Heritage roses field trip

Last weekend there was a short article in our local paper about a Heritage Rose garden and rose sale that was scheduled for Memorial Day weekend.
The article said that the garden had been created by a couple who had scouted heritage roses from across the land, finding them growing beside abandoned farm buildings and against house foundations where the house had long since vanished.

This particular rose garden and rose sale was likely to be the last chance for the public to view the garden. The wife had died awaiting a heart/lung transplant. While she waited in the hospital, she had sketched plans to create a rose garden based on the plans created by Gertrude Jeckyll, (a famous name in roses...), plans that Jeckyll herself never saw realized.

There were no pictures with the news article. Just time of the sale, and location, and the belief that this was the only privately owned heritage rose garden open to the public in America.
Once the rose sale was ended, the garden would be leased to a wedding company. After that lease went into effect, I doubted people would be allowed to just wander through in the future.

But....it was a very, very hot weekend. Was I really interested in meandering through a garden in high heat and equally oppressive humidity? And what about the time and money aspect: The garden was seventy miles from our house. Going there would shoot up the better part of a day, and a good part of a tank of gas as well.

Monday gave us an opportunity to buy camera chips at a steal at our local electronic center. We decided to stop by the National Veterans Cemetery to pay our respects, then head to the store. That would put us almost half way to the rose garden....

Bernie and Laura gave in to my wishes. The drive south of Houston to the garden took us thorough farm land and tiny towns that we had never heard of.

I was totally unaware of the Town of Needville. I still don't know how it got it's name. I do now know the high school is home to the Fighting Blue Jays.

Somehow that doesn't seem like a very intimidating name for a football team...

After the wife died, her husband did create the garden she had sketched. Their tidy house is still on the grounds. He didn't name the garden after his wife, but rather after the person who inspired the garden originally.

As it turned out, there really wasn't a lot to see. It was still a rather young garden. In time the roses will climb up the poles and cover them like enormous rose hedges.

I loved that each rose was labeled with both it's name and creation date.

Mrs. Isaac Pereire was both lovely and fragrant.

Chestnut Rose...I wondered if those who fought in the War of 1812 had seen this rose and tucked a blossom into their darling's hair before they left for battle.

1927...the year my mom was born. I wonder why Robin Hood was chosen as the name of this oh so pink tiny rose? I would have named it Maid Marion instead....

The heat had curtailed the rose's flower production. There was not another soul around beside us three; it was almost a reverent experience to be walking in the garden dreamed of yet never experienced by the deceased lady. The garden was still so young but she did not get to see it built nor would she ever walk it in when it came into mature glory

The property will be lovely for weddings. A fish pond with water lillies reflected the dreamy blue sky, while the windmill lazily turned with the occasional heat relieving breezes.

Over another larger pond was a cover bridge with a pathway leading to a beautiful white gazebo surrounded by roses as well.

To the side was a chapel with a stained glass door. The room inside held two pews which would hold only two people each. A bride, a groom, a minister, and two sets of parents would be all that the room could possibly hold.

Another rose garden was beyond, an informal garden named The Mary Martha Garden.
The yellow rose above that was found in that garden was named "Mermaid"-much to mermaid collector Laura's delight. The rose was named in 1918...when the world was at war, and many were lost due to the Great Influenza outbreak of that time.

Even in war and pestilance, there was time to create beauty and tend flowers.

I confess: The tipping point for me to want to make the trip to the garden was to see this particular rose. A rose that people have enjoyed for over two hundred years!

The only blossom was sadly withered in the heat, but the bright orange rose hips and vibrant leaves still made the bush a lovely specimen.

(Above: the Mary Martha Garden)

I've been to many lush and elegant gardens and blogged about several of them. While I was walking about I wondered what I could say about this one. Would I encourage people to make the long drive to see it? Was it worth seeing at all?

In the end I wondered if I would have been more impressed if I had seen it on a brisk sunny day when the roses were covered with blossoms and sweat was not running down my brow. I probably would have been.

Still...there was something about seeing a garden built simply for the sake of love, to bring into reality the vision shared by two women, neither who had ever met, neither of whom will ever see the garden themselves, yet they will remained forever honored by those who walk about and see roses that generations that have gone before have treasured.

Like many treasures of life, the garden may not have been glorious, or breathtaking. But somehow it was still fulfilling.

PS: Seriously better pictures of the garden can be seen here on Laura's blog. Her eye and her camera...gee, her pictures just rock.

Summer Garden: Before and After

Just a few scraggly pansies were left from our January planting.

