Five Christmases in Charleston

2009 -- It is hard to believe this is our 5th Christmas in Charleston. Our tradition is to take a walk on Folly Beach on Christmas day -- rain or shine. It is fun to find out if the beach is naughty or nice each year.

This year, it had been quite bad for several weeks leading up to Christmas. There were record amounts of rain throughout December. Then, there were torrents of rain earlier in the day Christmas morning. When we arrived at the beach around 2 pm, it was only misting, but it was high tide and there was hardly any beach to walk on. The sky was dramatically dark, the waves were churning and the wind was ripping. It was a short walk. We finally retreated to the road to return to the car. We met a man on holiday from Richmond Virginia. He was very nice and pleasant, but clearly needed to get out of the house and talk to someone besides his own family members.

Santa heard me and brought a new camera -- so hopefully I won't find myself out with a camera that won't cooperate as I have so often in this last year. 


2008 -- This was our nicest Christmas Day on the beach so far. It was warm enough for shorts and we took full advantage. We brought walking shoes, snacks, a kite, books, and beach chairs for naps. We walked and walked -- from almost the pier, all the way to the point across from Morris Island and the lighthouse. We never did get the hang of the kite, but we came close and had fun trying. Maybe we need a easier kite?
We were hardly alone on the beach today. Lots of walkers  -- a smattering of surfers and lots of dogs romping off the leash..

2007 -- Another blustery, not too nice day at the beach. Dad died in April this year and Mom spent Christmas with us in Charleston. She wisely decided not to join us for the traditional walk on the beach -- and believe me, we didn't stay long either! The binoculars were one of Duncan's Christmas presents -- he was trying to try them out, but the wind was awfully stiff.

The day after Christmas, Debbie, Wilson, Adam, Jeffrey, Laurie and Brandon all came for a few days. It's hard to see why Charleston is so popular when it's damp, cold, and gray -- but they gave us the benefit of the doubt. Laurie gave Debbie and Wilson a night at a downtown B&B which for some reason they were not able to use for more than a year. But in March of 2009, they came for their night at the Inn and then extended their stay through a house-swap with us. We went to their house in Black Mountain and they spent some days here. I love presents that last.

2006 -- We were newlyweds! The forecast was for Rain Rain Rain on Christmas Day, so we took our walk a day early this year. The beach turned out to be pretty nice on Christmas Eve.We took a long walk and as long as the wind was at our back, we did great. But on the way back, we were walking into the wind and it took about twice as long. We had been to Raleigh before Christmas and the peanuts and Thirteen Moons were Duncan's Christmas gifts from Mom and Dad.

This was the year he gave me my first digital camera -- which was wonderful because I was missing Greensboro friends so much and I found I could send a picture in an e-mail and people almost always responded right away. Duncan has proved himself to have a knack for the right gift at the right time.

2005 -- This was the year before the digital camera -- so I have no picture! Duncan had moved to Charleston in August -- and I was still living in Greensboro, so, of course we spent Christmas in Charleston. We went to the candlelight service at Circular Church on Christmas Eve and spent the night at the Ansonborough Inn downtown. -- In the morning, we took a walk downtown and then decided to go over to the beach. A tradition was born.

My memory is that it was another blustery, overcast day at the beach -- and all terribly romantic. Duncan thought it was hilarious that the young woman working the desk at the Inn was wearing flip flops on a sort of raw, December day. We were just beginning to get to know Charleston.Today, we might not take any notice of flip flops in any season or any setting.

55 and Still Kicking

This is the birthday gift that greeted me when I came down the stairs yesterday morning. Nice presentation, Duncan! After a year that has pretty much kicked my ass, it's nice to have my husband give me something to kick back with next year!

And here is another special birthday gift, from Mom. I have admired and coveted and begged for this ring for oh, about 25 years now. Mom and Dad bought the stone when they went to Brazil in 1979 and Mom had a jeweler design and make the ring using the gold from her mother's and grandmother's wedding bands.

I  think because I loved it from the minute I first saw it, Mom always meant to give it to me "at some point."  This year has reminded us to ask "What are you waiting for??" and  I love that she has made it a gift to me now.

On Sunday, Bert preached about "temples of memory" where you "harvest meaning from the seeds of experience." He said Christmas -- or a birthday or any anniversary -- is a temple of memory. Mary, when she learned she was pregnant, remembered her grandmother Hannah -- and The Magnificat -- the "My soul doth magnify the Lord" part are similar to words of Hannah. Anyway, if bread and wine can be Christ, I don't see why this ring can't connect me to the spirit of my mother and grandmothers in a sustaining way.

I wonder what my grandmothers would make of red cowboy boots?. Probably in their lives, they would shake their heads -- or scratch their heads!. But hopefully, from the vantage point they now have -- they are cheering me on..

