Lemonade

 Lemonade

I’ve long embraced the saying, “When life hands you a lemon, make lemonade.”

It’s a perspective. A way of taking something difficult or unexpected and turning it into something good. 

There are many examples in the Bible. For instance, jealousy drove Joseph’s brothers to beat him up, steal his coat, throw him in a pit, then sell him into slavery, but God later used Joseph to save his family from famine. Long story, but if you want the details, read Genesis in the Old Testament of the Bible. The Bible is full of such examples, the ultimate being the crucifixion of Jesus. Jesus had to die so we can live. 

There are modern day examples of “if that hadn’t happened…I wouldn’t be here.” 

But this blog post isn’t really about those types of events. It’s actually about…well…lemonade.

This is the Pure Lemon Juice,
Lemons, and Nifty Juicer.
Cool, Huh?

When Mike and I moved to our home in Citrus County, we inherited a couple of fruit trees. We’ve enjoyed fresh picked grapefruit at breakfast several mornings. Though we think of them as yellow, grapefruit are generally ripe when they just start to turn a bit yellow… while they are still mostly green. They’ve been a tasty treat for us and a good source of vitamin C.

This week, Mike handed me a lemon. Actually, he carried in a bucket of lemons he picked from our lemon tree. I didn’t have a juicer but found a handy dandy one at the grocery store. 

Fresh squeezed lemonade. There is something fulfilling about harvesting a crop and feeding your family. In my past I’ve grown tomatoes and canned them, picked berries and made jelly. I’ve made pickles out of cucumbers I harvested from a backyard garden. But that was all in the past. 

This week, I squeezed a full jar of lemon juice. Enough to quench the thirst of a large crowd…or two people who happen to love lemonade as well as a refreshing glass of lemonade mixed with tea, known as an Arnold Palmer.

Here’s the recipe I use:

Lemonade:
1) Gently cook one cup of water with one cup of sugar, stirring until the sugar is dissolved.

2) Slightly cool the syrupy mixture and add 1-2 cups of lemon juice. (We like about 1½ Cups. You know, lemony but not too tart.) 

3) Stir.

4) Add five (5) more cups of water. Stir and chill. 

Enjoy! And if you have lemon to lemonade life stories…please share!

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Mixed Bag of Tricks

 October is A Mixed Bag of Tricks

No. This is not a Halloween Post. I’m not a big fan of Halloween. So the bag I’m opening this October isn’t filled with candy.

First in the bag is JOY:

My second daughter, Danielle, was born in the month of October. October 26^th to be exact. We lived in Florida. The weather was perfect. Our daughter, Allison, was 4 ½ at the time. We were excited to welcome a new member to the family. 

This one was due in November but arrived a bit early. We called her “our yellow rose.” The moniker came from the fact we had a rose ready to bloom any day. I told Tom, “The day that rose blooms is the day I’m going to have the baby.” It opened in full bloom the morning of October 26^th. A few hours later, we held Danielle in our arms.

I was blessed with three beautiful little girls who have turned into three beautiful women. All wives and mothers now. That is, for me, pure JOY.

This Yellow Rose Bloomed 
This October in Ohio
Happy Birthday, D!

Second in the October bag is the opposite of joy. It is SORROW. 

On October 29, 2014, my husband of almost forty-three years, left the house for his daily bike ride. He rode for exercise. He rode to keep his heart healthy. He rode because he enjoyed it. He hadn’t been gone long when I received the call that he had an accident. His bike went off the pavement and threw him into a tree. I was there in minutes. So were the paramedics. But two hours later, Tom was pronounced dead at the hospital. That can only be described as sorrow. Deep SORROW.

It is hard to imagine it has been ten years now. 

In that ten years… I traveled to India with my daughter to work with young women rescued from human trafficking. I moved to into a new house. I moved to Kosovo for a year to teach fourth grade. I saw my second novel, Libby’s Cuppa Joe published, helped organize a writing conference, and welcomed grandchild number eight into the world. 

And I remarried. Mike Tyler is a wonderful man. Recently, he and I traveled from our home in Florida to visit my mother and our family in Ohio. He loves my family. And they love him. He and Tom were friends. We speak easily of Tom as we also speak easily of his late wife, Betty. 

So what will I pull out of the bag now?  The third item is CONTENTMENT

Contentment is a state of happiness and satisfaction. That is where Mike and I are now. We are content. We are happy and find ourselves satisfied with life.