Out with the pansies, in with the zinna, pentas, inpatients, begonia, , coleus, caladium, petunia, portulaca, white Mexican heather, Mexican petunia, and a border of yellow japanese sedum.

I love it...and I hope the butterflies and hummingbirds will love it too.

You can see some close-ups of the flowers here.

Three ten year cycles

A few years back an interior designer told me that all interior decoration color schemes last about ten years, and that there are basically only three different color schemes that are used.

The first colors scheme is called Natural/Earth/Neutral tones. The years that those colors are popular find furniture, rugs and paint sticking to pallets that are beige/brown/grey/sand.

The second color scheme is called Jewel/Saturated tones: Think sapphire/emerald/ruby/rich purple,brilliant tangerine/vibrant greens and hot pinks and black accents.

The third color scheme is called Pastel/Muted tones. Think sky or dusty blue, rosy or dusty pinks and purples, sage greens, mint greens, butter yellow, apricot and peach.

The colors tend to switch mid decade, and by the time EVERYONE has those colors in the stores, the new color scheme is already showing up in the high end market. Remember too, color palettes for everything (towels, cars, fabric, dishes..) are determined five years ahead of what is seen in stores.

Also remember that Europe is ahead of the curve.

Now for fun...let's count back.

2005: Earth tones: these have been the years of granite countertops, brown or coffee colored walls and furniture, grey metals, and natural tones. This scheme just caught on a few years ago; I enjoyed watching young married bloggers paint their kitchen cabinets shade of brown and lust after granite counter tops. In other words: Earth/Natural tones.

1995 to 2005: Pastel/Muted: The hot color was sage green and soft dusty golds, soft rusty peach, butter yellow, some soft dusty aqua and soft plum. An "organic" take on Pastel/Muted colors. Many shades of beige were considered quite trendy.

1985-1995 Jewel/Saturated: Ruby red and deep burgundy, with teal greens, or deep navy blue with burgundy. I remember suddenly wanting a cranberry red sofa with big flowers and teal accents, and had to have a couch custom made. Ten years later you could find similar couches everywhere as the heavy floral and crocheted lace antique look exploded on via Victoria Magazine. Some folks went with toile, black and white rooms were quite interesting.

1975-1985: Earth tones: Macrame and baskets. Rusty orange and harvest gold, avocado appliances. Wood stains and wood panelling was cool, especially old barn siding if you were young! At the end of this time the soft blue with pinky ducks or sage green and peach desert motif came into play.

1965-1975: A bit of a mix here...some Jewel tones because of the Pop neon color movement, where hot pink, lime, orange, and purple showed up.

1955-1965: Pastels: Remember yellow, turquoise and pink bathroom fixture? Fluffy cotton candy girl's rooms? Aqua and brown and navy plaids for boys?

1945-1955: Jewels tones: Yellow, red, navy colors.

Anyway, if you want to read more about this, you can click here.
Be sure to click on color tends for 2008 to get an idea of where color is headed next.

As for me....

A trip to IKEA yesterday got my color engines all revved up.

I could so easily enjoy spending time in this yellow room!

Laura liked this room...but then again, she decorated her apartment with exactly these colors, including painting her walls that same shade of red.

Yes, as a matter of fact I would like an area rug just like this one.

I could almost go for this...the blue and neutral is certainly cool and restful.

But I'd rather be in this room right now. Color and more color! Lime and orange, navy and white. Hmmm...how odd that my first bathroom colors when I got married were exactly these same shades!

Ikea fabric is so energizing.

You can buy fabric panels that can be hung on a tension wire, and change out to suit a mood or season. Much faster than repainting, and much much faster than wall papering.

Crazy red poppy....I love it!

( I had to share the joke: the tools and repair bits are all called "Fixa". I think that is quite droll.)

How about a bright pillow on a white duckcloth couch? Hot pink today, maybe rich deep blue tomorrow. Match or cure a mood...

So here we are back home, with my 2001 purchased dusty sage sofa, with matching silk or velvet pillows, and peachy silk accent pillows, that are totally shot, but Tiggie enjoys sitting on them so we keep them.

I am sooooo bored with this.

One IKEA pillow: WHAM! Feel the energy! I'd love similar curtains, and the striped rug....
I guess I decorated originally in Pastel, passed on the Earth tones, and am now really ready for some bright punchy jewel tones.

I look around at the house, and realize...it would be more fun to just sell everything, move and start all over again.

