Reclaiming our Ocean

Since that ill fated day last April, I have been sick with frustration, worry, sadness, grief....all of the above at the countless tragedies that can be traced back to the continuing leak of oil in the gulf. It has been hard for me to think about, certainly hard for me to write about. I tried to here.....
But my real emotions, they were to raw. And then I physically saw the waters I think of as home.... well,  it really hit home. And it hit hard. As I photographed the images, I shot through tears that streamed down my face. If you know me personally, or have ever dropped by Tales from Bloggeritaville, you know and can see the coastal influences. It in part makes me...well.....ME.
Below is my small and frail attempt to put into words my thoughts. I think the photos that I took this past week capture and can convey the situation more. But I feel in some way tthat  I would be dishonest to myself  to not share in part my thoughts.


I've always prided myself as a pirate of today. You see, I was born into this world with salt water in my veins. The sea calls to me, no matter how far away I am. From as early as I can remember, I can recall vividly family vacations to the beach (we live just a few hours from the shore).























Fishing from the gulf waters, watching hurricane's come ashore, collecting shells as tiny treasures from the sea....a reminder of it's beauty.

Then one day, my dream came true. I moved to the beach. I lived only a few blocks away. The salt was heavy in the air,  sand between my toes, the coastal breezes..... It was home.
















I got a job that only deepened my love and passion for the coast, in sea animal rehabilitation at Mote Marine Laboratory. There I literally held formerly beached porpoise above water so they wouldn't drown. I assisted in feeding and administering medications to sustain it's life and finally-release back into the waters in which it came.

We marked sea turtle nest on the shoreline, so that people would be cautious and we put chicken wire over them so that raccoons wouldn't tamper with them. A love of the sea and it's inhabitants-all of them-it deepened.

Today, while my husbands career took me further inland, I live close enough to come down at least every 3-4 months. It's my second home. I spend much time here. I do alot of writing here. Books and music that I am working on. It's my perscription for comfort in my soul. My remedy. It is here that I feel God's presence like no other. It's the perfect place to find inspiration.

I find it in the surrounds: the ocean's song, the mounds of the sea oats protecting the waters, the gulls laughter, the pelican's smile, the busyness of the sand crabs as they shuffle across the shoreline.

But I also find my inspiration in the people of the coast. Sure they live the ideal life, but they are also some of the hardest workers. They work for their living and they are dependant of those city folks who give in to the lure of the ocean and pay to spend their hard earned money long the Gulf of Mexico.
















They are those that haul the best seating for the best views in the form of lounge chairs to sunbathers, the fisherman and shrimpers who provide the night's fresh catch, the rentals who share their homes and condo's to those who want to adopt that life for a week, there are so many who contribute the coast that much more appealing.

This entire oil fiasco.....is just that. I am angered, I am sad, I am frustrated at the amount of greed and the lack of measures that were taken, even though there were numerous signs prior to the spill that there was a problem. Those signs were ignored, because of greed. Our nations gem (it has the whitest beaches than anywhere in the world) is now literally tarnished.
















It's inhabitants are being killed.
















There are the concerns of dead zones where no sea life will ever be able to survive. All this, at what cost?
















This is my backyard. I want my children and my children's children to see, know, experience and appreciate what I have all my life. I want them to know it's beauty.
















I want them to understand how plentiful it is in all it gives, but I also want them to understand how fragile it is. We have to care for it. We have to treat it with love. LOVE.
















Now it's time for each of us who have ever put our toes in it's sand to do SOMETHING. There are numerous ways: donate time in clean up, visit the restaurants and stay in the condos. Or donate money to the cause. And pray. We need much prayer. I do not think people quite understand the severity of the situation. It's bad.

It's up to us. Each of us. To give back to the place so many of us long to be.
Our Ocean. Save it.
Please pray with me.

Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call,
Wanted to sail upon your waters
since I was three feet tall.
You've seen it all, you've seen it all.


Watch the men who rode you,
Switch from sails to steam.
And in your belly you hold the treasure
that few have ever seen, most of them dreams,
Most of them dreams.
~Jimmy Buffett, "A Pirate Looks at Forty"


Amended to say: so many of you also had your special stories to share. If you would like to link them up, please do.  Lulu Buffett had adopted the phrase: One Love, One Ocean....and I have to say, it connects us all.

Island Time!

My mind is currently on vacation in paradise. My body will catch up to it later this week. What am I talking about? My girls trip to the beach. I leave on Thursday and find myself counting down the minutes until I will have a cold drink in my hand, my toes in the sand, doing nothing more than watching the surf kiss the shore and enjoy the laughter that is found in close friendships.

I have to be honest, mentally, I cannot think of much more. So? What to do?
Why not take you with me?
Sure.... A BEACH PARTY!
The remaining days will be devoted to tropical escape. Think beach music (you can mute if you want, I won't hold it against you), beach food (I will be posting beach fare over at my blog, Plates and Places this week) and some beach stories of days past. Stories that I thought were worth revisiting. Some at my expense.....but, like the sign on my sidebar says, "blessed are those that can laugh at themselves for they shall always be amused".
So, mentally prepare yourself, come along with me for some surf and sand, a good tan, some great food.....and a whole lotta love. Come on! Let's hit the beach! Don't forget the sunscreen!
Speaking of being able to laugh at oneself....


This story first ran Wednesday, June 11, 2008. Here I am discussing a gag gone wrong when I was on a particular beach trip with friends.


