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

Finding a New Dentist Can Be Like Pulling Teeth

 Finding a New Dentist 

Can Be Like Pulling Teeth

Memory of my first dentist is of a cowboy named Webb Davis. We lived in Tucson, Arizona. Webb, that is…Dr. Davis, had a flat tire. That’s how my dad came to know him.

Thinking he was a poor, tired ranch hand, my dad stopped to help him. The two men hit it off as did their wives. The Davis’ had three children. Their daughter was a bit older than me, but not by much. The boys were younger. I was only four or five at the time. But what I remember most about having Webb Davis as my dentist were his boots. He always wore honest-to-goodness cowboy boots. I was in awe. I wanted to be a cowgirl and ride in the rodeo more than anything back then. It didn’t happen. We were living back in Ohio before I got my first pony. 

When we lived in Florida, the Waters family recommended Hugh Tyler as a dentist for me. I was engaged to Tom Waters at the time. 

So, Dr. Tyler, who lived on the same road as the Waters’ became my dentist. He came highly recommended and I knew his son, Mike and his daughter Cindy from school.

Still, I squeezed my eyes shut. Going to the dentist is not my favorite activity in life.

Tom and I moved to Ohio in 1978. We met a wonderful couple at church with two girls near our daughters’ ages. Dave and Linda became friends.  And Dave Nelson, well established as a dentist in our community, became my dentist. 

If you are one of my readers, you know Tom died in 2014. I moved to a new house and community in 2017 and two months later I moved to Kosovo to teach for a year. 

Dr. Dave closed his office during COVID. 

In 2023, I married Mike Tyler. Yep…the son of Dr. Hugh Tyler. Mike and I moved to Citrus County, Florida. We bought a house, settled into our new marriage, and started a new course in our lives. 

Then it happened. While eating, I felt something hard in my food. It was part of an old filling. Mike and I were living in a new community. For the first time in my life, I had to find a new dentist in a new town. On my own.

I did a quick search on the internet for dentists in the area. There were many. I was still contemplating what to do when, while at the grocery store one day, I saw a sign.

A sign. Not a vision…an honest-to -goodness sign next door to Winn-Dixie.

 All it said was “Dentist.” Nothing pretentious. Nothing showy. No pictures of teenagers with big smiles and gleaming teeth. No photos of models in silk dresses, dripping with diamonds, and sparkling white teeth.

Simply “Dentist.” I went inside and made an appointment. It turns out they are great. They use the newest technology. My first visit was for a full mouth evaluation. The second was to address the broken tooth. 

I don’t mind shopping for Christmas presents. I don’t mind the weekly grocery shopping. I can even find joy in probing around antique stores or the Dollar Tree...it doesn’t matter. 

I simply don’t like shopping for a dentist. 

Me? I just wait for a “sign.”

And if that sign happens to be 

next to Winn-Dixie in Inverness?

You've found Gulf Coast Dental Associates.

Tell them you found them on the blog!

 

 

 

 

Tiki and the Dogs

Tiki and the Dogs

 As many of my readers know, when Mike and I married he had pets. Two dogs and a cat to be specific, though one of the dogs actually belonged Mike's son. Roxy is a pit bull and the most loving, caring dog I’ve ever known since Max Lightening the Wonder Dog died several years ago.

The other dog in our house, a Blue Healer named Honeybee didn’t have much to do with me at first. Typically, Blue Healers are “one person” or “one family” dogs. Honeybee, or “Bee” as we often called her, eventually opened up a bit. I could pet her behind her ears without her fussing and she didn’t mind accepting a bite of food from my hand. I think she knew I loved Mike and he loved me, paving the way for a more positive relationship.

The cat? Tiki, named after a resort in Islamorada, remained a creature unto herself. Though Roxy longed to play with her, Tiki turned up her nose at the offer and ducked under the bed to avoid the awkward social situation of a dog and cat friendship.

