No ghost but a mango

No ghost. In fact, no nothing. Pelican Alley is closed on Tuesday. This is the second time the place has evaded me. The last time was last fall when I went in ordered but then, for seemingly other reasons, canceled and left. Hmmmmm....veeeeery strange, eh? Anyway, for the record, I do and do not believe in ghosts, like everything else and I did not see the pantie tweaking ghost of Pelican Alley today. I will try again later. The day ended with a mango party. We ate the last of the mangoes we got at Pine Island a couple of weeks ago. Except for the crappy Tommy Atkins, the one most often imported to the US, they were all fantastic. So, for today, no ghost but 11 mangoes down and hundreds to go.

Ghost of birthdays present

Today is my birthday so we are going to Pelican Alley for lunch. I've been wanting to eat there ever since I learned that the place has a reputation for being haunted. According to legend the ghost of Pelican Alley's previous owner likes to give cute waitresses weggies as well as do all the usual ghost type stuff like float the sound of mysterious foot steps, radiate an odd presence, open and close doors and move shit around.

A group of female ghost hunters recently tried evoking the ghost so they could catch him on their lame video. They offered to let him "touch the fun bags" and pull their undies. They treated him like a demented circus clown with demands to "make it move" and "give me a photo for my wallet"..., "wuss boy"... "you must not be a man". WTF, ladies? No self-respecting ghost is going to give it up for that.

I'll let you know how it goes today. It is only lunchtime but if anything funny happens I'll have my camera.

Ancients. Elephants in the Sea.

If you're ever in Florida's Venice/Sarasota area and want to try kayaking, or want to get on the water but didn't bring your boat, I highly recommend Easy Kayaking. It's run by a great guy named Terry Brawley who offers both guided eco-tours and boat rental. We did the tour first to get an idea of the area and ground rules and since have rented kayaks and gone on our own. The first time Lee went he got lucky and saw both dolphins and manatees. I went another day and only saw manatees. I say "only" but it was amazing. And I did bring the camera.

Kristiana, you asked me for a photo of a manatee. It's taken nearly a year darlin', but here they are....

Manatee spotting.

The guys in the boat (upper left) shout that manatee are coming our way. At this point, three ancient water dwelling members of the elephant family are little more than a shadowy area below the waves (upper middle of the photo).

Manatee approaching kayak.

I stop rowing and wait. In a few seconds the manatee are swirls and dark shapes in the water before me. Could I be so lucky? They seem to be heading directly my way.

Closer.
Manatee and calf.

Suddenly they appear... sirenia of the sea... the ancient manatee... three graceful denizens of another world and time! Perhaps they are a family, mother, father and calf? If you look closely, you will see a little one swimming directly below the top one.

Closer.
Manatees passing by.

They swam directly under my kayak. I am amazed by how innocent naive and vulnerable they are. Now I understand why the manatees are endangered.They are totally trusting.

Directly under my kayak.
Manatee and calf

These manatees are no more than a finger length away. I could easily touch her but don't. The ICW is habitat not a petting zoo. Terry tells us that nearly all the manatees in Florida have been hit and are scared from boat propellers. That just ain't right!

Before my close encounter, I did not know that manatees are the closest living relatives of the Proboscidea (elephants) and Hyracoidea (hyraxes) or that these sirens of the sea... I say mermaids... are thought to have evolved from four-legged land mammals over 60 million years ago. In other words, manatees are a treasure and because this beautiful, ancient, endangered species is by nature so trusting, defenseless and we bare all the greater responsibility to protect and watch over them.

Great Blue Heron's Day at the Beach

Great Blue Heron likes to people
watch when she goes to the beach.

The old man in the blue hat
likes to pretend she's not there.

Great Blue Heron finds this very curious.

Most people stare.

Great Blue Heron also likes watching the sunset.

It is her favorite things of all.

Mango madness

Mango madness

We drove to Pine Island the other day and bought 11 different varieties of mangoes at the farmer's market. We'd never heard of most of them so the grower wrote the name of each mango on its skin. There's a Beverly, a Choc, a Carrie, a Hatcher, a Keitt, Kent, Lancetilla, Tommy Atkins, Valencia Pride, a Wise, for which we could find no description, and a Nam Doc Mai, a Thai mango that is supposed to be the best of all. They will probably all ripen at once. That's the madness.

