Oil rigs

 Another day has arrived. It's crack of dawn and my body-clock goes; "it's a glorious new day! get up!"  Opening the door for the cat I hear a hard drumming. Looking up at the palmtree all lit up, I realize the oilrig is moving! Over all the treetops this 'apartment complex' with lights to equal daylight, is slowly gliding past our palmtree. 

The drumming is the tugboats hard at work. One in front to keep the waterways clear. Two in front of the oilrig - pulling hard, two at the sides - pushing with stability, and two at the back - pushing hard. this way or that way or the midway..., and following in the back the last tugboat keeping watch and be on the ready to assist.  The street down below has a lot of  traffic, uncommon for a sleepy Sunday morning, - it must be people who knew of the move and came to watch from shoreside. In no time the seemingly slow moving rig, has floated passed us and is on its way to start work somewhere, pumping gas or oil.  We sure live in an area where we can observe amazing things. 

Isbell Sanctuary

 

Fog

 Jim: The fog is rolling in. I cant see the bay 

Just one hundred yards away

But that is OK 

Because it reminds me that I am near the sea

And salt water is my destiny

When the ships are rattling my windows with their fog horns 

I will be hoisting a toast of mulled cider to the Captains 

Wishing them, "Barnacles off the bottom!"

Misale: I love when the fog comes rolling in. It covers the bad and sad of the world. Visible are our trees, but not the streets. We are enclosed in our little world of us and God. It's so soft. May God be with us always, so softly.

2023 was a very different year

 Jim:  I never expected to live this long, and in fact I thought I would die in my 50s like my father did...genetics..... But here I am closing in on twice his age and 2023 started with a bang.

No, not fireworks. It started with our wedding after a whirlwind courtship of just six weeks. Oddly enough I didn't even see it coming, but just trusted my instincts. A year later I can say, my instincts were correct. What a year 2023 has been!

This picture is of an antique binnacle (the housing of the ships compass) that was salvaged from the USS Constantinople. A cargo ship I found rotting away in the marine salvage yard in Brownsville TX. It had been a supply ship in WWII and later after decommissioning from the US Navy had become a lowly “Banana Boat” until it was no longer economical to operate. This binnacle stands at the bottom of the 18 steps up to the front door where it constantly reminds me that I need a compass even now after all these 87 years. And apparently my compass is reading true as it led me to Mi-sA-le.

So now onward through the fog of 2024 with a true and tested compass. Maybe some sailing adventures still lie ahead, but whatever lies ahead, Africa, Central America, Ecuador, and more, I will be guided by a good compass. I thank the Lord for guiding me to Mi-sA-le, and guiding us through the maze of life.

2023 in the Isbell Sanctuary

 2023 is history.

Mi-sA-le:  My vision of the Isbell Sanctuary, has become more clear during 2023. Little by little small terraces are becoming more visible. Terraces on our 45degree sanddune means the possibility of walking on level ground, at least partially, and to be able to get to the orchards, the crop fields, the veggie factory, the fish pond, the tropical forest with its hanging gardens, and not to forget the mini golf course … Yes, dreaming is allowed in my world (smile).

Up and down tall ladders on slanted and uneven surfaces, are not the easiest on body and nerves. However, to trim the trees, and control the sails, to repair and paint the soffit a little, getting on the roof and fix the chimney raincap, - up and down tall ladders we shall go...

Loving our sanctuary and not hating the pests, diseases, worms, javalinas, deer, ants, rabbits, gofers, racoons, possums, and free roaming cats and dogs, who eat or destroy the plants one way or another, has been put to serious testing this last year. Everything in Texas is bigger- also the attack launched by the chiggers, mosquitos and no-see-ums. Surviving in paradise came with a price... but I shall keep on trying to get the garden to flower and deliver soothing joy to the soul.

Our delight in finding treasures, better yet, space...!., in the maze of things in the garage, is difficult to describe. Jim re-lives countless memories and treats me to a library of stories. So, our museum grows.

The right knee replacement of Jim was a 100% success. He's getting healthier, day by day. Praise God.

By now you might understand and hopefully forgive the silence on our blog. The terraces grow shovel by shovel...