Let's Do

the Time Warp

Again!

Every time I go home, I feel I'm visiting an alternate dimension. (Cue theme music)

It is difficult for me to define home or to pinpoint home to a specific location. I'm at "home" now, kinda. I was at "home" last weekend in the same kinda fashion. My family no longer has a family home. When I come home for a visit, I really never know where I'll be sleeping, or with whom I'll be staying. For example, when my mother picked me up from the airport (generous creature that she is) she very frankly said, "I don't know where you'll be staying while you are here. There is no room at my place. Maybe you can stay with your brother." She went on to inform me that his house was a wreck, and because of of recent power outtage while he was away, all of the food in the refrigerator and freezers ruined and the place still reaked. Yes, my brother is hosting my, and, yes, it did reak. Although, either I'm getting used to the smell, or it is diminishing.

At my brother's home, there is no working telephone or cable tv. There is, however, high-speed internet. I really have no excuse for not responding to email or posting regularly on my blog except for the fact that I'm preparing to make all the arrangements to move to Uganda for the next two years. No big deal.

I spent the weekend with a friend in the town where I grew up. I'm from a very rural community in Northwest Florida called White City. The first word of the name is a fairly accurate adjective, but the second word is a complete misnomer considering the fact that the population has never exceeded 300. We have one country store with one functioning gas pump. Our claim to fame is a bridge crossing the Intercoastal Waterway. If you try and find White City on Google Earth, it will take you to play about 12 miles too far north. They call the commuinty Bayless Bridge. I have no idea where that name came from. No one in the area has ever heard it either. I asked them this weekend.

I have no love in my heart for White City, but I have a deep love for many of the people who still live there, despite the fact that they do not have internet access. I passed six days at my friend Holly's home, and I could not even check my email. I had withdrawal at first, but I soon made peace with the idea of not going online; it was quite rustic. White City is just a stone's toss from Port St. Joe and Mexico Beach. We spent Sunday enjoying the natural beauty of the area, soaking up the sun and cooling off in the water that is much more beautiful since they shut down the paper mill a few years ago.


I've been to beaches all around the world, and I can say with no hesitation that you will not find more beautiful beaches than the ones we have on the Florida Panhandle. You might find more appealing water, but the beaches are some of the best.

I'm always up for new experiences. I at gator tail for the first time at the Dockside Cafe. I cannot say that I loved it. It was like really chewy chicken with an essence of fish. Hmmm...

I grew up with a huge swamp in my back yard, so my little brothers used to bring home alligator all the time. You had to be careful when opening up ice chests in the backyard. They often contained all sorts of aquatic surprises. They used to fry up gator tail in the kitchen in my mom's cast iron pans. In my "high and mighty" days, I was so opposed to this. Mainly because it was illegal, but also because I was not a big fan of hunting any animal. In protest, I would never try their game. Well, alligator can now be legally hunted with a permit, and gator tail is becoming a common menue item.

In other news, I went to Wal-Mart last week for the first time since I got back. Nicole, guess what I found:



I thought about you.
Oh, Samoa...
KS on a weeknight.

You up for a Will & Grace marathon anytime soon?