Significant Scribblings Before Dawn…

How do we know what we are destine for? How do we know what Greatness we can achieve? I don’t… how can we? says the voice inside my head. But don’t tell that to my heart. My heart tells me I have something inside me that is bursting to get out. It always has. Perhaps “greatness” is not the right word. Greatness is a big word. Greatness to me sounds monumental, too big. I think Significant is more likely the word I am looking for. Significant has enough consideration but feels more singular, more personally noteworthy with enough room to color outside the lines.
   

When I was a kid. I would dream of ideas, or stories, or little vignettes. I would tell some to my best friend, some I wrote down, but mostly they lived in my head. They still do actually… 
   

I imagine a village of short stories, blogs, and poems. Tome Alley has cats and rats feasting on overstuffed trash cans of discarded concepts. Lanes with lawns to sprawl out on or picnic or write my painted pony. And if you know me, you know that my village has gardens full of unruly misspellings and dangling prepositions poking their heads through picket fences.
  

That neighborhood is sometimes forgotten. Adulthood can do that. We race through childhood, where kids rule and imagination is Queen of Prose and Poetry. Followed by adolescences, where I was absolutely convinced everything drama around me was the end of the world and/or the next best seller. And then adulthood, where most of us move to the suburbs of our brains… the neighborhood where we rewrite ourselves right into middle age mediocrity with perfectly paved walkways of reason without rhyme. Copy cats nibble on excessive punctuation, and of course the verge is neatly trimmed of its fragmented sentences. 
   

But I feel lucky. I wonder back occasionally. If just for a few moments before dawn, I take a stroll through the old streets. And to my delight if no one else’s, I drown myself in an excess of alliteration and hyperbole. This blog is just such a wondering. 
   

And who knows? A significant scribbling could be just around the corner.

TaWanda!: Here Kitty Kitty…

TaWanda!: Here Kitty Kitty…

Here Kitty Kitty…

This winter we have been offered a different path. Instead of returning Otwon we have joined the Naples Marco Island KOA in SW Florida.

It has been 25+ years since I have lived in a coastal Florida town not to mention a town surrounded by a nature preserve. There are a few things I remember but would rather not encounter... like alligators, no see-m’s, and rattlesnakes. Then there are a few I am not accustom to… armadillos, bobcats, and panthers.

Really! Cats! Big Ones! I was a little freaked out. I had traded hawks and bears of Maine for gators and cats!

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Florida… and to my sunshine native sisters like Lucy, Barb, and Dixie: I have not turned into a whining Yankee, I promise. Cross my heart! But Panthers and Bobcats? Really? I have dogs. Little dogs!

I had been forewarned by a few co-workers to be careful at night and not to let my dogs out by themselves. OK, this freaked me out a little more. Then, I realized I was getting my information from snowbirds… I would generalize and call them all Yankees but one couple is from Georgia (say no more about them Dawgs; lol) and another in from Carolina. Both would cut off my head if I called them a Yankees. So I suppose there is a difference between the “South” and “South Florida”. I needed the 411 from a local… a year round resident.

They are easy to spot. They are the ones in flip flops and a rugged tan. They informed me that although indeed there were critters to be concerned about… they had never seen the “cats” here at the KOA. And the rest was common sense Florida… which fortunately we have.

We have been here a week now and so far have only seen a raccoon or two… or three… or ten. I figure if there are coons around then the gators must not be. And the biggest issue we have is with the” no see-um’s” Help! Does anyone have remedy?

PS. Secretly I am hoping for a glimpse of a “Cat”. But that may have to wait for a trip to the Glades.

Until then… Peace, Luv, and Dreams of Cats, Here kitty, kitty…

Me and Dr. Seuss Recall the Season

I took a summer hiatus from blogging. I’m not sure why… part of me said that this was a travel blog and we have transitioned from traveling to lifestyle. But then again, we are still kind of wondering about the country. So this blog is a catch-up blog of sorts.

We had a great summer... more often than not captured in a digital pictorial format so I am going with that and will try to use my words sparingly.

One flower two flower red flower white flower

Pink flower, blue flower old flower… new

What would my blog be without just a few

~

One sign two sign old sign bold sign

Some tell you where to go; some tell you what to know

From there to here, from here to there, interesting signs everywhere.

~

One friend two friends; straight friend gay friend

Some have two feet and some have four

My peeps, my family, my country and more

~

Where do they come from?

I cannot say.

But most have come a long, long way

~

The summer came, the summer went

A New England welcome to all was sent

So come to see us where ever we are

Where ever we are, near or far

~

Still not sure of what to think?

Then check out the pictures by following the link

http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=Tjzsr7vy-NSFNdE_E_K-V&_=1

You might be a Lezbakistanian

The other day we watched the comedy special called “Blue Collar something and something…” with Jeff Foxworthy, Larry the Cable guy, and a couple of others. Some of it was prepubescent male humor that we didn’t laugh at but some of it was darn right lyao… anyway… subconsciously it must have rubbed off on us. Because… we were driving down the highway in our RV and we saw this sign at a Golden Corral. All it said was catering available. And I instantly blurt out. If Golden Coral catered your last wedding, you might be a redneck!