It is October. We left the warm weather of Florida expecting cooler temperatures and falling leaves as we headed to Ohio. But the weather in the Cincinnati area was like summer. In fact, my grandson, Spencer, arrived at my mother’s house in Ohio to mow her lawn.

Then…after church on Sunday, we met some of the family for lunch. Driving back into our neighborhood in Ohio, we noticed the trees had seemingly changed overnight. I took a picture. The grass is as green as ever, but the trees are yellow and red and orange. So beautiful. 

The changing of the seasons reminds me how life is ever-changing. Each season of life offers something new. We can weather the storms of life because of the promise of tomorrow. 

Like I said, “October is a mixed bag of tricks.”

"I'll Pray for You"

 “I’ll Pray For You”

Ever say those words? When someone shares something about a decision to be made, a problem, an illness, or a worry over a family member, I often utter those words, “I’ll pray for you.” 

We say the words, but do we follow through? 

I think sometimes we use the words as a message of comfort. We may have every intention of praying for the person or the situation, but we walk away and forget until something else happens. 

Through the years I’ve learned enough about myself to make sure “I’ll pray for you” is not an empty promise. Here are five strategies I've found helpful.

1)     Pray then and there. If it is appropriate, take the person’s hand or put your hand on his or her shoulder and pray immediately. If it is not someone you do not know well or it might appear inappropriate to touch, you can still pray for that request immediately. Audible or inaudible…it doesn’t matter. God hears it all.

 

2)     Keep a Prayer Journal. A prayer journal need not be a fancy leather-bound journal, it can be a spiral bound notebook you picked up at the back-to-school sale at Wal-Mart. Write down the date and the request. Pray about it even as you write. And when the prayer is answered? No matter how God chose to resolve it, put that date in as well.

  

3)     Text Yourself a Message. Or send yourself an email. I have a terrible memory. I’ve sent myself an email on Sunday after church and when I open my emails on Monday, I realize I told someone I’d continue to pray over a situation and I’ve already put it out of mind. At least until I open my email. 

 

4)     File the request in an Alphabet Prayer List. For years I’ve mentally filed requests in what I call my Alphabet Prayer. I can mentally go through my list while I’m washing dishes or if I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep. (My grandmother told me if you can’t sleep, pray.) Aside from my family members, I have a few people I continue to keep in that list. Some, I’ve been praying over for better than thirty years. For more on that, I’ll share the link to an earlier post at the end I think you’ll appreciate.

 

5)     “As often as God brings this to my mind.” As I’ve noted, I learned early on that I have a terrible memory. I learned that if someone asks me for prayer, I tell them, “As often as God brings you to mind, I’ll pray.” And He does it. I’ll be in the grocery store, picking out the nicest Sweet Vidalia Onion I can find and a name or need pops into my head. I pray while I pick. I have to be careful, though. I’m at that age where other shoppers likely look over and wonder about “that poor old woman talking to the vegetables.”

There is power in prayer. I serve a living God. Not a statue or an idea. God is real. God loves me. He cares about me and my worries and concerns. He cares about people. He made us, died for us, rose up from the grave for us, and loves us beyond measure.

And...God Listens. He can see the big picture, so when my prayers don’t seem to go the way I would have chosen, I still trust He heard them and answered with what was right. Because even though I ask, like any good Father, sometimes God says, “No.”

And here is the link to the Alphabet Prayer I mentioned above. Enjoy!  https://rebeccaawaters.blogspot.com/2022/09/ready-to-party.html

 

 

Spanish Moss

Spanish Moss

Most people in the southern states know and understand Spanish moss.  Most visitors from the northern states don’t.

When I think of my first visits to Florida as a child, images of Spanish moss swaying in the trees are as strong as my memories of sandy beaches. Maybe stronger. 

Spanish Moss
in the Magnolia Tree

Mike and I were talking about how we used to play with Spanish moss. He and his buddies would stuff a feed sack with it, tie it to rope, hang it from a tree, and make a swing out of it. 

I remember playing dress-up with it, using it as a stole or wig to be a gray headed woman.

We both remember the results of playing with Spanish moss: Redbug bites. And boy would they itch!

Spanish moss was at one time used to stuff furniture and car seats. I hope they cured it properly. I can’t imagine sleeping on a moss stuffed mattress.

When Tom and I were both in college and poor newlyweds, we looked at Spanish moss as an opportunity. The house where we lived sat quietly on a tree covered acre of land. We gathered the moss, picked out all the twigs, stuffed it in plastic bags and let it “cure.” Supposedly, the redbugs would die in a month or so without oxygen. I really don’t know that to be a fact. But that’s what we did.