Leigh's Nose Knows the Truth

A couple of years ago, there was a girls trip to the beach. There were two groups of women that went down. One group left on Thursday and another on Friday. I was in the Thursday group. At the time nose piercing had become a new trend among the younger crowd. We had stopped at gas station on the way down, and of all things, there on a turning rack were stickers that were little diamonds. A light bulb went off in my head. I bought them. For some reason, and I do not know why, my friends seem to pick me as the person that will "do anything". Not true. I like to have fun, but there is a limit to my fun. I am not daring or crazy. But people seem to perceive me as that person. But I tell ya what, I love a good joke or prank.
In the car, I announced my intentions, we would call and tell group two that "Leigh had gotten her nose pierced" on this "wild women's weekend" (actually just a group of middle aged moms). The phone call was made, and shrieks came forth on the other end, that "Leigh has gone gotten her nose pierced!!" at a made up name tattoo parlor. They wanted to "see it to believe it". And so on Friday evening, we awaited for group two to arrive. We were to meet them at a local restaurant. I pasted on my fake diamond nose ring and out the door we laughed and giggled all the way to the restaurant.



We had arrived at the restaurant first, and were seated at the table. The restaurant was a very nice, Cafe Grazie. It was dimly lit inside, to my advantage. Soon enough, in came our group. They got a glimpse of the light that flashed off the side of my nose. "I cannot believe you did it!!!". And so on the joke went, me, willing to go as long as possible to convince my group. Soon enough, our food was ordered and then brought to us. I ordered Alfredo pasta, undaunted by the calories because we all know on girls outings, calories simply do not count. As the evening progressed, my "nose ring" began to itch. It was an itch that needed to be scratched. But yet, it was a delicate situation, I didn't want to be obvious or worse yet, scratch off my new "diamond" and expose the truth to soon.

 I began to gently use my finger nail to scratch the surrounding area of the nose ring. Just then, I looked up. My eyes met a young gentleman who worked at the restaurant. He suddenly got a "I saw Ya" smirk on his face. My mind raced...... He thought I was picking my nose!!!! He thought he had caught me in mid pick!! I couldn't have him thinking it. I didn't want anyone to think me a "picker". It was at that moment, I began living a Seinfeld episode. You know the one, The very one. If you know me, you also know that things come out of my mouth as I think them...."Excuse me! Excuse me, sir". I shouted, my table looking on wondering why I was calling the man over. He looked over my way again, "Yes, sir, excuse me, can you come here, please?" The young man walked over with a huge smile on his face. "Sir, I think you saw me in a compromising position a moment ago", I blurted out. My girlfriends looked on, some giggling, others mouths gaping open wondering what I might be talking about. I went on, "I think you took me for a pick, but I want to explain to you sir, that there was no penetration". It was at that moment that things got loud.

Several friends began to choke on their food , and strangled on drinks. I knew what I meant. They hadn't a clue. There was laughter. Lots of laughter and other customers began to look over to see what the fuss was about. The guy laughed right along with my friends. "I know you think I picked, but I can assure you there was no penetration whatsoevah!" My friends were close to hysterics, I went on to explain myself, "You see, it's my nose ring, see? Right here? It was itching!". It was then that I lifted my finger to my nose to point out my gleaming diamond, I didn't understand why he had missed it. But then I understood, for it was gone! My friends then began to focus on my nose, "Oh, Leigh, It must have fallen out!" Ladies began to get on the their hands and knees, looking under my table, looking for my diamond nose ring!!!! 
The man, who now announced he was the manager, began to question what my "nose ring" looked like. The wonderful man that he was, was willing to assist this group of 12 women look for a....a nose ring. Of all things! What, for all he knew, had been inside some one's nose. We don't even need to discuss what goes on in a nose. "Uh, it's a diamond...." I wasn't about to call it a sticker."Oh, gosh! Get up off the floor!", I begged, "I know that it didn't fall down there, the booth was so cramped, it had to be.........in.......in........my pasta Alfredo!" Everyone looked up from the floor. "OH, no! The pasta!", one said. "Another said, "Oh no! You didn't eat it?"And so we began to dig, no one even looking at my nose, the focus was all about finding my diamond amongst my pasta dish. There we were, 12 grown women digging through the pasta with forks. I was not about to lose that ring, not after we had group 2 believing our little prank. I was determined to find my ring and proceed with them thinking I had gotten branded of sort on our girls trip.

It was a great gag and they were buying. This couldn't be happening.....NO. No! Not the Nose ring!!!!"Mam, please let me go and get you a new Alfredo dish for you to eat while you look for your diamond in that one", the manager insisted. "Oh, no! I will not allow it. It was my fault". "I insist". He repeated his kind offer. "No, No!" I begged. I might be ratted out. Ratting myself out.  It was then that I looked down, and by the grace of the dimly lit room, my "diamond" caught a ray of light and gleamed in my plate of Alfredo. "Oh my gosh! I found it". But of course, by now, it was in no shape to be a nose ring. The sticky on the back had been chemically changed by the high fat grams and hypo carbonated meal.  Imagine what it was doing to my thighs!

It was no longer. I began trying to stick it back to my nose. It was useless. The jig was up. I came clean, and apologized to the manager, who belly laughed for all it was worth, as did my friends. Thank goodness he had a sense of humor. And even after that, he once again told me he would bring me a fresh dish of pasta. I again, declined. But later he did bring over a dessert for all of us to split, "You all have made my day! Dessert is on me!!!"

And that my blogger "frans", is the infamous nose ring story.....So beware, should you ever consider a nose ring, that you too could be suspected for a picker. Do not be caught in a compromising position, a certain penetrator. Instead, consider a henna tattoo. I imagine the night would have turned out much differently had I done that. But then again, we wouldn't have gotten nearly as good a laugh and memory.....and bonus fat grams.

Life is good.


Hey- The Shabby Nest is hosting a great giveaway over at her blog. Be sure to check it out, enter, and tell her Leigh sent cha, ok?
Have a great day!