
After the dark time with kitty cat Benny’s passing, daughter Amy offered us a couple of weeks at the Ponte Vedra condo to get away for a bit and allow the quiet surf to soothe.




After the dark time with kitty cat Benny’s passing, daughter Amy offered us a couple of weeks at the Ponte Vedra condo to get away for a bit and allow the quiet surf to soothe.




This morning Robert and I had to “put down” our beloved Benny. He has been “going downhill“ (how did we come up with all these euphemisms relating to death?) for quite a while now. This last week Benny, quite the senior citizen at 17 1/2, became noticeably lethargic, sleeping basically all the time, having difficulty breathing, and showing no interest in his food or his water, alerting us, per our vet’s advice, that the time had come. (Benny had progressive throat cancer.)
Robert and I will celebrate 10 years of marriage in December, but Benny has been with R much longer and is his True First.

So this morning HR loaded Benny in his carrier for one last ride.



How difficult it is to say Goodbye.










Two words night be better …


Marveling this Monday evening at finding the perfect spot to write …

Sometime all you need is a change of scenery …

Robert and I are back down in Ponte Vedra, Florida at the oceanfront condo my daughter is renting for six months, as she contemplates expanding her medical business down here. So of course we find ways to finagle our way here as often as possible.

I swim 20 lamps each morn at 7:30 before the sun becomes a broiler.

This summer, I am attempting to write a memoir about the challenge of “marrying” my previous straight life (to Donna) and my current gay life (with Robert). And what a challenge!
Here’s my sunny study in the condo where I’m attempting to write …

As I sit in that wicker chair, some days I realize that we’re all writing our memoirs, day by day and year by year.

Marveling, for sure.

Robert got up at 6:12 this morning to photograph the sun rising on the Atlantic here at Ponte Vedra Florida, where we are staying for a week.


I woke up about 30 minutes later.

Now we’re sitting on the balcony, drinks in hand, gazing at the full moon.




I walked in the kitchen and saw Robert, reminding me that I should post a T-shirt Tuesday!

For several years now, we have participated in Georgia’s Farm Passport program:
“The Farm Passport features over 100 farms included in Georgia Farm Bureau’s Certified Farm Markets program, which was created to help people discover where their food comes from, meet the farm families who grew the food, and create lasting memories as they travel the state.” Farm Bureau, GA

With each visit to a farm, we get our “passport” stamped to go toward prizes, including the T-shirt.




I’ve mentioned these t-shirts before, but I’ve almost worn mine out, so I thought I’d keep it alive a bit longer with some remembrance.

When my first grandson Daniel arrived some nineteen years ago now …

… I didn’t want to be called “Grandpa” (so OLD sounding!), “Papaw” (that was my father), etc., etc. My son-in-law (Cuban) solved the dilemma for me: “Let your grandkids call you ‘Abu”. Most folks won’t know what it means.”
Abuelo is the affectionate Spanish nickname for Grandpa.
When he was older and talking, Daniel decided that Robert should have a nickname as well, thus Rbu!

Marveling this Monday at late winter’s sparse beauty here in South Georgia.


I truly believe that if we look for beauty, we will see it.