Long Beach, one of the three beaches on Oak Island, NC, faces south. Yaupon Beach faces East and Fort Caswell Beach faces north-east.
A south facing beach has the sun rise on your left, as you look out toward Cuba, and crosses overhead until it sets on your right. So, the sun is never directly in your eyes as you look at the Atlantic. It does heat you on both sides during the day.
We put up the state flag of West Virginia, as we do except when I forget to bring it, and it blows north almost all day. There are no insects here because the wind blows them inland. When the breeze comes from the north, go inside because the insects from the inlets and marshes of the island will be blown down to the beach! But that seldom happens.
Pelicans breed here. I didn't see many the first day or two, but today they are back: large, solemn, stately, flying in formations of 5 to 9 up and down the beach and diving for fish out in the water with a grace such a large, odd bird shouldn't possess.
I love Pelicans...would like to be one for a few hours but wouldn't agree to that for fear my avian mind would take over and I'd forget to come back....
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Liver pudding
I eat stuff at the beach that I don't eat the rest of the year.
Like liver pudding--fried up with eggs for breakfast.
Liver 'pudding' used to be called liver 'mush', according to Sherry, who the only true 'Southerner' among us, having been born in South Carolina. (John, Bern, Mimi and I were all born in West Virginia, which isn't 'southern' but Appalachia. Tim was born and bred in Massachusetts-so we don't know mush about liver pudding.)
Sherry believes that they changed the name because people were turned off by the concept of 'mush'. I don't buy that because I think people who were turned off by 'liver mush' will be equally grossed out by 'liver pudding' since it's the 'liver' they're reacting to in the first place.
There is some kind of liver in liver pudding and corn meal, for sure. Beyond that, I can't tell you what's in it, even though the package is in the refrigerator and I could go look at the ingredients. But, truth be told, I don't want to know what's in it! I only eat it at the beach and it is tasty fried crisp with an egg on top and I probably couldn't eat it if I knew all the ingredients.
Some things are better tasting shrouded in mystery.
Like liver pudding--fried up with eggs for breakfast.
Liver 'pudding' used to be called liver 'mush', according to Sherry, who the only true 'Southerner' among us, having been born in South Carolina. (John, Bern, Mimi and I were all born in West Virginia, which isn't 'southern' but Appalachia. Tim was born and bred in Massachusetts-so we don't know mush about liver pudding.)
Sherry believes that they changed the name because people were turned off by the concept of 'mush'. I don't buy that because I think people who were turned off by 'liver mush' will be equally grossed out by 'liver pudding' since it's the 'liver' they're reacting to in the first place.
There is some kind of liver in liver pudding and corn meal, for sure. Beyond that, I can't tell you what's in it, even though the package is in the refrigerator and I could go look at the ingredients. But, truth be told, I don't want to know what's in it! I only eat it at the beach and it is tasty fried crisp with an egg on top and I probably couldn't eat it if I knew all the ingredients.
Some things are better tasting shrouded in mystery.
Monday, September 1, 2014
Light Show
On Sunday night, after a great dinner and a day of being calmed by the ocean, Tim came inside where Bern and Sherry and I were--Tim, Mimi and John were down in the gazebo at the end of the walkway to the steps to the beach. "You've got to see this," is all he said.
Down above the steps we stayed for an hour, at least, watching a light show worth paying for.
A range of black clouds were above Emerald Isle, the beach to the West of Oak Island, back on the NC mainland. Lightening lit up the clouds in rapid succession and wondrous ways. Only once or twice did that power break through and throw white and jagged bolts down to the ocean. But the cloud exploded in golden light over and over and over.
It was a blessing and honor to see that, to be in the near presence of such raw power and raw beauty.
We 'ooed' and 'ahhed' for almost an hour until the show slowly came to an end.
Nature...how do you beat that?
Down above the steps we stayed for an hour, at least, watching a light show worth paying for.
A range of black clouds were above Emerald Isle, the beach to the West of Oak Island, back on the NC mainland. Lightening lit up the clouds in rapid succession and wondrous ways. Only once or twice did that power break through and throw white and jagged bolts down to the ocean. But the cloud exploded in golden light over and over and over.
