Songs, Surf and Soul Mates

Meditation Beneath the Bodhi Tree

Blog 4

(2010/04/05)

Confederate Station

The campground crowd drove up the Golden Isle Parkway to Confederate Station - that's the big building way back in the field, at the end of the dirt trail, beside the funeral home. Same owner. The promise was an evening of semi-bluegrass music and BBQ Buffet for $10.

It was totally packed with persons from near and far.

Monday Evening Snowbird Campfire Dining

I walked back to the washroom before sitting down. Someone went by and said, “Hi!”. I replied in kind but only glanced at the speaker. There was a familiarity. On the way back to the table, I sought out the speaker.

Ahhhh..... it was the sometimes moderator of the Woodbine Opry that we have frequented over the years.

(We had just sworn off Woodbine. Our last visit was painful. The singers and musicians – twenty-five on the stage at one time – were absolutely terrible. It was like all twenty-five were playing their own concert at the same time. Different tempos, a dominant banjo, songs always the same. Most of the songs were about a better world “up there”. I guess the “up there” world was created by a different god than the one that created the world “down here”.)

After recognizing the moderator – owner – funeral director, I started looking around. Sure enough. I spotted singers from Woodbine. I figured they were either there to book their trip to the world “up there” or were going to sing.

The official group of musicians were good. They sang C and W mixed with a variety of other tunes. They played and played. No food yet. Now “guest” singers began to do solo appearances. Sure enough, all those Woodbine singers were up and singing the same songs that they have always sung.

However, the campground buddies at the table were great entertainment. We were introducing ourselves and sharing stories.

A pause in the music. The mortician announced that, in spite of the huge crowd, there would not be any shortage of food. Hmm.. I was sitting at the last table to hit the food line. His announcement was not entirely accurate.

I ate my BBQ pork and beans and enjoyed the company. Conversations were sometimes interrupted by a local clogging group. Dressed in frilly short skirts, they tapped and danced their way through a variety of music including a few gospel songs. Now I have seen some interpretative dances in church and I have always enjoyed the Salvation Army girls with their ribbon decorated tambourines but – clog dancing? I don't think I am ready for that.

The View on My Morning Walk

Beat the Surf

I like to have my breakfast and then go for my walk. This is never before 9:30. Usually Cathy is not ready to accompany me. I put on my favorite radio station and away I go down to Driftwood Beach. On Wednesday she was ready to join me. We get to the beach; I look at the shells then I am ready to walk back. She suggests that we go west along the beach to the Fishing Pier down at Clam Shell Road. This makes the journey 3 times as long as normal and there are other factors to consider. I caution her that once we start there is no turning back.

Racing Around the Driftwood

The other factors: it has only been two hours since high tide and the beach is far from its normal low tide width. On Driftwood Beach that becomes a problem. You have the surf to contend with as you wend your way around sun-bleached dead pines and dead oaks scattered on the sand along with the odd palm.

The skill requirements here are quick bursts of speed & a good sense of timing. You have to avoid getting hung up on a tree root while trying to beat the next wave. The goal is to make the journey along Driftwood Beach to Clam Shell Creek without getting wet. Along the way you become distracted by birds, shells, crabs, surf and patterned driftwood.

Language of the Sea

As we start out out I mumble, “There is one other problem.” She doesn't seem to pick up on what I said but I think she must remember what awaits about five hundred feet from the finish line.

Just before our declared finish line is the outlet stream for a large marsh. The marsh drains as the tide goes out. This tidal outlet can be as wide as 25 feet and as deep as 3 feet when it starts to drain. At low tide it narrows down to a width of 4 feet. One can jump the 4 feet but 25?

Sure enough, with the end in view, the marsh was still draining. No way across. We had to return. The the ocean and the tide had won.

An Angry Ocean

Soul Mate Discovery

Ever since South Carolina Governor Sanford went to Argentina to be with his soul mate, I have have given this topic some thought. He became angry with his wife; she wouldn't let him go for another visit with his lover. He accused her of not wishing the best for him. (She eventually gave in and sent him with a chaperone!)

Events on this trip have brought that topic to surface again.

I looked out the trailer window. There she was – my neighbor – ball cap on and broom in hand – on top of her trailer sweeping then washing.

That brought back memories. Lebanon, Tennessee – a trailer guarded by a blue and white plaster Virgin Mary – small children running around – on the roof, a young mother cleaning. I gave it some thought: would I woo the woman? She takes care of her RV but what about the children? In the course of time they would grow up and move and I'd be left with a roof-washing woman. There were possibilities here.

Some where I missed a path. Cathy does not do roofs. Did I miss the path to my soul mate – the one who would climb the flimsy ladder with a bucket in hand to scrub the rubber RV roof? It is at moments like these when I start thinking: “eharmony dot com”.

Oh, oh, oh.... I no longer need eharmony; I know for sure! My neighbor just told me that she climbs on to the roof after every rain, to sweep off excess water!

