gary and Lisa Kingsley positioned their boat to make a valiant effort to intercede and assist. It was quickly evident that if they continued in the swells would carry them to a peak and then dash them and their boat against the submerged coral.  At one of those peaks, Lisa hurled a line at least 50 feet to approaching Logan and Harry. As Gary struggled to get their boat out of danger, Logan was able to finally secure Harry to the Kingsley’s line. Once Harry was alongside the boat, Gary had to physically lift him out of the water; Harry was too weak with exhaustion to even help save himself.

AUTEC Fire and Rescue, made sure everything and everyone was safe. They checked Gary Kingsley and company, made sure Logan could make it back to his boat after such a grueling ordeal. Gary Kingsley swung by too to make sure Logan and everyone who had helped out in his boat were set and then departed to garnish some medical attention for Harry.

Does this story have a happy ending? It does. Logan and company made it safely back. Harry got checked out and is doing fine at home in Davis Creek. The others who responded from AUTEC returned to port with a real life adventure and drama to relate. AUTEC Fire and Rescue went back to being on call and alert to respond in an instant’s notice. AUTEC Marine department continued to monitor the marine traffic and radio. Harry’s boat and most of his equipment was recovered.

And what my husband would call another day in paradise proved to be another opportunity for Logan and Lana and Barbara and Chris and Dan and Gary and Lisa and the rest of the AUTEC family to excel – and they did. 

Tiger and Sergio

At the TPC (The Players Championship) in Jacksonville, Florida, on a beautiful day in the middle of May, Sergio flubbed a shot and blamed it on Tiger. Of course Tiger wasn't swinging Sergio’s club but in this day and age it seems like it is always easier to blame somebody else rather than take responsibility for a poor swing. This blame game goes on at my house and in a lot of other places too, right on up to politics. Mr. Nobody left my bike out, left the lights or TV on, didn’t pick up the towel in the bathroom. Still, back to the TPC, I found it difficult to blame Tiger for noise that the crowd made, but Sergio seemed to think Tiger was to blame for that too. The fans were out there enjoying the day, and it is because they follow these golfers that they were there, thus generating a bunch of income for the TPC charities and players. Nevertheless, as a result of the recent “rift,” or call it what it seemed more like to me, playground dispute, Tiger and Sergio will be partnered up with others and not walking the greens together any more for this tournament at least.  Interestingly enough, they were both tied for first with another guy named Dave (David Lingmerth-a rookie), at ten under last I heard. May the best player win. Go Dave!

*Blogger’s Note: I wrote the above before the actual end of the tournament so I’ll add that despite my rooting for the underdog, Dave tied for second but gave Tiger a very good run. Sergio fell back and last I heard got over his tiff with Tiger with no hard feelings. Yep, just like on the playground. Boys will be boys, I guess. 

Mom’s the Word

It’s one of the first words you probably learned to say. It was the first word for me and here are two things I’d like to share about my mother.

First, my Mom always painted pictures with mercurochrome on all my scrapes. Alligators were my favorites and she would blow on the picture to make it dry fast. Alligators (and my Mom) always made my boo-boos feel better.

Second, she loved to dance and even though she might not have had what most would consider the best moves that never stopped her. She never passed up an opportunity to dance.

Wishing her and all others a Happy Mother’s Day. Let them know they are loved because today, Mom’s the word!

White Nose Syndrome

Holy Smokes, Batman! Bats have new nemesis, a disease called White Nose Syndrome (WNS), that is moving south after first being found in Gotham City, AKA New York, in 2006. The threat is serious and has a lot of bat fans worried as it could cause a calamitous change to the food chain if it decimates the millions of bats we have here (in Georgia). Bats play an important role in the success of large scale agriculture, backyard gardens, and even outdoor dinner parties, by often eating as much as half of their body weight in insects each night. WSN is basically a fungal infection in the soil that leaves the bats with a white residue on their noses and is feared to be able to cause possible the extinction of bats, so I’ll add Holy Extinction, Batman! here for emphasis. It has killed more than 5 million bats so far and has already spread through 22 states and five Canadian provinces and though it is not yet widespread in Georgia, it has been found in north Georgia’s Cloudland Canyon. The disease does its greatest damage in the winter months by disturbing the bats’ hibernation cycle and sending them out to feed when since there aren't insects (their main food source) available, the bats starve to death. Hopefully if the winter weather is mild enough (certainly the case in south GA this year-I remember complaining about gnats in February) there will be enough insects out and about to sustain the bats awakened early. In the meantime, I hope biologists soon get a handle on this disease and figure out a way to neutralize its damaging affects before it is too late the rest of the bats.