So I went to the garden center and bought a garden full of pink and lime green colors to tide my color cravings over for now.

Have you ever seen a lassi....

Two requests of Laura's Papaya Lassi recipe! Wow!

Well, truth be told, she is just like me, and rarely uses an actual recipe. Lassi is a yogurt based drink from India. It is popular there both as a cooling drink and as a digestive aid, and is made with many variations. Lately we have just been hooked on the Mango version.

Mango Lassi

Ingredients:

3 cup plain yogurt (fat free is a great option, still tastes great!)
1 cup milk (whole, low, non-fat, whatever you've got...)
1 cup water (we prefer to use canned mango juice instead.)
1 cup mango pulp (good and ripe...)
1/4 cup sugar (or more if you want it sweeter, less for more tart.)
Dash salt
1 cup of ice

Whirl all of the above in a blender until smooth. OR if you are without a blender, stir everything except the ice together, then pour the mix over ice. We usually forget the salt...still tastes good.

I like to add a very fine light sprinkle of cardamon to the top for an exotic flavor; Laura likes finely crushed pistachios.

But wait...there's more!

Rosewater Lassi is a really unique flavored version.

2 cups yogurt or buttermilk
2 cups water
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon rose water.

Garnish with a rose petal.

I'm also a big fan of Cucumber Lassi for when I am burned out on sweet flavors:

1 cup plain yogurt
1 1/2 cup milk
1 medium cucumber, skin and seeds removed
1/2 cup sliced green onions
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon dried mint leaves, or a two teaspoons of fresh fresh mint
2 cubes ice cubes (more or less..)

Whirl in blender until smooth, makes one quart.

Obviously once you get thinking about it, you can come up with your own versions: Avocados with lime, pepper and garlic powder...strawberry.... bananas...cantaloupe...

As an added bonus: Do you remember drinking Orange Julius as a kid when you went to your local mall? French Vanilla coffee creamer added to fresh orange juice and whirled with ice will give you a beverage that is a dead ringer for the original drink. I just start with a tablespoon of creamer to a cup of juice, and regular orange juice works pretty good too. If you liked Strawberry Julius, just use strawberry juice.

I'm being summoned for a Scrabble game...gotta go...

Kicking off a three day weekend...

Recuperation has allowed me time to sit in the garden and consider what work needs to be done. Pruning the trees, an ongoing task, seemed most pressing to me. And we (well...I ) have been nothing but slothful the past few days.

We have been just watching a lot of movies lately; Greenfingers (a great Helen Mirren flick) Charlie Wilson's War (Houston story, eye crossing to know what happened back in the '80 to get us where we are today with Afghanistan) PS: I Love You (nice, but I didn't cry) and Bagger Vance (again..if you love hats, you really, really must see this flick.) I even watched a truly weird Bollywood film based on a Russian novel....hoo boy.

This morning Bernie suggested that we do tree trimming on Monday so the clippings could go out with the trash on Wednesday.

He was thinking right with that, but I was raring to make the trees look like I had envisioned, so I headed out. He and Laura followed, and took charge of the tools that were needed to make the changes needed.

I wanted all the branches that were over their head GONE. With the branches gone, it would be possible to see our neighbors lovely tree that turns yellow in the fall, and the pink flowering and blue flowering trees in their yard as well.

It is called "borrowing" landscaping.

It was so hot and steamy out that the camera kept fogging up.

Naturally Tiggie joined in. He is very fond of playing "sticks" and there sure were a lot being created here.
I accidental stepped on his tail at one point. He yowled, gave me an offended look, then settled right back into the action. Bernie found it quite challenging to drop large branches without hitting the cat.

See? Doesn't that look a lot better? Same view as the first shot....
(Notice the Faithful Orange Cat is still on duty.)

We cleared out a tree that was growing almost parallel to the ground. We had stalled on removing it because it always held one of our big bird feeders. We'll replace it with one like the one pictured above, and hang it from a shepherd's crook.

Clearing the branches out should also allow more sunlight to fall on our back lawn area. It has basically died from lack of sunlight. Strangely thought, a volunteer sunflower has bloomed in the most shaded part of the garden.

I'm thinking of scattering more sunflower seeds; the one flower looks so cheery!

I've still got to replant the garden bed. The last few years I've planted coleus; this year I have loads of volunteers. Wouldn't you know it, this year I have a hankering to plant inpatients.

For some reason this year NONE of the local nurseries are carrying inpatients!

I am getting really impatient for impatients!