Tom and I had a couple of florists who occasionally bought the moss from us for a dollar a bag. We’d save the money until we had enough for McDonalds. We called it our eating out money. 

In some ways that feels like a long time ago in a galaxy far away. This month…This year…marks the ten-year anniversary of Tom’s death.

When I married Mike in 2023, I left Ohio and moved back to Florida. His house was surrounded by big oak trees. Each tree wore a garland of Spanish moss. I loved to sit on the porch and watch the moss sway in the southern breeze.

 

Soon, we moved to our own home in Inverness, Florida. A place to build new memories and enjoy life together. We left the Lutz moss behind. No worries. We had plenty of moss at our new house.

Evening.
Moss in the Trees. 
Sunset Over the Water.

As I said, most people in the southern states know and understand Spanish moss.  

Most visitors from the northern states don’t.

Spanish moss is beautiful hanging from the trees. And yes, it is the home to redbugs. But when you have hurricane force winds blow it down, it is a bear to clean up. 

We’ve cleaned up after each storm this season, but Milton’s powerful winds brought down more moss than I had ever seen in our yard before. We raked piles of the stuff. If we cured it as Tom and I did in the old days, Mike and I could eat at McDonalds for weeks. 

I’m glad we’re beyond those days. 

And I know we are blessed. We had moss to contend with along with a few tree limbs. People elsewhere are trying to find their houses. Or what is left of them. We were without power overnight. Some are still living in shelters. The Waters’ family home in Lutz is surrounded by downed trees, including a hundred-year-old cypress tree the storm chose to pick up like a toothpick and spit out into the lake.

But as Mike reminded me, every morning we look out over the lake as we eat breakfast. We watch the moss swaying in the morning breeze, the sun glistening on the water and we are grateful. Grateful to enjoy our little corner of “old Florida.” Spanish moss and all.

 

  

Hurricane Season

 Run From the Water...

Hide From the Wind

Consider this a public service announcement.

I am sitting at my computer watching the news. Florida is in the path of its second major hurricane in three weeks. 

As we watched Hurricane Helene head our way, she looked as if she would merely brush the western coastline of Florida. 

Weather forecasters warned of a “storm surge” …though we had no idea what that would look like. In fact, as the storm was churning, local surfers grabbed their boards to ride the ever-increasing waves. Families gathered to take pictures before finally leaving the area to find shelter in the interior of the peninsula.

Mike and I have friends who live on the Gulf coast. Though their own home was untouched, it was like a war zone around them. The nation gathered around the television to view unimaginable images. We saw houses and furnishings, appliances, and cars floating far from their owners. We watched in horror as entire communities were flattened by the surge. People died. The west coast of Florida looked more like a war zone than a once peaceful string of coastal communities.

THEN…

We were horrified to see Helene blast her way north, ravaging unsuspecting communities in Georgia and Tennessee. Helene carried with her wind, rain, and mudslides unequaled in the memory of mountain communities in the Carolinas. 

Hurricanes are Nothing to Blow Off.

Accuweather Image of Hurricane Milton
at this Writing...

NOW... 

Now we watch as Hurricane Milton crosses the Gulf of Mexico, wreaking havoc along the Mexican costal area and taunting the peninsula of Florida as a Category 4 or 5 Bully of the Sea.

This time, Florida will take a direct hit. Projections of where Milton will throw the first punch vary. We know it will stretch along the Gulf coast and will sustain hurricane force winds across the peninsula to the east coast of Florida. 

Many predict this could be the worst storm in a hundred years. In part because of its power. But also because there are more people in Florida now than ever.

Hurricanes are Nothing to Blow Off.

If you are in an evacuation zone…Evacuate. 

Take with you: medications, cash, ID’s, water, food, flashlight with extra batteries, cell phone and charger, and candy. 

(Okay, you don’t actually need candy, but this has been such a heavy post, I decided to throw something in to make you smile.) 

The bottom line? Stay safe. Pray. Do what you are told to do. 

I know I sound like a mom or teacher.

Actually, I’m both. So do it.

 

 

So You Want to Be a Writer...

On Becoming a Writer

So you want to write a book…

I hear that often.  When people find out I am an author, I will have at least one in the group tell how they have a great idea for a book. Sometimes, someone will insist their life story is so unbelievable, it would be a best seller or a blockbuster movie. 

I try to encourage people. I tell them to go for it! Write it down! I’ve yet to have any of them actually make that happen yet, though.

 I decided if you are one of those with a story burning in your heart, this is a good time for free advice from a published author.  Below are a few tips to get you started.