It was a blessing and honor to see that, to be in the near presence of such raw power and raw beauty.
We 'ooed' and 'ahhed' for almost an hour until the show slowly came to an end.
Nature...how do you beat that?
Mimi and Tim
Mimi and Tim took 3 days to come to North Carolina. They stopped in Philadelphia on Thursday night and Richmond on Friday night. Sort of a 'pre-marriage' time together--being in a car on interstates, well, I talked about that in my last post....Good for them.
So, they got to Oak Island before us and picked up the key to the 'Andromeda Strand' (a tad to 'cute' of a name, but a great house).
In spite of that, we got to the house about 5 minutes before they did because they took the time to go to Food Lion and get us all we needed for the first day or so.
When they arrived, it was like we'd not seen them for years...decades...hugs and kisses and shrill greetings all around.
What could be better than being at a beautiful beach, in a great house with people you love dearly?
Not much....
So, they got to Oak Island before us and picked up the key to the 'Andromeda Strand' (a tad to 'cute' of a name, but a great house).
In spite of that, we got to the house about 5 minutes before they did because they took the time to go to Food Lion and get us all we needed for the first day or so.
When they arrived, it was like we'd not seen them for years...decades...hugs and kisses and shrill greetings all around.
What could be better than being at a beautiful beach, in a great house with people you love dearly?
Not much....
traveling...
(a little late--busy and trouble figuring out how to find my blog to write on--I found the blog over and again, just not to write on...but John found it for me...)
Friday and Saturday, we traveled--Bern and John and Sherry and I--all the way from CT to NC, stopping for the night in VA.
I've know John since 1971--he was a graduate student, working on his Ph.D. is psychology and I was a Social Service worker for the WV Dept of Welfare and Bern and I lived in Morgantown. John and I both went to St. Gabrial's mission, which met in the attic of our apartment. Bern was finishing her BFA at WVU after a year at Northeastern while I was at Harvard.
I've known Sherry since 1980, when I was Rector of St. Paul's in New Haven and she was a member there. She anGd Bern have been a member of 'Group' a women's group never larger than 6, for over 30 years. Sherry and her husband, Jack, are two of our best friends. In fact, John and Sherry and Jack are three people who are among both my and Bern's 'best friends'.
Driving for many hours on Interstate Highways are, in my opinion, one of the ways to bond deeply and to discuss things you wouldn't bring up without moving at high speed, just me talkin'.
I noticed that when Mejol and I went to West Virginia from Baltimore and back. We talked about things we would have never discussed about our lives and our childhood that we wouldn't have gotten to in several days sitting opposite each other.
Part of it, I think, is that you can't really make consistent eye-contact at 80 mph. It frees us up, in my thought, to go deeper than we would faster than we could have, or would have been willing to, looking at each other all the time.
Don't worry, I'm not going to go into those conversations. They are two personal. But they were theaputic and healing in many ways.
So, get into a car and drive fast with people you love for hours and hours. You might just find yourselves at a place you needed to get but haven't been able to....
Friday and Saturday, we traveled--Bern and John and Sherry and I--all the way from CT to NC, stopping for the night in VA.
I've know John since 1971--he was a graduate student, working on his Ph.D. is psychology and I was a Social Service worker for the WV Dept of Welfare and Bern and I lived in Morgantown. John and I both went to St. Gabrial's mission, which met in the attic of our apartment. Bern was finishing her BFA at WVU after a year at Northeastern while I was at Harvard.
I've known Sherry since 1980, when I was Rector of St. Paul's in New Haven and she was a member there. She anGd Bern have been a member of 'Group' a women's group never larger than 6, for over 30 years. Sherry and her husband, Jack, are two of our best friends. In fact, John and Sherry and Jack are three people who are among both my and Bern's 'best friends'.
Driving for many hours on Interstate Highways are, in my opinion, one of the ways to bond deeply and to discuss things you wouldn't bring up without moving at high speed, just me talkin'.
