ALIVE FOR NOW

Whew! So far the 1000 ft tidal wave traveling 1000 mph hasn't claimed me, nor have I burned up in a gigantic solar flare. -- But that doesn't mean it still won't happen! The psychic couple I knew did say the polar shift would occur on an INEXACT date... I just hope I'm already dead from natural causes by then. I'm over 60, so that could be any day now.

If the shift happened, my dear friend Rose & I had decided to meet for Christmas on Mars. Rose thought Venus might be more appropriate because we are both women. But from what I've heard, the surface sounds too much like Hell; flames & molten lava and all that!

Besides, I've always felt that I lived on Mars in a previous incarnation eons ago. -- Hey, you don't really think Earth is my 1st rodeo, do you! Well, neither was Mars! Back in 1987, on a visit from the elderly psychic couple, they made me stand in different directions with my arm extended until I felt a magnetic sensation in my hand. They said it connected me to my home planet, beyond the Milky Way. The spot was marked with tape on the floor so I could find it again.

I don't know if any of that is true, but I would like to believe it is. They swore my home planet is everything I hoped it would be. It's the place I go between lifetimes. But I can't get there by way of suicide. -- Bummer!

Fortunately, I'm not ready for the trip, yet. I want to turn 62 in January! There is so much unfinished business here. So many things I'm looking forward to in the near future.

After the holidays, Rose & I will get together for lunch, probably at The Patio restaurant. They have the best Creme Brulee I've ever tasted! Also I'm really excited about the new book coming out later in 2013. And I've got ideas for another one after that!

Since the Earth wasn't destroyed this holiday season, my friend will enjoy Christmas with her family in Texas. And I'll celebrate here, with my beautiful tree in the home I love.

SAVORING THE LAST DAY ON EARTH

The dreaded date of Dec. 21, 2012 long prophesied as the end of the world as we know it, is rapidly approaching.

A lady I know has a birthday on that date. -- At least she won't have to worry about getting any older! (hee hee) She complained that no one could come to her birthday celebration because they're all attending End-of-the-World parties.

Well, I'm going to have my own private celebration here. Except mine will be the day before! I'm really nervous about the Dec. 21 date. Watching all those Apocalyptic specials on the History & National Geographic Channel is enough to give you sheet-chewing night terrors!!!

On a bright summer afternoon when I was 6 yrs. old, a family friend from out of state came for a visit. (Someone my father called a nut.) As we sipped our tea, he casually informed us that the world was coming to a fiery end in my lifetime. Humankind would be forced to start all over again.

I was terrified! I became obsessed with this... Then I started to wonder if it had all happened before. Perhaps there had been other advanced civilizations before us! In my teens I heard of the legendary continents of Atlantis and Lemuria. I was intrigued by them and learned everything I could.

During my mid-30's, I became friends with an elderly psychic couple. They claimed that most of us had existed in both places at least once in previous lives. These continents actually had more advanced technology than we do today. But their devices turned against them and everything was destroyed. All because they became corrupt and their technology exceeded their spiritual development. -- It sounds a bit too familiar for comfort when I look at our world today.

Back in 1987, this couple accurately predicted events in my life. Events that are happening right now! But most disturbing, they claimed there would be a polar shift early in the next century. It would change the entire face of the map. One of the signs would be frequent extremes in the weather. -- This is why I am more than a bit concerned! However, they did say it would be an INEXACT date. I find that only of mild comfort.

I can't help but snort with laughter at the doomsday prep crowd. If there is a polar shift, they are going to die just like the rest of us. No place on earth will be safe! Even if there are survivors, I wouldn't want to be in the world remaining, certainly not at my age!

Just in case, I'm planning to enjoy my Christmas early on Dec. 20. (Bet'cha I'm not the only one!) I'm going to eat everything I love and watch as many of the 80 movies on my DVR as I possibly can! My only regret is that I didn't buy a TV with an 80 inch screen. I can't really afford it, but hey, it's not like I'll be outliving my money. -- I want to die as I lived, alone and happy!

Of course I'm hoping it's all baloney. I'm enjoying my life now more than ever! Plus I have a new book coming out in 2013. I'm already writing promotional speeches for the local business networking events.

To all my friends reading this, if the Mayan calendar proves correct, see you on the other side Dec. 22!

O' CHRISTMAS TREE DON'T FALL ON ME

I spend the entire day after Thanksgiving erecting my Christmas tree. It's a huge artificial one and a big job for a single person. I place it atop a small but sturdy table with a foot high angel on top. I need that height because of my cathedral ceiling. So I'm forced to do lots of balancing on a ladder and that always makes me nervous. I've had a few close calls that made me cuss like a cable TV star. Several times I swore that would be the final year! However, when I view the end result, it always seems worth the trouble. It just wouldn't feel like Christmas without that tree!

For awhile now, the trend seems to be all white lit trees. This is what my neighbors have displayed in their windows every year. When I was growing up, only dentist offices and other commercial buildings had that kind. Only colorful lights go on my tree, they just look more festive.

A Christmas tree in November is too soon for many people, but I have longer to enjoy it. -- And enjoy it I do! During the holidays I take all my meals on the formal table under the chandelier, and that includes breakfast. There, I have a magnificent view of the tree. I get up at 6:00 AM while it's still pitch dark. My lighted tree looks especially lovely. The sun is just beginning to rise as I start the dishes.

The saddest day of the year is the one after New Year's, because the tree comes down. It's also the most hazardous! I'm back to balancing on that ladder. Plus the tree snaps together far easier than it pulls apart. I've experienced a number of casualties and learned the hard way to remove anything breakable in the surrounding area, except for perhaps myself.

A former neighbor with whom I had more than a waving acquaintance, enjoyed a glorious view of my tree from her house. She told me how much she and her husband miss it after it's gone. I told her I was getting older and didn't know how many more years I'd be up to the job. I expected her to say, "Hey, Leo & I are just next door give us a call if you need help!" Instead, she glanced at my tree and with a sigh replied, "Oh it looks like you've got it down to a science." -- A couple years later, she hinted that she wanted my help moving to another house. I just ignored her.

My friend Pat, up in north part of the state, suggested that I just leave my tree up all year. "You're alone," she reminded, "you can do things like that!"

If my house was more isolated, I might consider it. However, my neighbors already think I'm strange, I don't want to do anything more to feed into that. Also, I want my Christmas seasons to feel special, even if it involves risking my life and property.

THE NEIGHBOR SHUFFLE & ROULETTE

Just last month, I found myself between new neighbors on both sides. I live in a subdivision outside the city limits. Up until 1960, my family moved around a lot. After coming to Florida in 1952, we settled briefly in the boonies. Shortly after, we became friendly with a widow & her daughter several miles down the highway. Both became as close as family. This relationship lasted thru several of our moves, including one to another town.

Here, on my little half acre lot surrounded by neighbors, I have nothing beyond a waving acquaintance with any of them. I love my house, but I never wanted to be a part of a neighborhood again after leaving our river front home Stuart.

During the last 10 yrs., we endured more serious problems with neighbors there than the previous 29! However, the neighborhood started to dramatically change in the late 70's as the wealthier people began to move in. Our property taxes began to climb, eventually forcing us out.

You can't control who moves in next door or what they do with their property, even if it affects you directly. If you are fortunate enough to have a great neighbor at some point either they are going to move or die off. -- As to what you get next, it's always a gamble!

Here, the neighbors were far friendlier when my father was alive. Well, they sure distanced themselves fast after he died! Even my father would have been shocked!

Friends tell me it's because I'm a single woman. I'm inclined to agree. Married women seem to think I want to seduce their ugly husbands. Some are almost paranoid about it! Therefore the husbands are unfriendly because they don't want trouble with their wives.