Well,… that is all it takes for me to get thinking… I knew right then and there that it was a blog waiting to happen. Not the redneck part though… the “you might be” part. So for those of you that were hoping to hear about how pretty the dogwood were in South Carolina or how the morning dew glistened on the 1st Tee, will just have to wait for another blog.

This blog is call “You might be a Lezbakistanian. “ Yes dear friends, Lezbakistanian, not just lesbians. Lesbian is too general, too undefined. Lesbakistan is a country Pedro likes to call “our people”. It is loosely defined as the womyn we know… and friends of the womyn we know… and some relatives, and some neighbors, while others might be more comfortable with the term honorary Lezbakistanian. I could try to define or describe us more but I will let the blog do it for me.

• If you know how Pedro got her name… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• If you have ever worn a feather boa golfing… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• If you can name all three queens... you might be...
• If you have seen a certain County Commissioner in drag… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• If you are a Z-Ho… you are a Lezbakistanian.
• If you played dirty Santa and the top “prize” of the night is a tie between a Home Depot gift card and Ms Claus T-back panties… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• Hell… If you earned a toaster oven in Orlando “before the new millennium”… you might be a Lezbakistanian.

I could go on but I am sure some of you may have your own to share. Please feel free to add them to the comment section below or send them to me for future blog consideration.

Peace, Luv, and Marshmella Biscuitte w/2 tt’s,

barbie

A Circuitous Path through Georgia

On our way to the land of lobster… albeit a circuitous path… the destination for the summer season is Bar Harbor again this year. But the path in which many travel vicariously seems to be the one less traveled... or at least some of it.

The first stop Jekyll Island. This is a familiar stop and one well traveled… at least for us. It is our stop in which we “get fixin’, to get ready, to go.” Translation to Yankee: it is the place we go to get our minds and our rig back on the road. And of course do a little golfing. This year was no exception and we also got to witness Heather’s maiden solo voyage with her camper with Grandma in tow for moral support. You go girl! For those that have not been to JI, it is one of Georgia’s best kept secrets to get away from the crowds with ample options of fun or just chilling. It really is all good.

From there, we decided to head up into the GA hills and try another state park. We heard tell of a number of parks that have golf courses called “state resort parks” and we went off to find one. Hard Labor Park east of Atlanta and south of Athens is where we ended up. It is pretty spectacular.

Rv people notes: Water and Electric the sites are beautiful, level, and easy to get in. There are some pull thrus for those that need them but the better sites are deeper into the park and are back-in’s. Dump available. Good showers and bathrooms.

The rest of the notes: Cell service, Wi-Fi, and TV are a few miles up the road in a quaint town of Madison. The café / diner have a wonderful breakfast and is well worth venturing out to one morning. There are lakes throughout the park, 26 miles of hiking and equestrian trails. I was also surprised to find that there were campsites with the horse stables. Very cool.

The golf on the other hand is promising. The golf pro promised us birdies. We saw plenty… just not on our scorecard. For those of us used to the flat lands of Florida, the hills were challenging but great fun. We play two balls off and on the entire 18 because during the week it was not busy. And the azaleas and dogwoods blooming fulfilled the nature lover in me.

As for the name, Hard Labor State Park. My imagination conjured up visions of chain gangs and a voice in my head is saying “what we have here is a failure to communicate”… both would be my imagination at work. The truth is that it got its name by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s when they built a variety of parks in Georgia and it was the place where they hewn the trees which was “hard labor”.

So while the name is not enticing the beauty of the park is… and we’ll be back.

Peace Love and Georgia, barbie

march, marCH, MARCH!!!

At first I wasn’t sure how to feel about this Equality March in DC. I’ve done quite of few protests for various causes including Gay Rights, Women’s Rights, Lesbian Rights, Reproductive Rights, AIDS/HIV Health, blah, blah, blah… I’ve gotten a little apathetic, a little cynical, a little out of shape. My Marching muscles (both physical and mental) needed a boot camp or at least a pep rally.

Walking through DuPont Circle district on Saturday was it. Not because we walked for about a gazillion miles nor because the streets were strewn with rainbow flags or because my gaydar was beeping non-stop. The shot in my arm was that is was none of this. The shot in the arm was the normalness of the scene. The streets were filled with tourist, window shoppers, and friends laughing at cafe tables. You had to look closer to see that it was a predominantly gay crowd. This is what normal life looks like for all of us, gay or straight. We have come so far…

The next day at the March it was very much the same. Oh there were signs, and chants, and cheers for all the colorful queers… but for the most part gone were the Drag Queens, gone were Chap clad boy toys, and the radical spike dykes beating drums from previous Marches. We didn’t need those to get noticed. We are not just a fringe community with a few that feel brave enough to show our faces… we are mainstream! We are your neighbors, your bank teller, your grocer’, your pharmacist, and postal workers, all marching without the fear. We are the baby boomer survivors refusing to give up struggle… and we are the students that have picked up the torch and assumed the struggle.

One neo-nuclear family mom pushing a stroller said to me that she was marching in hopes that “her daughter would not inherit the struggle.”

The signs over head say it many ways but the message was singular. EQUALITY… EQUALITY… EQUALITY…!

And if a picture is worth a thousand words… here are a whole bunch for you. click here for my slideshow or click here for individual photos

Peace, Luv, and Equality for All, barbie