Getting Ready for Christmas

This is the early stages of Christmas at our house. It is hard to find time to compose thoughts, but generally these days of Christmas preparation are passing pleasantly. 

NC is getting socked with a snow storm right now. We are drowning in rain here in the Lowcountry but it is 60 degrees and is supposed to be in the 60s for Christmas. Bodes well for our annual walk on the beach.

Tomorrow, I'm going to a holiday brunch for the fiber guild. I have agreed to be President of that group next year. Why did I say yes to that? The same project is on my loom that I started last January. Amazing how life fills up with jobs. Hmmmm.

What I'm Thankful For. . .

This year's big thing is that Debbie died in April, suddenly, unexpectedly, and pretty much inexplicably. Even in that, there are a million tender mercies, circumstances that aligned in the best possible way, people who have been unbelievably kind, an entire family of relatives and friends who have found ways to help each other through. All I will say here is that I am profoundly grateful for her -- for my life as her sister, for the gifts that shone in her, and the good work she did so well in the world.

I am thankful that we now have a President who speaks in complete sentences and paragraphs. I just feel better when the person in charge has a command of the English language.

I have a job, a good job, a fun job, an interesting job. It has a decent salary, health benefits and 401(k) with employer match. Plus free parking. And I can leave it there. When I get home I can “kick off my shoes and waltz around my kitchen singing “I am a piece of work!”

One of the things you miss when you don’t “work outside the home” is – office parties. Where else can you eat brownies and artichoke dip before lunch? In my four short months of employment, I have attended two birthday celebrations and a very elaborate baby shower.

Mom and I traded cars this summer and I now enjoy cruise control and automatic locks.

Maybe the most enduring gift that came this year was when Debbie took Mom and Uncle Bill into a StoryCorps booth in Ashville and got them talking about their memories of growing up and of WWII. We now have a 1-hour CD that is a special, priceless record of family history. I’m also thankful for the afternoon the whole family gathered in Chapel Hill to listen to it for the first time, together.

As always, old and dear friends have been so important. Christy and I got a weekend away this year. I spent several days in Greensboro, staying with Julie Knight and playing mad Banana-gram. I got in an overnight visit with Pat Weathers, and a recent girls’ weekend at Lake Gaston with Lee and Kathy – board games also a fun part of that visit. Is there a theme developing here? The miracle, though, was when it finally made it through my thick skull what good friends I have right here in Charleston. Life is good!

We have especially enjoyed the good friendship that has developed over the year with Marcus and DeDee and 2 year-old Fiona. They live very close by and during the summer we got into the nice habit of meeting at the swimming pool after dinner and just floating and talking and playing with Fiona. It was so lovely for all of us and now, I think, we are just all very special to each other. And, there is nothing quite like being special to a 2 year-old.

I bit the bullet and got a real, grown-up cell phone this year and like it more than I thought I would. We’re still holding out on cable, but for entertainment are thankful for CNN.com, Netflix, and Hulu.com -- and friends.

It is Thanksgiving, and impatiens are still blooming in Charleston and in my yard.

Duncan. I’m eternally thankful for Duncan. He has been patient with and supportive of me in my unemployment, in my grief, and in my incessant travels. He often makes me laugh before breakfast and every time I leave the house he always tells me to “Be careful.” which is his code language for he loves me. Like I said, life is good.

Church at the Beach

Sunday morning Duncan announced he thought he'd like to worship at Folly Beach this week and he didn't get any argument from me. The temperature was in the mid 70s, the sky was blue, and we both felt the need to just be and listen to the surf.

So we broke bread at the Lost Dog and took our beach chairs and books and stilled our minds and bodies while watching an incredibly steady stream of young and old going into the water with surfboards. I had no idea there were so many people who owned wet suits. Before it was over, we took a short walk, but mostly we just sat and read and napped and listened to waves and gulls and felt the breeze. It was a good service.

Fiona the Alligator

Is she cute or what?

check out the
"crocs"

Girlfriends' Weekend #4

Well, this is hardly a picture of Kathy, Lee and me, but while my camera continues to be the most erratic piece of equipment I own, I must be creative with finding illustrations for these musings. I have been very clear with Santa about the importance of a working camera.

I've known Kathy and Lee since the summer after freshman year. There were years and years when seeing each other was a rare event. Now, we are not especially good at staying in touch -- not even through e-mail, but for the last few years, we have managed a nice weekend together in a different location. This year, Kathy drove from Manassas, Lee came from Staunton and we converged at the house at Lake Gaston.

What a great, comfortable house this is. It is much the same as it has always been, but spruced up a bit (freshly painted this summer in wonderful colors!) and just well cared for.

