Remarkable Women

No, not the Book Club ladies this time.  Another era.

I have always believed that South Carolina ranked right up there with Georgia in cotton fields.  You know.....“When I was a little bitty baby my momma would rock me in the cradle in them ‘ole cotton fields back home.”   I just always pictured Charleston ….isn’t that what back home means?  No wonder I was stunned to learn that cotton certainly was not King here in the low country.  Why?  Well, cause it’s low country. Cotton needs higher ground.

 Rice was king.  These vast vistas of flat marshland, as far as one can see, used to be cultivated in rice.  There are few remnants left of the industry so long ago abandoned.  Running a close second was indigo.  I remember that from grade school history, but thought it sounded a bit too exotic to be real.  But real it was and helped establish the royal colonies as a force to reckon with.

I’ve been reading about (can you tell?) the strong, remarkable women who in their day (18^th and 19^th centuries)  had to work and manage and direct business behind the scenes, all-the-while sporting a 20 lb. dress that could span 6 feet.  Coupled with a demure graciousness, these colonial and anti-bellum ladies could pull their weight and smile doing it.  Their names aren’t memorialized on city streets or statues in the park, but I applaud them and say “well done.”

Eliza Lucas Pinckney was one such lady, who at age 16 was left by her father to manage 3 plantations solely by her own wits.  With gritty determination, she experimented for 3 years with seedlings before she found the plant that would flourish.  She is single-handedly responsible for introducing indigo cultivation in the colonies.  No small wonder why we won the revolution. 

 

Charleston Welcomes Elizabeth City Literary Guild

I'm sure I have mentioned that I volunteer at Charleston Library Society, a fine and quite venerable institution.  I'm not sure I'll be welcomed back.  Book Club arrived on Thursday night for a long weekend of sight seeing, shopping, food and a bit of tomfoolery. We ate and drank our way up Meeting and down King, but did the most damage on Queen Street.  Husk.....Charleston's #1 newest establishment did not disappoint and dining next door at 82 Queen was everyone's top pick.  The weather Friday was perfect for a morning carriage tour through the city, followed by shopping the city market and lunch at Cru...another winner.  Cocktails and supper at our apartment was fun (Anne and Will Barnes joined us) and then we were off to the Dock Street Theater for a show....."Avenue Q."  Fun, raunchy and hysterical.  George was in charge of late night entertainment and he came through with Tommy Condon's, an Irish Bar that hosts nightly singing and drinking. We bellied up to the bar and joined right in until almost midnight.  That didn't hold us back on Saturday one bit.  Up and going early, we enjoyed a 3 hour home and history tour with Elise....Charleston's own Doris Day.  She was delightful, well informed and charming.  The tour combined real people's lives with the rich history of the city.  We meandered through the historic streets as Elise talked and we soaked it all in.  Lunch was another delicious culinary delight at The Blind Tiger.  In between all of this, we popped into art galleries and  a few shoe shops. Saturday afternoon was spent in search of Mrs. Whaley's garden of famed book "Mrs. Whaley and Her Charleston Garden."  It's a long story. 

But, find it we did.  It is were it's always been - 58 Church Street.  The gardens are not visable from the street, but we know they are there just beyond the wall.  Just the same, we snapped a picute of the front door for good measure.  With an ounce of energy left, we walked to the Battery and then returned (on foot) to the hotel.  Some rested, others left to shop, and some went to an art show at the college.  A pair of red boots and a nude painting later, we gathered at Charleston Place for a toast to the weekend and friendship.  Our last meal was voted as the best... 32 Queen located at 32 Queen.....lovely setting, 

We savored the evening.  What friends we are. .  It was just perfect.

We even remembered to discuss the book....."South of Broad"...of course!