After four hours of work, we were all sweaty and ready to retreat inside for a nice bison burger cooked on the barbecue (sooo much yummier than beef...) and some mango lassi (yogurt, ice, sugar and mango drink, very refreshing) and we plan to wile the rest of the day away watching a few more flicks.

Are you doing anything exciting this weekend?

Tell me about it.

It has to be more interesting than what we are doing.

I am amazed to think that this time last year I was in Switzerland; what a difference year this is!

Guest Blogger Tiggie

I got my African violets trimmed and watered yesterday. AND I made dinner: Egg salad sandwiches. On white bread.

Being on a low residue diet is so weird: all those crunchy whole grain healthy high fiber items that I have always included in my diet are off limits for now. Angel food cake, white bread, rice and noodles are required instead. Weird. This will likely be changed big time in a week or so, but for now white flour reigns.

Other household members are telling me that poultry is a necessary addition to their diet. Poultry as in the feathered babies that flicker between our tree branches and bird feeders. We are not buying into this at all.

Since I am still in low speed, I'm going to let our orange cat Tiggie, (AKA "Harper Lee", am I the only one who gets this joke?) of Tiggie FOC blog here today. As we all know, he is a cat with a lot to say. So I'm going to just let him say it today and head on back to bed.

I saw Hart loafing on the bench outside yesterday. He looked like someone had let the air out of him.

He is a great hunter, but pretty lax on keeping up with his outside snoopervising duties.

Hart is way too involved in baby bird catching. It just about wears him out racing up and leaping to the bird feeder, then running when Bernie knocks on the window and yells.

Baby birds are too easy; they sit near us and look at us like they don't know what we are. They learn though...

I personally caught a Carolina wren and brought it in to show Bernie. He was ticked off, and took the bird away from me. The dumb wren now sits on the patio chair and smirks at us.

I wasn't going to hurt it or anything; I just wanted to show Bernie that I could catch a bird if I wanted to.

I got going on my rounds..,..everything was just fine. The raccoons had stopped by and left some trash behind, but that isn't my problem.

I am allowed to hunt snakes though. Inside snakes. Ones that are knitted by Grandma, and have 'nip and crinkles and bells inside.

Man can those things fight.

I have to re-kill them every day.

Another Tiggie-Snake trophy shot.

It is a lot of work killing snakes. I always work up a bit of sweat, and my fur gets all tangled up. A nice long bath followed by a good nap makes for the perfect ending to a successful hunt.

Name That Gator

I must be doing better. Even though I am still inclined to afternoon naps from which I awaken convinced I still have an IV in my hand and side rails on my bed, small bits of grey matter are re-awakening. Part of this sleepiness is normal recovery from being sick and sleep deprived. It doesn't help that I have not had a cup of caffeinated anything for a week and half now either.

I dream of Carl Larsson paintings, which is a very pleasant thing, and consider the garden which is heavily shaded, leafed about with bushes and trees that need trimming. The temperature soars in the afternoon and I sit outside until I am warm through and through, then retreat once again to the cool interior to sip fluids and nap again.

This morning I awoke and knew the gator's name. The yet unnamed gator who slid into the oil smeared waters that are rapidly filling the Daisetta sinkhole. I could picture him in his private green swimming hole, and hoped that he was happily still splashing about.

I think his name must be "Slick."

They say I will go home today....

Whew, I never thought I'd be in the hospital for eight days with this. Today I am feeling much better. I actually got an amazing eight hours of sleep last night, uninterrupted by vigilant medical personnel.

The GI doctor said I can safely go home now. We are just waiting for the attending physician (a lung guy...go figure) to drop by and sign my release form. He could show up in the next two minutes or in four hours from now. Who knows. Doctor's rounds have their own mysterious rhythms around here. (Update: I finally got to go home at nine pm Sunday night. Hurrah!)

So we wait, read the Sunday paper, think about how today is much better than last Sunday, and are so thankful for all who prayed for my healing and the people who worked hard to care for me.

There has been no definitive label given to what has been going on with me. A scope of my colon in a few weeks will be needed. Meantime I'll just keep taking antibiotics and protonixs and eating food that is low in sediment. Please pass me the yogurt and buttermilk; aren't I just the luckiest person around... I actually like buttermilk anyway!

They say that laughter is the best medicine. I got a healthy dose yesterday when the local newspaper published the next chapter in the Diasetta Sinkhole story. The news...I laughed so hard I almost fell off the bed.


It seems a seven foot long alligator has been swept into the rapidly filling sinkhole. A "yet unnamed" alligator.

