Schwarmerei or Wrought Irony?

It might not look like it here, but Peanut the cat is exhibiting a severe case of Schwarmerei ("extravagant enthusiasm," the losing word in the 2012 National Spelling Bee). She is usually more demonstrative, but it's about 6 p.m. in this picture, and her action has run down for the day, I'm sorry to say.

She prefers a little morning light to be shed on her behalf. I'd say it's preferable to what she sheds on our behalf. Cat hair is everywhere to be found on the new tile floor. But it blends in quite well with the new color scheme, don't you think?

SAM chose the flooring, and it's no surprise to me why he picked this particular color and style: Now that he's working from home, he and I share the cleaning chores--it's so easy to overlook those hair balls lurking underfoot...

and there's a piece of picture sandstone placed prominently on the great room wall near the front door. That piece of rock is not the only geological feature in this house.

SAM's rock garden has outgrown its former, more humble home (seen here and in the second pic in this post, way at the back, where it holds my German china).

SAM is not particularly Schwarmereic when it comes to gardening outside, but he did design the tropical garden where we buried all of that exhausted cardboard.

It's funny how things have turned out: I'm now working away from home, building my massage practice. SAM's become quite adept at garden design and cleaning the house, among other things. The rocks have a nicer home than my china. Age before beauty, I guess.

Something's Afoot in Northwest Florida: Reflexology and Armadillos

If sailing ships could sail the sea,
And sails were not required,
The term itself for sailing ships
Would have to be retired.

A trip to Tallahassee this weekend for a FSMTA sponsored reflexology workshop at Core Institute proved useful for learning in more ways than one:

1. Who knew there are more ways for treating the body through the feet than there are excuses for not drinking enough water?
2.  Did you realize you're supposed to drink an amount of water (in ounces) equal to one-half your body weight per day? If you fall short of that amount, your vital organs steal moisture from the fascia and muscle tissue in your body to keep functioning properly. Poor ol' fascia and muscle have to limp along like a car engine without enough oil for lubrication. Don't forget that the heart is made of muscle tissue. No wonder I felt dog-tired walking those hills at Lake Tallavana after attending the workshop. 
3. Vacant houses soon become home to various forms of wildlife. Nature bounces back quicker than a dehydrated massage therapist can write a simple blog post. The old brain must suffer too. This post has taken longer to finish than it takes a family of armadillos to take over an empty shed. 
4. Armadillos are capable of spreading leprosy, but no cases of armadillos passing the disease on to Floridians have yet occurred or at least been reported. If they had been, an all out war against armadillos would surely be declared. Who would want to be half the man or woman he/she used to be? If you have no idea what I'm talking about, then you're too young to have heard some version of the leprosy song (lyrics to the tune of the Beatles' song Yesterday). If only leprosy could be one of those terms that would have to be retired.

A Happy Ending for Pecan Shells in My Garden

When we lived near Havana (pronounced Hay-Vanna), Florida, surrounded by acres of pecan groves, I never gave much thought to what happens to those shells that pecans (pronounced Pee-Cans) give up for the sake of pecan pie eaters and fanciers of other sweet Southern delights like pralines. Now I know.

They become mulch for consumers of another sort--the gardening kind. We had a couple of pickup truckloads delivered right to our yard a few weeks ago. The guy selling the stuff had an ad on the Pensacola Craigslist site. He said he has a contract with the Renfroe Pecan Company to pick up all of their spent shells. Way to go, pecan-shell guy! That's using your noggin. Find a company with a useful waste product, help them dispose of it, and make some money on the deal. He told us that we got the last two loads of the stuff. His girlfriend was real happy to see it go away as she can park her car once again in their driveway. I'm happy, she's happy, pecan-shell guy must be happy now that she's happy, and (best of all) the plants are happy. It's just a happy ending all around.