We also re-visited our favorite hurricane specter, a house in Pirate Harbor that was destroyed by Hurricane Charley back in 2004. More on that later and the manatees.

Amy Winehouse, RIP

Sorry it had to end this way.

Uploaded by RustlingRagazza on Jun 19, 2011

The last song Amy Winehouse performed in concert during her short life. Technically, she performed four days prior to death whens he joined her goddaughter on stage, but this was the last song she perofmed on her own
concert, for a large audience.

These are the original videos (copied many times by many) from Amy Winehouse's last ever concert held in Belgrade, Serbia on 18th June 2011. Rest in peace.

Days like this...

I have about zero energy for doing blog posts these days. Probably it's the humidity. I don't know. But here I am. Habit, I guess. I hate letting the top post sit too long. We have been doing some really neat things but I stop at the thought of putting photos and words together. However, just for the record, I went kayaking the other day and three giant manatees swam directly under my boat. I could have touched them with my finger, they were about two inches below the surface, but it wouldn't have been right. They are so innocent, ancient, and vulnerable.They swept by, graceful giants of another world and time. I did not want to disturb them. I took photos but haven't uploaded them yet. I knew at the time nothing would turn out but that didn't stop me. I'll get around to posting them eventually, along with an explanation so you'll be able make out the wonder.

Other than that, lots of walking on the beach looking for millions of years old sharks teeth. We've both found several. They aren't actually teeth anymore. They are fossils of teeth, teeth turned to stone. I'm told they are from sharks that lived anywhere from one to 25 million years ago. Neither of us has found any of the huge ones, just tiny teeth, but they are cool anyway. And I've been swimming a lot, or rather wading and sometimes bobbing on Pool Noodle. Me/we? I could as well say we because we do it all together but it's my blog so I. Anyway, the water temp. is anywhere from 80 to 90 degrees depending on, you know, the weather.

And we've been riding our bikes around South Venice these perfect summer day type days, days that feel endless because, you know what I mean, they are the way life really is at heart, slow sunny blue sky low key warm moist overgrown green and full of birdsong.

Murdoch and Media as Empire and Circus

Just watching the Murdoch media inquiry live on CNN and writing the blog post included below when someone shoved a shaving cream pie on Murdoch's face. LOL

-----------------------------------------------------------

Rupert Murdoch is the P. T. Barnum of the News Internatio­nal/News Corp media circus plus Mafioso boss. In case you don't know who Barnum is, he's the Barnum of the Ringling Bros/Barnum Bailey Circus and the guy who said, "There's a sucker born every minute". 

Murdoch's formula of tabloid spectacle, fake news and propaganda backed by bribes, intimidation and criminal activity proves that that is still true, and here in America Roger Ailes, the head of News Corp, Murdoch's operation in the US, proves it with Murdoch's FOX NEWS. For too long these crooks have had the power to run politician­s, law enforcemen­t and play King Maker.

It is time to the flush this scum out of the system. They replaced truth and integrity with lurid spectacle and propaganda. Sadly, yesterday whistleblower Sean Hoare, the man who set the ball rolling on Murdoch Co., was found dead (murdered?) at his home. How many more victims have to fall before the public demands an end to this empire of thugs and clown henchmen?

Tropical Storm Bret is passing through the gulf tonight. It was pretty intense for awhile but, at the moment, has settled into a steady, moderate rain, rolling thunder and lightning. Seems we are adapting to the heat and humidity. We turn off the air at night and open up the house. It's hot but, other than a few windless nights, we're sleeping okay. They say that in August things really heat up so that will be the real test.

Full moon on Alligator creek.

But so far, I am really loving being in Florida. It's beautiful here. I am out taking photos all the time. And birds are everywhere so automatically that makes this my kind of place.

Barkie's Bad Night

Barkie in better days.