We first knew it as Dr. & Mrs. Taylor's house. Then, we came to think of it as Uncle Vic and Doris' house -- now time has marched on and Mark and Margie have stepped up to the plate to be the ones to deal with upkeep, spider nests, and guests who leave wet towels to mildew on the bathroom floor.

Over the years I have had a few mishaps as a houseguest there. Most that remain in my memory now were run-ins with snakes. But thank goodness it was not me who flipped off the breaker for the refrigerator on my way out the door at the end of a stay some years ago. That's all I'll say about that until I am sure Mark and Margie don't walk into a flooded basement next time they go up there.

As usual Lee and Kathy and I had an easy, fun weekend. Kathy always likes to plan menus and cook interesting things. Part of her challenge, aside from Lee being vegetarian, is to make the most of some key ingredients so that our grocery list isn't too long just for one weekend.

This time it all worked out perfectly with one meal a roasted cauliflower in cream sauce over whole wheat penne pasta (way better than it sounds, due to the addition of walnuts), and another dinner of cheese ravioli with salsa and black beans and a very dense, moist cornbread. Extra nice salads with everything and generous servings of wines. All good.

When we weren't eating, we walked dogs, caught up with each other's lives, discussed Obama's first term, Lee's plan to run for county council again next year, and played board games -- when have I done that?? It was relaxing and just a lot of fun! They were good enough to listen to the StoryCorps CD Mom and Uncle Bill made earlier this year. That generated a lot of stories about their parents and grandparents and how everyone survived The Depression and what they did in The War. The premise of the StoryCorps project is absolutely true. Everyone, everyone has a story -- and hearing each other's stories is better entertainment than anything else that is offered to us.

We had such a good relaxing time, it has made me realize how backed-up I am feeling all the time these days. To violate my own "No Whining" rule for a brief moment, I have a pile of summer clothes on the chair in the bedroom that need to go in the attic, and there is a large group of winter clothes somewhere and I'm not remembering where. I have a printer that is connected but won't print, we have a major leak in the shower that we can't seem to coordinate with the plumber to see about, there's a roll of very cool paper that I ordered for origami boxes that I haven't even opened yet. Oh yeah, and I hit a stray key while paying bills on-line and they deducted $4, 516.40 from our account instead of $451.64. That took some dancing. And the cat needs to go to the vet. And the cat doesn't want to go to the vet. Is everyone's life like this?

And Debbie is still dead. It is inexplicable that this is such a huge weight that it slows everything down to a slogging through the mud pace. It cannot last forever, but it is that way for now.

Even in this state of discombobulation, I am using drive time to mentally compose my annual list of all I am thankful for. An annual weekend with friends of 30+ years definitely makes the list.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Not Eloise

I'm looking forward to Halloween weekend at Lake Gaston with Kathy and Lee. This will be our 4th annual get-together. Very therapeutic for us all.

The Frustration of Not Knowing. . .

My co-workers are Rat. "Google It" is a quick response to almost any question that comes up. I hear it several times a day. I hate to say it, but between Google, Wikipedia, and YouTube, it really is amazing what you can learn. Never mind newspapers, will Universities become obsolete?

Best Houseguest Ever!

A couple of people have told me they've been looking here for updates about Mom's visit. I haven't taken the time to write anything and I'm sorry to say, we didn't take any pictures. It was so nice having her here, I did not want to spend the time at the computer. If 2 weeks was too long of a visit for her, she was too kind to let on.

She was totally a good sport about everything. She did not complain about being left at home with Eloise every day while we went off to work. She brought a fresh eye to my attempts at flower beds and pot gardening and she fixed almost all of our evening meals. I was in heaven eating my mother's cooking again! -- and so was Duncan.

Otherwise, we went to Charlestowne Landing and Folly Beach for walks, spotted a 12' alligator going into the pond behind Duncan's office building, had friends over for a dinner of fresh-caught flounder and mullet, went to the Farmer's Market at Marion Square, watched some movies, and just generally hung out.

One long day we went on a SCIway roadtrip to Hilton Head/Bluffton. It was a whirlwind trip -- not enough to do or see even a portion of what we would have liked to -- but enough to see that it was a really pretty area and know we'd like to go back.


While I was at work one day, mom greatly improved the appearance of this little bed at the bottom of our steps -- though the picture doesn't do it justice. She moved a very unhappy knockout rose to a place where we hope it gets more sun -- and put in this sweet grass, a pot of pansies, and some catnip especially for Eloise.

Despite every kindness, Eloise was her usual rude and aloof self until the last 4 days of the the visit. Finally, she condescended to spend part of her night on Mom's bed and let Mom scratch her ears. I would not nominate Eloise to work for the visitor's bureau.

