The first time I jumped out of a plane was on a whim – sort of. My youngest daughter and I had mentioned it might be fun to try, but that was as far as it went, until Lori heard a radio spot about an early season special on tandem jumps at Skydive Chicago. Was I up for it? Absotively! So there we were, two eager beavers signing multi-page waivers with harsh sounding words like death and paralysis, on a Friday the 13^th then gearing up to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. I’m not crazy – really! But I do hear a different drummer in my head some of the time. Okay, most of the time. And before you knock it, you really have to try it.

Even if you’re afraid of heights (which I’m not,) there’s something surreal about looking out the open door of a plane two and a half miles up. It just isn’t the same as being at the top of a high building or the edge of a 100-foot cliff. When it was my turn to go, I leapt free of the plane with abandon and was met with the instant rush of wind followed swiftly by the excitement of flying toward the earth at 125 mph. I don’t remember much about that first free-fall. I was too busy paying attention to my altimeter, anticipating the moment I’d pull the ripcord. Then my tandem master and I were under canopy, floating silently through the Illinois skies with a fantastic panoramic view of the skyline of Chicago, some 75 miles away with Lake Michigan spread out behind it. Way too swiftly my feet were on the ground and my first thought was, “I have to do that again!”

In all, I did 22 jumps. Nothing even remotely close to the numbers serious skydivers rack up, but each jump was a memory to savor. I managed to land my first solo jump in the trees, much to my chagrin and my kids’ head-shaking snickers, but I got better. Learned how to land it standing up like I was stepping down off a curb. I learned how to pack my own chute and screwed up the courage to jump it. And I got my class A license.

Skydiving is an extreme sport, and for most skydivers, it’s all about the freefall. That streaking minute or so when you are falling toward the earth at terminal velocity. The brief seconds when you can flip and roll with ease, or fold your arms back and swoop like a hawk as the earth rushes up to meet you. Most skydivers seem to wait until the last moment to pull the ripcord, and many fly high performance canopies designed to get them to the ground very quickly. But, while I admit to being something of an adrenalin junkie and loved the feeling of flying, for me the sweetest part was the canopy ride.

I liked pulling as soon as I could and still manage to land on the drop zone. I savored the moment I was snatched from my perilous descent so abruptly that it took the breath out of me. There was a great deal of satisfaction in looking up at the fully deployed chute spread above me just waiting for me to grasp the controls and guide it where I wanted to go. In the sudden hush, so different from the boisterous sound of wind rushing past at stinging speeds, I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of my ride back to earth.  The experience was irresistible and one I won’t ever forget. I haven’t been skydiving in a while now for a variety of reasons, but you never know. One of these days, I just might have to find another perfectly good airplane to jump out of again.

The hardest part of living at the beach is making yourself pay attention to getting things done that don't include enjoying the view, swimming or wading the sea or walking on the sand. I do have a dog which means I have an excuse to go for a walk several times a day - not that I need much of an excuse...!  When I first moved here, I balked at even going off to do errands like buying groceries or stopping at the library and post office. I might miss an hour of precious time in the sun. Eventually, my psyche wrapped itself around the fact that I was NOT on vacation and every day would find me right here by the sea. So, I don't procrastinate about the errands any more. The chores, however, are still up for discussion. Things like painting and maintenance, cleaning the house or dragging out the sewing machine to create a few new leotards for my grand daughters who've all taken up gymnastics now. (And I thought I'd sewn my last leotard when my daughter graduated from college and ended her sixteen year run as a gymnast.)

So . . . right at this moment, I have the sewing machine set up and four leotards cut out and waiting. I have a very blank GMC chart for my hero and heroine in the book I hope to start writing soon and more research on the historical background to do. The floors are covered with pawprints Duffy spread around after our walk in the rain last night. My hamper is full. I need to call my broker about gifting some Exxon shares to my grand children. My checkbook needs balancing and two bills just came in to pay. Zappo's had a security breach and I need to change my password and a few other things. There is still some woodwork that needs painting and my hammock stand could use another coat of urethane. And what am I doing? Sitting at my desk gazing out at the incredible blue sky and frothing white caps on the breaking waves, waiting for low tide so I can head to the beach.  Oh well, there's always tomorrow.....

New Year's Eve is a very different kind of night. It's a time of saying goodbye to last year, both the good and the bad. For some it's good riddance, for others it's been a great year filled with memories to keep close for a lifetime. And for most, it's a time of reviewing where you are now compared to where you were a year ago and where you want to be a year from now. Nearly everyone makes resolutions - quiet naturally born of the review of where we want to be next year when the tooting horns and fireworks usher in yet another new beginning. Whether we keep those resolutions or not depends who who we are and how sincerely we want to reach the goals we set for ourselves.