Regardless of the pleasures that surround me, I have declared this day to be “Wash and Wax Day”. This morning I will toss supplies into a pail and pull it up to the roof with a rope. My Bucket List is one of soap, towels and a brush.

I'll be sprayed thoroughly with Deet. This magical chemical will keep the miniscule monsters at bay. The no-see-ums feast on these warm days.

I finish the sweeping and washing. The ball cap goddess awaits me at the bottom of the ladder.

“I heard you playing the banjo last night. Sounds really great.”

I looked to see if Cathy is listening at the window.

“Thank you,” I grinned. “It really is a ukulele and I am just learning.”

I wonder if Cathy would let me visit with my soul mate? I mean - I wouldn't have to travel to Argentina or any place like that.

Cathy was listening. She said it would only happen in the better world “up there”.

Express Lane to the Better World Up There

Okefenokee Reflections

Spring 2010 - #3

Sunset: Looking toward Brunswick from Jekyll Is.

What's In a Name?
(2010/03/13)

How does one choose where to live? If you have a choice of location would you choose Bland, Virginia or Prosperity, West Virginia? There is also a Prosperity, PA, so that does give you more options. (Intercourse, PA has always been intriguing.) Maybe Asians have a good idea by using Feng Shui to determine home location as well as placement of furniture in the house.
In our town, some residents want to change their house number because the present one is not a symbol of Good Fortune. I think I would change mine to 444. When you press the Shift key, on the keyboard, 444 becomes $$$. This I like. Of course, our town, using what little wisdom it has, will be collecting a fee for number changes. For the town, Feng Shui could be the road to Prosperity.

And speaking of Town Councils. I love the one here in Brunswick, GA. For sometime they have been debating the placement of a jail expansion. Some councilors are guilty of hiding pertinent facts. Accusations have been hurled back and forth. The best is the names one counselor has given to three of his adversaries: Tweedledee, Tweedledum and Moron. Got to love it!

Magnolia: First of the Season, Blufton, SC

Names. I love names. Dickens and Trollope used definitive names for their novel characters: Bumble, Micawber, Skimpole and Pecksniff.
There are names that just sound so right. They roll off the tongue in such a way that they sound like music. One student, from my teaching career, was Julia Joyce VanWilligen. Say that over and over. It reminds me of “T'was brillig and the slithy tove did gyre and gimble in the wabe”. (Lewis Carroll)
I have just come across another name that I love. This belongs to a member of a church we visited on this trip: Joely Tweel. She is the Worship Associate at a church in SC. It just feels so good to say that name.

Marsh at Sunset

Hearing aids can be a delight sometimes. On a very cold morning in Morgantown, VA., we were seated at a local McDonald's having breakfast. Nearby, was a group of friends: the good old guys with lots of stories and lots of time to tell them.
I overheard one gentlemen assessing the opinions of another: “He says those kinds of things 'cause he's a Klu Klucker.”
Now that got me to thinking. (Always a dangerous hobby of mine.) There are certain areas in the South where I would consider opening an all-day breakfast chain of restaurants.
I'd call them:

Klapp's Klu Klucks & Ham - Start the Day with Attitude

Of course the addresses would be "444" some street or avenue.

A Nice Afternoon in Savannah

Not far back in our journey, Savannah, I think, a mobile home pulled into the campground. Lashed to the top of this vehicle were two kayaks. The ropes were 'firmly' tied to his refrigerator exhaust vent and his roof top TV antenna. Guess Tweedledee and Moron were out on vacation.

A Mermaid

Early March Trip2010 #2

Early March 2010 (Blog entry 2)

Blue... blue..... blue..... blue.... blue.... blue.... round and round the flashing light goes.

The light appeared one night after I entered a small South Carolina town.

The car, I had been patiently following for many miles, turned into a lane by the Chapel of Love. I pressed the pedal and swerved around him, increasing my speed from 40 mph to 45 mph.

Blue... blue...

I moved to the shoulder and took out my license. The officer looked at my license and asked my age.

“63”

“Hmmm... That is close to being a senior and I don't ticket seniors. Have a blessed evening.”

I wished him the same and drove off. Cathy just shook her head murmured something about horseshoes.

And, you know, it was actually on the tip of my tongue to argue with the officer. A voice in my head kept saying, “Shut your mouth, Fool”. I listened.

And, by the way, a neighbor in River Bottom Farm RV Park had the same experience with same officer.

Friday night in Galax, Virginia. For us that means going to the Smokehouse for supper. Ribs, fries, slaw and a draft. After wiping the sauce from my face, we make a thirty-second walk to the Rex Theater. Tonight it is Rich Tradition. Good singing and playing. Two hours of foot stomping music broadcast live over WBRF.

Most of the year I listen to the Friday concert at home in front of the fireplace but, once in a while we stop by the Rex on our way south. Next year, or in the Fall, we are going to catch the bluegrass jams in Floyd.

