A Wandering Minstrel, I

Last Friday, I flew down to Florida to retrieve the old car we left down there for the winter to avoid the ridiculous rental car fees.  Unlike my husband, who is inclined to glue his butt to the driver's seat and drive non-stop to his final destination -- I prefer the scenic route.  After I landed in Orlando, I picked up the car and drove an hour and a half to Crystal River, Florida and checked in at an inexpensive hotel. 

Some of you may know that Crystal River is the product of about 300 hot springs that flow ultimately into the Gulf of Mexico.  Even in February, the water temperature is in the low 70s and here lies the crux of my tale.  As warm-blooded animals most closely related to the elephant, manatees don't like their water any colder than 68 degrees, so they congregate in the winter at Crystal River to enjoy the warm springs.  Where the manatees go, people follow, and in a unique and rare opportunity -- and under carefully monitored conditions -- you are allowed to actually swim with the manatees and interact with this endangered species.  It's so COOL!  

Here I am in my wet suit

I donned a wet suit and was given a snorkel and a whole boatload of us took the 10 minute trip up the Crystal River to where the "Three Sisters" springs enter the river.  I had done this tour before about 10 years ago, so I was prepared with a disposable underwater camera.  I didn't get any great pictures, but I did get to pet the manatees.  Four of them approached me at one point and one of them had his face about a foot from mine.  They allowed me to pet them and scratch their backs.  On my trip 10 years ago, one of the manatees even rolled over and wanted me to rub his belly.  It's amazing that such a large endangered wild animal is so curious and gentle with humans.  It was a wonderful experience.  



Lots of humans in the water looking for manatees



The Crystal River is aptly named -- very clear water

A manatee passes under me

Two manatees swim by

I swam up a narrow channel with very strong current to reach the source of the springs.  The narrow channel opened out into a small bay with amazingly clear water and you could see the warm water bubbling up from deep holes in the bottom.  It was an idyllic place. 

We had a cold wet ride back to the dock and it was great to get back in dry clothes.  I dropped off my camera at Walgreens to be developed and checked out the local thrift shops for an hour or so.  Then I hopped in the car and headed up the road to my next stop:  Stone Mountain, Georgia, near Atlanta. 

When I was a child, we went to Stone Mountain several times and camped out.  It was a very happy memory.  I can't believe I've never taken my girls there.  Visiting as an adult and having been to Ayres Rock in Australia, I was amazed at how similar the two huge rocks are.  There are at least two different ways to enjoy Stone Mountain.  First, it's a natural wonder -- a huge granite boulder with a circumference of five miles.  It's also surrounded by acres and acres of parkland with paved walking trails and enormous old growth pine forest.  It's lovely. 


The second and, to me, less attractive focus is Stone Mountain as a Civil War Memorial.  In the face of the granite a huge carving has been made of Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis and Stonewall Jackson, all on horseback. Although the carving is actually much bigger than Mount Rushmore, it looks miniscule on the face of the huge granite boulder.  In my opinion, it mars the natural beauty of the stone.   Nevertheless, I couldn't help but be inspired by the story of Helen Plane, the confederate widow who set the memorial in motion. 

"Helen Plane was born into an affluent family, received a college education and married an attorney with a prominent career.  She inherited plantations and enjoyed the status of wealth and privilege afforded the planter class.  But by the middle of the Civil War, she was a widow, raising her infant son and her half-brother's two orphaned children.  She kept three plantations operating.  She contributed to the war effort by making clothes for her husband's infantry company and selling handmade shawls to raise money for the troops.  She wrote of this time:  ' Think of a woman as patriot, planter, manager, financier, treasurer, druggist, chemist, doctor, florist, spiritual comforter, teacher, muse, seamstress, weaver, shoe-maker, and sometimes artist and musician, all at once, and you have a true picture of a Southern woman on a plantation during the war.'"  

Helen's husband, William, was shot in the chest as he attempted to pull a wounded soldier out of the line of fire. He was taken to a makeshift hospital at a farmhouse and wrote one last note to his wife:

After the war, Helen moved to Atlanta and spent her time lobbying for a war memorial dedicated to preserving the memory of the confederate soldiers who died.  And she succeeded.  