I noticed that when Mejol and I went to West Virginia from Baltimore and back. We talked about things we would have never discussed about our lives and our childhood that we wouldn't have gotten to in several days sitting opposite each other.
Part of it, I think, is that you can't really make consistent eye-contact at 80 mph. It frees us up, in my thought, to go deeper than we would faster than we could have, or would have been willing to, looking at each other all the time.
Don't worry, I'm not going to go into those conversations. They are two personal. But they were theaputic and healing in many ways.
So, get into a car and drive fast with people you love for hours and hours. You might just find yourselves at a place you needed to get but haven't been able to....
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
two sleeps and we're gone...
When our kids were small and didn't get linear time so well (as I still don't!) Bern would tell them, "three more sleeps and it will be your birthday/Christmas/time to go on vacation."
Well, two sleeps and we're off to Oak Island, North Carolina for a week. We could stay two weeks or even three but Bern wouldn't leave our dog for that long and he would be absolute hell to travel with. The only way you can take him on a trip is to drug him until he's about to fall over. Otherwise he would bark the whole way--I kid you not.
If Bela traveled better, we'd stay longer on the island where we've probably, over the years since 1974, spent about two years all told. We used to go for a whole month when the kids were small and then three weeks when they started to find it boring to be on an island. Finally, before we stopped for a decade or so, for just two weeks.
Actually, parceling out time in 'sleeps' makes a lot of sense. It is, after all, the activity we spend more time doing than most anything and our lives are punctuated by 'sleeps'.
Since I'm sometimes not sure what day it is until I turn on my computer, planning my life by 'sleeps' makes a lot of sense. I can keep track of that better.
So, instead of, "I have to go to the Dr on Friday" I tell myself "I have to go to the Dr in three sleeps" and when I wake up, I tell myself, "two sleeps now".
Makes perfect sense to me.
It doesn't work with the dog or cat though since a day for them might involve 8 or more 'sleeps'.
I get thrown off on this system if I ever take a nap....
Well, two sleeps and we're off to Oak Island, North Carolina for a week. We could stay two weeks or even three but Bern wouldn't leave our dog for that long and he would be absolute hell to travel with. The only way you can take him on a trip is to drug him until he's about to fall over. Otherwise he would bark the whole way--I kid you not.
If Bela traveled better, we'd stay longer on the island where we've probably, over the years since 1974, spent about two years all told. We used to go for a whole month when the kids were small and then three weeks when they started to find it boring to be on an island. Finally, before we stopped for a decade or so, for just two weeks.
Actually, parceling out time in 'sleeps' makes a lot of sense. It is, after all, the activity we spend more time doing than most anything and our lives are punctuated by 'sleeps'.
Since I'm sometimes not sure what day it is until I turn on my computer, planning my life by 'sleeps' makes a lot of sense. I can keep track of that better.
So, instead of, "I have to go to the Dr on Friday" I tell myself "I have to go to the Dr in three sleeps" and when I wake up, I tell myself, "two sleeps now".
Makes perfect sense to me.
It doesn't work with the dog or cat though since a day for them might involve 8 or more 'sleeps'.
I get thrown off on this system if I ever take a nap....
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Bern and blood
Bern has a reflex about blood: she faints.
Today we took the Puli to the vet for shots and blood work. It is a two person job! Bern was fine, holding his head, muzzled, so he wouldn't bite the vet or the assistant, who was also holding him. He got an exam, two shots, then the young, blonde vet was going to take his blood. Notice I said "going to take...". There was no blood at all yet, but I glanced at Bern and knew she was only a few moments from fainting. She sat down and put her head between her legs were I took her place, holding Bela's head. She kept her head between her legs until it was all over. She looked shaky as I took the dog outside while she paid. We walked all the way around the building and I saw her at the counter to pay. Then I saw her sit down and put her head between her legs. Then she went back to the counter and retreated quickly to the chair. The vet's assistant brought her water. I kept walking the dog. It must have been an hour or so after we got home, her riding with her head between her legs, before she was back to something that passed for 'normal'. (Who wants to be 'normal' anyway? But it's better than about to faint, I grant you that.