Tales of the City

Part 1

The cast of characters that live, work and play at 164 Wentworth Street in Charleston, South Carolina are as delightfully different as the cars they drive and the dogs they own.  It was pure luck that we landed at this address and are sharing this busy corner with these folks, albeit for just a while.  The lead player is Priestly Cooper Coker (goes by PC) who is a very likable chap and runs, seemly with ease, a small empire.  Our mansion (literally) is one of several he owns and manages throughout the residential neighborhoods.  Supporting cast include PC's son Cooper, who we don't see too much of.  He shows up from time to time, but generally sends Willy over to cover maintenance issues.  Willy has lived here 'bouts all his life; he's friendly and likes conversation.  He didn't flinch a bit when George and I showed up on moving day with our UHaul.  Jumped right in to help carry load after load up these steps - 17of them to be exact.
This play bill gives a brief bio of the main players including a mention of dog pals.  On the ground floor is one apartment inhabited by the only undergrads, so one has to be lenient about the comings and goings down there.  I think there are suppose to be two guys, but who knows.  I have not met either of them - I only hear them.   Their worst offense is door slamming, often and loud.  All in all, they play a minor role in the dynamics of the house.  No dog pals on the ground  floor.
We live on the first floor up (remember 17 steps) in A2.  We have Woody of course, and are the oldest (and wisest).   Warren and Chris and Jules live next to us in A1.  Warren and Chris (female) got married two weeks ago and they have dog pal Sailor and ailing dog Slim.  Slim's deaf and mostly blind and wears diapers.  Everyone is most tolerant here.  Jules is a friend of Warren and Chris.  They all seem to make it work.  Warren is a law student, Chris sells pharmaceuticals.  Not sure what Jules does. 
Directly over us on the second floor is Christina.  She's a grad student at the Citadel and believe it or not, doesn't have a dog....yet.  Next door to her on second is my new best friend, Megan and her roommate Dan.  Megan is a delight and so is Dido her boxer.  Dan is delightful too.  He's hyper, very.  He is a ex marine, student at the Citadel and student at the College of Charleston and works for Charleston Place as the head concierge.  He runs marathons, swims the Ashley and Cooper Rivers and bikes relentlessly.  He's adorable and has several girl friends.  Megan and Dan are just sharing space and Dido.
Way up on third, lives Donna and dog pal Paco.  Donna is recently divorced and has a decorating business.
 She moved in a couple of weeks after us and Willy just got the last of her boxes out to the recylce.  It's epic how much and how big the furniture is that moved up the steps to her apartment.  She's trying to get her name out there and jump-start her business in Charleston.  Donna is closest in age to us...but who can tell.  I still look 40, right?  Okay, 45.  Beca lives next door to Donna with Bruce...her dog pal.  She works for the Charleston Aquarium and is an artist.  She's on the backside of a breakup and is making up for lost time with a stream of guys coming and going.  Bruce is the funniest looking dog I have ever seen.  George keeps waiting for him to speak.
There are others in the out-lying areas....off the driveway and in the carriage house.  They mainly keep to themselves and don't contribute to the dynamics of 164. 
The dogs romp up and down the stairs and rumble on the porch.  We all meet coming in or going out or hanging around.  Everyone is friendly and helpful, watching each others dogs and collecting the mail.  I was invited upstairs to Megan's last night to watch The Batchelor with four twenty-somethings!  Life is good.

164 Wentworth Street

Day Tripping

As glorious as this city is, the prospects for discovery and adventure lured us away the last two Saturdays.  Our day trip south took us to Beaufort, and our sojourn north landed us in Georgetown.  Historical sites and ruins, majestic marshlands and quirky road side junk markets were all about the trip.  We attempted to follow a guide book (my idea) that directed us point by point (of interest) from the moment we left the Ashley River Bridge to the moment we arrived at the Beaufort city limits sign.  We (George) forgot to press the odometer at the precise moment to align our car with the "book" and so it all went downhill from that point.  Not literally...it's pretty flat countryside out here.  A sampling - "At 10.3 miles on the right is the William Washington Historical Marker. (William, a cousin of the first president, fought the British under Tarleton at Rantowles Bridge and is buried nearby)"  Our view from the car window just didn't match up...not once.  Somehow we were a day late and a dollar short the entire time. But no matter, when we reached our destination, Beafort more than made up for any snaffoos along the way.  Charming all the way.  The homes, trees, shops, galleries and lunch were as good as it gets.  I give Beaufort an A+.
Our trip yesterday took us north up highway 17 all the way to Pawley's Island.  We pushed the odometer this time, but boldly ignored much of what was suggested.  We did, upon advice from the author leave the highway for a mile or so and found a gem of a village.  By far our favorite find of the day, McClellanville is a quiet Santee River community almost forgotten by time.  You can tell they like it that way and so did we.  The tiny Episcopal chuch is one of the prettiest I've ever seen.  I loved that the door was unlocked.

Georgetown was uneventful except for lunch at Big Tuna where they claim they serve up fresh Yankees every day.  And, the brand new Maritime Museum was a nice surprise and enjoyed.  The director, believe it or not, was born in Elizabeth City!