 It's a story of love and bravery and fortitude.  And, frankly, I think William got the better deal.  Helen was left alone to rebuild her world and support three children.  

After going through the museum and walking around the grounds a little, I rode the skylift up to the top of the mountain.  Unlike Ayres Rock, which is deemed sacred so people aren't supposed to touch it, Stone Mountain has always been a tourist attraction.  The top of it looks like the surface of the moon and it's pocked with shallow depressions that fill with water and support small ecosystems.  The view is lovely and you can easily see the Atlanta skyline in the distance. 



The surface of the moon?



The Atlanta skyline

These kids made up their own game



A pool of water on top of the mountain



After spending the day hiking around the park, I hopped back in the car and headed for Danville, Ky.  I had received a call from Kate.  Surprise!  She has mono.  I spent the night in Danville, checked in with the campus infirmary, spoke with the dean of student affairs, and scooped Kate up and brought her home.  Back to the real world.  My wandering days are over for the time being.  But I had a great time.  

Miscellaneous

There's a lot going on around here.  Dad is getting re-married tomorrow and getting him pulled together and off on his honeymoon is going to be the challenge of the next 48 hours.  I'm sure I'll be posting some wedding pictures in the near future.

That being said, I don't want to talk about that right now.  Instead, I'd like to share some images of other things in my life.

 

I bought this little key ring at a craft fair a couple of weeks ago in Sebastian, Florida.  The man who makes them takes thick pieces of plexiglass and draws on them with a dremel drill.  The tree limbs are on both sides of the plexiglass to give a 3D effect.  It's really remarkable art.  He said he learned how to do it from his Mom, who learned from her Dad, who learned from a man in Hawaii while he was stationed at Pearl Harbor.  They practiced on the plexiglass windows of the airplanes at the base during WWII. 

 I love the little cardinal at the bottom right of the tree and all the exquisite detail of the plants around the trunk. 

This is a great deal I got at Cinci Estate Sales. I check their site every now and then.  It's an online auction, like eBay, but local and you have to go across town and pick up any merchandise you buy.  This is a pewter coffee set made by Woodbury. I picked it up for $16 and the coffee pot, alone, lists for $287.50.  The cream and sugar list for $112 and the tray for $190.  Of course, these are not new items and they can use a good polishing, but they're lovely and worth a lot more than $16.  I was particularly pleased get them because it resolved a potential conflict.  When we were going through Mom's things last weekend, I was happy to let Kathryn have Mom's pewter coffee set because I had gotten this one.  Good karma?

This is a comparison of two eggs.  The one on the right came from Kroger and the one on the left came from Kathryn's chickens.  I'm amazed at how different they are.  Kathryn's chickens are happy chickens who are allowed to run around and scrounge for themselves in addition to being fed chicken food and table scraps.  The yolk of their eggs is darker and much harder to break.  I don't know whether that's due to their living conditions or just a difference in the breed of chicken or maybe the freshness of the eggs, but Kathryn's chickens are very cool (and useful!).

My orchid is actually blooming AGAIN!  This is the first orchid I've ever tried to grow, but I remember when I was little Mom tried to grow an orchid in the bathroom.  It just sat there.  For years.  It didn't die, but it didn't bloom.  It was just green and completely unimpressive.  So, I concluded that orchids were too hard. Last summer, Kathryn, however, went to some sort of lecture where she was told all about orchid care and she pulled an orchid out from under the porch where she had abandoned it, brought it in and made it bloom.  So, I decided I'd try one.  I think this is a moth orchid and Southern Living magazine says they're the easiest to grow.  Last summer, it gave me a glorious show for months -- it just kept adding new buds to the end and adding new flowers.  When it finally petered out, I was ready for a long -- if not permanent -- dormancy.  A few weeks ago, though, I noticed a shoot coming up.  I wasn't sure whether it was a flower stem or an errant root, but I tied it to a support and it shot up and produced buds.  Now three of those buds have blossomed!  Success!

