Tag Archives: South

Change is in the Air

Nothing ever changes for the better
Walter Mattau, Grumpier Old Men

Which includes, the seasons sometimes. The current season, Summer… it’s starting to wilt pretty badly.

The end is nigh. I can see it coming. Like a train in tunnel.

I’m in the last two days of my two week vacation. Two weeks of bachelor living while the family has been working in Hawaii. True, I’ve been working at my usual vocation, but they’ve been working on interpersonal relationships, and “close” living. I’ll take the office over that any day, especially given that I’ve come home every night to a quiet empty house. Fact is I only left the house twice to run errands for Mrs S.

I think I’d be perfectly happy observing the world from behind my windows. Too bad I consume so much shit and have such exquisite taste in cameras and computer equipment. But even there Amazon.com. Try to keep to a box a week.

I haven’t been as good a bachelor this time around as I have been in previous years. For most of the last two weeks my dinners have alternated between a bagel and peanut butter, a bagel and cream cheese, a bagel and Laughing Cow Cheese and then a bowl of Malt-O-Meal Faux Cheerio’s. I ran out of bagels.

I had a house guest one night, the brother of the bride for this weekends affair. I picked him up at the airport and he stayed at my place, given the hour that he arrived (1:00am) and the time we wanted leave (8:00am) didn’t make sense to take him home.

I made coffee in the morning and as he reached for the milk in the fridge.. the two fingers of milk left at the bottom of a gallon jug. The same jug that Mrs S and the little S’s used for their cereal right before they got in the car about a fortnight ago to go to the airport,  I had to suggest to the lad, much like Walter Mattau would, “you might want to smell that…”.  Been in there a while.

I’m kinda outta of uh.. well I’m out of food. Kind of general statement, but pretty accurate. Unless you want tomato paste or canned olives, your outta luck around here.

BTW, the only thing in the fridge; said milk, 8 bottles of coconut life water (love that stuff), a quivering mass of red liquid that used to be a tomato at one time, the remnants of it’s skin the only clue to it’s former life, a bowl with saran wrap covering something brown and green that I think is last weekend guac that no one ate, I’ll be depositing the entire bowl and contents into the trash soon,  a pile of Greek yogurt, and about 6 packs of shredded mexican cheese, all of them open and all of them missing several handfuls of content. Seems I open one before I look for another. I make quesadillas sort of alot. Tortilla, handful of cheese, and hot cast iron.  Haven’t had one in while though, ran out of tortillas about a week ago.

Other than that, not much else consumable around here. Even the butter was gone thanks to the dog swallowing a stick when it fell out of the holder last week. I didn’t notice until it was too late, about 11 nanoseconds is too late in that situation. He moves pretty darned fast when motivated by dairy products.

Piles of Stuff

One nice thing about living alone, stuff remains exactly where you put it. This is great when it comes to keys and wallets and leatherman tools. This is especially great when the place you leave it is the kitchen table. Nice to be surrounded by familiar things when you’re eating breakfast. Like the last 10 days of the newspaper. Mostly still in the original plastic bag. This is not so great when it comes to stuff like laundry. There’s no one here to pick up the clothes, wash them, and put them back in my drawers. I’ll have to ask Mrs S how that happens when she gets back.  Yeah, this blissful carefree lifestyle is fast coming to an end. Gang gets back Tuesday, but only for a while.

Going South

 

Come on baby drive South, with the one you love.
Windows open on the rest of the of the world, all the way to Dixieland
- John Hiatt

Thursday Team Sank-a-Ray pile in the car and following the lead of America’s least appreciated, and probably worst paid, great songwriter, John Hiatt we’re heading south.

Two days of driving to get us to the Great State of Alabama- my middle kid’s new home away from home. No fucking Kentucky weak ass transitional southern experience for him, no Texas like western south either, nope. M’boy is going deep into the heart of Dixie. Alabama boys. Auburn University here he comes. Lest you forget where we are, Auburn’s old union was a Confederate hospital back in the day.

And there he’ll stay, in the hands of the fine folks at Auburn University. Whirlwind trip for us, 36 hour driving for 36 hours on the ground.

Since I haven’t taken a vacation this summer I was thinking we were going to be there a week or so, maybe go to the Gulf. Well no luck. This summer at the office is the summer of no vacation, I can’t figure out how to get away more than a few days here and there and the gang coming back from Hawaii’s beaches don’t want to go to Alabama’s beaches for some reason.

And finally, the real issue… Auburn sent us a very nice invitation to a breakfast for the entire family on Sunday morning. A Good BYE and we mean it breakfast. I counted three places in 6 lines of verbiage where they essentially say, but in a nice way, GET LOST. Since it is Alabama I’m pretty sure they can shoot parents for less than helicoptering so.. we’re gone.

