And the oft-forgotten mindfulness of the inhale and the exhale.
4. The Breath of Fresh Air Robert and I are experiencing with the television reality series, “Love on the Spectrum.”
“Overview: Seven adults with autism dive headlong into a dating group to explore the unpredictable world of romance, tackling misconceptions about both themselves and how they want to live.” (Series Website)
We recently stumbled upon season two and are working through it now.
5. Playing hide and seek with a Japanese Flowering Cherry tree near us here in historic district Savannah.
May you experience a Bit of Play somehow this spring weekend.
Does anybody else take photos while you’re waiting in the exam room when you go to see the doctor?
No? Really? Why not?
Is this against HIPPA rules or something?
Well, this morning brought my yearly appointment at my ophthalmologist. Since it’s a new year, I’ve been making my rounds to various specialists. Haven’t you?
For some reason (reminder: talk to therapist about this), while I am waiting for the doctor—any doctor— to make her/his appearance, I get all giddy nervous and therefore anxiously try to figure out how to pass the time before she/he enters and aggressively takes my blood pressure or sticks a needle in me.
The answer? Intra-medical-office photography!
My eyes have just been dilated, so I can’t really see you.
And I can’t quite figure out how to interpret this writing on yonder wall …
Huh?
“E.T. Phone home” maybe?
I’ll probably be getting a new eyeglass prescription.
It’s St. Patrick’s Day eve, and as Robert and I have done the last five or six years, we hightail it out of Dodge (well, Savannah).
“Why,” you may be asking. “Doesn’t Savannah have one of the nation’s largest and most celebrated St. Patrick’s Day bashes/parades?”
Yes, it does. And we have enjoyed them in the past.
But here comes the rub. I moved to Savannah back in 2009, as I was semi-retiring from Georgia Southern University (about an hour north of SAV). I have lived in two Savannah locations , and (incredibly) BOTH were directly on the parade route, which initially sounded great. And I suppose initially it was.
But as the years went by, I began to see aspects of the parade’s insanity. Don’t get me wrong, St. Patrick’s Day celebrations can be so much fun and meaningful: the Greening of the Fountains, the Celtic Cross Ceremony in Emmet Park, the Jasper Green Ceremony in Madison Square, etc.
Savannah’s population is around 150.000, and the parade usually draws at least that many more visitors. And living on the parade route, we have witnessed disappointing human behavior outside our door. Our potted plants being trampled, thrown and broken on the pavement, even urinated upon. (TMI?). Partiers loudly camping outside our door all night the night before the parade.
So anyway, we drove an hour or so south of us to St. Simons Island to a quaint little retro motel (not hotel). Queen’s Court Inn:
We are currently high-energetically super-celebrating St. Patty Eve.
My helpers:
And Robert’s:
It’s deliciously quiet here. And raining softly outside.
Walking through Savannah’s Colonial Park Cemetery this morning with HR, we came across this bench.
There has to be a story somewhere. Is the story’s central character Mary Helen Ray, whose name is on the bench?
Or maybe one of the nearly 700 folks who died during a yellow fever epidemic in Savannah: “The most macabre bit of history involves a subtly tweaked fact on a historical marker about the yellow fever. According to the marker, ‘nearly 700’ victims of the 1820 yellow fever epidemic were buried in a mass grave, but historical records allegedly show that exactly 666 people are buried in the grave. Nearly 700, indeed.” savannahnow.com.
Here’s a link to an interesting story about Colonial Park Cemetery: 
A blog category about finding “art” in unexpected places and situations.
So Robert and I were at Whole Foods today shopping for a few (emphasis “few”) things: his deionized water (don’t get me started), dried porcini mushrooms (don’t get me started, again — one of his recipes) and my white balsamic vinegar, which I REALLY needed for an incredible salad dressing that I have fallen in love with. (I’m a retired English professor, so I know better than to end a sentence with a proposition, but who cares? I’m retired.)
We were successful with finding the water and the white balsamic vinegar. And all went well until we got to the checkout counter.
For some reason when we tried to scan the white balsamic vinegar, it said “Price cannot be resolved” as if we were in some United Nations mediation.
The delightfully beautiful clerk went to try to figure out what the “Resolve” issue was. She came back, beaming and said “It’s free!“
Our (my) white balsamic vinegar when we got home, proudly standing on our counter.
So then (we’re back at Whole Foods now) we went onto our next item, fresh Turmeric!
Okay, explanation. I have been having a bit of an issue with high blood pressure lately. I have been trying to incorporate both fresh ginger and fresh turmeric into our diet.
I put the turmeric down on the scale thingy.
Walked a little closer.
Walked a little closer still and saw her.
Do you see her? She’s walking to the left with a healthy gait. Encouraging me!
A blog category of pics I’ve taken of HR (Hubby Robert) and … well, just about anything.
Robert and … a big hunk of Roquefort cheese.
TIB (Truth in Blogging): I have never bought a hunk of blue cheese before. I usually buy it as a container of crumbles. I was surprised at how much more succulently moist it was compared to my lowly crumbles.
Blue cheese seems to be one of those foods that people either love or hate. Similar to oysters.
TIB 2: HR doesn’t like oysters.
TIB 3: HR doesn’t like blue cheese.
TIB 4: I still like HR.
Here he is, dramatically explaining something or other. I can’t remember what. I wasn’t paying much attention. I was too focused on my blue cheese.
“Roquefort is one of the oldest known cheeses. It was reportedly the favourite cheese of the emperor Charlemagne, and in France it is called le fromage des rois et des papes (the cheese of kings and popes).” Brittanica.com
So what exactly is Roquefort cheese?
“Roquefort is a blue cheese with a unique flavor profile that originates from the picturesque Roquefort-sur-Soulzon region in France. Its distinctively rich, tangy taste and creamy texture have made it an enthusiast’s favorite among cheese lovers around the world. This cheese, aged for three to five months in local limestone caves, holds a protected designation of origin (PDO) status.” cheese.com
NealEnJoy 