In other plant news, my heirloom tulip magnolia cutting on the windowsill has come from the grave like Lazarus.  You may remember that I had 13 cuttings from Kathryn's tulip magnolia that came from Mom and Dad's tulip magnolia in Lexington that came from my grandmother's tulip magnolia on the old family farm in NC.  Well, almost all of the cuttings either failed to sprout or died.  I only had two left, so I planted one of them outdoors to see if it could brave the winter and put one on my kitchen windowsill.  The one on the windowsill soon dropped its leaves and apparently died. In denial, I continued to water it  and, lo and behold, it sprouted some new leaves and it may live after all.  As Jeff Goldblum says in "Jurassic Park," "life will find a way." 

The View From Vero Beach

 This is the view from my window this morning.  Jeff and I have been down in Florida since the day after Christmas.  The girls were with us the first week and then they had to go back to college -- Ally, in fact, went all the way to Greece where she's taking a class this term. 

The time away from home has given me a chance to relax without the stress of everyday life.  I haven't really accomplished much -- I've done a little knitting, fooled around with Photoshop, read a little, watched the ocean, cruised the Internet, hit the area thrift shops, and just generally vegged out.  While I'm here, no one really expects me to accomplish anything and that's a good feeling. 

I'm about ready to go home though.  I've been away long enough.  I want my dog and my bunnies.  I need to get to work on all the things that went undone while I was trying to work a 40 hour week. 

Now that I'm liberated from that, I can get my house in order.  I hope.  By nature I'm a very orderly person, but you'd never know it from the way my house looks.  It would be such a joy to have a place for everything and everything in its place -- not in a rigid German way, but in a peaceful zen way.   I know you can never win against the entropy, but it would feel really great to get a leg up on it.  And if it takes a week devoted to each room in my house, that's only about 10 weeks.  I would gladly give three months to have an orderly house at last.

  ... And, then, there are the storage units to tackle. 

Well, I can dream, can't I?

Road Trip

Things are crazy around here.  On top of all the other craziness, I got a call a few days ago.  My job just ended suddenly as of this Friday.  It was always meant to be temporary job, but the sudden termination was sort of unexpected.  On top of my Dad getting remarried at 87, my world is rocking on its foundations. 

We're planning a trip to Florida -- actually several trips throughout the winter and early spring -- and the rental car companies really rape you during the Christmas season.  A typical car goes for $1100/week!!  So we've developed the practice of taking an old car down there in the fall and leaving it until the spring.  But this year we didn't get around to it.  Jeff's been working crazy hours, so I insisted on taking the car down last weekend. 

It was a long long drive, but it was sort of fun.  It was nice to get away from the crazy and be alone for a few days.  I had a couple of good books on tape to listen to and I was able to stop and see the sights whenever I wanted to.  In fact, I stopped here:  (Jeff would NEVER have gone along with this one)

In fact, it was a nice little tourist trap with free cheese samples.  I bought two hunks of cheese and a cool cheese knife. 

Most amazing of all, though, I FINALLY got to See Rock City!  The most venerable tourist trap of them all!  Ever since I was a child, I've begged to go to Rock City and nobody would take me because (a) we were always in a hurry to get somewhere else, and (b) it's a tourist trap. 

For the unenlightened, Rock City started out as a pleasure garden for a wealthy couple who lived on top of Lookout Mountain in Georgia.  The views are stunning and it's said that you can see five states from Lover's Leap (Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia and Alabama).  When the depression hit, the wealthy couple -- now not so wealthy -- opened their garden to the public for an admission charge.  The husband then had a stroke of advertising genius.  He agreed to paint barns throughout the South for farmers, as long as the farmers agreed to allow him to paint "See Rock City" on them    "See Rock City" became part of americana -- and I'd never seen it! 

So, I took golden opportunity while there was no one to complain that we'd be late to our destination or that they didn't want to go.  I paid my outrageous $20 entry fee and had a pleasant walk around some beautiful rock formations, and lovely gardens, and I saw beautiful views.  I SAW ROCK CITY! 

The entryway to all that is Rock City (and the gift shop -- who knew they would have a gift shop!?)



