Sunday, July 31, 2016

Moving Day



None of our pets is crazy about traveling but they did pretty well on the drive up the coast to their new home. Rosie's carrier was between us and she kept up a conversation with us most of the trip.



Tybee is 17 1/2 years old. He prefers the front seat and kept trying to squeeze his way up front from the back. His back legs are weak from arthritis and he had to be replaced on the seat a few times.

Bob the Border Collie's black back is on the right next to Tybee. Bob was busying looking out the window the entire trip, way too busy to smile for a picture.

The blur is The Writer's arm trying to keep Tybee in the backseat.

We had a very nice moving crew and they didn't lose their friendly demeanor even in the 98-degree heat and humidity. They were delayed by accidents on the bridge in Charleston, then got to Georgetown to find the weight station had been closed and no one had informed Ms Google! They had to backtrack all the way to Charleston to weigh the truck and a 4-hour trip took them more than 7.

They had already worked a 12-hour day when they left here for their 4 hour drive back home.



We got up this morning and poked around in boxes to find some cereal and bowls to make breakfast.




There are mountains of boxes like this all over the house.



I decided to start with the kitchen this morning. It only looks slightly better tonight, in spite of the fact that I have emptied and stowed the contents of 20 boxes.

But the fridge and freezer are sparkling clean and many drawers and cupboards have been lined, dinner cooked, the dishes done, and I now am rooted to the rocking chair.

I'm not moving until bedtime!


Sunday, July 17, 2016

Peace, Love, and a Microbus *

When this old VW bus appeared in Beaufort in front of a newly-opened restaurant called "Peace, Love, and Hotdogs," we had to stop for a closer look.

It's even the same color as the one The Writer and I had in the early '70s!

Groovy, man!


We thought it was just parked there to draw attention to the restaurant and were surprised to look inside and see that it was full of tools and construction supplies and still very much in use.

It's got to be 40-some years old and still on the road.

Somebody has taken good care of it.

Far out!





We traveled many miles in ours, sitting high up, looking out over that steering wheel and through the big front window at this country of ours, searching for the right place to be our home. At night we pulled striped curtains 'round the windows and slept on a mattress on the floor.

When we found the land we wanted in the Blue Ridge Mountains we sold the bus to help pay for it.

Our 30 acres in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina with the Smokies beyond

*This post is for Sarah, who wanted to know about the VW bus. xoxo


Monday, July 11, 2016

Betwixt and Between

We have been traveling between three houses. Last Friday was the closing on my house in Minnesota. Thank goodness, that one is done and dusted! Because the other two are in all stages of chaos and incompleteness. And every few days we are making the 3 hour drive in between for one reason. Or six.


One looks like this from where I sit right now, with boxes being packed and stacked everywhere.

A couple days ago while we were here working, the air-conditioning was out for 14 hours.

Packing boxes in 99 degree F heat and 85% humidity = sweaty torture!



Meanwhile, in Georgetown we have had good news on what the house inspector thought could be some pricey repairs. The air-con problem with the potential to need major repair (maybe even replacement) was a fuse, and the foundation moisture fix will cost $hundreds, not $thousands as feared!

Now, on to other decisions that have been more fun!



The living room

(Disclaimer: the mirrors behind the white shelves will be leaving as soon as the final papers are signed.)

Some living room SOFA candidates.


(I kept calling them couches which apparently is Minnesotan and kept being kindly corrected, so I'm working on that.)

This one, but maybe in tan?

It's so nice and ... beachy.



More formal. Larger size? Is the wood too dark with the newly refinished oak floors?


The jury is still out on cou... er,SOFAS.



Kitchen floor, ceramic or vinyl?

Vinyl is easier on the legs, vinyl it is.

Left or right? Leaning left.


Hallway carpet. Requirements: soft and squishy, long-wearing, neutral color. You would think that would be easy, but do you know how many shades of beige and degrees of squishy there are? How many prices there are? How many promises of wearability there are? Did you even know wearability was a word?

Anyhoo, we made a decision. But it was in a carpet warehouse at the end of another 99 degree/85% humidity day of decisions and our decision-making ability had tanked somewhere around noon.

We had to go back the next morning and change the order.

The clerk didn't seem too surprised.



But it hasn't been all work and no play.


I picked out my coffee shop in Georgetown where I can get my favorite morning brew -- iced Americano -- and take it across the street to enjoy on the harbor walk on the waterfront, watching the yachts and working boats come and go.





One night we went to hear a friend of The Writer's singing at a restaurant at Murrells Inlet a ways up the coast. He is a fantastic entertainer and it was a nice place on the water.

My brain was fried and instead of the beautiful harbor and decks and docks behind him, I chose the background of the parking lot for the photo!

This is Bil Krauss. If you get a chance to hear him, he plays all over the East Coast and you'll have lots of fun.





This coming weekend The Writer will be gone to Orlando, next week I fly to Minnesota to take care of my grandsons for a week while my daughter and son-in-law are in Washington, DC, and the following week we close on our new house and move in. So please forgive me if things are a little quiet on my blog for the rest of the month and I don't get around to yours as often as usual.

I'll be around when I can!


Monday, July 4, 2016

Happy Birthday, USA!

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My grandson Aiden doing what every seven-year-old American boy loves -- celebrating with fire.


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(His mama took the photo last night. The boys were "practicing" for the real event tonight and had to try out a few sparklers.)


Saturday, July 2, 2016

Pawley's Island Beach, 'Our' Beach

We spent the last couple days in Georgetown making some arrangements for the purchase of our new home and doing a little exploring.

Near the top of our list in importance was checking out the place where we will walk the beach most mornings.

Pawleys Island is a barrier island on the Atlantic that was a summer refuge for the rice planters and their families. It turns out that those rice fields, flooded all summer for growing phenomenonal crops of golden rice, were just as good at growing big crops of malaria-bearing mosquitos. The island breezes blew the bugs away and kept malaria somewhat at bay.

Pawleys Island beaches are just 20 minutes from our new home and one of the big reasons we chose Georgetown. It is unique among the other islands on the southern Atlantic coast with their towering condos blocking the view, commercial beaches, and endless tourist shops. It was and is still known for its "arrogantly shabby" vacation homes and beach life.


Here's a typical beach house, I guess what is meant by "arrogantly shabby",



There has never been a large hotel on Pawleys Island. The Sea View Inn was built in 1937 and is still operating, as is the Pelican Inn, built in 1858. This is the Pelican Inn.


There are no other commercial businesses on the island, no hotels, restaurants, or shops. You have to go back to the mainland for those.

In the 1980s property owners heard talk of large chain hotels considering vacant land on the island and banded together to incorporate as a town. In 1986 with their slogan "Keep Pawley as it is," they passed ordinances forbidding commercial establishments and high rise buildings. A few condos built in the 1970s were grandfathered in and remain the exception with no further such buildings built since the ordinances were passed.


Early morning surfing lesson