Living Off the Land

September is "shrimp baiting" season -- when regular people, as opposed to just the commercial fisherman, try to fill their freezers with enough shrimp to last through the winter. The bait is a ground up fish meal mixed with clay -- pretty disgusting, but the shrimp like it and I choose not to think about it too much.






Duncan has had pretty good luck with his cast net in our tidal creek -- though you can never have enough shrimp in the freezer. One night this week, he brought the net in and found a nice flounder. Life is pretty good when you can have crab stuffed flounder with shrimp on the side and not even have to go to the grocery store.

Weekend in Savannah

As a late birthday experience for Duncan, we did a quick trip to Savannah over the weekend. We've lived here all this time and have never made it down there.

To my mind, it's a lot like Charleston -- historic neighborhoods, live oaks, Spanish Moss, pralines, shrimp and oysters. We did a couple of tours and felt Charleston tour guides needed to give theirs some lessons in customer service and general pizzazz. Have we already become lowcountry snobs? My favorite thing was just walking and wandering through old neighborhoods on Sunday morning.

Very pretty tree-canopied streets.


Gardens tucked away down alleys behind gates.


And of course, the famous "squares" -- this one; "To the heroic memory of Sergeant William Jasper who though mortally wounded, rescued the colors of his regiment in the assault on the British line about this city, Oct. 1779. Time has not dimmed the glory of the Irish American soldier whose last tribute to civil liberty was his noble life."

Wow, bet he wouldn't have called George Washington a liar during a speech to a joint session of Congress.

We drove a little further to the beach at Tybee Island and liked that a lot. We thought if we were to go back, we would want to go stay at the beach for a few days and make a day trip into Savannah instead of the other way around.

Tybee has an old fashioned feel to it, which I suppose means that there are houses on the beach instead of hotels and condos -- and some of the houses are older and smaller than what, sadly, has become the norm in such a fragile environment.

We were surprised by the incongruity of parking meters at an Arby's. Had not encountered that outside of a major metropolitan area, which I think Tybee Island prides inself in not being.

On the way home, we stopped at the Old Sheldon Prince William Parish Church about half way between Savannah and Charleston just off of 17. Though only a ruin, it was still very impressive.


Built between 1745 - 1755, burned by the British in 1779 and again by "the Federal Army" in 1865. Lots of civil war era graves surrounding the church and several with birth dates in the 1600s. It was a beautiful, quiet place, deep in the trees.

All in all, a fun, interesting little get away. We should do it more often.

Labor Day 2009

I can't tell you how glad I am to be ensconced in the American workforce this Labor Day.

My job with SCIway.net -- take a look if you haven't already -- is like working for the encyclopedia. Everyday I dip into random topics related to South Carolina history and/or culture. Everything from waterfalls in the Upstate, to historical churches in the Midlands, to keeping up with football results for Clemson and what they call "Carolina".

I write -- notices to advertisers, notes to anyone who contributes ideas, descriptions for the photo gallery, short newsletter articles AND I figure out how to translate nearly everything I do into computer code.

I get to ponder things like when to use an endash instead of an emdash, the proper use of semicolons, how to say something substantive in 140 characters or less, and how to load text with the words that help us in Google rankings without being too obvious or repetitious.

You have to wonder how the really crack English teachers are teaching writing these days.

For those of us who came of age in the 70s, there was The Prophet by Kahil Gibran. He had something to say about nearly everything, and about work he said:
". . . And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.

And what is it to work with love?

It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching. . .

Often have I heard you say, "He who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is nobler than he who ploughs the soil. . ."
But I say, the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass;
And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving.

Work is love made visible. "

I know I am fortunate to have found work at all, but to have found work that is interesting and satisfying and offers me opportunities to learn everyday is what I will celebrate on this holiday.

Good News Bad News

The bad news is that my cousin Donnie has died. He was a little older than Debbie and me and the "boy cousin" we saw the most. He grew up to be a real Carolina fan and sports nut. In many ways, neither of us ever had much in common with him, but for Mom and Dad he was a link back to Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Evelyn and precious for that alone. When he moved to Raleigh to teach, he joined Mom and Dad's church, which I always took as a nod to his esteem for them.

He has been very sick for a long time but has repeatedly rallied like the energizer bunny. But lately, he had outlived the possibility of regaining any measure of quality in his life, so I'm OK to let him go on to The Next Place.

Another cousin says so many people they know have died since Debbie, in April, that her children have asked if this is the season for it. I can see where they would ask. I was watching Ted Kennedy's funeral mass on TV today and found myself missing Walter Cronkite.

The good news is that my nephew, Jeffrey, graduated from his master's program at University of Chicago yesterday. I'm not sure exactly what he's going to do next, but I'm sure he's on his way to becoming Dr. Parker.