Never mind that I am significantly older than most of them. Knowing the nature of men, I can't imagine a man leaving a young wife for a woman of my years, no matter how well preserved. Unless of course the old woman has a boatload of money. And I do not fit into the later category! -- It must be awful to be that insecure in your marriage!

My close friend Margaret, (a former professional dancer) kept her shapely figure into her 80's and dressed in trendy clothes right to the end. She lived in a place with those of similar age and was avoided like a disease! I remember her telling me about an experience with a new next door neighbor. While walking her little Yorkie, she introduced herself to him as he worked in his front yard.

"You'll have to come to our next barbecue," he told her. "I cook the most delicious burgers you'll ever taste!"

Two weeks later, she watched from her porch as one neighbor after another showed up for the barbecue. "My feelings were hurt!" Margaret exclaimed. "No one invited me!"....Later, she approached her neighbor and asked why she wasn't invited.

"Talk to my wife about it," he replied.

Oh I can relate to so many of her experiences!

Neighborhoods are a lot like High School. You have the popular people, their ass kisser wannabes, and the outcasts in the margins. -- Anyone seen as different or unusual is shunned.

After we put our house up for sale, I told my father I didn't want any neighbors in socializing distance! My father insisted it was too dangerous. We needed neighbors for safety, especially me, since he was getting old and I would soon be alone.

Geez, if someone murdered me with a hammer, my neighbors wouldn't know until they heard it on the evening news. They probably wouldn't even remember who I am. -- That's why I booby-trap the inside of my house and keep weapons (gun, knives, a baseball bat & a pair of handcuffs) hidden various spots in my bedroom.

I'd rather have taken my chances living alone in some remote area. As far as I'm concerned, the best neighbors are trees!

CLOUD ATLAS YOU'RE ALL WET

Recently, I saw the movie CLOUD ATLAS. I enjoyed it, although I found it too long and too fragmented. The amazing make-up on the actors and their transformations alone, made it worth seeing.

I think the premise had to do with reincarnation and how we are all interconnected, because love transcends death. -- Well that's just a load of bull! -- Whatever love there was in my family didn't even survive this lifetime!

I'm a believer in reincarnation, but I've never believed human beings are intrinsically good. There is too much evidence to the contrary!

Of course the role of religion is to get people to behave by scaring them with a hellish eternal punishment or promising a big payoff in the hereafter. Otherwise, I guess most wouldn't even try!

At least with karma, lessons can be learned over time. Eventually souls can be cleansed and move on to a higher level. I've been told by those in the know, that people come back in clusters. We are surrounded by the same group each time. -- I find that thought truly distressing! Oh God, please, I want a different cluster!!! Also I don't want to be reunited with any of those people in death.

Several decades back, I saw a TV interview with Bette Davis on 60 MINUTES. Now I have never been a fan of Ms. Davis either as an actress or a person. Usually she turns me off big time! But she said something quite profound, that I've always remembered. To paraphrase her, "Given enough time, any relationship will break down. What is truly important in life is the body of work we leave behind." When you stop to think about this, it's true! Although we are brainwashed to think the opposite.

I know so many women who feel diminished if they are not in a relationship with a man. -- I've always felt more empowered! The happiest and most fulfilling days of life emerged when I became one hundred per-cent alone. The men who wanted a relationship with me seemed too much a stifling extension of my parents. I felt suffocated! I'm free at long last to make my own mistakes, rather than be forced to live with the consequences of someone else's.

There's a true story about a fellow in a hospital bed who opened his eyes and saw all his dead relatives gathered around him. He sat up and hollered, "Get the hell away from me! I'm not going anywhere with you!" -- My sentiments exactly!

In my version of Heaven, I'll be one hundred per cent alone. My real friends can visit from time-to-time. But mostly, I want solitude, surrounded by beautiful nature and animals.

ISSUES & BOO HOO TISSUES

My group therapy sessions were now going along especially well. I was in with a group of women I call my sisters-in-spirit. An overwhelming majority of us were raised by abusive, controlling parents with Hyde & Jekyll personalities. We all related and no one was judging.

Our therapist Marcia, told us many people were simply unable to comprehend a group like ours. In other words, most of society! Here, I was finally among people with whom I felt completely comfortable. We all sat around a long U-shaped table. The therapist's chair was in the open space.

Marcia placed a large box of Kleenex on the table to be passed around when needed. We were there to support each other emotionally. Marcia criticized me because I never cried.

"I want to see you cry, Dianne!" were words she often repeated.

By this point in my life, I felt all cried out! Anger had taken over, I oozed venom; all directed toward my parents & step-mother. Plus I felt a great deal of self-loathing for not finding a way to escape them. They just all died off.

Marcia drew a crude sketch of me on the blackboard, shackles around my ankles tied to gravestones. She said I needed to grow wings. -- They would have been useless! I really needed a pair of bionic legs!

Once, as homework, I was given a writing assignment to imagine my ideal birthday with my mother. -- My birthday was NEVER acknowledged when I was a small child. (I wrote of this in a previous blog.) I could not even begin to imagine my mom in this role. Instead, I imagined one of the ladies in therapy as my mother. I wrote from this perspective.

The class delighted in my story! Marcia began giving me other writing assignments to vent. To my surprise, the group greatly enjoyed them all. But then, I was a graduate of several creative writing courses. I admitted that I was a failed writer. However, the reaction of the group gave me new hope to return doing what I loved.

I seldom received positive reinforcement for anything before. My mom and step-mother considered it babying. Marcia said it wasn't babying, it's a basic need. -- One of the ladies pointed out how both women had shamelessly babied my dad!

Here, I was finally forced to face my father's psychological abuse as well. Something of which I had long been in denial. Previous therapists tried to touch on this, but I fought it! I made it clear I wasn't going to criticize my dad. In my mind, he had been the good parent.

But he grew more and more ugly to me in words and actions as time passed, escalating in his senior years. I figured it was just part of the aging process. Marcia explained that most people manage to grow old without becoming mean and abusive.

My eyes were opened as to how I was undermined in subtle and not so subtle ways. If you truly care about someone, you do not methodically destroy all their sense of confidence and self-worth in order to control them. Everything I learned in therapy was highly illuminating.

I decided to return to my writing. Something my father always called, "a fantasy!" I now had the green light from the universe. And I would use my dad's money to make my fantasy a reality! It didn't matter if I never became a best-selling author. It was what I enjoyed, as well as therapy.

HAPPY TOFURKEY DAY

DELAYED DUE TO COMPUTER ISSUES!

This Thanksgiving, I was invited to join friends for dinner at a restaurant over on the beach. However, I had already bought and planned my holiday meal. And I can't count on my old garage freezer to last much longer.

Last year, the day before, an elderly man in one of those motorized scooters tried to pick me up at Walmart. I was scanning the frozen food section for side dishes when he drove by. He stopped to tell me that I was very pretty. I thanked him and we started to talk. He invited me to have Thanksgiving dinner with him in his home, just the 2 of us. I politely refused. That day I happened to be wearing one of my French berets with the nipple on top. -- Those seem to really excite men of a certain generation!

Any holiday alone is a great one. I've had too many previous ones ruined by other peoples' antics and drama. Now they are custom-tailored just for me. So I'm getting out my elegant lace tablecloth and fancy dishes. I'm moving to the big formal table under the chandelier. Also I will light my pumpkin-spice & vanilla scented candles.