Lovebugs

What’s not to love about lovebugs? Everything! My car was plastered with their dead bodies after my trip to St. Pete and back. I haven’t seen many here yet but the Ocala area was swarming with them so it won’t be long until we are inundated with them up here too. They can be found throughout the states that border the Gulf of Mexico and as far north as the Carolinas. They even have their own urban legend involving them being genetically engineered by the University of Florida for the purpose of eating mosquitoes. Sorry believers, it isn’t true. The University of Florida is all about the Gators, not lovebugs! Lovebugs have no natural predators, unless you count my car and they’re hard to clean off the car too. They drift along twice a year and obviously when they’re looking for love in all the wrong places, especially on the grill and windshield of my car. They eat dead vegetation (think grass thatch) while they are still in the larval stage. And each female lovebug lays between 100 and 350 eggs. The good news is they don’t sting so if you have a preschooler that isn’t squeamish about bugs lovebugs are the perfect bugs for them. Just don’t be surprised if they catch you swinging at a swarm, muttering some unkind words, and ask you why you don’t like them. After all they are just lovebugs. 

Keep Calm and Carry On

A lot of variation memes on this theme are easily found on the internet but I read an interesting article about its origin. The words, Keep Calm, British Crown logo, and Carry On, on a vintage red poster, started their life as World War II propaganda. The long forgotten poster was rediscovered thirteen years ago tucked into a box of books sold at an auction in England and hung up in by the cash register in a secondhand bookshop located in a vacant Victorian train station in the far north of England. The book store owner started making and selling copies after receiving a bunch of positive comments and requests and all was well, calm and carrying on until another enterprising Englishman trademarked the saying. He now controls the intellectual rights to the five little words and is using them exclusively for his own line of products. The feud that has arisen over this pithy piece of advice has not stopped the cultural phenomenon from inspiring millions of imitators.

That’s why I say all I have left to say here is Keep calm and read my blog… J

Support and Caring in St. Pete, No Surprise

A not so pleasant surprise for Stellie Bellies, St. Pete’s premier Kiddie & Maternity Resale Boutique, prompted my most recent visit to the place where I believe in the city’s motto and thus planned to Be Prepared to Be Pleasantly Surprised. The unpleasant surprise I found was that a fire in the insurance place next door caused severe smoke and soot damage to Stellie Bellies. Yet as a testament to their positive attitude in the face of disaster, a banner hangs above Stellie Bellies’ open doors proclaiming, Fire Won’t Get Us Down! And the Stellie Bellies’ family and friends have pulled together to exemplify just that. While the interior restorations begin, there’s been an epic sale going on in the parking lot in front of their Fourth Street location. Fair weather and following sales have prevailed and continue to do so, which can only be an omen of good things to come in the next couple of weeks as preparations are made for Stellie Bellies Fourth Street location’s Grand Reopening. The preparations are well underway, with a lot of behind the scenes action occurring simultaneously along with the epic outdoor sale, and two other local businesses have joined the effort. It is times like these when St. Pete truly lives up to its motto and the motto fits. Two local restaurants, California Ciccio’s (they do something remarkably delish with chicken on pizza) and West Shore Pizza (the spinach and tomato sauce-less pizza was my fave) have pledged to provide lunch at no cost for the friends, family, and volunteer workers until Stellie Bellies is ready to rise from the smoke, soot, and ashes anew. It’s refreshing to know there are other fellow business people in St. Pete willing to reach out and provide encouragement and sustenance when others, in this case Stellie Bellies, need it the most. This and the support of a loyal cadre of customers is just a small example of why St. Pete is such a wonderful, caring community. For more updates on their progress connect with Stellie Bellies on Face Book or check them out at www.stelliebellies.com.