Work continues to be good and interesting. I love coming home across the James Island connector that swings over the downtown marina before it takes you onto Ashley River Road back into West Ashley. First I cross a vast expanse of marsh, which is bright green right now. Then the marina comes into view with huge yatchts and a mass of lesser sailboats. One day this week there was a group of what could have been Lasers clustered together in a spread-out circle; a sailing class, I imagine. One more turn of the road and you have to pay attention to traffic backing up again, but there's a nice stretch there where you get to really enjoy the view.

My Personal News of the Weird

Weird little things from my daily life these days:

The pool is closed by order of the health department. What's that about?

Duncan, who never goes anywhere on his own, will be out of town for his birthday. Since he's going south of Atlanta, it only seems to make sense that he should take the car -- that leaves me with The White Rocket for the weekend. It's been a really long time since I've had to use a clutch -- especially one that's nearly 20 years old.

Speaking of which, I've found a wine called White Truck that I've decided should be our standard house wine.

Last Sunday, a family at our church had their three sons baptized. I don't know the mom at all, but she is an artist and a yoga instructor. In my typical judgmental way, I had her cast as a groovy earth mother. Then someone told me that before she had a family she was a -- deep sea diving shark hunter! Wow!

At the exact moment of Debbie's death, I was getting my hair cut. Now, I find myself very reluctant to make that appointment. My hair is not quite out of control, but getting there.

At some point during the night, everyone in my house takes a turn snoring like a drunken sailor -- including Eloise.

When I was on my origami box tear, I made a pretty little triangular box from some very good quality, but old, wallpaper found in a closet during a clean-up day at church. A friend saw it, and said she knew the daughter of the person who bought that wallpaper. She took the box to her friend, who, in turn, gave it to her mother and sure enough, the paper was recognized and the box is prized. Tonight, I met the daughter.

Her mother was an interior decorator and remembers the house and room where she used that paper. She loves the little box -- Lucy said she looks at it and says "How is the world did she make that???"

Her mother is 93. She went to design school in New York City in the late 30s and worked in the city through the 40s before moving to Charleston. Lucy recently took her back to NYC for a few days and mom thoroughly enjoyed herself.

My little blog has turned 1 year old. Happy Birthday Fried Green Tomatoes -- and Duncan -- and Eloise!

Woof! Woof!

Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?

Even though this picture represents one of my preferred states, for the last couple of weeks I have learned so much that I am seeing html code in my dreams.

Not only am I learning computer code, but I'm also learning a whole new business (again), and getting to know a new group of co-workers.

Plus, Duncan and I are having to work out a new routine just to cover the home-front basics. I know we look like we've been together forever, but this is brand new for us. We haven't both worked full-time since we got married.

My brain is getting lots of new wrinkles with all this change going on. That's supposed to keep you young. Good.

My new office is in a not-much-to-look-at house on James Island, but the view out the kitchen window is pretty. The dock, I believe, is at the business owner's family home and the water is the Clark Sound that wraps around the bottom of James Island and then opens out to the ocean. It's pretty.

Gainful Employment -- Hooray!

Sandy Leonard Hutchinson,

grossly underemployed if employed at all

for 3 years and 2 months,
humbly announces she has a job,
starting Thursday, July 30, 2009.

A real full-time job with a decent salary, health and dental insurance, a 401(k) with employer match, paid time-off, and free parking. It is with a progressive, stable Internet business, so what I learn will increase my marketability going forward. That was pretty much my entire list of requirements for the next job.

The transition from Greensboro to Charleston has not been easy, and this employment piece has been the hardest nut to crack. I would like to think that we can all live with flexibility and mobility and take time out to help family, travel, pursue dreams that may not immediately produce income, but I'm not sure I could, in good conscious, tell another woman approaching age 50 to go for it. I am so lucky that Duncan has been able to keep us afloat and insured. These are tough times and many people have no cushion at all.

I sent out a celebratory e-mail to almost everyone I knew and while I got back congratulations and good wishes, I also got back notes telling me how hard work is right now. One friend wants to retire and can't. Another is not ready to retire but is being forced out. Someone else has had to lay people off. And more than one tells me that because of laptops, cell phones and blackberries, the boundaries between being at work and not being at work have all but disappeared and the result is stress, doctors, medication, and therapy. Aye Yi Yi. What am I jumping back into?

I just know I've been missing the things everyone else complains about -- having to get up on Monday morning, going to the office, a department- a "team", meetings, a mission statement and a strategic plan with deadlines. I'm looking forward to being involved with someone else's projects again!

Good Eatin'

We had a cook-out at our pool this afternoon for the middle and senior-highs from church. They had a lot of fun crabbing with strings and chicken necks and were very successful -- so we added crabs to the menu. We just steamed them and ate them out of the shell. A little messy, but nothing better.

