You May Play In The Dust, But Please Don't Write In It!

Yeah, it's been a while hasn't it? I supposed you have been wondering, Gentle Reader, what the flying hell happened to me.

Things to know:

1. Yes, I am still alive. I have, however, lost some close friends and family, and others close to me and the rest of the family are fighting for their lives. A lot of our time is spent helping them fight the good fight.

2. Yes, funny things still happen all around me, to me, with me and in front of me to other people. Adventures abound all around each of us, and I take pleasure in experiencing the rich wonders of life every chance I get - until some stupid asshole comes along and fucks it all up.

3. Yes, I am still teaching. Loving it, and with my new focus on writing-intensive curricula, driving my students to new heights of rancorous aggravation. (Mwahahahaha!)

4. Yes, the islands are still there, and we still scamper around in the sand every chance we get. It's rarer now, but the opportunity to go back and recharge our batteries still gets cashed in every once in a while. Here, have a picture or three as proof:


Sunrise over the Atlantic


Jockey's Ridge


AWESOME Dolphins Jumping in the Surf at Sunset!

See? The Postcards still come, they're just fewer than before. Maybe I'll get back into the habit soon. There's still plenty to talk about...

Flippin' the Bird

These things always seem to happen when I'm in the shower.

There I was, enjoying a steaming hot soak to wash away the sore muscles from yesterday's fundraisers. Yes, that's right: two fundraisers. One for The Skating Gnu's Youth Assembly and one for the Orphanage. Both were a lot of fun and wildly successful. But it was a long day. And I'm gettin' too friggin' old for long days on my feet.

I ache, therefore I soak. Ahhh......

I"m just getting ready to start the repeat cycle of lather-rinse-repeat when I hear a loud commotion from the other end of the house followed by this snippet of conversation:

The Skating Gnu: "What The FREAK!!!!"

Mrs. Gnu: "AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! SHUT THE DAMN DOOR!!"

The Skating Gnu: [Raucous laughter]

As I scramble out of the shower I consider two options:

Option A: Someone is in trouble and I may need either a weapon or a first aid kit. Or both, depending on my aim.

Option B: There's a big, scary bug in the house again and my wife is just doing her usual freak-out over it.

Option B explains the laughter from my daughter. So rather than charge in towel-clad and dripping wet to attack whatever it is that's invading my house, I opt for the more calm approach and take a moment to put on some pants and my housecoat, assuring myself that the bug can't possibly be that big and scary despite the continuing screams (and laughter) emanating from the living room.

Nope. I miscalculated a bit on this one.

I walked in to the living room, expecting to see some tiny speck crawling on the wall and instead was dive-bombed by a flying object aiming for my head, followed by another scream from The Missus, "Watch out! It's a VAMPIRE BAT!!"

After extracting myself from under the coffee table, I was able to get a closer look at my attacker: a cute little wren had somehow flown inside and was now flitting back and forth from perch to perch in search of an escape path.

Me: "A vampire bat? Really? It's a bird, you Dodo. [The pun was completely lost on the pair of them. The bird wasn't amused either.] How is it that you manage to equate 'flying animal' with something that isn't even indigenous to this continent??"

Okay, so vampire bats go as far north as Northern Mexico. That's still a three-hour jet flight away from us. No idea how that translates into unladen swallow airspeeds...

The Missus: "I don't care! It's a Pterodactyl as far as I'm concerned and it's after me! Get it out!"

Okay, fair enough. I don my best "Dragonslayer" pose and get down to business.

My big plan was to shut all the doors to the rest of the house, hang blankets in the doorways and herd the little bugger into the dining room where I could open a window and let him out.

The Missus on the other hand, surprised all of us with her ability to simplify the best laid plans of mice and men (and vampire bats) by opening the back door and standing back.

Birds apparently do a better job with the concept of open windows and doors than houseflies do: he flew right out, not missing a wingbeat. Problem solved. Now all we have to do is check the high spots in the house for bird poop. I'm too short for that job so I'm leaving it to The Missus.

In answer to the smug look on her face from her commendable application of Occam's Razor, I reminded her that, knowing my luck, if I'd been the one to open the door our bird in hand would have been joined by every bird in the bush!

Light Waves

We watched a dazzling display of natural beauty last night. No, I was not prancing around on the dunes in a kilt. Be still thy beating heart.

The waves lit up like fluorescent light bulbs, all the way down the beach. Bright blue flames that licked up and down the crashing waves as they broke along the shore like an electric pipe. It was like watching a surprise meteor shower, only this was caused by living organisms.

A type of plankton known as a dinoflagellate will occasionally bloom offshore, feeding on upwellings of nutrients from deeper water. They react to being disturbed by lighting up in an electric blue display. When they're numerous enough, they turn the water red, thus providing the origin of "Red Tide."

Last night they were numerous enough to light up the surf but not yet enough to turn the tide red. I was unable to get a picture of the show, but click here to see one photographer's achievement on the West Coast from a similar display.

Unfortunately, some species of "Red Tide" dinoflagellates are toxic, and these toxins become concentrated when ingested by clams, oysters and mussels. They tend to bloom in the Fall, which is why we have the old saying, "Never eat shellfish in a month ending in 'R'."