When Bee started slowing down and showing sides of failing health, the cat was concerned. She watched from afar but it was Roxy who tried to offer comfort and support to the old gal. 

Roxy had been staying with us, but as I said, she is Shawn’s dog. With Bee not feeling well, Shawn came and took Roxy back home with him. This left Tiki to shoulder the pet watch by herself. 

Bee was growing weaker each day.  She managed to drink water but ate very little. Mike and I researched companies that would come to the house if we reached a point where euthanizing our sweet girl was best for her. 

Honeybee

The thought was painful, but so was watching her falter standing up or list to the left a bit as she walked. 

I was glad Roxy wasn’t here to witness it all. Tiki seemed indifferent to the changes.

Then one night, Honeybee woke up fidgeting. Squirming. Uncomfortable for a bit. Then she seemed to settle down and go back to sleep.

In the morning, Mike got up before I did. He leaned over and kissed me good morning and whispered in my ear, “Bee is gone.” 

I looked over to her bed where she looked to be resting peacefully. Expected? Yes. But hard. We buried her in the backyard, an azalea bush marking her grave. 

Roxy is still at her own house. I don’t know how she will respond when she discovers Honeybee is missing from ours. I imagine she will search the house over for her friend. 

But the cat? Tiki is the one who has surprised us. 

Tiki misses her dogs. She was okay for a while after Roxy left, but after Bee died, she became less aloof and more clingy. She wanders the house looking for her dogs. She climbs in our laps and looks up at us quizzically. “Where are my dogs?” You can see it in her eyes. 

We will “doggy sit Roxy” from time-to-time, but we don’t think we’ll get another puppy yet. We likely will find another canine member of the household in the future, but before that happens, we have a few things we’d like to do. 

Until then, we have a clingy cat to entertain and soothe in the aftermath of losing her dogs.

Roxy

 

Old Florida

"Exploring “Old Florida”

Most folks around the country hear the word ”Florida’’ and immediately think of warm weather, orange juice,  and sandy, sun-kissed beaches. I get it. But if you read my post about Rainbow River a couple of weeks ago, you begin to see the beauty of Florida’s interior.

After church Sunday, Mike suggested we take a ride to Chiefland for a sandwich at a great barbeque place he knows and maybe poke around the area a bit. Mike has been all over that part of the state and knew I would like to explore it a bit. 

A Sunday drive in the Corvette around Florida? I was in! I like those impromptu dates with my husband. 

Mike was right about the barbeque place. It was delicious. I trust Mike, but when you walk in a restaurant and it looks like everyone from the county is there, you know it’s going to be good food. And it was. Barbeque pork sandwiches and sweet tea. It doesn’t get any more Southern than that. We were off to a good start.

A few miles north of the restaurant we pulled off at a park located on the Suwannee River. I’ve only seen the river from the interstate before. Up close, the strong current hardly matches the lazy rhythm of the song. But it is beautiful! Captivating, even. A teenager was trying his hand fishing in the strong current, but meeting with no success. “Maybe if he took his shoes off,” I thought. I mean if you’re going to fish the Suwanee river…

The history of the bridge and a portion of the old structure is displayed in the park as well. It is all part of “Old Florida.”

We next drove miles on a desolate highway lined with woods and palmettos to Cedar Key. Cedar Key is an old coastal town. I have long heard of the place but had never been there. I know they have an outdoor art show there every year and many boats. I understand the restaurants in the area are excellent. All these things attract tourists, Florida’s number one industry.

We poked around a bit in art stores and examined the old structures lining the streets. We walked down along the waterfront. It is an interesting and beautiful piece of “Old Florida’s” history. But it was extremely hot and humid that day, so we made our way back to the car and headed home, vowing to return when the temperature cools a bit in the fall.

The day was wonderful. We set out to enjoy a bit of “Old Florida.” But that evening, as I stood on our back deck looking out over the lawn with the lake beyond, I realized “Old Florida” is in our own back yard. And it is beautiful.