Oh Rats!

Three things about rats….

First, in New York rat hunting is a sport. The hunting ground is a dim, grimy alley in lower Manhattan where a bunch of dogs go pawing through mounds of garbage in search of rats at their owners’ behest. The group’s organizers claim that sending the dogs scrambling after vermin is viable exercise for the animal’s centuries-old skills, think fox hunting, and they have been doing it for the last ten years. The dogs work together and they do catch and kill rats although there is no official estimate of how many they have rid the city of. The Health Department declined to comment on the hunts.

Next, in China there has been a crackdown on a ring of meat suppliers that are claiming they are selling lamb but instead selling rat meat. I've blogged in the past about horsemeat for human consumption but that doesn't begin to compare to the idea of rat meat for human consumption. My husband and I plan to take a trip to China some day and I think we will be going vegetarian when we do.

Finally, I share one of my own experiences with rats in my chicken coop.  The so called coop that is home to our half a dozen hens is really a large plastic storage shed tall enough for me to stand in with a set of double doors that almost span the front of the shed. When the weather isn't cold I never close those doors but instead let the girls roam free. The perk for me is that I don’t have to get up with the sun the following morning to let the girls out. One night the thermometer was below the 40 degree mark and the doors would need to be closed. In the dark I counted 6 chicken shadows hens huddled on the roost together for warmth. I reached for the galvanized pail that when inverted doubled as a cover for their feeder. I placed it over the feeder and twisted it a little to make sure there was no gap between it and the Rubbermaid floor of the coop. Then I backed out to close the doors. The right door closed easily but the left gathered up leaves and pine needles as it swept to where the doors met in the middle. There was a gap but I pushed and turned the handle secure the door even with the gap. The girls had already been out long after dark in the cold so rather than kick the detritus out of the way I did a poor job of closing the doors. I was tired and my next stop was to be my bed. So I turned from the coop to make my way back to the house when a pounding and trembling began against inside of the coop doors. I turned and stood stunned thinking it seemed like I might have closed an unseen person up in the coop who was now trying desperately to escape. Then just as quickly as that thought popped into my head, a pair of rats squeezed out from the gap in the mostly closed doors. The two rats big as squirrels raced up and across the coop roof jumping nimbly to an overhanging horizontal oak limb where they continued to race into the darkness of the night canopy. By the time I was able to move they’d disappeared into the darkness.

I managed to trap the rats over the weeks that followed. And to his credit, my dog, Fred a rat terrier mix, managed to kill one in a late evening foray. I also moved the chicken feeder out of the coop and ended my practice of scattering chicken scratch on the ground.

Oh rats! You are not my favorite animals. 

Random Acts of Kindness Update

Every time I write these updates I somehow find myself falling behind my own schedule of performing random acts of kindness and I always feel compelled to admit it. Despite this, it is my observation that there are random acts of kindness going on and in this post I intend to highlight the ripple effect that random acts of kindness (performed by others more consistent than I) have and my experiences as such. Anyway it’s been awhile since my last update and I have been the benefactor of multiple random acts, the latest one I will mention here occurred on Sunday. The day of the week is significant because I figure Sundays are probably pretty slow days for waitresses at the Wee Pub, yet a waitress there was very kind to me.

