Back from Dixieland
By the skin of our teeth; our flight out of Charleston, SC, was truly a clusterfuck due to a mechanical problem, truly Kafka-esque lines for rebooking passengers, dueling gate agents. The only elements missing were climactic threats and human violence, the latter of which simmered close to the crowd's surface. We made our connection in Atlanta to get back to dear cool Seattle, which is of course what mattered most.
We spent several hours on Monday rambling around Charleston, along the harbor walk, through live oaks and past the occasional scantily clad heroic war hero monuments in Battery Park. Why Roman-looking fellers with wings and tiny figleaves were used to honor the Brave Soldiers Who Defended Charleston and Fort Sumter from the goddammed Yankees mystifies me. What's even more amusing is the teensy weensy leaf over the front figure's l'il brass balls. Not even ballsy enough to just let it hang out; I suppose it would make the womenfolk faint in horror. We
ambled around back streets and byways, peeking into numerous secret gardens full of more naked statues and gorgeous plant life. My beloved spouse and I agreed that we could probably spend a whole day taking photos around their historic district. Many religious groups represented - well, Catholic, with Our Lady of Ransom, Unitarian, several Protestant varieties, and the temple for the first Reform Jewish congregation anywhere, which had a sign in one of its driveways that read,"Thou Shalt Not Park Here."
We'd spent from last Wednesday through Sunday with Beloved Spouse's two brothers and their wives, as well as my mother-in-law and one of her sisters, in Myrtle Beach, in a couple of nice condos on Pawley's Island. I'd been fretting that it would be suffocatingly hot, but the weather was like summer on Long Beach, WA: Cool and breezy to very windy. We got in several good beach walks, everyone included. We managed to come to agreement on where to eat, if not always when. In one of the Litchfield lakes or huge ponds, we observed Harvey the alligator, who is nearing the cutoff size of eight feet, at which size a gator is removed and taken to an even bigger pond somewhere there aren't any tempting little fyce dogs to consume. Harvey was sunning himself on someone's lakefront property, and only slipped into the water when the owners drove up in their deluxe SUV. He motored off at at impressive speed into some back creek to satisfy his unthinkable needs.
There were many kinds of songbirds and waterfowl flitting, flying and lurking around the landscaping and out by the shore. We didn't spot any dolphins or sharks this year, but the usal assortment of jellyfish were stranded upon the strand. There was about half of some sort of good-sized ray with a huge bite out of one side, as if something had chomped into a big cookie and spit it out. Mainly there were clear skies and relatively warm air for us Pacific Northwesterners to savor.
And no in-laws were harmed during the reunion; we had a good time.
We spent several hours on Monday rambling around Charleston, along the harbor walk, through live oaks and past the occasional scantily clad heroic war hero monuments in Battery Park. Why Roman-looking fellers with wings and tiny figleaves were used to honor the Brave Soldiers Who Defended Charleston and Fort Sumter from the goddammed Yankees mystifies me. What's even more amusing is the teensy weensy leaf over the front figure's l'il brass balls. Not even ballsy enough to just let it hang out; I suppose it would make the womenfolk faint in horror. We
ambled around back streets and byways, peeking into numerous secret gardens full of more naked statues and gorgeous plant life. My beloved spouse and I agreed that we could probably spend a whole day taking photos around their historic district. Many religious groups represented - well, Catholic, with Our Lady of Ransom, Unitarian, several Protestant varieties, and the temple for the first Reform Jewish congregation anywhere, which had a sign in one of its driveways that read,"Thou Shalt Not Park Here."
We'd spent from last Wednesday through Sunday with Beloved Spouse's two brothers and their wives, as well as my mother-in-law and one of her sisters, in Myrtle Beach, in a couple of nice condos on Pawley's Island. I'd been fretting that it would be suffocatingly hot, but the weather was like summer on Long Beach, WA: Cool and breezy to very windy. We got in several good beach walks, everyone included. We managed to come to agreement on where to eat, if not always when. In one of the Litchfield lakes or huge ponds, we observed Harvey the alligator, who is nearing the cutoff size of eight feet, at which size a gator is removed and taken to an even bigger pond somewhere there aren't any tempting little fyce dogs to consume. Harvey was sunning himself on someone's lakefront property, and only slipped into the water when the owners drove up in their deluxe SUV. He motored off at at impressive speed into some back creek to satisfy his unthinkable needs.
There were many kinds of songbirds and waterfowl flitting, flying and lurking around the landscaping and out by the shore. We didn't spot any dolphins or sharks this year, but the usal assortment of jellyfish were stranded upon the strand. There was about half of some sort of good-sized ray with a huge bite out of one side, as if something had chomped into a big cookie and spit it out. Mainly there were clear skies and relatively warm air for us Pacific Northwesterners to savor.
And no in-laws were harmed during the reunion; we had a good time.
posted by isabelita at 1:07 AM
7 Comments:
Oh, yeah! Supposedly one of the younger brothers demanded a moratorium on political topics, since last year some of us were quite vociferous, including mother-in-law and an auntie in her 70's. Well, hell, last year was closer to the 2004 travesty of a presidential election, and we had good reason to be pissed off. This year, the aunt told me she had asked one of the sisters in law what she thought of Condoleezza, and the sil said she thought Condi was a very intelligent woman, etc. So the aunt knew there was no point in continuing the discussion.
Well, when there's a strong wind blowing at the beach, you don't have to talk much...
Did you type: "breezy to very windy?" Why, yes you did! Any windsurfers out? I've never sailed out in those parts, but there should be some one taking advantage of the very windy conditions.
Hey, howsabout posting some of them fancy photographs that you took in the historic district? Those of us who have not been there would appreciate it.
P.S. Welcome back to the blogisphere. We missed ya. Oh, and don't you love coming home? I always get that great relief when the plane finally lands and I get to deplane into the fresh, cool bay air.
Blog on sister, blog on.
Spike, I'll post some pics soon - check out http://blogs.salon.com/0001970.
'spike, we saw kite surfers way down the beach. No one was windsurfing along the stretch we walked, probably owing to lack of car access. I never made it all the way out to that stretch of the strand. As for the Charleston photos, my beloved spouse has it handled. (See Phil's post below) We were marveling over the little industries maintenance of such old places has generated: Wrought iron working, painting, ornamental stone for finials, satuary, sacrificial altars... One house for sale had a thank you notice posted which listed two dozen subcontractors that had worked on restoring the joint, everything from plumbing to Yankee removal. ;)
Well, we got to ride home in first class, like rich folks! Made up for the nightmare at the Charleston AP.
Yeah, you womenfolk. Good thing they put those figleaves on those Roman mighty men. I didn't realize the south had a naked Roman guy fetish. Does it harken to some aristocratic notion, perhaps? Yeah, those Romans were big slavers too. Maybe that's it. Noble slavers, of course...with tiny nuts.
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