Today's paper had recipes for shrimp and crab dishes -- but nothing that sounded like it could beat this one from Kathy Wulf.

Hearty Crab Casserole

1 1/2 lb. crabmeat
4 shallots, chopped fine
4 tender celery stalks, chopped fine
8 oz. mushrooms, sliced
4 Tbsp butter
2 Tbsp flour
1 C. Milk
1/4 C. dry sherry
2 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
2 tsp. Worcestershire
2 tbsp chopped fresh parsley
dash of red pepper
1 tsp. chicken bouillon granules
4 oz. grated Swiss cheese
Parmesan cheese
Dried bread crumbs

Preheat oven to 325. Place crab in well buttered 2 quart baking dish. Cook shallots, celery & mushrooms in butter. Stir in flour and add milk and sherry. Bring to a boil. Add lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, pepper, parsley and bouillon. Remove from heat and stir in Swiss cheese until melted. Pour over crab. Cover top w/ Parmesan and bread crumbs. Bake for 30 mins. until bubbly.

I'm accumulating crab meat in the freezer now to make this one. Hmmm. . . . who will be the lucky dinner guests that night?

Happy 4th of July

Holidays are always good. D had Friday off and we tooled down to Seabrook Island and took a look at Camp St. Christopher as a possible place for a church youth retreat. I could just feel the summer church camp vibe emanating from those shack-y buildings and bunk beds. But what a pretty place right on the water. The sand had mica in it, so it sparkled and my feet looked like they'd been dipped in golden glitter. It was a beach you could walk for hours. I kept wanting to see what was beyond the next curve, but the sky was that washed-out blue color it gets when it's just impossibly hot so we kept it short.

My niece Laurel is getting married today at St. Simon's Island. She wanted to have the most private of ceremonies in a beautiful setting. I hope it fits the dream and I hope no one melts. I got married once on the beach in July. My memory of it is not all about how hot it was, but several years later we went back around the time of our anniversary and I almost died. What were we thinking?? Who knows, maybe global warming made its way to South Carolina between 1988 and 1994. Anyway, here's to Laurel and Brandon with best wishes.

We are going to a dinner tonight and taking potato salad. How did I get to be this middle-age woman who actually wears red, white and blue to cookouts on the 4th of July? I understand there will be young children and backyard fireworks. I'm going to hum Sousa snippets and enjoy.

Wanderings

Since I wrote last I have done some South Carolina traveling north and south. We spent one afternoon tooling up 17 with Jim and Vicki with no real destination since we started too late to go to Brookgreen Garden. We stopped outside of McClellanville at Hampton Plantation just before a big thunderstorm. This is a state historical site because it is an old rice plantation and former home of several prominent lowcountry families -- Rutledges, Horrys and Pinckneys. Families of freed slaves continued to live there for several generations after emancipation. There is a huge oak tree there that was slated to be cut down, but as he was passing through, George Washington suggested they leave it, so it grows on. It hosts lots of resurrection fern that was furled out and lush the day we saw it. We got chased away by a hard and fast thunderstorm which was a daily occurance around that time.

Closer to Georgetown we took a left on a dirt toad and determined we were on the King's Highway -- the original route 61 that went between Charleston and Boston back in the day. We stopped at St. James Santee Parish -- established in 1706 at the request of the French Huguenots, it was the 2nd parish in this area for the Church of England with the first being St. Philips,in downtown Charleston. The present building was built in 1768. (Vicki was once a Charleston tour guide.) The interior is very plain with beautiful pine worn smooth to the touch. The cemetery had many very old graves -- one was for an "overseer" -- but also some rather recent ones. One from the 80s, I believe, was for a journalist in Charleston with the inscription: "Raise a toast for Jack" -- or something along those lines.

I spent a day in Florence at an engineering day camp for middle school students (don't ask) and in the following week visited another in Aiken. The group in Florence was in a chemistry lab, doing all kinds of acid/base experiments that get dramatic results -- color changes, smoke, popping noises. All 12 year olds think dry ice is pretty darn amazing. I stopped by the Farmers Market and bought some peaches before I got back on I95.

The group in Aiken was building Lego robots. Each group had a box of parts and a booklet with the assembly steps illustrated. It reminded me of putting together a bookcase, but smaller and harder. I think some of the kids were loving it and some were pretty stymied by it.

I can't believe I have lived here this long and not made it to Aiken yet. What a pretty place, once you finally get there. I think "the haves" in Aiken live the gracious southern life. The "have-nots", not so much. The land started to roll as soon as I drove into the county. I checked out the downtown area and a residential neighborhood right behind it where a lot of yard crews were sprucing things up for the weekend. I didn't really see anything "horsey" so I guess we have to go again.