Poor Barkie. A bunch of humans got into a huge fight at his house last night. He probably hid under the bed the whole time they duked it out, threatening each other, screaming, yelling, crying. They were so loud I wouldn't be surprised if they also disturbed all the birds in the area as well as the raccoons and opossums. Opossums are especially timid. And surely Frida Kahlo the squirrel did not appreciate the ruckus though it didn't bother us. We were out on the deck staring over at his house through the dark like naked ghouls but Barkie, the poor bastard, was trapped in the house with those maniacs.

Finally the fight poured out into the street where we could see, whenever the fluky streetlight flicked on, several teenage girls circling each other as some guy yelled in a very loud voice.... "One punch. You get one punch. ONE!". Unfortunately at that point the streetlight flicker off again so we couldn't see who punched who but then one of the girls cried out, "Where are we going to sleep tonight?" and he yelled back, "At my house. Everybody into the car. Come on! Get in. Now! NOW!" The streetlight flicked on just in time for us to see them drive off. We haven't seen or heard Barkie this morning. I hope he's okay.

One down, now what about Murdoch and Ailes?

Just read this morning that immediately after the FBI announced an inquiry into allegation that victims of the 9/11 attacks had their phones hacked by reporters at News of The World, Rebekah Brooks, chief executive at Rupert Murdoch's News International, resigned her position.  Good, fine for a start but the bitch should be in jail.

But even that would not enough. The only way to slay this dragon is to cut off its head. If Rupert, Roger and James don't go to jail then, in spite of all the underlings who fall (are pushed) onto their swords and all the mea culpas of lesser underlings­, the Disinforma­tion Monster/Ki­ng Maker machine they have spawned will continue insinuating itself ever deeper into the heart of global media, government­s and society at large.

China to Tawan

Here's a fun one. 

Open Google Maps Directions

Type China as your starting point

Type Taiwan as your destination

Read Step 48

Also, it's pretty funny that all 69 driving directions begin in English but the navigation points themselves are in a Chinese script.

Morning Peanut

The morning janitor has come sweeping through the theatre of my mind and requested that I move along so here's a new top post just to honor the passing of time and our incessant need for something new.

Frida Kahlo enjoying a morning peanut.

Rainy rain

Florida, and after some delay, it seems that the rains have finally begun.

Invest 96

Invest 96 is currently moving through the Gulf. According to  Weather Underground it has the potential for "tropical development". Here that meant all night rain and, before dawn, frogs, cicada and numerous other wonderfully bizarre sounding creatures singing their little hearts out. This morning the front of our swamp house on stilts is toe deep in water. Florida is in the sub-tropics but today is humid enough, misty steamy and gray enough that, combined with the magic of euphoric recall, it feels like one of my favorite rainy season days in Costa Rica.

It began clear and sunny, a great day for a hike, so we decided to go to the Gandoca-Manzanillo National Wildlife Refuge on the Caribbean, our goal being a certain secluded beach at the south end of the reserve. We biked to the trail head and launched on what turned out to be a grueling trek on coastal jungle paths. We had to backtrack a couple of times when trails died in impassable ravines and, once out of that fray, we slogged for miles up and down a gutted logging road that rain had reduced to bogs of mud and impossible slicks of red clay. Very slow going. Finally, after a testy little discussion on the merits of reaching the beach, we took a break on a pile of hand-milled teak slabs protruding from the vegetation. It seemed to be the site of an old manual sawmill. After lunching on mosquito, peanut butter and banana sandwiches in the gray afternoon light we, at least partially, returned to our senses and agreed that time had run out. Just after we started back it began to drizzle.

Cicada preparing to sing

By the time we got to our crappy rental bikes it was nearly twilight. Halfway back to Puerto Viejo it began raining.Then it got dark. Then the rain turned into a first class tropical downpour. The closer we got to town the harder it fell and the more crowded the road became. A few miles out, it was a circus of slow moving trucks and fast moving cars weaving through bicycles and buzzing mopeds carrying two, sometimes three people. Like us, they were dodging the trucks and cars while also weaving around hand carts and pedestrians hurrying through the rain. Everything and everyone was soaked and steamy. Luckily, headlights from passing vehicles illuminated the potholes and pools of water as well as those of us on foot and bicycle. It was so overwhelming that finally there was nothing to do but surrender to the exotic, insular, dangerous beauty of the storm. Then it was actually fun being a part of it. Of course, it helped that we made it back to the hostel alive.