People who were working on dismantling "storage sheds that were teetering on the edge of the crater" (huh? how nuts is that?) saw the gator swimming thirty feet down from the edge of the sinkhole. Water has begun to fill the hole, water both from below the earth and from the surrounding swampy land. An alligator infested swampy land.

Naturally this concerns some people.

The water is highly contaminated with oil. Prepare yourself: the gator may get oil on his skin and eyes. And of course some folk want to see the gator "rescued."

Yeah, right. Ain't gonna happen.

The locals have been willing to admit that they have been sneaking out to the edge of the sinkhole to see the gator swimming in his own private pool. One nineteen year old woman even let the press use her name as she talked about doing such a thing.

Wonder what Bishop will be doing to her? Sure do hope she isn't packing a parasol when he catches up with her.

I can not imagine why the locals are even bothering taking a look-see. One old guy (age 74 according to the article) noted that they had a nine foot gator living right behind an old gas plant in town. Workers used to huck the the gator their left over sandwiches.

Anyway, I figure everyone needs both a laugh and something to think about. Even though there are plenty of unnamed gators around, apparently the sinkhole gator now needs a proper handle. A name to match his fame in these otherwise troubling times.

A few years back it was discovered that an alligator was living in a pond in a park in San Francisco. The local newspaper held a contest to name the critter.

You can guess the name that won, right?

It was a natural; of course he was the GOLDEN Gator.

I'm thinking hard about what they should name the Sinkhole gator. I asked my nurse Eva what name she would give the gator. Without a moment hesitation, she shot back:

"In Louisiana, they'd call him 'Dinner.''

Gal Pal Gail pointed out that since he is already swimming in oil, all they need to do is drop a match and we could have fried gator ready in a jiffy.

It must be all the meds that are slowing down my thought processes. There must be a great name for this beast. Your suggestions are needed. Like I said earlier, laughter is the best medicine. So go ahead...take your best shot at naming this critter.
If you make me laugh your payoff will be knowing you have done your part in helping this sick person feel better.

Mother's Day

Hi all. I haven't posted this week because I got very violently sick on Saturday night and was hospitalized on Sunday. My favorite Mother's Day present was a big push of Dilaudid into my IV. If you are ever in serious pain, try it...you will like it.

If I can hang onto my food for 24 hrs perhaps I can go home tomorrow. My colon is definitely goofed up. The labs results show it isn't food poisoning and two doctors hold two different opinions on what is going on. Nothing can really be confirmed until the colon heals and can be scoped.

Right now the antibiotics makes all food taste horrible, and with each bite I take I wonder if it will stay in me. I simply do not want to eat; I think I have discovered a miracle cure for appetite.

It's been a rough five days. Today is the first time I have felt well enough for B. to bring me my laptop. He has been by my side each day, and Laura has been "on call" literally as she is training out of the area. Her professional knowledge is priceless to me as it is difficult to know when to head to the Emergency room or when to ask for something different during care. (My favorite tip from her: ask for baby wipes..the hospital has them, and regular hospital tissues are really rough...)

I am praying that the colon heals super fast, and that my mouth and stomach also return to normal. I just want to be well...and go home.

Friday Afternoon Date with the Criminal Element

Yup, that's me in Daisetta Texas, home of the giant sink hole posing next to the yellow DO NOT CROSS POLICE LINE tape.

Daisetta Texas, where it was as hot as heck and where I had hoped to get a glimpse of the giant sink hole that has been so much seen on the news lately.

Lovely town....

Bernie and I headed out to Daisetta around 3:30 pm on Friday. It was a pleasant hour long drive through the country. Having a GPS guide us through the various highways and biways was most helpful.

When we pulled into Diasetta city limits, we realized that this was a really, really small town.

Population 1023 if I remember right.

The main street, named Main Street, was closed to through traffic, so we parked beside several other vehicles in an unpaved parking lot and wandered across the road to where all the television trucks were already parked.

Every sort of official vehicle was parked at various angles on the street.

Police, fire, rescue, Texas railroad commission...

That last one really made me curious.

(Bernie's ahead of me in that last shot, in the white shirt, walking along with his hands stuffed in his short's pockets.)

A quasi command station had been set up in the middle of the road.

I'm not sure what coded messages were being posted there, but everyone seemed rather laid back and calm. Right behind that booth was another tented area with stacks of water bottles, table, and several barbecue smokers.

Hmmm....a nice barbecue dinner sounded like a lovely option for sink hole viewing apres activities.

