Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Gray Days of Winter

Sunday was a gray winter day, damp from two days of cold rain. Happy to get out of the house, we set out for an early morning walk on the Palmetto Trail.

“Winter is the woods' grumpy editor, insisting trees drop all pretense, opening up forgotten vistas, demanding the winding road stay in sight a little longer. 

“Winter cuts all the showy metaphors and the sappy sentimentality of spring and summer, letting the stark landscape and the mustiness of fallen leaves speak for themselves. 




“Winter wants a spare style, browning everything ...














“except a bright tangle of bittersweet, a crimson strand of Virginia creeper and the dark green of a lone pine deep deep in the trees.” — Tommy Hays


This tree intrigued me.  The trunk up grew at the edge of Awendaw Creek, then bent out and over the water, then back upward again. At the same time, its thick roots grew up the bank, above the ground rather than underground, developing bark in the process.

This portion of the trail ends in a Francis Marion National Forest campground.  We were surprised to be met with a closed gate and stop sign.


It says the campground is closed “due to the hurricane”.  This can’t be true!  It’s been months since hurricane Florence, the campground received no damage from the hurricane and has been in continuous use since until now.  

We suspect it is closed because of the government shutdown and no one available to keep up with trash pickup and toilet cleaning.

Why blame an old hurricane??? 

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Ta Da! My Book Is Published



I’m pretty excited!  Soldier Boy: the World War II Letters of Donald G. Reimer, is ready to read.

Here’s an excerpt from the cover:

“When l found a box of letters in my grandparents’ attic, I had very little knowledge of the part my father played in World War II.  The letters, nearly a thousand written between him and his parents and sister back home on the farm in northern Illinois, juxtapose the difficulties of farming in war time with those of a young man far away from home for the first time, fighting in a bloody war.
  
  “Donald Reimer enlisted in the U.S. Army in January, 1943, just ahead of the draft board, when the country was reeling from the tragedy at Pearl Harbor. Still a teenager, he was willing to do his part.  After months of brutal training for desert fighting, he found himself fighting instead with the 485th Anti-Aircraft Artillery Battalion on the jungle islands of Leyte and Okinawa in the Pacific.

  “The letters tell a story of a young, naive boy as he grew into a soldier and a man.”

 I was able to include quite a few photographs.  My dad had a camera and sporadically, film for it, which he would mail home to my grandparents for developing.  Amazingly, the photos were preserved in quite good shape (much better than my slides from the ‘70s and ‘80s).  

If you are interested in reading Soldier Boy as an ebook, it’s available on Amazon.  Follow this link: https://www.amazon.com/Soldier-Boy-Letters-Donald-Reimer-ebook/dp/B07ML21HX7/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1547387662&sr=8-1&keywords=soldier+boy+cynthia+reimer

For a paperback copy, email me at soldierboydgr@gmail.com.  The paperback price is $13.95 + $3 postage (U.S. only, “media mail” takes about 5 working days).  



1st copies, ready to mail out


Friday, January 4, 2019

The First Week of the Year

  I always feel philosophical around the time of year when the numbers turn.  The darkness of winter, the short days and long nights, are made for reading, reflecting, remembering, making decisions and plans.  It seems momentous, this whole new year, three million and some seconds, waiting to be lived, and as future years dwindle, it feels ever more important to use them carefully and well.
  
This is where we started 2019 on January 1st, walking our favorite stretch of beach in the early-morning fog.  The fog was not all-encompassing; there were clear places and murky places and we moved easily between.  It felt like a metaphor for the year ahead: the foggy places the unknowns and tough decisions, the clear places the easy paths and choices, we humans moving through life, negotiating both.  

Decisions we are contemplating are big and small.  For example:  
  • New doctors. Just before Christmas we learned that our primary care doctor had suddenly left the practice where we are patients.  We haven’t been satisfied with the clinic itself so it seems a good time to do some research and make a change, probably having to drive all the way to Charleston to get into a different system of clinics and necessitating changes in the several specialists we see.  
  • A car.  We have 173,000+ miles on our car, a small Toyota SUV (without a single repair besides routine maintenance!).  This year will undoubtedly present the necessity of purchasing another.  
  • A home-away-from-home, one with wheels.  We have been contemplating this for months already.  It's time to get serious and make a purchase!
  • Travel.  Depending on the above two decisions: where we want to visit in the next 12 months.  So many choices!  
  • A word. One to focus my thoughts and guide my life during the year ahead.  Some from past years include: Light, Simplicity, Adventure, Move, Gratitude.  I have some in mind but haven’t chosen The One yet.
  • A Big Project. My book finished, I’m at loose ends.  I need a new purpose.  One can only knit so many hats (12, for charity, so far)! 
Well, those are a few things I’m thinking about these rainy, foggy January days.  What about you?  

Monday, December 31, 2018

Cheers to the New Year!






Rainer Maria Rilke 

“And now we welcome the new year. Full of things that have never been."


Best wishes for health, peace, and happiness in 2019


Saturday, December 29, 2018

The Winter Beach

Thursday’s wild wind whipped the pounding waves into an airy froth. 


Pieces danced and tumbled along the beach, to be caught by the rocks of the jetty.  

On the jetty, the froth continued to quiver and shake, like a living, breathing thing.  



The beach — always a surprise, always a delight.

Sunday, December 23, 2018

Tuesday, December 18, 2018

The Christmas Lights

One of my favorite things about Christmas is the light displays.  I could go for a ride every single night in a different neighborhood to ooo and ahhh.  The photos I took don't do them justice, but here are a few from around town.  



The first is the Kaminski house on the water, right on the main street, one of the 60 antebellum homes left in our small town.


The walkway from the street, an old brick sidewalk, is lined with colored lights while all the rest of the display contains only small white lights.  


The narrow ends of the house face the street and the harbor with the main entrance and a park-like lawn on the side.




The traditional mansion is one room deep along its length, with a central hallway at the entrance.  It was built in the mid-1700s for John Trapier, who began his career as a merchant in Georgetown, supplied the army during the Revolutionary War, and became one of the wealthiest men in the colony. He moved to Charleston and gave the house to his aging and unmarried daughter to enhance her marriage possiblilites.  It apparently worked as she landed a good husband shortly thereafter!  

It isn't only the mansions of our town that are lit up for Christmas.  Here's a little favorite right in our neighborhood.

I don't believe I've ever seen the inflatable Peanuts gang portraying the nativity before!

The next is a house we always make sure to visit and I showed you their offering last year of hundreds of inflated snowmen crowded onto every single balcony and porch.  This year they went for a simpler but no less fun statement:

one giant tipsy snowman (I believe he's been sampling the peppermint schnapps 😁) swaying on the lawn, being watched over by two very interested reindeer from the porches!  


The Writer has done his shopping (he settled for a tropical Santa Christmas tie, thank goodness!), the cards are written, packages wrapped and mailed.  In a couple days we leave for Christmas #3 with my daughter from Germany (she's coming to the US, we're not going to Germany -- this year) and Christmas #4 with my mom.  

Oh, and Hey Santa, I've been real good, are you listening?