Driving along, I enjoyed the changing landscape. In some places it looked so overgrown and wild I could just imagine Francis Marion himself slogging through the swamp. In other places, lantana, crype myrtle and palm trees were profuse and gave the view a more inhibited look. Houses were old and big, with wide porches and big magnolia trees in the yards. It was the the picture of southern rural summertime beauty.

We are determined to overcome our enertia and get out and see a bit more of what is within a day's drive of us. We want to go to Congaree, but it's gonna be pretty hot at the swamp these days. I think a drink on the beach at Edisto would fill the bill, today.

Mom's Garden Spot

This is the view my Mom has created for herself (and for her neighbors) at Glenaire, the retirement community in Cary where she moved over a year ago. The wooded area out her back door was one of the selling points on this particular apartment -- and to get it, she probably moved sooner after Dad's death than she would have liked.

But, as things turned out, we are glad she moved when she did. It is good to have that big transition behind her and the house sold easily just before the economy completely collapsed last year. She has really transformed this little glade from underbrush completely overgrowing the azaleas and camellias that were there -- to this pretty little area where the plants have room to breathe and flowers offer spots of color as well. She has always had a green thumb.

Spoleto on the Cheap

I don't have much this week.

Duncan and I did Spoleto on the cheap this year by volunteering to usher and we will definitely do that again -- as we have realized many locals do every year. You don't have much control over what you see, so your experience is a little random, but that's sort of the point of Spoleto, anyway.

We ushered for Don John -- very interesting staging, but overall, a bit dark and gritty for our tastes, and Good Cop Bad Cop, which was a lot of fun. We took tickets at the Finale at Middleton Plantation Sunday night and that turned out to be a really nice experience. People went all out with the picnic dinners -- some carted in dollies with tables, chairs, china, silver candelabras, table linens, flower arrangements and cooler after cooler of food. (We took a blanket and chicken from the Colonel.) The program included no introductions, no speeches, no thanking the sponsors, no previews of next year. Just beautiful music for more than an hour and spectacular fireworks.

Otherwise, I have a new "client" for writing services and several projects stretching into the summer. Today is Debbie and Wilson's 25th anniversary -- a well earned milestone for them. The plan was to be on a walking tour in France. I wish it were so.

"You are clear to Hamilton and Godspeed!"

For some reason, my fascination has been grabbed by the Charleston to Bermuda (C2B) race that started from the Charleston Harbor yesterday. Five sailboats along with the 140' schooner, The Spirit of South Carolina, are expected to arrive in Bermuda in five or six days -- so Wednesday or Thursday.

The Spirit of South Carolina, sailing in an exhibition category, is going to participate in a tall ship event in Bermuda next week, so it is just going along for show. This is the7th run of the bi-annual race, and apparently, participation is down because of the economy -- 20 - 30 boats is what they hope for. The idea is to highlight the historical connection between the two places and boost tourism.

The racing boats are: Nova, a 56' Swan (pictured in front of the Ravenel Bridge and in the other picture, to the right of The Spirit of SC), Cadence, a 51' Able Apogee 50 (to the left of The Spirit of SC), The Spray, a 63' Little Harbor, Tohidu, a 43' Beneteau from Charleston, and Grateful Red, a 40' Tartan C&C. Pictures are from the Post & Courier.

The coarse is 777 miles. After a day on the water, the C2B website shows Nova with a nice lead.

In other news. Spoleto is in town, Jay Leno did his last Tonight Show last night, Duncan and I will be celebrating our 3rd wedding anniversary on Wednesday night and they really need a stoplight at the intersection of Henry Tecklenburg and Savage.

Happy Birthday Bob!

I can remember laying on the floor in the dining room, in that miserable teenage way, listening to Rainy Day Women playing on the cabinet-style Hi-Fi, thinking that if I did not get out of that house, I would never discover my true self or. . . or anything. I was probably right.

Bob Dylan's music has carried me through almost everything since. I tip my hat to Bob on his birthday tomorrow. I may just go out and buy his newest CD to celebrate.

Driving West in 1970
Robert Bly

My dear children, do you remember the morning
When we climbed into the old Plymouth
And drove west straight toward the Pacific?

We were all the people there were.
We followed Dylan's songs all the way west.
It was Seventy; the war was over, almost;

And we were driving to the sea.
We had closed the farm, tucked in
The flap, and we were eating the honey

Of distance and the word "there."
Oh whee, we're gonna fly
Down into the easy chair. We sang that

Over and over. That's what the early
Seventies were like. We weren't afraid.
And a hole opened in the world.

We laughed at Las Vagas.
There was enough gaiety
For all of us, and ahead of us was

The ocean. Tomorrow's
The day my bride's gonna come.
And the war was over, almost.