Because of the fact that the last three days, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, of continuous rain felt like 40 days and 40 nights to me, I finally felt compelled by the lack of clothesline drying sunshine (and a looming shortage of clean underwear) to take my washed clothes to the laundromat. Six minute dryer intervals cost 25 cents. I put a dollar in the change machine since I only had one quarter (and I knew 6 minutes wouldn't cut it) and nothing happened. The money went in but no quarters came out. I proceeded to push all manner of buttons on the machine and still nothing. The machine took the only one dollar bill I had. Disgustedly, I went out the door and saw a waitress cleaning the outside tables at Wee Pub and asked her if she had change that included quarters since the laundry change machine took my dollar. All I was left with was two twenties, a dime and two pennies. She had 4 quarters but not enough to make change for a twenty so she just gave me the quarters. Pretty nice gesture if you ask me, and I hope her kindness returns to her many times because I figure she can’t be making much in tips or wages on any given Sunday at a Wee Pub in St. Marys, (the deep south) Georgia. I had the presence of mind to ask her name as she went back to the tables and I went back to the laundry. Her name is Sarah and if you would like to return an act of kindness and you frequent the Wee Pub, I would ask you to give her a little extra when you tip. They have pretty good daily lunch specials there, and I plan to try the fish tacos and thank Sarah and repay her act of kindness later this week. 

Cinco de Mayo, a Poem

Uno, dos, come in close, 

it’s almost time to raise a toast.

Dos, tres, is this the place? 

With a splash of lime, post haste!

Tres, cuatro, time to go, 

to celebrate today we know,

Cuatro, Cinco, for Mexico, 

today's the day we raise a drinko!

Happy Independence Day, Mayo de Cinco!

Second-Hand Digital Deals

Second-hand stuff, there’s a lot of it out there to be had at a good price. Second-hand dealing goes way back but when I think of second-hand stuff I think of the used car market and how when you consider the “drive off the lot” value depreciation of a new car, coupled with getting an almost as good as a new car warranty with the “certified” used car, I think buying second-hand often makes good cents sense. Then there are bunches of booming resale retail ventures that come to mind like Plato’s Closet that resells high end, gently used brand name clothing originally from places (in the mall) like Abercrombie & Fitch, or similarly, baby and maternity resale like Stellie Bellies in St. Petersburg and Palm Harbor, Florida. Consignment has come a long way. There are also several resale groups in my area, and I suspect many other areas, connected to Face Book. I am included in a bunch of these groups and the rules are pretty simple. You take photos to post your items and potential shoppers peruse them that way. And don’t let me forget old school garage and yard sales and the old adage that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure or according to Macklemore of Thrift Shop fame, another man’s come-up.

But finally to the topic at hand, digital resale, it’s already popular in Europe. Amazon is considering getting into it. Since 2011 a company in Boston, ReDigi, has been offering second-hand digital songs for as little as 49 cents vs. the 99 cents you would pay for new to ITunes. ReDigi’s second-hand market place has even grown into a social network as some customers like seeing who has previously listened to the songs they buy. With the popularity of social media and Amazon behind it I think the market for second-hand digital stuff is poised for even greater success. Some others in the industry must think so too because some, like Microsoft’s newest Xbox, are expected not to work with second-hand games.

The Poop on Trucking in Dubai

I have two friends with truck driving experience, one retired due to health issues directly related to the job and the other soon to be exchanging the life of a trucker for island life in the Bahamas, and I wondered what their take would be on this stuff I read about trucking poop in Dubai. Here goes.

In Dubai, particularly, but also in India and other places (not the US), there are high rising skyscrapers, sometimes 140 to 150 stories tall, that are not connected to any municipal infrastructure, and by this I mean no sewer system. In this country that we assume we can plug into an urban system that can handle whatever waste the populace of the building produces and we do. Apparently in these fast growing, and even faster modernizing cities, using the most sophisticated architects and engineers in the world, you can design and build a building of 140 or 150 stories, but designing and building a municipal network of sewage treatment to support that building is more complex? Hopefully that question mark indicates how puzzling this seems to me. Maybe they have the wrong architects and engineers or the planners are just superficial, but it seems pretty surprising to me that one would design superstructures without infrastructure. So in Dubai, what do they do with the sewage? They use trucks to take it out of individual buildings and then they wait in line, often for 24 hours at a time, to take a dump their load into a waste water treatment plant.