Photo by Thom Milkovic
Thanks Thom!

1.      Write. Pen and paper?  Computer?  Dictate into a program or your phone? Quill and scroll? It doesn’t matter how you start writing. The number one rule to be a writer is you MUST write. 

 

2.       Read. I am shocked by the number of “wanna-be” writers who do not read. Read the works of authors who write what you hope to write. Learn from them. Read to enjoy the book first, then read it again to analyze how they pulled it together.

 

3.      Write. If you have an idea for a story, put it down on paper or in notes on your phone. Even if it is one sentence or one paragraph…write it down. You can flesh it out later, but it is a frustrating and haunting experience to know you had a great idea but can’t pull it up from your memory.

 

4.      Join a writing group. This can be a local group, a national group, a group that meets online, or all three. Don’t have a group? Start one. My first writing group consisted of three people. These were folks I knew who also expressed an interest in writing. We gathered in my living room. We wrote, shared our musings, asked each other questions, and as we built a sense of trust, we critiqued each other.

 

5.      Write. Grab a spiral bound notebook and write. Or write every day on your computer. Write every day. Even if it is a paragraph in your journal or diary. Write. Even writing a list of ideas will help you exercise your writing muscle.

 

6.      Go to your local library and find a few good books on writing. If you are just starting, some of the books may seem lofty or for English majors. Find one or two books that draw you in, read them, then trade them in for two more. And while you’re at the library, find a book to read for pure enjoyment. Reading is necessary to becoming a writer.

 

7.      Write. “My story is unbelievable. It would be a Hallmark movie.” Really? Don’t tell me about it. Write it down. Writing description and dialogue and scenes take work…not talk.

 

8.      Feeling unsure of yourself? Take a writing course. There are numerous courses offered on-line or at your local community college.

 

9.      One last word of advice…if you want to be a writer…WRITE.

 

10.     And if you want to an author…Publish. Writers Write. Authors Publish. But that’s a whole different blog post…

 

Tooling Around Florida

 Tooling Around Florida: The East Coast

Last year Mike and I bought a Corvette to “tool around in.” We have driven it to a few car shows in town and plan to take it to “Vette Fest” in Old Town (Kissimmee) next month. One of the “tooling around” deals was to drive it to Rainbow River. 

Next, we drove it to parts of Florida I hadn’t experienced. To Chiefland for barbeque, on to Fanning Springs to the Suwannee River then to Cedar Key. Those were great trips. If you missed the posts about them, I’ll include links at the end.

This week we decided to head a different direction. I had visited the Space Center and camped on the east coast of Florida with my family to watch a launch up close, but when Mike heard I had never visited Ron Jon’s Surf Shop, he was determined to fill that gap in my “1970’s girl” education. 

So this past week, we headed east, taking the Florida Turnpike, which starts only a few miles from our house, over to the east coast, then traveled a state highway to Cocoa Beach. The weather was perfect and the Cocoa Beach area, though growing like every other part of the peninsula, still bears the stamp of Florida with the trees, flowers, remnants of old restaurants and motels, and the tourist shops. The weather was picture perfect.

Mike first visited the surf shop when it was a small building near the pier. Of course he was a teenager then.The surf shop has grown some since and he had watched its growth. 

Ron Jons is more than surfboards. Though that inventory is impressive. Jewelry, Yeti mugs, knick-knacks...you name it. It is a clothing store with everything from bathing suits for the sunny, hot days to sweatshirts for the evening chill. Everything.

 

The place was a bit overwhelming. I didn’t know where to begin. (Though we did pick up some very cool Christmas gifts for three of the grandkids.)

 

Mike knew of a great place for lunch near the store called “Twisted Tides”. Though they offer rooftop seating with a full view of the Atlantic Ocean, we opted for the airconditioned inside dining. It was a hot September day. 

The Mahi sandwiches, fries, and sweet tea were great, but the server we had was THE BEST. She was quick to take our order, checked  up on us regularly, and brewed fresh sweet tea to assure we had a full carafe on our table.

After lunch, we took a walk on the beach. 

As Mike reached for my hand, I told him, “Thank you for bringing me here. This has been a perfect day.” 

If you missed our visit to Rainbow River, CLICK HERE.

You’ll find our visit to Chiefland, Fanning Springs, and Cedar Key if you CLICK HERE

One Last Picture & Remember: Surf's Up!

This 12'...150lb. KOA Wood Surfboard
was shaped by Big Wave Rider Greg Nole 
for Ron Jon Founder 
Ron Dimenna