On the way down to Galax, we stopped for a night in Morgantown, West Virginia. They were totally buried in snow. A week later it was continuing to snow so they closed the schools for two weeks.

Watching the 2010 Winter Olympics on US TV has been somewhat of a challenge over the past two weeks. Last night's coverage of the Closing Ceremonies was basically a long commercial interspersed by shots of the ceremonies. However, the commentators were worth a listen. As the large animal balloons entered the stadium, I heard the announcer proclaim that here come the quintessential inflatable Canadian beavers! There was a pregnant, embarrassed pause, followed by: “.. and moose, too!”

I tried watching Olympic clips on on the internet. NBC kept asking for the name of the company that provides my computer service and the Canadian CTV network kept telling me I couldn't watch because I wasn't in Canada. Unfortunately, my HOTSPOT program does not work on Canadian locations. Oh, well, such are the trials and tribulations of traveling.

Too cold for yachting at Hilton Head

I have been rather lax with my Blog responsibilities this trip; there just seems to be so much else to do. We are not basking in the warmth of the sun. Basking in cold air is not very appealing.

Man-Chairs @ Hilton Head

(And speaking of weather – here in Savannah there is a possibility of snow on Tuesday night. Yes, that is a prediction of white fluffy stuff for March 2. We heard that prediction last year, as well. Last night the temperature was only supposed to go down to 34 degrees F. Not all prognostications are correct. The water was very, very slow coming out of the tap this morning – a good indication of ice in the hose.)

Savannah Nature Preserve - View of the Ship Yards

The weather affected what we saw, or didn't see, during our picnic/drive through the Savannah Nature Preserve. The reptiles were not sunning on mud banks. The cold air was propelled over the wetlands by strong winds. The gators found it warmer to stay buried in the mud.

Cathy in the Spanish Moss BUT not touching her hair!

We know what is in the moss! :o)

The SNP is well worth the visit anyway. It is a four mile, one way drive through the wetlands with places to stop, read markers, or walk. A couple of sections are narrow roads overhung by moss-covered live oaks. Even on cold days, it is a good place for birding.

More moss in the SNP and a Flap Gate.

Flap gates were designed to be use with the cycle of tides to flood and drain rice fields.

And speaking of live oak alley ways; Bluffton, SC is a good place to visit. It is a small village on the outskirts of Hilton Head. It has some nice camera-ready streets over arched by live oaks. Once again, I wonder why towns don't plant live oaks. The trees seem to last forever, but they don't. We are viewing the results of thoughtful ancestors. We need to plant for the future.

We were in Bluffton to find the Low Country Unitarian Universalist Church. Notice that I said “find”. “Find” always precedes our “attendance” at church. More and more it seems that my map programs only guess where places are. I use Google Maps and I use Streets and Trips. They both contain elements of truth but never the whole truth. (We always give ourselves an extra margin of seeking-time.)

We did locate the very nice looking building.

Friendly and welcoming. A large congregation – more than the “90 members” listed on the internet – a good number of children and young teens. There were a large crop of visitors plus a lot of retirees from northern climes. We had many conversations with ex-northerners.

A lot of the churches we visit introduce their hymn singing with an apology for the lack of quality. UUs have to stop doing that. Enjoy the moment! There were some 'characters' amongst the children and they were giving the songs their full energy. No embarrassment! Come on adults!

During the announcements we were encouraged to keep on eye on the children during coffee time just to make sure they didn't wander back to the pond. This provokes some interest. Myself and a visitor from Maine made a futile search for the pond. She remarked how UUs would like to become more well-known but they always are hard to find. I surmised that she uses the same map programs that I do.

I must not forget to say that we wore our Aiken UU t-shirts to church. We will do the same in Brunswick next Sunday. It is a bit of a lark. Friendly Southern rivalry.

A trailer from PA pulled in yesterday. I think it was white when he bought it. Now it is a sickly gray color. That is another reason we leave our RV down south. Removing the stain of winter is a nuisance.

(2010/03/01)

SPRING 2010 - Preamble

February 16 - Starting

The truck is loaded! Aside from the usual assortment of essential electronics and maps, there is a tall stack of butter tarts. Not to be seen on the U.S. side of the border, they are a delicacy for our southern friends. However, if we do become delayed in a snow bank, those nectar-containing tarts will become survival food!

Our vehicle is pointed toward Jekyll Island, Georgia with appropriate interludes in Galax, VA, Swansea, SC and Savannah, GA. We'll try to do blog postings weekly.

A Visit
This evening we stop to feed with friends. The Fosters in Fonthill are CAs - Camping Associates - from way back. We'll sit around the table to do a Shrove Tuesday slathering of syrup on pancakes and sausage. The day will end with a cheesecake confection and apple pie.
Of course, conversation will be the highlight, not the confection.

Join us on this journey!