'Nothing Could Be Finer'

I’ve been reminded that it’s been a while since I’ve posted.   Life’s been busy.  With Longwood’s graduation behind us, Kate and Matt tucked in their new house and two big spruce up & renovation projects under way, we’ve hardly had time for a vacation.  But vacation we did.  Last week we headed to Folly Beach for a few days of fun in the sun.  What some would see as an odd coincidence, I see as sure fire destiny.  George and I spent an entire semester in Charleston (a mere 8 miles from Folly) and haven’t had an opportunity to revisit until our dear new friends, the Greens, from Farmville invited us to share their vacation house in Folly.  It was all grand and as another good friend would say, it was big on big. 

Kristen and Jason’s (Green's daughter and son-in-law) cottage is perfect.   Its simple, no-nonsense décor has a lovely rustic charm and is a mere two blocks from the ocean.  I love the no clutter, the clean corners and counters…a way of living that I crave but have never been able to accomplish.  My stuff gathers stuff.   Their house eases you into a laid back lifestyle of eating meals on the porch and lazing on the beach.  If you feel you must have some sort of physical activity, you can take a bike ride or toss a few bocce balls on the beach.   There are plenty of spots to root down with a favorite book or hidden sites to discover on an early morning walk.  We biked to the lighthouse, a wonderful peddle headed down, a kick-butt-head-wind-thigh-screaming ride coming back.  I was the new rookie in a game of beach bocce ball, but soon retreated to my beach chair to watch the seasoned Greens take to the sand.  An extra- long soak in the claw-foot tub helped to soothe my muscles but not my dignity. I came pretty close to hollering for someone to come pull me out of that thing.  After I had used my fair share of the hot water and my fingers were shriveled, I found I was unable to stand up.  Some quick thinking and a yoga move or two found me on the floor side of the tub.  Whew. 

We loved every minute of our stay.  A great night out in Charleston to celebrate Chuck’s birthday highlighted our last evening and was topped off with a visit from son Chaz (fresh back from the west coast). 

‘Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina’…..South Carolina that is….with friends. 

Clipping Away

We subscribe to a lot of newspapers around here.  Any given day we may have 2 or 3 delivered and 2 or 3 arrive by post.  That doesn’t count the weekend papers, for which, we feed quarters into the corner boxes.  All totaled up, it amounts to quite a stack of newsprint and a whole lot of recycling. My husband, George, has always been a clipper.  My father was a clipper too, but George is legendary in his pursuit of worthy clippings.  We’ve had countless discussions about this habit – exactly what does he do with all those thousands of snippets of paper?  Well, he files most of them! Honest.  He sends along pertinent ones to our children (who may read them but certainly don’t file them away)

He often sticks one in his book bag for immediate usage in his morning class.  But mostly they get filed away.  In lots of file cabinets.  Labeled in orderly file folders.  Folders like; Dismal Swamp, wooden boats, growing blueberries, real estate appraising, tax law, electricity, massage therapy, photography…..just to mention a measly few because the list is quite lengthy and new folders are frequently added.    I used to give him a hard time about (in my opinion) the reckless abandonment in which he tears into the news, but I’ve mellowed and come to appreciate that we all depend on his vast collection of fingertip information.  He prides himself (and amazes me) that he can usually put his hands on said article within a few minutes. 

         This finely honed system of delivery and clipping has been duly tested with our recent   
moving about from state to state.  The papers are having a hard time catching up with our comings and goings, and although we’ve been diligent about changes of address, forwarding and rerouting, it sometimes just overtaxes the best of systems.  So when we returned last week to Elizabeth City for the summer, our local newspaper carrier left a note on the morning paper indicating we’d get “caught up” the following day.   Imagine our surprise when this bundle arrived on our doorstep the next morning.  Holy __?  What the  ___?   Words are inadequate.  Some message surely got lost in  all of the shuffling.       
         What now?  Start clipping, George.