I decided I am finally going to cook a Tofurkey. I'm what you call a semi-vegetarian. I won't eat anything with fur, or anything considered mammal for moral and ethical reasons. I'd feel like a cannibal! I do however eat fish & fowl. Truthfully, I hate most vegetables. A platter of salad is tantamount to lawn clippings as far as I'm concerned. But I've been eager and excited for the Tofurkey experience, a more humane choice. It comes stuffed with brown rice & whole wheat bread cubes, vegetarian gravy is included.

Preparing this thing sounds almost as big a pain as cooking an actual turkey. It needs defrosting the night before and takes 1 entire hour & 30 minutes to cook. (When I'm hungry I want my meal in 6 min. or less!) It bakes in a casserole dish along with other vegetables. I'm adding small potatoes & mushrooms. I've also got a squash souffle I can cook in the microwave. For dessert, I'm having a cranberry scone. There will be enough food for about 3 meals. I can freeze the rest for later.

Last year, after my feast, I watched the 1975 film BARRY LYNDON. It was over 3 hrs. long! In 1976 I was touring Ireland. Our guide pointed out spots where scenes from the movie had been shot. I planned to see it after I returned home. I never imagined it would take me 35 years! So finally seeing this film felt kind of special.

Occasionally, I do watch something besides flesh-eating zombies & psycho killer clowns.

This Thanksgiving, I plan to watch the 3 hr. long 1960 movie LA DOLCE VITA (The Sweet Life) I've always loved the title. It's taking me 52 yrs. to get around to viewing this one. I was 9 when the movie was released. Only 1 week before Thanksgiving 1959 my family moved to our new home on the river. My life there was hardly sweet.

Now that I am alone, I revel in the holidays! Each and every one, I savor as precious.

STRESS, ANXIETY, DEPRESSION 101

I had just endured 2 serious hurricanes and their aftermath, lost a staggering amount of money in investments, plus I was literally being haunted by a ghost. I was freaking out and didn't know where to turn for help.

Then I read in the newspaper that the Mental Health Association was starting a free therapy group for stress, anxiety, & depression. Since I suffered from all 3, I phoned to register.

I was the first to arrive. The therapist was a divorced, middle-aged mother I'll call, "Marcia". I explained that I was uncomfortable speaking in public. Then I watched as 20 people came; 2 men, 18 women. The room was small and crowded. Marcia made me speak FIRST! -- I've always wondered if that was strategic & Marcia hoped I'd never return! -- I'll never forget the way she stared when she first saw me. Anyway I was brief, as were many.

Then, oh my God, we came to the man in the middle! He began spilling his entire life story starting with intimate details of his childhood right through his recent messy divorce. (I wondered if he thought this was private therapy!) Soon we only had 10 minutes left and half the group had yet to speak.

I kept looking up at the clock and over at the therapist trying to drop hints. I kept expecting her to say, " Wrap this up buster, we're running out of time!"

"Oh how wonderful you're able to open up and share like that!" she enthused. -- After the guy had wasted over 45 minutes of the hour, leaving many unable to speak.

The following session, we were split into 2 groups meeting on different days. Each group had one man. And wouldn't you know mine would end up with the drama king! It soon became clear that he was the therapist's favorite. Often, she would remark how he added a special energy to the class, even going so far as to refer to him as "The Crown Jewel" of the group. Obviously, she was smitten.

The drama guy was far from handsome. In fact, he bore a striking resemblance to Dilbert's boss in the funny papers. However, he did own a high end business, which can make a homely man a whole lot more attractive. Marcia was a good therapist once you got her attention away from this guy.

Also in the group was a recent widow, "Grace," who was extremely attractive. Soon she and the drama king began to date.

We were given a text to study with homework assignments. Marcia said the group would shrink as the weeks passed. This was true, Grace disappeared, but the man remained.

As we discussed our written lessons individually, others were allowed to interject and share. To my constant irritation, the crown jewel kept commandeering everyone else's time with his sharing. He always turned everything around and made it all about himself, to the applause of our therapist.

I was the only woman there who stopped him in his tracks and returned the conversation to me. In fact, I even stepped in and usurped some of his time. Needless to say, he didn't like me and I was constantly shot dirty looks by this guy.

After 12 weeks this particular class came to its end. I registered for the next. To my surprise and delight, the same group returned, minus the reigning crown jewel.

Several years later, I was a guest of my friend Irene at one of her Military Ladies Luncheons. Across the room I recognized another guest, Grace from therapy. I asked her why she stopped attending.

"It was the therapist," she stated. "Marcia phoned and told me not to come anymore, she didn't want to council a courting couple. Plus she felt HE was too fragile to be in a relationship right now."

"Marcia probably had designs on him herself. I've always had my suspicions about this," I admitted.

"I got that vibe, too," Grace replied. She went on to say the relationship had been over for some time.

I told her she deserved better. Had I been the guy's wife I would have left him, too!

Without the drama king, the class had an entirely different, more positive, and healing atmosphere. Plus Marcia now came across as a more professional therapist.

VOTE FOR THE SMALLEST PIECE OF EXCREMENT

Back when I was much younger, I knew those who couldn't wait to turn 21 so they could walk into a bar and buy a legal drink. I've never understood the appeal of alcohol! Geez, nerd that I am, I was far more excited about casting my first vote!

I wanted to register as an Independent, but my father cautioned that it would lock me out of the primaries and they were too important to dismiss. He said it would be wise to choose a party, it didn't mean I had to vote their way.

My father was not the type to get passionate about any party or candidate. He swore there were no good guys in politics. Just the very nature of it attracts the wrong sort of people. They were all beholden to special interests rather than the public. I am inclined to agree! He used to tell me that you should always vote AGAINST people and never for them.

For some reason, I had always liked Nixon. Perhaps because his birthday fell the day after mine. Plus he had that avuncular quality. Yes, I know it's shallow. But remember I was just 21. Anyway, that's how I became a R.I.N.O. (Republican In Name Only) and I am one to this day.

Now I take voting far more seriously. I do it by absentee ballot, along with lots of research. I want to see things change. Thank goodness we don't live in 1776 anymore!

In the past, it was not unusual for me to vote Libertarian or Green. I was a big supporter of Ross Perot and Ralph Nader. On rare occasions I've even voted for a Republican president. My vote went to Ronald Reagan in 1980, only to lose my C.E.T.A. job shorty after. Thanks to Reagan, it was denied funding. I was left unemployed for a long period. I always seemed to get screwed one way or another when a Republican gets into office.

Yet, I really wanted John McCain to get the nomination back in 2000. I was ready to vomit when George Bush got it instead. I will never understand how that jerk was able to get into office once, much less a second term. The idiot destroyed our economy! And don't forget all the lives and limbs cost with his trumped-up war in Iraq, a personal vendetta to avenge his daddy! Of course Cheney had more nefarious reasons. Both of them should be spat upon in the streets!

2008 I felt John McCain was by now too old for the job. With his hot temper, I worried he'd have a heart attack and die in office, or get us into another war. Plus he admitted he had no head for economics which happened to be our no. 1 problem. Good grief!

At first glance, I thought Barrack Obama was too far left.

I mentioned to my Russian seamstress that I didn't care for either candidate. She replied, "My mother always told me that when you're given a choice between 2 pieces of (expletive deleted) you always choose the smaller one." -- My father & her mother thought much alike!

I had been leaning toward Obama. Then McCain chose that woefully unqualified woman as his running-mate. I was convinced he'd gone senile! Goofy from Disneyland would have been a better choice. That pushed me into the Obama camp.

The more research I did on Obama, the more I was impressed. Plus I think America should hang its head in shame because we don't have affordable health care for all our citizens. I whole-heartily support Obama care. This is a wonderful thing! We are evolving as a society.