So I asked my two friends about this and here is what they said:

First my Bahama bound, soon to no longer be a truck driver, friend referred me to a video clip on You Tube, a documentary about West African Truckers that highlights the disparities between the trucking industry here and trucking in third world countries where drivers spend days, weeks, and sometimes months dealing with corrupt border officials and illegal checkpoints on delivery trips. Though this info wasn't specifically about poop trucking it did bring home the lack of regulation, and what many in this country would find unacceptable, is an accepted norm in third world countries. Basically what I think is crazy, trucking poop from skyscrapers, is pretty common place in, not only Dubai, but also in lots of other places and is one more indicator of how good we have it in this country.  

Next, I quote my retired truck driving friend and these are his thoughts about poop trucking and waiting in line for 24 hours to unload, Here trucks that remove and deliver sewage from septic tanks to treatment plants are called honey dippers, but I don’t know what they would call them there. Sounds like a (expletive deleted but you can guess what went here) job from start to finish. Line that slow, seems like they could use a laxative or an enema.

Enough said.

Tie a String Around the Moon

When lovers profess they want to give each other the moon, I don’t think they are thinking moons over my hammy or the moon that’s out early tonight (as my grandson would say about the latter and all observable plumber’s cracks, crack kills). It’s more like telling your precious one that you love them to the moon and back, a really grand gesture to show the immensity of your love.

Well the title of this post is a bit misleading because what I really wanted to write about is a plan some scientists and engineers have to establish a base on the moon and from this base, a mining camp of sorts, lasso an asteroid (one of those we hear is coming closer and threatening to crash into us and cause our extinction, yada, yada..) and yep, you guessed it, they want to mine it. As I read recently in an article in a New Scientist magazine, the motivation for space travel is shifting from one of discovery to one of economics, and by this I mean the for-profit exploitation, rather than exploration, of space. There are a lot pros and cons to consider and they seem to center around the idea of whether or not it is ethical to save our pristine planet’s resources at the expense of the resources from what we consider desolate places like asteroids and the moon. Despite these arguments there are others that are not waiting for answers or regulations. It seems pretty obvious that this movement has already ready started and has prompted some to ask, Is space mining the next gold rush? Of course the technology for such enterprises is pretty much out of this world, and by that I mean the stuff we use here for such operations isn't exactly suitable for the conditions in space. This is where innovation exceeds my imagination. 

Space mining, seems to me to be a grand gesture that shows the immensity of human greed on one hand and ingenuity on the other.

Mucophagy

Last night I disgust discussed the idea of writing about this topic with my husband on SKYPE as I often do. I figured I’d get some positive input on this one because after all it was his idea that led me to write about the snot-eating bone-flower worm but in the case of mucophagy, an endorsement from him was snot happening. He even went so far as to say that if I picked this topic I would snot be picking a winner. All this from someone who admittedly nose nothing about mucophagy and when I mentioned the very word answered with “Huh?”

At the time of this discussion on SKYPE,

[4/30/2013 9:51 PM] Jo Mount: I don't have anything written for my blog tomorrow so I will be getting up and getting busy with that in the morning.

I hadn’t actually done any research on the word mucophagy so this morning I figured I’d Google it. I found that like most words mucophagy has more than one meaning.

In the first part of the definition I found out that mucophagy is the feeding on mucus of fishes or invertebrates. And that there are mucophagous parasites, such as sea lice that attach themselves to gill segments of fish. This immediately made me think of the bone-eating snot-flower worm that also lives under the sea. Also, mucophages may serve as cleaners of other animals. Remoras attaching themselves to sharks (like the one that took a bite out of Captain Jim’s boat in a previous post came to mind also).

Then I read the second part of the definition: It may also refer to consumption of mucus or dried mucus in primates.

Here is when I suddenly remembered that I hadn't had breakfast yet and in fact if I read any further I might snot be able to stomach any this morning. Already after just my morning cup of coffee I was feeling a bit queasy. Dang Skippy, it’s really snot that hard to admit this, but maybe I should have listened to my husband and picked a different topic after all.