The Forgotten Coast

     Winter has been doled out in small doses in the panhandle. We have a string of days in the 70’s broken by a couple days of rain and chilly weather. There was a storm this morning just before daylight with lightening that split the sky and lighted the park. Gracie, Baby, and Dylan cuddled next to me on the queen-size bed, listening to the rain and thunder. Just after daylight the rain stopped and it was warm enough for just a light jacket on our walk to check out the beach this morning. This afternoon it’s sweatshirt weather.
    The sea was as still this morning as the storm had been fierce. The flying fish were skipping across the surface in splashes. A flock of cormorants floated just beyond the pier. This is called “The Forgotten Coast.” Not much has changed here in decades. There is little development along the coast (unlike Alabama, where the coastline was a wall of high-rise condominiums). Many of the businesses in Carrabelle still have family names, and except for the vehicles and a satellite dish or two, you would have no idea what decade this is.   
     Tides are a mystery to me. Today low tide was 4:20 AM and high tide will be at 8:41 tonight, and there won’t be much difference in the height of the water. Tomorrow the tides will each be about an hour later. But Friday there will be two low tides, at 6:19 AM and 5:15 PM and two high tides, 3:06 and 10:54 PM, and there will be drastic differences in low and high tide. Friday should be a good day to find shells. The last trip to WalMart (30 miles away in Crawford) I bought polka-dot rain boots, so I can slosh around in the mud. Gracie is happy.  
     Neighbors Lee and Doyle helped me figure out the jacks, so the Goose is level and stable, and all the doors open and close easily. Unfortunately they also discovered that the Goose desperately needs an alignment, as the tires I bought in August are nearly eaten through. I will call Camping World in Tallahassee and schedule an appointment before I go further. I’m staying here until February 20^th,  so I am in no hurry. . . .       
    Yesterday Lee and I got a burlap sack half full of oysters ($17) at a broker in Carrabelle who buys from the fishermen and supplies local restaurants. The owner was happy to demonstrate how to hold the barnacle-encrusted shell, insert the knife at the hinge, and deftly separate the halves to reveal the meat within, in about 15 seconds. She grinned as she slurped it down out of the shell before tossing them into the pile in the front yard.
     I have to wonder who first looked at an oyster and thought, “Looks like good eating!”
     It took me 90 minutes to shuck a dozen oysters. I tried one raw (a first for me), on a cracker with a little horseradish, the preferred method among my neighbors of eating them. It was interesting, but I think I prefer them cooked. Dinner last night was steamed oysters, baked potato and vegetables.
     Two years ago this month I was turned down for food stamps and living on the sweet potatoes from my back yard. One year ago this month I was (incorrectly) diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I know the word “amazing” is over used, but I keep running out of ways to describe my life. I’m living a few feet from an ever-changing ocean in a comfortable home with my loving pets, having great new experiences with new friends. Amazing.     

Life in Ho Hum Park

     When I called from Gulf Shores to make the reservation for this spot for one month, camp host Carol confirmed availability for a second month without me requesting she do so. Now I know why. I am convinced there is not a more beautiful spot on earth.
     Gracie and I walk the beach several times a day, exploring at high and low tides. I swore I was not going to collect sea shells, so I collect only the really interesting ones. The big helmet-like shells are sting rays; the live ones have a nasty-looking spike extending out the back of the shell. Jellyfish are bizarre platter-size discs of glistening transparent plasma with loops of internal organs that form a clover pattern. Beautiful orange starfish seem very vulnerable to the tides, washing up in numbers I cannot possibly toss back into the waves.
     In the 1946 Disney movie "Song of the South", Uncle Remus strolls along a path singing Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah while animated butterflies float around him. I have come closer than I ever could have imagined, without the animation. This is the area where monarch butterflies winter, and dozens flit around the bushes near the water. 

     One clear bright evening I thought I would experience the beach at night. Before we got very far I heard crashing in the bushes and heavy huffing grunting noises. Remembering the signs along the road for bear crossings, I decided we’ll enjoy the gulf at night from the pier.  

     My neighbor is a single man about my age. Lee is comfortable in his own skin, into yoga, healthy eating, movies, self improvement, and his little dog Murphy. It’s nice to have someone with whom to discuss the complexities of the universe. He also invites me along when he goes grocery shopping, and showed me how to change fuses in the Goose, so I have lights in the closets and over the bed again.

     I am teaching Dylan (my large male Bengal cat) to walk on a leash. It's a slow process, but he's an eager student. I take Dylan and Gracie on leashes to a picnic table overlooking the water for lunch most days. Dylan stares at the seagulls, languishes on the rocks, rolls in the sand, and gets tangled in the picnic table. He walks both ways on the leash. The neighbors enjoy the show.

     The Christmas party in the park was very nice. There were about 30 people, the food was excellent, and we played a gift-sharing game that netted me a few scratcher lottery tickets. I sat with Lee and his neighbors Malia and Doyle. Good conversation and much laughter.

     Gracie loves the giant chew roll she got for Christmas. Gracie, Dylan, Baby and I cuddled while I watched the movie "The Help" (very good) in the afternoon. I had turkey cutlets slow-cooked in the crock pot with all the fixings for dinner. New Year's Eve we rocked in 2012 with Carson Daly on television. Baby was on my lap, Gracie and Dylan beside me while we snacked on lunch meat, crackers and cheese. New Year's Day I shared dinner with my neighbors Joe and Adrienne, who travel with their three dogs in a 30-foot motorhome. They love this area so much they are buying property on St. Vincent Island, not too far west from here.

     The weather all week was fabulous, highs in the 70's and nights in the upper 40's. That changed today. It's cold and windy. Fortunately, the beach cove is shielded from the wind and feels much warmer. Low tide this morning was really low, and Gracie and I were treated on our morning walk to a variety of sea life and shells. I love gifts from the sea.