As for Florida, I think we are finally acclimated. The temperature is in the 80s and it feels a bit cool. Barky isn't too happy today. It's the damn fireworks. People are still setting them off. Poor guy. He's a wreck.

Feliz Cumpleaños Frida Kahlo,104

In honor of the 104th anniversary of the birth of the very excellent surrealist painter Frida Kahlo, I hope you will enjoy this video montage of her work.

Frida Kahlo, July 6, 1907 – July 13, 1954

Gracias siempre, mi amiga.

Battle Royale

Frida Kahlo savoring a peanut in her favorite palm tree.

The Great Peanut War of 2011 is currently raging here in our tiny dead end hamlet along Alligator Creek. I suppose it's my fault. After we settled in I started sprinkling peanuts around the base of the pineapple palm for Frida Kahlo and, at first, all was good. She came, ate a few and tucked the rest around the yard for later. Diego Rivera showed up shortly after I started putting out a seed mix designed to attract red-headed birds. No surprise. Squirrels love sunflower seeds. Then, of course, the very passionate Leon Trotsky made his appearance. A couple of days later we worried that he had died in a fall from the porch after a failed assault on a bag of peanuts. I'd foolishly left them by an open (screened) window. Since then we've watch him fall several times more, once after attempting to hurl himself through a screenless (closed) window. Perhaps another assault on my peanut stash, now in the laundry room, but who can know the mind of a squirrel? That time we heard his little claws scratching the glass as he slid down and into the bushes. Another time he miscalculated a leap after a rival and again launched himself into the bushes. He is a tough little dude.

Most recently the notorious clowns Larry, Moe and Curly joined the show. Now all five chase each other up and down the porch screens, drain pipes, over the roof, along electric wires, through the trees and around the yard but Frida Kahlo pays no mind. She comes when there are new peanuts under the pineapple palm, chooses one, licks it all over then scampers off to stash it in its own, unique secret hiding place. I don't know if she remembers where she puts everything but she repeats the ritual until all the peanuts are tucked safely away. As for the jokers? They are too busy fighting to notice.


Diego Rivera, Leon Trotsky, Larry, Moe and Curly at it again.

Lemon Bay outtakes

I have a thing for

mirrors on the ground

Yes,

that is where I found it.

You expect me to believe that?

And that is were I left it. Anyway...

I also have a thing for the letter H, aka h,

legacy of an acid trip in my 20s.

so I thought the Lemon Bay Cemetery

was pretty cool. It even provides moorage

for the H. H. Bill Anger.

Cranky cockroach

Barkie says Happy Belated Winter Solstice to the Southern Hemisphere!!!

Thanks Bob for reminding me about our planet's southern hemisphere where yesterday, as we in the north enjoyed the first day of summer, he observed the first cold day of winter.

Barkie says...

...barkbark barkbarkbark...

Barkie says Happy Summer Solstice!!!

.. bark bark barkbarkbark....
That is all.

.

Home wanted --- signed the Mourning Doves

A pair of Mourning Doves are deciding whether or not they can make a home with us. They spent several hours yesterday afternoon trying to find an opening in the front screen so they could check out the porch. Seems Mourning Doves prefer building their nests under roofs rather than in trees. It's not our house so we can't start nailing up dove condos everywhere but, after reading up on them, we decided we'd see about setting out a nesting box on the unscreened side porch and leave the rest up to them.

I did not know until today that the Mourning Dove is a very close relative to the Passenger Pigeon, a bird which, sadly, was hunted into extinction by stupid, greedy cruel Americans at the beginning of the 1900s. You are in luck. I do not have the will this morning to detail their dastardly methods but I will say that if karma means business about that eye for an eye thing, let it be an eye for every eye these fucktards closed.

Martha, the last Passenger Pigeon, died alone in a zoo on September 1, 1914.

Anyway, the Mourning Doves have a lovely song and I hope we can work something out so they stay.

The day in pictures

Gone with the wave

You looking at me looking at you.

Me looking at you looking at me.

It rained in the afternoon

so Frida Kahlo the Squirrel
took shelter on the porch.

