Saturday, June 17, 2017

A Laid Back Life in Florida

This is a typical day for retired folk in Florida, and when Pamela has a day off.

When it's 90 degrees, you swim and drink beer.

Monday, June 5, 2017

Cleaning the Goat Pen,and Ruby Ain't Happy

Today was the day that Pamela announced she was cleaning a foot of bedding out of the goat pen.  It is now the rainy season, and it was getting nasty in there.  I did my part by running around the yard with a manure rake, scooping up dog poop.  Yep, with four good sized dogs, it doesn't take long.

The first step was to release the the goats, Amos n' Andy.

Our friend Gib could use the old bedding for his compost pile for his garden next year.  Pam had him pull up next to the pen so she could toss the old bedding right in the truck bed.

If Ruby, our protective female pitbull, doesn't understand what's happening, she makes her displeasure known.

But when she realized there was no danger, the loading of the bedding was allowed to proceed.  Two truck loads worth.

Pam also put the plywood roof back up.  The goats had knocked it down, and the next few days are forecast to be rainy.  Thank gawd.

The burn ban is off in Marion County, so I was also able to torch that today.  Baby steps, but it's progress.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Momma's Home!

Pamela went to the Keys with friends for four days.  This is the dogs when she got home.

I think they were happy to see her.

Monday, May 1, 2017

Yesterday's photos.  Florida hardly sucks at all.

The look of joy on his face is priceless.

Saturday, December 17, 2016

My First Sasquatch Sighting

I saw my first Sasquatch tonight.
Pamela and I lived with them all around our cabin for three years in upstate New York. Pamela saw her buddy, but I never saw one. Never. My rationale was that you don't see one unless it allows you too, or simply doesn't care that you do.
Well, I was returning from a book signing at Winter Haven, Florida with author Scott Marlowe. Pamela was tending bar at the Pig Pen in Hog Valley, so I was driving down Hog Valley Road, which passes through the Ocala National Forest. I was tired and pretty much on auto pilot. It was dark. I was driving through a desolate part of the road. On my left was what looked like taillights, bright red. But this area is as flat as a pancake, and these lights were high off the ground. I slowed down to see what it was as I passed. The red lights weren't red lights at all. It was eye shine, anywhere from eight to ten feet off the ground. As I slowly passed it, the eyes followed me. My high beams caught it. It was a Sasquatch. He was simply standing there watching me drive by. He didn't bolt. He didn't run. He didn't duck. He just stood there. My jaw dropped and my brain disconnected. I drove to the Pig Pen, my brain still disconnected. I sat in the car thinking. I'm not afraid of Sasquatch. Why didn't I stop, back up, and turn a bit to shine my headlights directly on it? I don't know why. It was like being in shock or something.
I looked for it on my drive home. Nothing.
So I lived with them all around in New York for three years. They ran around the cabin, knocked on the walls and windows, and hollered outside. I never saw one. But driving in Hog Valley, one just stood there. Nice as you please. Amazing.

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

I Am Officially a Hundred-aire!

Well, it is official.
Those of you who have been following this blog understand how bizarre life has been in the past few years.  Go ahead, click on the search box and enter "Bigfoot" or "Sasquatch".  You'll see.
I published my book "Living Among Sasquatch: A Primer" at the beginning of this year. After sending out free copies to libraries and such, and after flying to New York to speak at a conference, this month's royalty check from the publisher has put me in the black.
Yes. I'm a hundred-aire. Woo hoo!
My Sasquatch related novel is moving along well now. I'm at 114 pages, and over 31,000 words. Since I stopped thinking about what I was going to write and just let my fingers type, it is going much more smoothly.
I can't wait to sit down to write today, and to see what happens next because I have no idea.

Coincidently, this memory popped up on Facebook from three years ago...

had to shut the dogs up in the cabin. I can hear a buck scraping the velvet from his horns not far from the cabin. The dogs don't know what it is but they want to go find out.

This is pretty funny, because knowing now what I didn't know then, that was no buck.  That would have been a Sasquatch.  Most likely Pamela's big hairy friend.  It would have been warning others that there was now humans living in the cabin.