Going North

Oh, every year hath it’s winter
And every year hath it’s rain

But the day is always coming
When the birds go north again
- Ella Higginson

And before you know it, the oldest bird heads north, really far north. He’ll be spending the next 4 months way up in the northern environs of British Columbia where he’ll be part of a team of Canadian and British researchers evaluating ground water and it’s impact on salmon populations. Now, the Horsefly River doesn’t sound like a place I want to go, but looking at the pictures online of some of the fish the folks at the lodges up there are catching I’m inclined to be impressed. Nice to see him doing something he loves. Not as nice to know he wants to leave 3 weeks early. I’ve heard he wants to go back to Houghton when he gets home from taking his Brother to Auburn. He really wants to see Auburn. He also wants to go home, which isn’t where home once was for him.

“why?” I asked my wife, “would he want to go back up there.. he’s always complaining that it’s kind of slow.” She responded “Used to be slow, I think it’s not as slow now, he’s got someone to do things with these days and he, might be a she.”

Minor tectonic adjustment needed in my world.

*sigh*. “But I’ve seen him for three days summer” I started to complain, and I caught myself. Screw it, I don’t want to be the buzzkill on this deal. One going North, one going South and one still to young to decide. Summer 12 moves to Autumn and change is afoot.

I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes

Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time
- David Bowie

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Settling In Southern Style

I may have to quit blogging. This vacation has been a model of smoothicity, everything has gone exactly to plan, kids have behaved, I’ve behaved, Mrs S hasn’t had much to worry about.. I come on these trips for blog content and after this one, I have none. I find this disturbing.

No more disturbing that learning that most of the folks here have read or are current readers of this space. Hi y’all.

Sunny Floridian beaches are probably not the best vacation destinations for folks who have had melanoma’s removed from them, and as one such person I’ve tried to avoid the sun as much as possible. This means a lot of sitting in a condo while kids and spouses play in the surf and at the pool. This situation would be a lot better if I had internet access, with out it, the days can become a tad tedious, and in that tedium I start to hear the meter tick on my precious vacation time. After this trip I’ll be down below 200 hours for the first time in a while and for some reason it makes me uptight to think that I’ve been whiling away hard-earned hours checking email, working on newsletters and behaving an awful lot like I’m still back in Minnesota on my sofa.

I just don’t vacation very well.

The resort down here is really quite something. It’s set on a barrier island deep in a live oak forest complete with Spanish moss hanging from the trees and lots of hot sweaty weather. It has the usual resort mode golf cart transportation systems, bike paths and jogging paths, and lots of folks who are here to get me things. Should I ask that is.

The roads and paths snake all over this part of the island and I’m afraid in some ways this trip has been a preview of my future, that future where I wander around confused. I’ve been here four days and so far I’m only confident in finding the can and the liquor store. The resort area is a complicated set of paths, boardwalks and roundabouts, and while I like roundabouts generally, here’s they’re confusing me as they all kinda look the same; to get from our condo to the resort exit for example, involves three roundabouts, with three different exits, a route I’m unable to reverse.

Then again I’m on vacation so who cares if I ever get to where I think I’m going. I’m perfectly happy to go on an unscheduled tour of the country side.

GPS BTW, useless around here, none of the roads are showing up on the thing.

Evening family activities have been fantastic. Dinner on the ocean was a favorite of mine so far. The food was red beans and rice, catfish, BBQ chicken, potato salad, a Southern Cooking if you will. We’re only a couple hours from Paula Dean’s place, so it’s apropos. Apropos and delicious. Heh.

I’ve also managed to sneak in some grits for breakfast, also quite tasty.

But honestly, the coup de gras was the mango I picked up at a roadside stand on the way home from Starbucks. Hands down, no exception, it was the best mango I’ve ever eaten in my life. It was also the biggest mango I’ve ever eaten in my life, double plus good.

Tomorrow the road show packs up and heads further south, into the deepest darkest reaches of Central Florida to hit the Disney properties. We’re going to attempt to do Disney World and Epcot in two days. Based on my level of engagement and corresponding ADD I have no doubts that it can be accomplished. I don’t need to ride anything, I can watch from afar, and for most attractions, really don’t need anything more than a drive by view.

I am going to make a plea that we stop at an alligator oriented attraction on the road between here and Orlando. I’ve been watching a Swamp People marathon and seems appropriate that I see some of the big lizards in the hoof as they say.

Wednesday Nate and I fly back to the Twin Cities while Mrs S and the rest of the brood begin the three day road back home, they’re expected back in Minnesota sometime Friday evening and then, with fond farewell the summer of ’11 is about over. Nate goes back to school the third week in August, I’m back in the office on Thursday, and the family will be demanding food and care starting Saturday.

Which BTW, our neighborhood block party thing is Saturday night. I was hoping to miss it to get up to the lake to mow and decompress after this trip. Believe it or not doing nothing and socializing takes a lot out of me. I’ve been told that I will not be going to lake, I’ll be attending the block party and a swim party and there is no more discussion.

It’ll be good to be home.

Kinda.

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