Now we have the Tea Party (urp!) whose motto should be, BACKWARD! They seem to be the controlling force in the Republican party, along with the big corporations and Grover Norquist. The fact that any politician would sign a loyalty pledge to this individual against the best interests of the citizens of this country should be a big red flag that they are no good!

I live in a predominately Republican area where the Tea Party is highly popular. The opinion section of the local newspaper is constantly filled with raving, frothing, hate-mongering letters damning Obama.

Only a few months after his election, numerous letters appeared reviling him for not getting our economy back on track. Do these nitwits think the man is a sorcerer with God-like powers? -- Oh I forgot, they actually do! Since many believe he's the Antichrist. Geez, what can you expect from religious cuckoos and others who actually think FOX has fair and balanced news.

It is ironic that I am registered with the party for which I have the least amount of respect. Fortunately, as a R.I.N.O. I can sabotage the Republicans from within. My votes are always strategic.

I love the fact our president has Donald Trump running scared and quaking under his silly-looking hair. There must be a reason he's so desperate. This man should be investigated!

Barrack Obama is the true epitome of the American success story. He's the poor boy who worked hard and grew up to be the president. Unlike Mitt Romney who is just another grown-up little rich boy. He is clueless as to how the average person lives.

I've already mailed in my absentee ballot. Just like that other evil socialist Betty White, I voted for Obama!

A TRUE OOGA BOOGA OCCURENCE

New Year's night 2005, my home was still broken and battered from the 2 September hurricanes of 2004. The majority of contractors & handymen had still not returned my calls. It had been a trying and depressing holiday season.

The night before had been New Year's Eve which I never celebrate. But the noise and fireworks in the neighborhood had kept me awake. So this night I was really sleepy and decided to retire early.

As usual, I walked into the kitchen for one last drink of water. A familiar scent hit my nostrils! My father had a distinctive body aroma that became more pungent with age and illness. That night it was nearly over-powering! My father had been dead several years.

I began sniffing around the kitchen trying to figure out from where it was emanating. I couldn't understand why I had not noticed it before. Tired, I decided to investigate further in the morning.

Shortly after falling asleep, I experienced the most disturbing dream ever! My father was calling my name. All of a sudden, I found myself surrounded by incandescent light with my dad. A feeling of elation swept over me! I felt my spirit dancing inside this brilliant glowing luminescence. -- Until he spoke!

"The previous owner wants the house back," he told me sternly. "Everything will go back to the way it was in Stuart." His demeanor was austere.

I was confused. I told him there was no way that could happen since I have no mortgage.

"That doesn't matter." He shook his head. The dreaded words were repeated. His countenance was grim.

The next morning, I awoke with a feeling of distress. My dream had been so vivid! The strong scent in the kitchen was gone. But I would get whiffs of it in other rooms at different times.

Shortly after my father's passing, the living room fan often started spinning by itself, (when turned off)  no breeze or draft from anywhere. It NEVER did that while he was alive!

About a month later, my friend Irene & I went to a psychic fair. Since I believe in reincarnation, I requested a psychic who could give me info on my past lives. As we seated, the psychic pointed directly at me. "Your father has been visiting you and you've smelled him," she said. (My jaw dropped!) "He has a message for you in a dream," she continued. "Be on the watch."

Now I was expecting another dream, one with a more positive tone. I was in denial about the first. Well, none was forthcoming! Apparently the negative warning was it!

I mentioned all of this to my friend, Margaret.

"You've got a demon," she stated, "because your father would never say anything like that to you."

I told her if it was a demon, it had better stuff itself into the ass of a fly and buzz out of here, because I would never live with a demon! I'd move heaven & earth to get that thing out of my house! Also, my memory was jogged, it was exactly the kind of thing my father would say to me!

Shortly after, I lost a whopping 60 Grand in G.M. Bonds. Now I was convinced my father's words were coming true, and I would soon lose my home! I was emotionally devastated! My anxiety attacks returned to the point that I had to join a therapy group.

I found it curious this happened after I reached a point where I was beginning to move forward with my life, and happily so. Why was my dad trying to drag me back to a time I struggled so hard to escape. A time I was so miserable I thought constantly of suicide! He should have been cheering me on! His message, was not one of love, but control. Was he the previous owner who wanted the house back?

I became furious at my father! Whenever I sensed him around, I asked him why he was haunting me. Was it to escape those 2 bitches he married, now dead as he. And why the hell didn't he warn me not to sell the G.M. Bonds?! Ugh! He could have spared me so much grief!

I felt as though I was being punished for moving on and being happy! I expected him to say he loved me and was proud of me. Instead, I was coldly informed he wanted his house back!

Another year passed, another psychic fair came to town. I arrived just as they were setting up. I got a different psychic this time. I told her everything that had happened and how disappointed and angry I had been with my father.

"It's HIS issue, not yours," she explained. "It's crucial that you close the past in order for positive events to enter your life. -- Almost the exact words from my therapist in group sessions.

The psychic asked if I was a writer. Embarrassed, I explained that I had given up. I had been so unsuccessful, I felt I wasn't talented enough. My father always called my writing career, "a fantasy". Both my mother and step-mother constantly told me I wasn't smart enough.

"Start again," she replied. "It's what the universe intended for you."

A REVERSE VIEW OF THE WORLD

I was myopic, or near-sighted since the age of 16. Anything beyond arm's length looked blurry. An optometrist said this was only a temporary condition. He was right. It only lasted 39 years.

Nobody, especially a teenager wants to wear glasses. This was my geeky-looking stage, too. My natural blonde hair had darkened to the color of dead leaves. And worse, my nose suddenly reached its full growth before the rest of my face caught up. In those days the only styles available were the ones with cat-eye frames. By process of elimination, I picked out a light-blue pair. I wore them home.

The first words out of my mother mouth were, "They don't look good on you."

I angrily told her I couldn't read the blackboard! I suppose she'd rather I continue to fail everything!

On my first Report Card in High School I got 5 D's! -- But I did get a C plus in English! (A future writer was born!) Truth be told, I was never a good student. My father used to joke that Dianne thinks the alphabet begins with a C.

I wore my glasses only when seated at my desk, or the teacher was speaking. I didn't need them for reading, writing , or other close work. Once, a few bespectacled students walked over and welcomed me to the 4-eyes club.

Wearing them on dates or other social occasions was never a problem for me, because I never had any. This was true until well into middle age.

Although in my 20's I was traveling to Europe and other exotic places almost every year. Thankfully the styles had changed by then! I had cooler-looking frames as well as prescription sunglasses. I considered contact lenses, but discarded the idea as soon as I learned I would require glasses for reading.

In my 40's, lasik surgery became popular, but the price was too prohibitive for me. Besides, the procedure was scary. Should a nurse pinch the doctors behind during surgery, I'd end up sporting a permanent eye patch!

As I neared 50, I got my driver's licence. Around that time, came miraculous soft contact lenses that let you see both near & far. Of course I bought a pair!

Frustratingly, it took me nearly an hour to put them in my eyes. They stuck to my fingers far better than my eyeballs. If I happened to get make-up or a stye under them, my eyes burned and watered like crazy!

More than once, as I drove in heavy traffic, a lens would roll up under my eyelid. In a panic, I would have to blink it down while navigating the car. Suffering from anxiety attacks, I was already a risk on the road! I decided to stick with glasses that had flattering frames.

Meantime, my close vision was starting to deteriorate. Reading and close work suddenly became fuzzy. I was forced to buy reading glasses, or cheaters as we old folks call them.