St. James Santee Episcopal Church



Charleston Library Society

Better known by the locals as CLS, this magnificant building and impressive historic collection is a hidden treasure.  Not by design mind you, it certainly doesn't mean to be hidden.  As you can witness by the photo, the building sits up and demands one take notice.  Founded in 1748, it's been around for dozens of decades and quite a few centuries, and is responsible for establishing the College of Charleston   Seventeen young gentlemen began the Charleston Library Society by purchasing the core collection of  latest publications from Great Britain.    In the beginning the books were safeguarded in their homes, during war years (Revolution and Civil) the growing collection was moved around for safe keeping, and finally found its current resting place at 164 King Street in 1914.  The collection is massive.  Much of the holdings are in open stacks, but the vaults are something to see.  One could easily spend a lifetime finding all there is to discover.  I only have until May.

Jane Clark has introduced me to the director, who has handed me over to the head librarian, who has given me a project....in the vaults.  I have mountains of donated materials to browse through and determine if the library already has a copy.  I'm sorting.  And oh, the things I've touched.  Queen Elizabeth's coronation program, early 19th century maps, first editions of cartoon magazines dating from the 1940s and on and on.  I'm loving it.   This volunteer gig ain't so bad.

Shrimp and Grits

Chef Melinda

I took a cooking class today at a local kitchen shop.  It was terrific.  A real class act.  The store is called Cooks and it has any and every thing you may need in your kitchen.  And if you don't need it, the knowledgeable sales clerks will convice you - you do.  The menus are internet posted, as well as sidewalk sandwich board cited, so it makes it quite easy to browse the upcoming schedule and select a menu you are interested in preparing.  Today was Taste of Low Country and for $25 I spent the afternoon with fifteen or so other folks making the best shrimp and grits I've ever had.  We topped the meal off with individual apple cobblers and even had a glass of wine thrown in....red or white, diner's choice.  Now I pride myself on my own shrimp and grits recipe, but some changes are coming.  I can't divulge all the secrets, but I'll let one slip...okra.  Go figure. 

I sat next to a darling couple from Asheville.  I told them I was dear friends with some good folks from Fairview, and they said they really live in Fairveiew but figured I would have no idea where that is.
It's a small, small world.  The rest of the people were from all over the place, all on vacation.
As it turned out, I was the only local.  I love that.

Kirkin' o' the Tartan

If you have any idea what this means, I'm impressed.  Kirkin' o' the Tarten is a splendid celebration of Scottish heritage and tradition, and honors our ancestors..well, those of us who have Scot blood in our veins. (Blair for me...research still out on George)   We were invited to attend such a ceremony this past Sunday at the Citadel and what a grand spectacle it was!  The Citadel's Summerall Chapel is magnificent with towering stained glass windows that filter the light across the room just right...down right holy.   When the "pipes and drums" started up and led the choir down the center aisle, the hair on my neck stood up.  Those cadets in The Citadel Pipe Band are brilliant!  During the service, tartan bearers were asked to stand and were given a special blessing. Then the entire congregation sang an old Scottish folk song, Loch Lomond (you'll know this as "you'll take the high road and I'll take the low road and I'll be in Scotland afore ye,") followed by Scottish Litany, a Gaelic Blessing and traditional shortbread at coffee hour. 

This was all done up in grand Episcopalian style.  How splendid it was!  Thanks to Anne and Will for the invitation and
Thanks be to God.

Rufus

It was bound to happen sooner or later.  Woody got his butt bit today.  I mean what kind of hospitality is that?  The dogs at Cannon Park were frisky this afternoon and Woody was the peach of some Boxer's eye.  He continued to hound (no pun intended) Woody and was persistent with his advances towards romance.  He had Woody all wrong and Woody got tired of being polite.  It was quite clear that this wasn't headed for anything nice.  So, Woody and I headed for home a new way.  A block or so from our street we noticed a woman and her dog coming out of a driveway.  Now mind you, this was across the street and had absolutely nothing to do with us.  But wait, this woman lured us towards her so the dogs could properly "meet."  Like a lamb led to slaughter, we skipped across the street straight into Rufus's territory.  Rufus was airborne before Woody knew what was coming...didn't stand a chance...and latched on to his hind-quarters with a growl and a bite.  I was stunned.  The woman said, "Bad dog Rufus."  I mean, are you kidding me?  Bad dog.  No s_ _ _!  (no pun intended)  Woody jumped backed so fast he pulled his neck out of his collar and leash and then just looked up at me and yelled (yipped) HELP.  We quickly re-crossed the street.  I told that woman that Rufus was crazy....and mean.  We think we'll avoid Barre Street from now on.