Prairie Home Companion with Musical Guests, Polecat Creek

Tickets to Prairie Home Companion were one of Duncan's Christmas presents and the show in Durham, with musical guests Polecat Creek was last Saturday night. Except for the music, it turned out to be not the greatest show I've ever heard them do -- but it was a whole lot of fun to see. As they read through their scripts, they just let pages fall to the floor -- but they cleaned up each batch before the next sketch. And I've always liked Fred Newman, the sound effects man. Homegirls, Laurelyn and Kari were just great -- relaxed, in perfect tune and by all appearances, having a good time. They did four songs and sang along on several others.

After the show, Duncan, of course, wanted to prowl around and see what he could see, hoping to see Laurelyn, so we were lurking around the back entrance when Garrison Keillor came out. I fumbled around and pulled out the picture Duncan had insisted that we bring that was made of me with GK 3 years ago when he was at Guilford -- and he signed it and graciously showed us to Laurelyn's dressing room. She wasn't there, but I wrote her a note while Duncan prowled around backstage some more and snacked on leftover peanuts and grapes in the green room. That man can sniff out free food a mile away.
Julie Knight has the contract with Guilford College to photograph campus events, so when Garrison Keillor did a show there in the spring of 2006, I went along as her "key grip" for the evening -- which means that I carried her camera bag and sometimes held the lens she wasn't using. That night, the show was a long monologue with some music -- and the music was Polecat Creek.

After the performance, Julie was getting pictures in the dressing room and there was a Polecat Creek CD laying on the ironing board. I asked him how he liked them. He said he thought they were great and hoped he could get them on the show sometime.

Shortly afterwards, I sat down with Laurelyn to plan music for our upcoming wedding and I told her this story and she loved it. She kept saying: "No, he did not! What did he say?? Tell me that again! He said he wanted us on the show?!! Tell me the whole thing again. What did you say, what did he say? Get out!" We had a lot of fun with it that day, and I guess Saturday night's show was the culmination of that little story.

On the show they played: Kiss Me Over the Garden Gate and Cardinal Pair from Ordinary Seasons, Surry County's Burning off of Salt Sea Bound, and my all-time Polecat Creek favorite; Mama from Leaving Eden.

Mama, I know you can't stop the pain,
like no hard wish can stop the rain.
Mama, like you said, there's not much stays the same.
Better figure on another day of change,
We'll figure on another day of change. . .

Long rocking hugs of long gone yesterdays
when I thought I'd cry my life away.
Your long rocking hugs of long gone yesterdays,
Mama, they rock me through my troubles today.

Our Family's Experience with Story Corps

Somehow, Debbie made a connection with someone who works for StoryCorps and one thing led to another and Debbie got an appointment on the day after Mom's 81st birthday with the project in Asheville. The plan evolved for Uncle Bill to go too, and for them to talk about whatever they wanted to.

Debbie said they got to her house in Black Mountain and said "What will we talk about?" and then they didn't stop talking for the rest of the weekend. From all accounts, it was a golden weekend with lots of time for Mom and Uncle Bill to sit on the porch, looking out over the mountains, and remember the course of their long, good lives and tell their stories – some very familiar and some new. Sometimes, same story, two versions – you know how that goes :-)

The only thing missing was Uncle Vic, the oldest of these 3 siblings. He is almost 91 and lives in Chapel Hill. Between the three of them, they have a lot of life experience and memories are in good working order -- so story telling sessions can be quite lively.

For the actual taping, Debbie interviewed Mom and Uncle Bill and guided their conversation from memories of growing up on a depression-era, Piedmont tobacco farm before electricity and running water (Uncle Bill said “Sure we had running water – you took a bucket to the spring, filled it with water and then you’d run back to the house with it!”) to their memories of their own parents, to their favorite foods and least favorite chores when they were young.

They talked about WWII where Uncle Bill ended up as a prisoner of war in Germany. My mother was a teenager at home where scant news traveled slowly and a whole rural community sweated it out with them not knowing his fate and the whole community celebrated with them when they got word of his safety and release.

Mom and Uncle Bill spoke briefly of their marriages and of their feelings of love and appreciation for each other. At the very end, you hear Debbie thank them both for talking with her and she tells them she loves them. –It's Priceless.

On Mother’s Day, Mom and Duncan and I went to Chapel Hill and gathered with the Uncles, one remaining aunt, all the cousins and their children – to listen together and receive this final gift that Debbie instigated and orchestrated. It was good to be together to share our sadness over losing her, and at the very same time to celebrate our family’s story of strength, surviving and thriving, and always at the very end, loving each other.

This picture was taken last summer at Uncle Vic's 90th Birthday party. He's on the left, then Mom and Uncle Bill. Standing behind are the cousins: Mark Bowles, Me, Jo Ann Wilson, Debbie, and Marie Schmitt.