In 2004 came the 2 back-to-back hurricanes and weeks spent navigating in darkness. I don't know if there was a connection, but almost immediately afterward, I became FAR-SIGHTED!!! I could actually distinguish leaves on treetops in my neighbors yard! --This had been impossible for nearly 4 decades! It was like a MIRACLE!!! And best of all, I no longer required glasses for driving or watching TV.

The optometrist told me this wasn't at all unusual, she called it "Second Sight". (I always thought that meant you saw dead people!) She also said this condition was "temporary". But I'm hoping it will last until I'm a spook myself. Because being myopic was the next thing to being blind!

THE NOT SO HANDY MEN

Hiring a handyman under the best of circumstances is often a pain. Usually, I go down a list of numbers in the phone book or newspaper leaving messages on answering machines. Only half return my call, two thirds of those agree to come out and give me an estimate. Half of them don't keep the appointment. And should I hire one, there is a fifty-fifty chance they will not show up. And worse they never bother to call, letting me wait and wonder, wasting my time. Other single women claim the same problem.

One even stated on his answering machine that if he didn't find the job interesting, he wouldn't bother returning my call. I left no message, I just hung up!

I've been told that Florida handymen can cherry-pick their jobs due to the many senior citizens here and all the new people moving down. They can always find work, few are interested in repeat customers. Many are indifferent, some are downright rude!

After the 2 hurricanes struck, it was the same set of problems, plus everyone had jacked their prices way up as well. It was a trying time that dragged on for months. I had learned the hard way to get plenty of estimates before hiring anyone. Also to get everything in writing, even the things they claim to do for free!

During my bat infestation, I had a devil of a time finding someone with a ladder high enough to reach the top of my 30 ft cathedral ceiling. The right side where it formed a V needed to be sealed. I told the man to seal both sides as long as he was up there. "No!" he snapped back, "it doesn't need it!"

Would he have spoken to me that way if I had been a man? -- I doubt it! At one point, he also criticised my housekeeping.

Now I had been living upstairs in my bedroom for a month! I couldn't stay downstairs long enough to clean, because the smell of bat urine was intolerable. Not to mention inhaling the fumes put me at risk for histoplasmosis. -- This fellow was only one of many, I never hired again!

Each new handyman nearly always criticizes the work of his predecessor. They in turn are criticized by the next, which makes me wonder if any of them actually know what they are doing. Some of these so-called professionals had questionable skills. They did obviously shoddy work, but demanded a lot of money.

On occasion, I do find that rare gem of a handyman. Someone who is highly skilled, ethical, reasonably priced, reliable, and polite. Trouble is, they tend to move away.

Frequently, I have been told I need to find a husband, that would solve my problem. NO, that would only create worse problems! Not to mention, it's a drastic solution! Besides a lot of men just aren't handy around the house, some are helpless!

My father could fix anything. He was as skillful with his hands as he was smart with figures. My brother and I did not inherit that gene. Back when my middle-aged cousin was visiting; he, our mothers and I went out to dinner while Dad was away. Upon our return, we discovered a fuse had blown. My cousin instructed me to turn on all the lights in the house while he unscrewed each fuse so we could locate the bad one.

When I related this incident to my father, he laughed uproariously! My cousin had grown up on farm, he should know how to spot a bad fuse, Dad declared. I reminded him that this was the same man who accidentally poisoned all his cows, forcing the family farm to be sold.

My father escorted me to the fuse box and explained how to spot a blown fuse. It was so simple, it was embarrassing. This was at our old Stuart house. My current home has levers instead of fuses, easier yet!

Recently, my smoke detector expired after 10 years. I hired my computer guy Jake to get and install a new one. He did a perfect job and he's plenty smart. But Jake's just not the type I'd hire to climb up on my roof and nail down a shingle or pour concrete on my driveway.

I was fortunate enough to find an outstanding handyman for these kinds of outdoor jobs. I've even recommended him to friends. (Usually I always warning them NEVER to hire so-&-so because he's incompetent or he'll rip you off! ) Anyway, I'm losing this exceptional man because he's retiring to another state. He will be missed!

Soon I'll be back to weeding through all the chaff searching for another gem like D.R. Swartwood.

FINANCIAL & OTHER TYPES OF INSECURITY

After the death of my father, I was sitting pretty financially. I had enough money to last well into old age as long as I was frugal. Since I limit my wild spending sprees to Thrift Shops and Dollar Stores, I felt secure.

Not long after my house was repaired from the 2 hurricanes, I received a call from my Financial Advisor. He wanted to come over and talk. I thought something was up, because this was most unusual.

Within 5 seconds after stepping inside my house, he asked if I ever intended to get married. -- It seemed a strange and rather personal question. I told him, "No, I honestly don't see it in my future."

There was a problem, he said. I held my breath. He inquired if I was aware of what was happening with General Motors. At the time this was all over the news. But I was still unsure how this affected me.

"The bulk of your investments are in G.M. Bonds," he told me, "G.M. could go under!"

"What!?" I exclaimed. I reminded him of my instructions to put me in only the safest investments possible!

"I thought nothing could be safer then G.M.," he replied.

Yikes! Later on the evening news, there was talk of General Motors going bankrupt. Geez!!! I'd have to sell my house and live in a tent in the woods! I'd be eating cat food and crickets.

I phoned my Financial Advisor and told him to get me out of G.M. fast! Yes, I knew I'd lose a lot of money. But at least I'd be left with something! Well, that move cost me $60,000.!!! And shortly after, came the news that our government was going to bail out G.M.!

What??? This was unprecedented. I didn't know they were even allowed to do that! I thought it was unconstitutional since General Motors is not a government business. This fell under the category of SOCIALISM! And it happened on PRESIDENT GEORGE BUSH'S watch too, folks!

I should have left my money alone. Unfortunately, I don't own a crystal ball.

I started looking for employment. I had been out of the work force a long time. Considering my history, I doubted I could pass any type of mental health screening. Trying to explain to prospective employers that I had severe anxiety attacks, O.C.D. and other disorders I won't mention, would probably get my application shredded before I was out the door. Plus I understand too well why someone would go postal. To say I'm not a people-person is an understatement.

Besides the above, I wasn't young, and neither was I computer savvy. Soon, I discovered I was unemployable. But I needed income! The few jobs I qualified for, payed peanuts and wouldn't hire me anyway.

Desperate, I emptied my bank account and gave it to my Financial Advisor. I needed some way to generate income, no matter how small. And that's exactly what I got!

I'm constantly looking around for ways to generate more income. Most I have looked into, are outright scams. Some are legitimate, but cost too much up front, with no guarantee of revenue. And Lord knows, I have no head for business or figures.

Of course the Nigerian Prince has emailed! As well as the dying wealthy widow who wants to transfer all her millions to me because she knows in her heart that I will be generous with those who have less. -- Yeah right!

Fortunately, my big loss could be written off on my taxes and carried over from year to year. So I haven't had to pay Income tax. I am one of those victim/moochers of whom Mitt Romney referred with such disdain. Needless to say, Lord Romney will not be getting my vote!

My Financial Advisor had been wonderful during my father's illness. He even drove my dad to chemotherapy once. It was the time I had to stay home to mop the kitchen floor while waiting for a refrigerator repairman. I told my C.P.A. I didn't blame him because it had been my decision to get out of G.M..

The C.P.A. disagreed. He explained the situation didn't happen over night, there had been enough red flags along the way. Had my Financial Advisor been on his toes, he could have gotten me out safely in plenty of time.

That Financial Advisor left the business a short time later and moved to another state. Now, I have a new one. So far, I'm more than pleased with him. He is prudent with what I have left. Plus the poor fellow has put up with my paranoia caused by his predecessor.

Now, I'm following a life-long passion by writing and publishing my own books. This gives me a great amount of satisfaction and fulfillment, but very little monetarily.