A stream running between enormous rock formations



Looking up into a Douglas fir

Most of the flora was labelled for identification

A damp but interesting passageway

The swinging bridge -- talk about a thrill ride -- it wobbles hundreds of feet in the air

Lover's Leap, where you can see five states



Trying to Hold It Together

Geez!  It's been crazy around here for the past few weeks.  The girls both had personal crises towards the end of the school term, Jeff is working himself to death, and my Dad announced that he's getting remarried ... right NOW.  My world is a little off-kilter at the moment. 

I'm trying to be happy for Dad.  I know he's lonely and Harriett seems like a lovely person, but I don't know her at all.  I've only met her once, briefly.  I'm finding it hard to imagine her in my Mom's place.  I know that she isn't trying to fill that role, but in my mind my Mom and Dad are a matched set.  It's disorienting to think of him sharing his home with anyone else.

And the way they've gone about it is ridiculous.  Let me vent for a minute here.  Not only did he spring it on me, but they decided to get married on Christmas Day.  I guess that made sense for her side of the family because her son from Chicago would be in town, but neither my brother or sister could attend on that day and, if they were excluded, I was seriously thinking about boycotting.  Of course, all of the planning and information was being transmitted through my Dad, who is often a bit confused, because I don't even have this woman's phone number or address.  I asked Dad yesterday for her address and he didn't know it.  He just knows how to get there -- he doesn't know the apartment number. 

Anyway, it may all work out.  They agreed to postpone the wedding until Jan. 21st so everyone can attend.  And they also met with an attorney yesterday to sort out a pre-nup.  He's 87 and she's 88.  I want them to enjoy the years they have left and keep each other company.  I want to be happy about this.  I'm trying. 

So, on top of everything else, when I came downstairs early Saturday morning I noticed water near the kitchen sink.  When I opened the cabinet, water spilled out on the floor.  I turned around and went back to bed.  It was too much.  Later, after I'd screwed up my courage, I pulled all the sodden crap out from under the sink.  It was a lot of wet stuff but it wasn't the first time I've had plumbing issues with that sink, so most of it was in plastic containers or wrapped in plastic.  The pipes were dripping in three different places.  And continued to drip after I turned off the water supply taps.  It was a mystery.  I sopped up the mess and put bowls under the drips and called the plumber. 

Of course, since it was Saturday, the plumber didn't answer and I left a message.  A few hours later, I left another message.  A few hours later, I called another plumber, picked out of a hat.  Fortunately, the second plumber came right away and showed me that the 25-year-old faucet on my kitchen sink was kaput.  The water was still flowing because the cut-off taps were so old and stiff that I hadn't turned them all the way off.  He didn't have a faucet in stock to replace it, so there was nothing he could do for me except charge me $100 for the service call. 

Then Jeff called from the airport.  He just flew in from Colorado and his car wouldn't start.  Would I come and jump him?  I tried, but the car wouldn't start and he went into a rage when I insisted that we leave it and deal with it the next day rather than waiting who knows how long for AAA to come.  He had had a long and difficult day and a dead car was the last thing he wanted.  In the end, I took him home and headed back out to Home Depot -- armed with an Internet video on "How to Replace Your Kitchen Faucet." 

It was after midnight when I finally finished installing the brand new chrome finished Delta faucet with two spray options and a built-in spray wand.  Everyone else had gone to bed.  It worked and it didn't leak (although I didn't put everything back in the cabinet until I was SURE).  It was a victory. 

Out goes the old faucet



In goes the new faucet



Waiting for the cabinet to dry ...

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

What a difference a year makes!  Yesterday was the anniversary of my weight loss surgery.  There's no denying that I'm still plump, but I'm 85 pounds lighter, no longer diabetic, off my blood pressure meds, off my cholesterol meds, off my CPAP, and much more energetic and full of life.  It wasn't easy, but I can say definitively that it was a good thing. 

For the first time in -- forever -- I've got most of my Christmas shopping done early.  I might actually ENJOY the Christmas season for the first time a long time.  I remember distinctly a few years ago when Sherri Buckley and I were in the bell choir together.  We were playing the bells for midnight Mass on Christmas Eve and both of us burst into tears because the stress of the holiday was coming to a head and we both had hours of gift wrapping ahead of us.  I don't want to do that again ... ever. 