Once when I was Rector of St. Paul's in New Haven, Mimi fell against a huge island in the middle of our kitchen in the Rectory and started bleeding like a stuck pig from her forehead. (I've never seen anyone 'stick a pig', but it means, I think, lots and lots of blood.) Josh somehow dialed the phone and called the church. The parish office was next to my office and Marcie, the secretary ran in saying, "Josh is hysterical on the phone!"
I took his call. "Mimi is dying! Mimi is dying!" he was shouting.
I ran next door to the Rectory and he was still on the phone yelling, "Mimi is dying!"
Bern was on the kitchen floor holding Mimi's head.
"Put your hand here on the towel," Bern said calmly. When I did, Bern fainted dead away.
"Mommy is dying!" Josh started yelling, still holding the phone. "Mommy is dying!" he said over and again.
Somehow we got Mimi to the ER where it took four stitches to close the wound near her temple that was bleeding like crazy. Since she had hit her head the doctor didn't want to sedate her so he put her in what looked like nothing else but a straight jacket and closed the wound with only a local.
I've waited all these years (Mimi was 3 and Josh was 6--now they are 36 and 39) for this trauma to emerge in some psychological problem for Mimi--being tied up and stitched at 3--but it never has. She is one of the most well-balanced and sane people I know.
But Bern has a thing with blood. She held Mimi's wound until I could...but just the mention of blood with Bela and she had her head between her legs.
She apologized later today about being so sensitive. But it's one of the things I love about her--a frailty I adore. She is so strong in so many ways that this little glitch seems sweet and oh-so-human.
And since I could be awash in blood and fine, it balances our relationship out....
Today we took the Puli to the vet for shots and blood work. It is a two person job! Bern was fine, holding his head, muzzled, so he wouldn't bite the vet or the assistant, who was also holding him. He got an exam, two shots, then the young, blonde vet was going to take his blood. Notice I said "going to take...". There was no blood at all yet, but I glanced at Bern and knew she was only a few moments from fainting. She sat down and put her head between her legs were I took her place, holding Bela's head. She kept her head between her legs until it was all over. She looked shaky as I took the dog outside while she paid. We walked all the way around the building and I saw her at the counter to pay. Then I saw her sit down and put her head between her legs. Then she went back to the counter and retreated quickly to the chair. The vet's assistant brought her water. I kept walking the dog. It must have been an hour or so after we got home, her riding with her head between her legs, before she was back to something that passed for 'normal'. (Who wants to be 'normal' anyway? But it's better than about to faint, I grant you that.
Once when I was Rector of St. Paul's in New Haven, Mimi fell against a huge island in the middle of our kitchen in the Rectory and started bleeding like a stuck pig from her forehead. (I've never seen anyone 'stick a pig', but it means, I think, lots and lots of blood.) Josh somehow dialed the phone and called the church. The parish office was next to my office and Marcie, the secretary ran in saying, "Josh is hysterical on the phone!"
I took his call. "Mimi is dying! Mimi is dying!" he was shouting.
I ran next door to the Rectory and he was still on the phone yelling, "Mimi is dying!"
Bern was on the kitchen floor holding Mimi's head.
"Put your hand here on the towel," Bern said calmly. When I did, Bern fainted dead away.
"Mommy is dying!" Josh started yelling, still holding the phone. "Mommy is dying!" he said over and again.
Somehow we got Mimi to the ER where it took four stitches to close the wound near her temple that was bleeding like crazy. Since she had hit her head the doctor didn't want to sedate her so he put her in what looked like nothing else but a straight jacket and closed the wound with only a local.
I've waited all these years (Mimi was 3 and Josh was 6--now they are 36 and 39) for this trauma to emerge in some psychological problem for Mimi--being tied up and stitched at 3--but it never has. She is one of the most well-balanced and sane people I know.
But Bern has a thing with blood. She held Mimi's wound until I could...but just the mention of blood with Bela and she had her head between her legs.
She apologized later today about being so sensitive. But it's one of the things I love about her--a frailty I adore. She is so strong in so many ways that this little glitch seems sweet and oh-so-human.
And since I could be awash in blood and fine, it balances our relationship out....
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