I'm frequently on the receiving end of unsolicited advice; others insist that I need to do this or that with my life, time, etc.. Frankly, it annoys the hell out of me! As long as I am not sucking the tit of the Taxpayer, stay out of my business!

You can have perfect plans, do everything right, and still be blind-sided.

I would be lying if I told you the future doesn't scare me. I have two options in the coming years. ONE: A little, run-down hacienda in some developing third world country. TWO: I could wrap my lips around my father's old semi-automatic. -- The one I choose all depends on my future health.

OH NO, NOT AGAIN! 04

Two weeks after Hurricane Frances hit, I was in Walmart trying to buy a couple of battery-operated lanterns. My boarded-up house with its 30 ft. high cathedral ceiling looked so eerie by candlelight. Also with lanterns I could read!

Not unexpectedly, they were sold out. I told a Walmart employee I wanted a few on hand for the next hurricane. Well she guffawed and exclaimed, "Don't worry honey, we won't get another hurricane for 30 years!" -- This was on Monday.

Recently, Hurricane Ivan had become the second hurricane of the season to strike Florida's other coast. Now Hurricane Jeanne was whirling in the Atlantic Ocean. We were told it was not a threat to us. It was on a northern path away from Florida.

Just a few days later, my lawn-man knocked on my door. He inquired if I had seen the cover of the day's newspaper. It was early, so I had not. Well, Hurricane Jeanne had looped around, she was heading directly toward us! I was in shock! I had just gotten my windows unboarded from the previous hurricane!

Now I was in a panic! Fortunately I was able to get the carpenter back to board me up all over again. Just 3 weeks to the day after Hurricane Frances hit, Jeanne struck! Another category 2, both on a Saturday. At least this time my electricity didn't go out until around 9:00 PM.

As I huddled with my pillows in the pitch-dark bathroom downstairs, I was still in a state of disbelief. How could this happen again, and so soon? My house was already battered and damaged. Could it even stand up to another hurricane?

Fortunately, Jeanne moved faster than Frances. Also electricity was restored in 4 days this time rather than 7.

My friend Margaret phoned from the Orlando area. She had been hit by all 4 hurricanes of the season! But never once did she loose electricity! Unlike Vero Beach, the wires there are all under ground.

Soon after, the Insurance adjuster arrived. He complained that he was unable to reach me by phone. -- My answering machine sat in it's box. Because I found the directions unclear and wouldn't risk a fire. I doubt I'd survive one. My bedroom is the farthest from the stairs. Bless him, he hooked it up for me!

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him walking all over my steep roof! He was in his tie and street shoes! So-called professionals refused to get up there without safety equipment. He made all those rednecks in their jeans look like wussies!

I had managed to get a few estimates for repairs, although most of my calls were still going unreturned. Soon a check from the Insurance Co. arrived. I thought surely it had to be a joke! The cost of my repairs were around $12,000. and the check was for $2,500.! Even with my deductible that amount was a ludicrous! Apparently they thought I lived in a time warp.

I phoned the Insurance Company. To make a long story short, they mailed me another $2,500.... If I had I no Insurance what-so-ever, and just banked the premiums, there would have had plenty of money for the repairs. Later, I was dropped as a client.

The price of electricity and everything else shot up after the 2 hurricanes. I continued to shop around for estimates. It was almost Spring before many of the repairman returned my calls, and nearly Summer before the repairs to my house were completed. This was true for many Floridians as well.

Eventually, I did get a couple of battery-operated lanterns, plus a giant flashlight. And just in time for the next category 2 hurricane, which struck the following year! A harrowing ordeal for sure, my windows were all left unboarded. I screamed, cried, prayed, and cursed throughout my subsequent tribulation!

CHANGE OF LIFE & SEASONS

September was the most hated of all months when I was growing up. My brief span of freedom came to its end. The month was so dreaded, the very mention of it made me cringe in July. By August, just the thought of it gave me night terrors. There wasn't a child conceived who loathed school and everything it entailed more than I did! The teachers were tantamount to jailers. And the other kids were little gangsters as far as I was concerned. To say I didn't fit in was an understatement. And worse, I didn't want to! Once back in the gulag, it seemed forever until the holidays rolled around.

Now that I'm old, it seems that after the calendar hits September, the holidays come and go fast. Plus I LOVE it when the kids are back in school!!! The neighborhood is far more serene. Also I don't have to worry about my mailbox until the weekends. But the month is dreaded for another reason.

September is when we are the most likely to be struck by hurricanes! And the double zero decade was certainly an unusually active one! It really put the fear into me. Those were miserable times and the memories remain vivid.

I feel the new year should begin in September, rather than January. Because everything seems to change so dramatically after Labor Day. Everything feels different, like a brand new year!

Summer is the "naked season" for me. I close the blinds and strip myself bare to save on electric bills. Technically, September is still part of Summer until the 22nd of the month.

During rare Septembers we get our first taste of cool air after seemingly endless hellishly hot & humid days. But I can remember many a year when I wore my Summer clothes (tee hee) straight through Christmas. The tourists and the snowbirds may love the warmth, but I hate it! I need a nip in the air to feel alive. Florida is probably the wrong state for me.

Growing up, I remember the temperatures being quite different. Halloween night was almost always chilly. By Thanksgiving, we were all in heavy long sleeves or sweaters. And by Christmas, we never went outdoors without a coat! This changed around the time I got up into my 30's. Native Floridians started to take note and remark about the warming cycle we had entered.

I love the holidays. But it's hard to get into the spirit when you're sweating in the heat. In recent years we did have some prolonged cold, but that came after New Year's.

My favorite time is that period between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I enjoy that festive feeling and hopefully cooler air, too! However, after you reach adulthood, Christmas Day itself becomes an anti-climax. It's little more than just a big meal.

New Year's is always a sad holiday to me. Perhaps because it means all the big holidays are over for another year. I never celebrate the new year. It's more of a reflective time.

That brings us to my birthday in January, which I always celebrate, even if I'm alone. At my age, I'm starting to wonder how many birthdays I actually have left. In a way I'm kind of glad my time is growing short. I don't like the direction the world is headed.

By February, people are bellowing, "Summer is right around the corner!" Which makes me want to high-five them with a brick to the head. Because I want it to stay Winter! I've never tolerated heat well. And the older I get, the less I can stand it.

Summer, once my most cherished season, now is my least favorite. As far as I'm concerned, it can't end fast enough!

AFTERMATH OF THE STORM

Growing up in Florida I've heard some pretty stupid statements concerning hurricanes. Such as, "It was such a job boarding my windows, I was disappointed the storm didn't hit." Which makes me want to scream, "You fool! It would be a lot more bother & expense if it did!"

Another ignoramus statement is, "Oh a hurricane is just a one day event." Actually the aftermath is often just as bad or worse. But in different ways and the ordeal can stretch on for days, weeks, and even months.

2004 the day after Hurricane Frances hit, the pain from my temple soon spread to the entire right side of my head. I returned to the bathroom floor to sleep. I was constantly throwing up from the migraine. And the toilet was right next to my head. So it was a convenient place to be.

Early the next afternoon, I took my migraine upstairs to sleep in my own bed again. This was late summer, my house was boarded up with no air-conditioning or electricity. I awoke in blinding pitch darkness atop sweat-soaked sheets. The room felt suffocating. I fumbled for the candle & matches I had left on my little bedside dresser.

My flashlight and radio were downstairs. Slowly, I ventured out. As I neared the bottom of the stairs, I nearly tripped with the lit candle in my hand! It was a close call! Everything around me looked creepy with the windows boarded. My cathedral ceiling added to this effect.