As soon as it stopped

she made her exit across
the screen, house left.

That is all.

Time lapse with Swami

Swami, how I love ya, how I love ya, my dear ol' Swami...

As I mentioned the other day, we are still settling in but on Saturday M. Lee had to make an emergency trip to Oregon. His dad is in the hospital. (He's getting better.) Swami and I stayed here to hold down the tent. We're doing okay but it's weird being in Florida, especially at a time like this, so far from family and friends, familiar places. Alone. Well, the two of us but even Swami thinks so and he's generally up for anything. Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. I'm grateful to be anywhere. In the morning we sit on the deck, Swami and I. I have coffee and my laptop and he enjoys the trees, squirrels and birds. When it starts heating up, we close the windows and doors and put on the air. It's nice.

This afternoon I went to the beach. South Venice has community access to the gulf and a private ferry to shuttle people across the ICW so today I checked it out. While sitting in the sand looking out at the sea, a guy stopped and pointed out the turtle tracks leading from the water to the tree line. I hadn't really noticed them. Unfortunately, it's not emphasized here but this area is critical nesting habitat for sea turtles, especially the loggerheads. He claimed to have seen one that was about four or five feet long earlier today. I only hope to be so lucky.

Ibis lunching in the surf

They come at night and dig their nests deep into the dunes just above the high water mark. They've been doing it every spring for a million years and now they're are endangered. We are idiots! We're wrecking it for everyone, including ourselves. I hope the turtles have a good year. Very few hatchings make it even in the best of times.

It's twilight now, voices drifting in the window from across Alligator creek. Swami and I are tucked in, he in his little boat, me with my laptop, sketchbook and ebook. I'm reading Bangkok Tattoo, book two of a trilogy by John Burdett. It's written from the perspective of a Buddhist police detective son of a whore and set in Bangkok's red light district..

Later. It's past midnight. Swami is long asleep. I am tired. I woke up at 4 am. Morning seems like a year ago.

Venice update and happy hummingbird story

"A writer is somebody for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." --- Thomas Mann

(Even doing this nothing little blog post ended up being unwieldy and time consuming. I think I must be, above all, a puzzle person.)

Upon arrival the locals rushed to check us out.

We're back in Florida. We've been here for a few days but have mostly spent the time getting settled, which we are now, more or less. We rented a little house on Alligator Creek which is part of Florida's 8,000 miles of shoreline. Like a lot of places on the ICW (Intracoastal Waterway), the house next door has a great dock on open water, big fish swimming around the pilings. Ours does not. All there is, or all that's left of whatever there was, is a creaky lopsided walkway that deadends in the mangroves and is slowing sinking into the shallow, murky water. If there ever was a dock at the end, it has completely vanished. As it stands, it would be absurd trying to launch even a canoe from it. No big deal. The mangroves are better off without us mucking it up. The fish and birds aren't the ones leaving trash in water. What's extra cool is that at night I can hear the discrete splash of critters (alligators?) slipping into the creek. Never heard anything like that before. Plus the house is great. Very comfy.

Home sweet temporary home

Plus this neighborhood just happens to have a private beach on the gulf. Residents are shuttled across the ICU on a tiny private ferry which makes the crossing every half hour throughout the day. We haven't done that yet but we did walk down to the beach from Nokomis last fall just to check it out. The best part is that it's a turtle nesting beach, mainly loggerheads. Of course, there's not much to see but it's not about us, is it? I just hope they survive human encroachment. But this stretch of coast is pretty mellow.

Anyway, here's a feel good video for your viewing pleasure. Falconers think they've got it going on but check out this fellow. And if you like the video be sure and read the full follow-up kandwarf posts in the description. Very cool.

Costa Rica afternoon

Once again I sit before the interminable blank page. The abyss. If I stop writing, I cease to exist.

Hummingbird, La Sabana

The past is in shreds and stuffed in my pocket; the grackle bathing in the pool, the old blond drinking herself to death on the long slow shuffle down (she hates everyone), the radio music playing in the kitchen... one sweet moment after the next, here then gone.

Shish kabob vendor. Fire in a shopping cart. Sunday in Costa Rica

I want to stop knowing this.