In front of the white board command center a small crowd had gathered; a group of about 20 people. They began to walk down the road in a tight group, lead by an official looking person in a uniform. Bernie and I picked up the pace and caught up with them, assuming that they were headed to the crater.

The officer stopped on the grass about a block down the road. We crowded around him expecting some kind of address. You can see the tape blocked road leading to the crater in the picture above.

I thought maybe I could get a better picture by walking down to the opening of the dirt road.

I walked a few feet that way. The officer spoke up and told me I wasn't to stand there.

Okay.

I walked back to the crowd.

I really couldn't see much. A tanker truck came driving up the dirt road and stopped. Bernie commented that the tanker must weigh a lot more than all of us, and why couldn't we step up on the curb to see better.

A guy in the crowd turned to Bernie and said "You aren't from around here are you?"

Bernie allowed that no, we were not.

The local informed Bernie that the town's officer needed very little to arrest anyone and lock them up for 48 hours, no questions asked.

Now there's Southern hospitality for ya.

The officer didn't speak again except to warn everyone to stay back.

EVERYONE was standing in the road; the yellow police tape was at least ten feet away.

I really wanted a good view of the sink hole. I walked back up the road to a place where I could see between the trees. The edge of the crater was just barely visible. I took a shot.

Notice where the police tape is.

I decided to continue walking back to the command center, and the view was a tad better from there. I stepped up onto the lawn, noting that there was a couple of people standing in the trees looking out over the sink hole. I was about three feet from the curb, which gave me an extra 8 inch or so of altitude.

I've zoomed in on this shot and cropped out the police tape.

See the two guys in the trees? The blur in the sky is the news helicopter that had been continuously circling the sink hole since we first arrived in the area.

It was at that point I heard the officer say "Lady, I'm going to ask that you be escorted out of the area."

Huh?

I looked around to see who he was talking to.

Um...that apparently would be me.

I stepped back and a police woman came right up beside me. "Escort her out of the area" the office said again. I was gently herded over to this vehicle:

Now picture this: Here I am, dressed in a nice sky blue knee length skirt, white tank top, white belt, a scarf around my neck and I am carrying my open parasol.

The police woman barely comes up to my shoulders.

"Ah, Bernie?" I called out.

"Yeah?"

"Hon, they want to escort me out of here."

Bernie loped over.

"Can I go with her?"

The police woman made eye contact with the officer.

"No."

"Can we just walk out of here by ourselves?"

A moment hesitation, then a hesitant "OK" was heard.

Whew!

My little drama seemed to put an end to the tour opportunity. Everyone began to drift back down the street, grumbling about the ultra controlling officials.

Various news cameras had tagged along, and I watched as the more "folksy" and colorful characters got singled out for an interview.

Don't you think they missed a great opportunity to interview little ol' me and the police harassment that I had suffered?

I spun my parasol lazily as I walked, careful not to walk too fast or too slow.

Just real casual like.

We walked pass this scene with a deep hole at the base of a pole? Another sink hole?
No, a local informed me. It was Liberty counties (censored) idea of a drainage ditch.

Oh. Apparently most of the folks were not overly fond of the local government.

I paused to watch the ABC news guy practice his report, barely audible over the roar of the helicopter overhead. I did catch that the town was asking the governor of Texas to declare the town a disaster area.

Not to be unkind...there's not a lot to the town to begin with. Lots of boarded up buildings and such...

The news truck parked on a lot on

Main Street.

Our car...and another Main Street building.

Maybe the sink hole would be like the old joke about Alabama hurricane damage:

It did a half million dollars worth of improvements to the area.

I never thought of myself as a rabble rouser, or as person that would ever be needed to be run out of a town via police escort.

Secretly I almost hoped I could have gotten the ride. I've never have had a ride in a police car before. And as Laura always says: If you are ever in a police car or an ambulance, ask that they turn on the siren. Get the whole experience, get all the bells and whistles!

Now I will always wonder what could have happened it I had gotten in the car and asked for the siren to wail.

Maybe me and my parasol would have made national news!

Bernie and I headed out of town after that.

I tried to think who I could of called to make bail for us if we had been locked up.

That is the problem with not having very many face-to-face friends.

Gail said she would have wired me bail money.

She is a really good friend. In fact she said she would of wished that she could have been there in there with me!

Now here's be the best two parts:

A video with the law enforcement officer (Hu8gh B8ishop) who booted me out of the area.

And better....

This video of the man talking to MSNBC.

Oh my!