I grabbed the flashlight and radio. I hurried back upstairs into my bedroom. Suddenly I spotted the small, unboarded bathroom window. -- A window I could open! The outside air was sweltering, too. But at least it was fresh! This is where I slept for the following week. My master bathroom was more spacious than the one downstairs. I could stretch out.

Every night I fell asleep to the music of neighbor's generators. I felt ants and other things crawl over me as I slept. My only entertainment was the radio, which I often wanted to smash! I didn't like any of the music. Plus I was hungry for world and national news! The only news I could find was about Vero Beach as if it was the center of the universe! I was sick of hearing about the hurricane!

Phone service returned around the same time I recovered from the migraine. Then my flashlight gave out. Even a new battery couldn't save it! The first thing I did was call my Insurance Co., which I did by candlelight. As I related information, my policy nearly caught fire in my hand! The lady at the other end was understanding. She said to take photos. She suggested I find a man to help me spot damage. Then I phoned the carpenter to come and unboard me. I was unable to reach him.

An hour later, my friend Irene called. She warned me not to drive because signs were down and traffic lights were blowing loose on their wires. Due to the lack of electricity, I couldn't get my car out of the garage anyway. Plus my driveway was covered high in debris.

Irene had weathered the storm in a house filled with friends. I asked if I could borrow a camera since I was without one. She put "Bernice" on the phone, whom I'd also considered a friend. I asked if her husband would walk around the house with me to spot damage. Well she screamed into the phone, "My husband is not responsible for your property! He'll bring you a camera and don't you dare ask!"

I was stunned. I wasn't asking him to sign anything! So how was he responsible? I should have told her to take her camera and stick it! But I was desperate. Even Irene told her she was being unreasonable. Later, I made it clear I wanted nothing more to do with her until she apologized. But she wouldn't budge!

Thanks to the migraine, I had no appetite for 3 days. I carried multiple garbage bags of spoiled food out to the curb. For my first meal after the storm, I ate a giant can of spinach. Later, I had lots of room temperature soup, which wasn't bad that way! My house was a sweat box, so I didn't want anything hot. I ached for a glass of something cold to drink.

My kitchen windows that overlook the porch were unboarded. But I couldn't open them because they are screenless. And the porch screens were all blown out! I didn't want squirrels, lizards, bugs, snakes, and Lord-knows-what-else stealing into my house.

Around dusk, I'd sit at my kitchen table fiddling with the radio dial. Through the windows I could see a disturbing view. It looked like the end of the world. It reminded me of a scene from DAWN OF THE DEAD. Honestly, I kept expecting to see zombies! There was no street light now. It got dark fast! I didn't like being down there then.

Later, I heard that the Winn Dixie supermarket closest to me was now open. After clearing my driveway, I asked the new neighbor to help me with my garage door. He was a big, older man and was able to lift and hold it open from the side as I drove out.

The supermarket had darkened isles with mostly bare shelves. The freezer cases were almost entirely empty. I was hoping to buy ice, but there was none. I picked up a can of cold soda, paid for it and asked the cashier if I could drink it right there. She nodded. Afterward I bought bread & peanut butter, plus a box of granola bars.

I was told the carpenter had come to unboard me while I was out. My phone was working now. He should have called first!

Electrical crews from all over the country descended like angels to get us up & running again. After a long, miserable week, my electricity was finally restored. But my house remained boarded. At least I had air-conditioning now! I found myself navigating in dark rooms out of force of habit. TV service didn't return for almost another week because the cable co. was still getting it's act together. I risked my life driving to the movies during the day.

As is typical after a hurricane, calls to contractors & handymen went ignored. But my house was finally unboared. I believed the worst was behind me. I assured myself I wouldn't be experiencing anything like that for at least another 10 years or more. People were starting to smile again. Little did anyone know, that in just a couple of weeks, another category 2 hurricane would strike us all by surprise!

HIDER IN THE STORM

Labor Day weekend 2004, no one in South Florida was planning any picnics on the beach. We were all hiding behind shutters or plywood. A monster category 2 hurricane named Frances was headed directly toward us. Exactly where she would make landfall was anyone's guess.

I had weathered 3 serious hurricanes in my life. This was to be the first I would experience alone.

That Friday I was stressed-out, in an agitated state unable to find anyone to board-up my windows. So I busied myself moving anything of value from my second story. I didn't know what else to do. The next day the storm would hit!

An older couple recently had moved in next door. They were completely renovating the house. First, they installed storm-proof glass in their windows. (Something I wish I could afford!!!) Learning of my situation, they sent their carpenter over to help me. He was a Godsend!

Pre-cut and labeled plywood sheets were now waiting in the garage. He only charged me $40.. Because he didn't believe in taking advantage of anyone in my situation. I thought he was a saint!

Unfortunately, there was nothing to protect my front door or bathroom window. The man who cut the plywood claimed that due to the angle of the house it was unnecessary. Ditto for my wide kitchen windows. He said they were protected by the back porch. -- But I think he was just lazy! I was particularly concerned about my unfortified front door. Especially since it opened inward.

Shortly before, a major hurricane named Charley hit Florida's other coast causing serious damage to lives and property. I, like most other Floridians believed that would be the Sunshine State's only hurricane of 04. Little did we know it was just the beginning of an active season!

That evening, I prepared a feast for myself in the formal dining area under the chandelier. I felt like a passenger on the Titanic. Soon all the food in my refrigerator would be spoiled. But tonight I would dine like a Queen! I wondered if my house would even be standing by Labor Day Monday.

As I readied for bed, I turned off the bathroom light only to find myself standing in pitch darkness. I'd forgotten my large window was now boarded. I figured if I just slowly walked straight, I'd come to the foot of my bed. Then I'd climb on. I took a few steps forward blindly swinging my hands & arms in the dark.

Suddenly I grabbed an object that should NOT have been there! Something metallic, long and cold; like the bottom of a huge windchime. It was hanging way down in the middle of my room! I took it with both hands, feeling it up and down trying to discern what it could be. There was nothing like THAT in my bedroom! I was freaked out and frightened. Afraid, I let go and turned back toward the bathroom, feeling the wall as I went. I switched on the bathroom light, then the bedroom one. There was absolutely NOTHING hanging from the ceiling!!! Yet it had been as solid as my wrist!

Quickly I got a nightlight from the hall closet. I placed it in the bathroom, then left the door ajar. To this day I have no idea what that was in the darkness. It's just one more weird, inexplicable occurrence in my life.

Around 4:00 A.M. I was awakened by fierce shrieking winds lashing my house! I realized if I wanted one last cooked meal I'd better get up in a hurry! I prepared an enormous breakfast. From past experience I knew I would be in for a week of mostly fasting. The electricity gave out right after I finished the dishes. Frances was a gigantic, slow-moving hurricane. The worst was yet ahead.

The storm's most intense savagery came after dark. My safe room was the downstairs bathroom. It had no windows and was pitch dark with the door shut even in daylight. This is where I would spend the night. I threw 6 large pillows on the floor as my bed. Unfortunately, the room is narrow. Whenever I turned in my sleep I'd either bang my head on the base of the toilet or hit the door jam with my foot.

As the winds accelerated, I worried my front door would blow down bringing the storm inside. I closed and locked the bathroom door. I turned off the flashlight. Again, I was in blinding pitch blackness. But my flashlight was close! Suddenly I felt elated that I was alone. There was only room for me in here. Had my father or the dog been alive, it would have added only more stress and problems.