For me -- I'm excited about 2012. Ever since I retired and moved into my cozy little bungalow by the sea here in St. Augustine, life has been good. Very good. Hard to believe, but I've been here three years now. At first, I was reluctant to even go out on necessary errands, I was so anxious about missing even a couple hours of time in this beautiful little corner of paradise. But I've gotten better about that - groceries, hair appointments and returning books to the library no longer threaten to steal precious moments away from the beach. I've gotten used to the fact that I'm not on vacation when every moment needs to be hoarded, and become secure in the knowledge that this IS my life now, every day. I settled back into my writing and got involved beyond my membership in Ancient City Romance Authors. For the past two years I served as secretary, coordinated one genre of the book contest and ran their annual fiction writer's conference (2010 in Jacksonville and 2011 in St Augustine.)

This past year, I got involved volunteering at the Spanish Quarter which has been a wonderful experience. For the first several months, I worked in the leather shop with a wonderful man, Marko, who got me started learning the skills of leatherworking (I've still got lots more to learn, of course.) Then, last fall, to the disappointment of many, the city decided to close the Spanish Quarter and most of the people I got to know there scattered to other places and jobs. La Taberna del Gallo, however, remains open and bustling and I was invited to spend my volunteer time there with Jenny, Bill and Josh, who are the tavern keepers, as well as a colorful bunch of characters who come in from time to time, including the Bilge Rats (who sing sea shanties) Captain Mayhem (local pirate) and dozens more. The friends I've made at La Taberna add such color and fun to my life, I pray, whatever happens to the Spanish Quarter in the coming year, La Taberna will continue to be a part of my world.

This past week, I took a whirlwind trip to New England to spend Christmas with family. I started with a day in Derry with my sister and dad, then drove north to The White Mountains, to spend Christmas eve and breakfast on Christmas morning with my daughter and grandson. Christmas morning dawned snowy and beautiful. There was already snow on the ground but this was the finishing touch to a Currier and Ives holiday. Then it was back to Derry for dinner with my sister and dad, and finally to Massachusetts for Christmas night and the day after with my son, his wife and their two kids. I was supposed to fly home on Tuesday, but the flight was so delayed, I missed the connection in DC and ended up jumping on the Metro and going out to spend the night with my daughter in Maryland. Her two girls were excited to see me - surprise visits aren't something you expect from a grandmother who lives almost 800 miles away!! I finally arrived home on Wednesday feeling like I'd been traveling for a month, but it was a great trip - lots of fun, got to see so many of my family and enjoy a wonderful holiday. Time for a nap...........

 Jack, snoozing with the teddy I made for him. 

And so ends 2011. I'm excited, as I mentioned at the start of this blog, about 2012. I look forward to hearing back from the editor who is reading a partial on my latest book and an agent who asked for a partial on the book I completed earlier in the fall. I would LOVE to hear them say they would love to see the entire manuscript, of course. In December, I was busy sewing for Christmas, but in the back of my mind a new book was brewing and I'm anxious to get started. Tonight I'll be volunteering at La Taberna del Gallo to usher in the New Year. I'm looking forward to that, as well. I look forward to another year of life on the beach, daily rambles with my feet in the surf and Duffy gamboling at my side, in and out of the water. I am also looking forward to the arrival of grandbaby number 13. (Alex and Noel expect their 4th sometime in early August.) And who knows, maybe this year is the year I'll meet someone special and fall in love again. Whatever the year holds for me, I'm eager and ready so BRING IT ON!!!

All the sewing is done, all the gifts wrapped, AND they've been shipped. Praise the Lord!!! Now I can do a little baking, enjoy the Christmas parties, visit a couple friends and get packed for my trip north.

Last night I volunteered at La Taberna with Josh, and it was fun chatting with folk who came in from the Christmas bustle on St George Street. Some were taking a break from shopping, some had come to St. Augustine for a little vacation before the holiday, one couple had just gotten married, some had kids who enjoyed playing Shut the Box. Josh was serving up some mighty fine hot chocolate along with the seasonal hot sangria. You should stop in some evening and enjoy the ambiance along with a glass or mug of your favorite brew.

I've been doing a lot of sewing for Christmas and to keep myself company while I do it, I've been watching a DVD set of Bob Hope's USO Christmas tours in Vietnam. I always enjoyed watching Bob Hope's tours on TV back when they were originally aired and I miss them now that he's gone, so it's been enjoyable to see them again. Most of the time, I'm busy sewing so I'm just listening, not watching, but one thing stands out and I find myself putting my sewing down and stopping to watch. In the midst of all the humor, the pretty women singing and dancing and commentary on the war itself and the sacrifices the soldiers make, Bob Hope ends every show with the singing of Silent Night, inviting the soldiers to join in. That's when my hands become idle as I listen to thousands of men singing one of my favorite Christmas hymns. In the midst of everything they are living through, they come together in this one moment. I know that it's a Christian hymn and our military is made up of Christians, Jews, Muslims, agnostics and even atheists, but somehow, that moment still feels like a moment of unparalleled unity. Vietnam is a long time ago in a distant past most would like to forget, but our young men and women are still out there defending what so many of us take for granted, in places just as hostile and far from home as Vietnam was in the 60s. Right after they sing Silent Night, the tape ends with visits to the wounded men, and the price our young people have paid then and are still paying now is reinforced. On one tape, Bob Hope comments that the tour was finally headed home in a convoy of three planes: theirs with the USO troup, followed by one carrying the wounded, and lastly, by one bearing those who will never feel pain again. It's a sobering moment. I know that this year, as I kneel in a safe, warm church on Christmas Eve and hear the congregation join in the words of Silent Night, I'll be thinking of our soldiers, airmen, Marines, sailors, coast guardsmen and reservists. I'll be thinking of how far they are from home and that they are there for me, preserving the freedom and the way of life I enjoy. I'll be thinking of their families who are missing them and of those who won't be coming home again. God Bless you all and thank you for your service.

