I highly recommend this activity. Especially when it's February and they're talking about another major winter storm. And if you have your 20 month old granddaughter with you and her parents, that's even better.
Recently, I read a suggestion that you document 50 things about a walk in your neighborhood. I don't know about 50, but here goes.
1. Sand so firmly packed that even we folks with arthritis can walk comfortably.
2. Finding so many perfect or almost perfect shells that you have to start choosing which ones to keep.
3. Watching pelicans fish for their lunch.
4. Watching your daughter and son-in-law be wonderful parents.
5. Watching you granddaughter show everyone that sometimes you just need to sit down and check out the sand and the shells. There's no need to be going anywhere.
6. Piping Plovers -- new species for me.
7. Jellyfish that didn't make it on the outgoing tide.
8. Horseshoe crab shells -- really big ones. Like the ones we sometimes find in Amagansett but there seem to be more of them here.
9. A cloud of ducks settling on the waves or taking off in one long, long line.
10. Cormorants -- another new species for me. My life list is really improving.
11. Learning about how to recognize sand dollars that are still alive so you don't reduce their population.
12. Waves chasing you back up the beach.
13. Swings on the beach for once again just sitting and letting it happen.
14. Warm sun on your face, even if you know that face is going to be red tomorrow.
15. Okay, okay, I've got some work to do on noticing but I am working on it.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Madeira
Have some Madeira m'dear? Anyone else remember the Kingston Trio recording of that song? I know. I've probably lost everybody below the age of 60. I couldn't help remembering it when I discovered that the Davenport House has Madeira Tours every weekend.
The parties are in the late afternoon/early evening at about the time a traditional Madeira party would have been held in Savannah in the early 1800s. Candles are lit and madeira and appropriate snacks are served. Almonds and ground nuts (peanuts to the rest of the world) with the lighter Madeira and pound cake with the heavier Malmsey. It seems that in England pound cake is called Madeira cake because it went so well with Madeira. And Madeira was stored on the top floor of houses because heat improved it. Apparently this was discovered when the colonists realized that the Madeira they got was better when it arrived than when it was sent, due they felt to the sloshing around in kegs in the holds of the ships transporting it. Can't argue with the scientific method.
Definitely a fun tour and and a beautiful house. BTW, did you know that the tune for our national anthem is actually the tune of a drinking song known as the Anacreon Hymn. Our guide said it was chosen because it was a tune everyone knew. I just wish we could forget about fiscal cliffs and sequestration (I thought that was for juries) and get back to the wine and song part.
The parties are in the late afternoon/early evening at about the time a traditional Madeira party would have been held in Savannah in the early 1800s. Candles are lit and madeira and appropriate snacks are served. Almonds and ground nuts (peanuts to the rest of the world) with the lighter Madeira and pound cake with the heavier Malmsey. It seems that in England pound cake is called Madeira cake because it went so well with Madeira. And Madeira was stored on the top floor of houses because heat improved it. Apparently this was discovered when the colonists realized that the Madeira they got was better when it arrived than when it was sent, due they felt to the sloshing around in kegs in the holds of the ships transporting it. Can't argue with the scientific method.
Definitely a fun tour and and a beautiful house. BTW, did you know that the tune for our national anthem is actually the tune of a drinking song known as the Anacreon Hymn. Our guide said it was chosen because it was a tune everyone knew. I just wish we could forget about fiscal cliffs and sequestration (I thought that was for juries) and get back to the wine and song part.
Friday, February 22, 2013
It's Called Relaxing
That's what I've been doing lately. More than I have in a very long time. Savannah is being just what I hoped it would be. Warmer. With lots of old houses and parks/squares. And time - time to do not much of anything. I have tried to get to at least one of the historic houses for a tour pretty much every day. When it wasn't raining, of course. Because I've become a real wimp about the weather. If it's not the best outside, I just get out my book or my knitting and settle in. That's what having time and time does to you. If I don't get out to visit the next thing today, it doesn't matter. There's time. And, after all, I've found a knitting shop and a used book store complete with a Wheaten Terrier named Cassidy.
On the beautiful days - and there are lots of those - there's strolling in the squares and checking out the shops. I emphasize the "strolling". It takes a while to take things in properly. And then there's the fact that people in Savannah talk to you. So not New York. You can't walk down the street without having most people say hello and how you doing. And when you go into that interesting antique shop or that jewelry store or book store (you get the idea), you have a really good chance of getting into a conversation. Sometimes it's about art, or Savannah weather or what's the restaurant you really shouldn't miss, but there's always something to talk about.
Perhaps best of all are the 21 squares the city is built around. They were part of the original plan. Every one has a different story about the past. There are memorials to the Native American chief who helped the original colonists, to Revolutionary war heroes, to Civil War heroes, and just fountains with no particular purpose except to add the sound and sight of water in a lovely way. And there are always benches to sit on. My original idea was to sit and read, but I find quite often that I've forgotten to read and I'm just sitting there looking idly at the old houses and soaking it all in.
The other day I found a bit of graffiti on the sidewalk. It said: David loves old buildings. Well, he - and I - came to the right place.
On the beautiful days - and there are lots of those - there's strolling in the squares and checking out the shops. I emphasize the "strolling". It takes a while to take things in properly. And then there's the fact that people in Savannah talk to you. So not New York. You can't walk down the street without having most people say hello and how you doing. And when you go into that interesting antique shop or that jewelry store or book store (you get the idea), you have a really good chance of getting into a conversation. Sometimes it's about art, or Savannah weather or what's the restaurant you really shouldn't miss, but there's always something to talk about.