A chilling draft sweep through my house. I heard it as well as felt it! I shivered as it blew under the bathroom door. My house and I shook together. Outside was chaos! The sounds of my home being viciously assaulted by this monster were all around. At one point, I was certain my back porch had been ripped off and blown away! I thought again of my front door and wondered if I was going to survive. It was a horrifying night!

The next day I awoke with an excruciating migraine. I had no idea what time it was, and I didn't care. Through my kitchen windows I saw the torn screens flapping on my back porch. To my amazement the porch itself remained! But the results of hurricane havoc were everywhere! My back lawn was completely covered with debris. The entire neighborhood was a similar disaster. Trees were down. Everything looked broken and battered. -- But my front door held!

I was nauseous from the migraine and my right temple throbbed in agony. I returned to the bathroom floor to sleep. Later I moved back upstairs. I spent 3 days sleeping off the migraine. For the time being, there was nothing better to do anyway. However, the ordeal was far, far from over.
 

A NEIGHBOR'S MARITAL MISADVENTURE

"Gertrude," my only true friend in my former neighborhood, was as old as I am now when we met. ( I am in my early 60's) At the age of 30, Gertrude was married briefly for 6 months. It was such a traumatic experience she never wanted another husband!

"He was handsome with dark curly hair, just like Tony Curtis," she told me. "We dated 2 years. And he treated me like a princess! Anything I wanted was fine with him."

"But didn't you tell me he was another woman's reject?" I asked.

"He was recently divorced and hurting when we met. Because his ex-wife cheated on him. I thought, poor guy. He's so sweet... I remember," Gertrude continued, "Whenever I worked late at the bank, he insisted on picking me up. He was so worried about me coming home alone in the dark."

"So far he does sound like a prince," I said.

"Well he changed into a completely different person after we got married!" she stated with a sniff.

"How soon after?" I was curious to know.

"Immediately after the wedding! He left me inside the car in my gown as he partied in a bar with some other men. He said he'd only be a few minutes. But it was far longer. Then, on our wedding night he told me if I ever got pregnant, he'd take off and I'd never hear from him again!"

"Egads, he was a lowlife!" I exclaimed.

"My parents bought us a nice house as a wedding gift," Gertrude told me. "He was eager to sell it and move to Montana. I said nothing doing, forget it!"

I have seen photos of Gertrude's house up north. It's a beautiful two-story with bay-windows.

"Every time I asked him to go anyplace or do anything with me," she continued, "he'd tell me to do it with a girlfriend. I explained to him that I didn't get married to hang out with girlfriends! And he'd better be careful, or I was going to get a boyfriend just like his ex-wife!"

"Glad you told him that!" I said.

"One night after I worked late at the bank, I came out to the parking lot to discover my car missing! Our new house was only a few blocks away. So I decided to walk and report it stolen from there. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it parked in front of the house! Inside, curly hair was asleep on the sofa."

"I think I would have suffocated him with a pillow!" I told her.

"He claimed he needed the car to meet up with friends earlier. Then he just FORGOT ABOUT ME!" She fumed. "The following Monday, I didn't come home from work. I went straight to my parents house. Then I filed for divorce! -- He was furious!!!

"I'm surprised it took you that long," I said. "The wedding night would have done for me."

"Well he didn't want a divorce! Everything was great as far as he was concerned. And I was a terrible person! He even showed up at my work and created a scene! The police were called to remove him."

"And he was so sweet during the courtship!" I pointed out.

"He got himself an attorney. Then, he demanded my wedding and engagement rings back! Even his own attorney thought that was going too far. -- However, if that's what it took to get him out of my life, I was willing." She sighed.

"Did you ever see or hear from him again?" I asked.

"Just a few years ago, he contacted me. He wanted to meet for lunch. Friends advised me against it. But I was curious."

I know what I would have said to him!

"Actually it was a pleasant lunch. Because I knew we were never getting back together... And that beautiful curly hair was mostly gray. He was sweet, just as during our long ago courtship." 
 
"Today I was going to give you your rings back," he cooed as he took my hand. "But I lost them."
 

THE TWO MILLION DOLLAR NEIGHBOR

Back in my Stuart days, an elderly widower lived next door. After his wife passed, we were given an extra key to his house. This was during the late mid 1980's. One Sunday evening around 9:00 PM, we received a call from his panicked niece. Distressed, because she had been unable to reach him all day. He rarely left home!

My parents immediately assumed he had died! His niece wanted my father to go over. Dad was uncomfortable with the idea of finding him dead. So he called the police.

My father and the cop entered the dark house together. The neighbor was alive! He had been stuck in his bathtub since early morning.

An ambulance was summoned. Dad returned home.

"Was he naked?" my mother eager to know.

"No," I replied. "He was wearing a hat and socks!"

His niece came down from Chicago within the week. She was an older, retired woman. This was the first time I met "Gertrude." Although she had visited before when her aunt was alive.


My neighbor, her uncle died a year later, as did my mother. Since he had no children, Gertrude inherited his house. His money went to charity. She became a seasonal resident, a snowbird. Eventually, she planned to move down full time.

Gertrude and I became instant friends! Often we went out to dine. Plus we both had January birthdays which we celebrated together.

Gertrude was an only child from an affluent family. She inherited just short of a million dollars from her parents. But turned it into two million through her stock market savvy! She told her broker what to do, never the other way around.

Shortly after Gertrude came into my life, the neighborhood quickly began to change. Houses on the river like ours were getting bulldozed and mansions sprang up. Many of the people who resided in them were arrogant with a sense of entitlement. What I call the scumbag millionaires.

Gertrude never fit in with this crowd because she hated showy people who flaunted their wealth. However, she owned a brand new Lincoln Continental with all the bells and whistles. Plus she bought herself expensive jewelry as frequently as I buy the costume stuff at Thrift Shops. -- If you have money, there is nothing wrong with enjoying it! I know I would! My father also owned a Lincoln Continental at the time. But his was older and not as fancy.

However unlike the scumbag millionaires, she never tried to make me feel inferior. She was generous with her kindness.

Less than a year after my mother's death, Dad married "Avis" his mistress of 18 yrs.. My dad really knew how to pick'em! Gertrude found Avis phony and saw through her lies. She was the only neighbor who believed me as I related my abusive experiences with my new stepmother. Everyone else went over to the Avis side.

It's hard to believe all of this went down 20 yrs. ago. It still seems so vivid in my mind.

After a few years trapped with Avis, I suffered a big emotional breakdown. I ended up spending 4 hours in jail! Gertrude was the only neighbor who still wanted anything to do with me.

Many of those neighbors congregated in front of my house loudly and publicly reviling me, claiming I should be institutionalized. Gertrude was the only one who defended me. She told them all they were disgusting! Later, Gertrude brought me a pint of Hagen Daas.

Eventually, it was my stepmother who was institutionalized, and not me! Gertrude became even closer to me and Dad. She was at our house every day and numerous times.

Thanks to the new mansion on the other side, our property taxes skyrocketed! We were forced to sell our home of nearly 40 yrs.. My father was depressed. But I was eager to leave that neighborhood I had long hated! Gertrude was devastated. She told us repeatedly how lonely she would be.

The day we moved, she drove behind us in her new Lincoln Continental all the way to Vero Beach. She calmed our dog while we were busy directing the movers.

After my father's death, Gertrude often visited and gave me advice. We ate lunch at Dodger Pines Country Club. Which she loved! The two of us always exchanged letters during the months she was back in Chicago. As with my father, Gertrude's health began to fail with age.

On a late summer day, I returned from the movies. In the mailbox I found my last letter to her, returned. It was marked DECEASED! I remembered how excited she was at the thought of soon becoming a full time Florida resident. Now that would never happen. I cried. Never did I cry when my own mother died, not even once!