You just never know who you might meet on a Saturday night at La Taberna del Gallo! This is Captain Mayhem, one of  St Augustine's better known pirates. We also had live entertainment this Saturday - a Spanish guitarist and his son on drums. It was a busy night, what with the parade of boats all lit up for Christmas in the harbor and all. Some Saturday, you should come on down and check La Taberna out.

Somehow, on my way back home, I managed to drop my wrap and when I remembered it, late LATE at night, I went back to see if I could find it. Didn't luck out there, but it was interesting having St George Street all to myself . . . well me and the resident ghosts that is.
 

 
Two weeks ago, St Augustine began their Christmas festivities with a night of turning on the Christmas lights. St George Street is bustling with folks on holiday and locals shopping in all the neat shops. But one of the best places to hang out is La Taberna del Gallo - lit at night with candles and lanterns and serving up a great sangria along with selected beer on tap, wine and cider, the place has the greatest ambiance. And if you're lucky, you'll pick a night the Bilge Rats are singing.

Last night I dressed out and attended a lovely dinner put on by the folks from the Spanish bakery, then watched the Grand Illumination - British Night Watch parade which commemorates the years 1763 to 1783 when St Augustine was under the rule of the British. Playing tavern wench at La Taberna is always fun, but last night was especially exciting with standing room only most of the night capped off with the singing of the Bilge Rats. One of these nights, if you've never been to La Taberna, come on by and experience tavern life as you would have had you lived in 1740.

Me with Theresa, Jacqui, Juliana and Lynn

I had a marvelous trip to Maryland to spend Thanksgiving with my children and grandchildren. Lots of good food (of course) but even better company.

               
Lynn, Jack,               Philip                     Kit with his girlfriend Nara
Natalie,
Juliana & Jacqui

Fortunately, I'd finally finished my current work in progress and since I have a editor critique lined up, I now have to get my synopsis in order and get it off to her. Maybe this will be the one to get me published. Or perhaps it will be the single title I just sent off a partial to an agent on. Either way, both of my 2011 projects are done and out the door so now I can focus on a mountain of sewing projects for Christmas gifts, get my shopping done, the Christmas cards and the wrapping. And there is always the lure of the sea and the beach to walk every day. Life just doesn't get much better than this. And lurking in the back of my mind is the next writing project. I'm just getting to know my characters and the plot comes in bits and pieces. Come the start of the new year, I'll be ready to begin writing again.

So get busy everyone - lots of shopping to be done, Santa's visit to prepare for and family to enjoy. And for those who have no family, I pray the season will bring you some other blessing. One last thing, for our soldiers serving here and anywhere in the world, my thoughts and prayers are with you and your families too.

MacDuff and I went to the inland waterway side for our walk this evening and watched the sun go down. Summer Haven is a pretty special place to live: sunsets over the ocean in the morning, sunsets over the river in the evening and half a dozen different beaches to walk on depending on my mood, the weather and the tides. What more could I want?

Well, for one thing, I could be published in novel length fiction by now. I do want that, and I'm working hard toward that goal. I just finished by latest WIP and I'm feeling a little bereft. It's like these really neat people I liked a lot and who's company I enjoyed every day have suddenly pulled up stakes and moved to California. I know they're still there, but I'm not going to see them any more. Of course, there's the synopsis to write and the book itself to edit and peddle, but the story's been told and at the moment, at least, until I begin the next one, I'm feeling a little sad.

I read a quote today I wanted to share with you, by William Arthur Ward.
"The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails."

I used to walk along a little road down the middle of the dunes toward that little round dome of a house. You can see a bit of the road just across the NEW inlet to the river (the river is to the right, out of sight), but the rest of the road has been swallowed by the sea just as the dunes were. This photo was taken from where that road used to be, well above the reach of the sea, but my feet were in the water today.
When I first moved to Summer Haven this little house was completely buried in the dunes. Then a tiny bit of the front wall began to show. First a few feet, then more. Eventually the whole front wall higher than head height showed and the front stairs appeared. This past summer parts of the sides of the house began to show as unusually high tides swept away sand and dune. Then we had one northeast storm after another. The first uncovered the old septic tank. The next tumbled the front wall onto the sand. This last one completely destroyed the house and carried away all the dune that once surrounded it and this is all that's left. I wonder how long it will be before the dome house and the dunes around it are swallowed by the sea or washed into the river beyond?