In case my tortoises and turtles weren't doing it for you, I'd like to share with you the furry curve-ball nature threw us the other day...
I was sitting at my kitchen table working on the laptop, and my husband was standing between me and the glass slider door, which is about three feet away from me, when I heard him say, "Aim..."
At that same time I felt a presence...something moving near Mike's feet that wasn't Mike's feet.
It was a cat.
My mother called me a "turtle magnet" because after bombarding her with pictures of Shelby, who lives in my backyard (though granted, Shelby is a tortoise...) I bumped into this mama green turtle heading back to sea after dropping her egg-shaped kids off.
I took videos both landscape and portrait below so you can watch her drag herself back to the ocean. Sometimes I complain because my husband likes to start walking at first light and I'm usually trying to work then, but now I see the advantage of going to the beach early! Jupiter has been having a nearly record-breaking year for turtle nests (green, loggerhead and leatherback) -- we're looking forward to Aug-Oct. when the babies will start marching after their mamas!
I'm currently working on the fifth Kilty book... but Pineapple Port (who I was kind enough to write two in a row for...) is acting like a jealous lover. First of all, I moved to a neighborhood with an HOA, and one of the few approved lights is this one:
How could I not get it?
Remember my new friend Shelby? We watched Shelby plod away, exit stage left, yesterday... and then saw her reappearing stage right... That's when I realized the new creature wasn't Shelby, but another gopher turtle headed towards Shelby's house as fast as her little scaly legs could carry her. Drama! She crawled right into Shelby's hole as if she'd been lurking in the underbrush, watching, waiting for her to leave. Shelby was spotted later munching away on the greenery...I don't know what happened when she went home and found that vixen in her cave.
But he doesn't look happy, does she?
I'm in Jupiter, Florida!
#JupUp? (<--- this is a saying my husband thinks he's going to coin/popularize while he's down here. *eyeroll*)
Desperate to get away from the constant cleaning and scurrying away/hiding that comes with showing a house for sale, we packed up and officially moved to our new house in Jupiter, Florida. This is us in our empty house moments after we walked in after a 14 hour drive from Maryland - so we look smiley, but really we're about to collapse. It's our reflection in the 1980's wall-to-wall mirror that we need to have torn off the wall...and I'm showing my lack of selfie skills staring at the camera that is in front of my face but...eh.
I should have known better. I used local Ebay once before and the guy showed up to pick-up my enormous bureau, alone, with one arm. He weighed about seventy pounds soaking wet (it might have been eighty before the arm went missing). I mean, sorry about the wing clipping, but maybe give me a heads-up to have someone around or bring a friend? Instead, I dug deep for Hulk strength to help him get it in his truck.
I grew up on the beach and never thought twice about getting into the water as a kid. I was East Coast Editor of SURFER Magazine, and never hesitated to catch some tasty waves, dude. Then I moved farther inland for about twenty years and rarely found myself near an ocean.
And apparently, I left my nerve somewhere back on that last beach.
Because here I am again, living by the ocean thinking --- I can go swimming! Commune with nature!
My own baby, Gordon Labradoodle, passed away Dec. 6, 2017, which I never mentioned because I'm still a disaster over losing him. So, for over a year now, I've been getting my dog-fix by smothering every random pooch I pass with kisses, my voice rising to squeaky levels I think maybe only dogs can hear. (We're going to get a new baby, but at first, it was just too hard and now we've been in transition planning our move to Florida so we're holding off a bit.)
My realtor and now bestest-buddy here in Florida, Jill Geraci has helped me ease my dog-jonesing by letting me babysit her hamster, Harley. (She says it's a dog but I don't believe it.) Harley is about one full pound of adorable though. She's like a mini-Muppet came to life!
Pineapple Port, the 55+ community featured in my Pineapple Port Mysteries is a real place with a different name and I spent Christmas there this year with my mother-in-law (aka Mariska). Yesterday we drove around the community to check out the decorations, because, what's more Christmassy than that?! I thought I'd let you see what we saw, especially since I'm pretty sure I'll end up with a scene in a book where Charlotte is checking out Pineapple Port's decorations, and now you'll REALLY be able to picture them. :)
Mmm. Yum. I don't know if it will eat me before I eat it.
I've failed making bread two out of three times now. Seems you never really run out of ways to kill yeast. The first time I used too hot milk, and sent them screaming to their little yeasty deaths.
The second time I let the loaf prove too long thinking it would make it bigger. Instead, the yeasts didn't find the energy to do a second rise in the oven and I ended up with a loaf dense enough to use as a flak jacket. I hate wasting things, so I did my best to eat it as toast, cut thin enough to see through, but ultimately gave up and chucked it.