The Christmas season starts for me with the Friendship Spinners' annual retreat at Shakertown.  Like many of the members, I'm not very good at attending the monthly meetings -- which usually involves driving a couple of hours to a location central to the scattered members --  but I try not to miss the annual retreat.  I've never met a warmer group of about sixty ladies (and several men!).  We joke, we laugh, we discuss our lives, and we go out of our way to welcome new people and shy people.  It's probably the most comfortable group I've ever been a part of.  I can sit alone and spin quietly or pick up my chair and join any group.  No one will freak out if I take a walk by myself and everyone will welcome me if I join in their conversation.  It's such a blessing and a release to be there. 

This year I brought curried sweet potato soup and spinach dip to the potluck.  I didn't make my usual springerles embossed with the lady spinning, and some people were disappointed.  Maybe next year.  The potluck spread was perfect for my new dietary requirements!  I could sample some soup and have crackers and a cookie any time during the retreat, so I could eat little bits all day long.  Perfect! 

I scored big on both the gift exchange and the raffle.  As my gift, I brought a Christmas angel made out of roving and 4 ounces of suri alpaca for spinning.  In the exchange, I received a brightly colored handwoven floor rug made of those little pot holder loopies!  It's so cute and cheerful and perfect for me since I don't really weave and couldn't have made something like that for myself.  My number was called in the raffle and I went home with a lovely skein of brown handspun shetland.  I also brought home one of the wonderful baskets that Ken was selling.  They're made in Africa by tribal women and the money goes directly to support them -- and they're fantastic baskets. 

Our room at Shakertown,  the cabinet cleverly hides a TV

The West Family Wash House, where we hold our meeting every year

Shaker woven coverlets in the textile museum

A shaker dress

A shaker shirt

Colorful beeswax candles for sale in the gift shop -- I bought some red ones

Shaker collars and underthings

The wagon ride all decked out for Christmas

Shakertown, of course, provides the perfect atmosphere for a retreat.  It was all decked out for Christmas -- but simple and serene as usual.  Lorain and I shared a hotel room, which brought my expense for the weekend to a grand total of $44 since I didn't eat in the restaurant. 

After the spinning wheels were packed up and everyone dispersed, I drove to Lexington and picked up Linda.  We went back down to Danville to attend a "Lessons & Carols" service where Kate was performing with the Centre Singers and the Centre Choir.  Danville's main street was breathtaking.  All the trees lining the street were festooned with white lights and it looked like a wonderland.  The performance/church service was lovely, consisting of congregational caroling and choral performances punctuated with pertinent bible readings.  Ally met us there, so we got to see both girls.  It was a moving ending to a happy day. 

After Thanksgiving

Sam is sad.  His girls left yesterday morning after being home for Thanksgiving break. 

We celebrated Thanksgiving for the first time at Kathryn's new house in Paducah (which meant a 10 hour round trip on Thanksgiving day for Jeff and Ally).  Kate and Dad and I went down on Tuesday and stayed until Friday afternoon. 

Unfortunately, my camera battery was dead on Thanksgiving so I didn't get any pictures when everyone was together.  Here are some pictures of the day after and a cool video of Uncle John's Model T in action. 

My niece, Mary Beth, and her boyfriend, Ted.  Mary Beth is working on her PhD in Mathematics at Duke
 and Ted is at Boston University working on a PhD in Physics.  They're adorable together!

Kate teaches the chickens to cross the road.

Kate and one of Aunt Kathryn's very tame chickens

My nephew William practices the fine art of chicken tossing.

Taffy is a good dog.

My sister Kathryn presides over her table with my nephew Jay

Kate poses in Uncle John's Model T truck

Just turn your head sideways ....

By the way, Kate seems to be over whatever it was that was bothering her.  It has been a tense couple of weeks with lots of doctors and tests -- but no one could quantify anything but a racing heartbeat and some strange blood pressures.  Larry thinks it was a "perfect storm" of stress, a flu bug, and a reaction to some medication -- none of which would have caused her symptoms independently but all together they packed a punch.  Anyway, I'm glad she's feeling better and thanks to everyone for your concern and prayers.