Perhaps best of all are the 21 squares the city is built around. They were part of the original plan. Every one has a different story about the past. There are memorials to the Native American chief who helped the original colonists, to Revolutionary war heroes, to Civil War heroes, and just fountains with no particular purpose except to add the sound and sight of water in a lovely way. And there are always benches to sit on. My original idea was to sit and read, but I find quite often that I've forgotten to read and I'm just sitting there looking idly at the old houses and soaking it all in.
The other day I found a bit of graffiti on the sidewalk. It said: David loves old buildings. Well, he - and I - came to the right place.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Compline
Compline -- that's what the sign said. Okay, I know that compline is one of the liturgical hours of the church. And I have a feeling that it's one of the evening hours, but I really never can keep them straight. "Sing good night to God", it said. Sounds appealing. As a veteran of a lot of lullabies, that resonates with me.
But what is it doing on the lawn of the Independent Presbyterian Church? Now I'm confused. But I take note of the time, 9:00 pm. Good, I must be right about it being one of the evening or night hours. Don't know if it's going to fit in with the rest of the day, but I'll keep it in mind.
So, at 9:00 pm, after a great dinner at a new restaurant with a new dessert wine at the end, I realize there's just time to make it to Compline. In my mellow mood, it feels just about right. It totally was. A beautiful candlelit church. A surprisingly (to me) good number of people ( about 40 -- I counted). A choir with wonderful voices. The voices, the music, the quiet, the sung prayers. It all became a sort of aural incense. Nothing has said 'Worship' like that in quite a while. We did indeed sing good night to God. And I think He liked it.
BTW, it turns out that Christ Church Anglican worships in the Presbyterian Church on a regular basis. May have to check in again. And if there are any pastors or other knowledgeable folks reading this, someone please explain to me how Anglican in the United States differs from Episcopalian.
But what is it doing on the lawn of the Independent Presbyterian Church? Now I'm confused. But I take note of the time, 9:00 pm. Good, I must be right about it being one of the evening or night hours. Don't know if it's going to fit in with the rest of the day, but I'll keep it in mind.
So, at 9:00 pm, after a great dinner at a new restaurant with a new dessert wine at the end, I realize there's just time to make it to Compline. In my mellow mood, it feels just about right. It totally was. A beautiful candlelit church. A surprisingly (to me) good number of people ( about 40 -- I counted). A choir with wonderful voices. The voices, the music, the quiet, the sung prayers. It all became a sort of aural incense. Nothing has said 'Worship' like that in quite a while. We did indeed sing good night to God. And I think He liked it.
BTW, it turns out that Christ Church Anglican worships in the Presbyterian Church on a regular basis. May have to check in again. And if there are any pastors or other knowledgeable folks reading this, someone please explain to me how Anglican in the United States differs from Episcopalian.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
First African Baptist Church
This being Sunday seems an appropriate time to tell you about my visit to the First African Baptist Church here in Savannah. It is a church built by slaves and goes back to pre-Revolutionary days. The present church building is about the fourth building and was built in the 1850s. The stories I heard from our young guide, who is a member of the congregation, were ones I had never really imagined despite the fact that I felt I knew a bit about American history and the Underground Railroad in particular.
The building of the present church occurred when the congregation had the opportunity to purchase the land for $1500. I have only a hazy idea of how much that was in the 1850s but it must have been huge for them. The congregation had some money but needed another $500. The sellers said they would give the congregation six months to come up with that extra $500. They succeeded. They succeeded because the members gave, even the money they had saved intending to purchase freedom for themselves and their families. I simply cannot imagine it. Giving up your chance for freedom because your pastor asked you to contribute to this chance to have a church to worship in. How do you balance those things? How do you even begin to think about it? I have heard of living your faith. This may be one of the greatest examples of it I have ever encountered. These people, these slaves, gave not only their money. Once the land was theirs, they built the church with their own hands. As our guide reminded us, the slaves were the ones who did the labor in that world. They were the masons, the carpenters, the workers. But first they had to get permission from their owners to do the work, to leave their plantations and walk anywhere from two miles to twenty, after the work on the plantation was done, to the church site. Like the Israelites before them, they made the bricks. Then they built the church I was sitting in.
The building of the present church occurred when the congregation had the opportunity to purchase the land for $1500. I have only a hazy idea of how much that was in the 1850s but it must have been huge for them. The congregation had some money but needed another $500. The sellers said they would give the congregation six months to come up with that extra $500. They succeeded. They succeeded because the members gave, even the money they had saved intending to purchase freedom for themselves and their families. I simply cannot imagine it. Giving up your chance for freedom because your pastor asked you to contribute to this chance to have a church to worship in. How do you balance those things? How do you even begin to think about it? I have heard of living your faith. This may be one of the greatest examples of it I have ever encountered. These people, these slaves, gave not only their money. Once the land was theirs, they built the church with their own hands. As our guide reminded us, the slaves were the ones who did the labor in that world. They were the masons, the carpenters, the workers. But first they had to get permission from their owners to do the work, to leave their plantations and walk anywhere from two miles to twenty, after the work on the plantation was done, to the church site. Like the Israelites before them, they made the bricks. Then they built the church I was sitting in.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
On The Road Again
I am indeed on the road again. After some wonderful days in Chicago with family, I'm now actually headed to Savannaah. Spent last night in Lexington KY down the road from the Horse Park and I'm now in Asheville, NC across the road from the Biltmore estate. Not bad planning on the hotels. Got off the road for lunch in Tennessee and found myself in a small BBQ restaurant with their own secret sauce, not to mention fried green tomatoes. Sorry, Hiromi, I just dived right in and forgot to get a picture.
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