The last few days in Charleston were a lot of fun. In addition to continued exploration of shops and galleries, we took advantage of Historic Charleston's House and Garden Festival. The tour we chose was Tradd Street. A beautiful, quiet street which was once very different because cargos from up river were unloaded and transported across this nice, straight street to wharves directly across the city where they could be loaded onto ships headed out into the Atlantic. We were able to visit several houses and gardens and they were beautiful. Charleston is, of course, full of beautiful houses but this was a chance to see the interiors. Every bit as lovely inside as outside.
For anyone who is a fan of the "tea shop mysteries" set in Charleston, it was very reminiscent of some of the affairs described in the books. Of course, we did cut things short as it began to rain very steadily. That just never happens in the book.
We were also able to enjoy a concert in the Huegonot Church (yes, there is a French Quarter in Charleston). Two soloists from the Charleston School of Music with wonderful voices. Just glorious.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Friday, March 28, 2014
Found
My friend, Judy, arrived earlier this week and we have been out finding things since then. I say "finding" because we seem to have a talent for first not being able to find them or, even better, finding them and then when we need to go back to that place we scouted earlier, not being able to get there. I should add, of course, that we always do seem to find whatever it is once again in the end.
Sometimes it's just that there are so many one way streets or even streets that change from two way to one way. I'm not sure that I've actually seen a street that switches from one direction to the opposite, but it certainly feels as though I had. Add construction to that and not finding building numbers or street signs to be able to check and it can take about a half hour to go "around the block". Somehow the block never seems to cooperate. I'm pretty sure the GPS thinks we're out to get it.
Of course, the problem is frequently solved by nice people who notice one of us standing and looking around in a slightly puzzled fashion. There was a very nice grey haired gentleman who did that yesterday and even told us why there was no one in the office and what the normal business hours were. I know New Yorkers can be and are very helpful but I can't quite imagine that volunteering to help in a busy NY commute. But perhaps I underestimate.
Things we have found: houses and condos and rentals just in case I find I can't live without Charleston's warmth, restaurants that were full when I tried them before, one more plantation, and way too many stores with way too many nice things. Also, the FedEX store, followed by the UPS store when we realized that the return envelope was for UPS. And something I have been looking for almost since I got to Charleston -- the pineapple fountain. This is, as I'm sure you've figured out, a large fountain shaped like a pineapple. Since both Judy and I like the pineapple hospitality image and since there is a family tradition/joke about us and the word pineapple, we just had to find that. And we did. By finding the ice cream (actually gelato) shop. We sat there eating our ice cream and realized we were about half a block from that fountain. It is a lovely thing and I will post pictures on Facebook since I still cannot get picture to upload to this blog. And, oh yes, the gelatin was quite good, too.
Sometimes it's just that there are so many one way streets or even streets that change from two way to one way. I'm not sure that I've actually seen a street that switches from one direction to the opposite, but it certainly feels as though I had. Add construction to that and not finding building numbers or street signs to be able to check and it can take about a half hour to go "around the block". Somehow the block never seems to cooperate. I'm pretty sure the GPS thinks we're out to get it.
Of course, the problem is frequently solved by nice people who notice one of us standing and looking around in a slightly puzzled fashion. There was a very nice grey haired gentleman who did that yesterday and even told us why there was no one in the office and what the normal business hours were. I know New Yorkers can be and are very helpful but I can't quite imagine that volunteering to help in a busy NY commute. But perhaps I underestimate.
Things we have found: houses and condos and rentals just in case I find I can't live without Charleston's warmth, restaurants that were full when I tried them before, one more plantation, and way too many stores with way too many nice things. Also, the FedEX store, followed by the UPS store when we realized that the return envelope was for UPS. And something I have been looking for almost since I got to Charleston -- the pineapple fountain. This is, as I'm sure you've figured out, a large fountain shaped like a pineapple. Since both Judy and I like the pineapple hospitality image and since there is a family tradition/joke about us and the word pineapple, we just had to find that. And we did. By finding the ice cream (actually gelato) shop. We sat there eating our ice cream and realized we were about half a block from that fountain. It is a lovely thing and I will post pictures on Facebook since I still cannot get picture to upload to this blog. And, oh yes, the gelatin was quite good, too.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Finally
If I haven't been posting much over the last few days, it's because I'm probably engaged in the same activity you are: organizing tax records. This is one of those things that is a nuisance no matter where you are, but it is complicated by not being at one's more or less permanent abode.
First of all, it means carrying around a lot of papers and hoping you didn't miss any when you packed. Since I left in January, many, if not all, of the 1099s had not yet hit my mailbox and that means waiting for mail to be forwarded so that then the organizing can begin. That at least is familiar territory and involves primarily opening envelopes and sorting pieces of paper.
The issue is that the outside world is not familiar territory so where does one go to copy documents and ship them to the accountant. Or fax them, if we're talking about the one or two that got overlooked or the form that needs to be signed and back in the accountant's hands. Charleston is a lovely town but parking near the downtown FedEx store does not exist except in parking structures that do not feel close by when you're lugging a tote bag of documents. (I know, I used to do this sort of thing while running through airports on the way to Bermuda, but that was long ago and far away.) And there aren't a lot of alternatives on the peninsula.
But, of course, there is an alternative. It's just that you won't believe how long it took me to realize that my current world doesn't end at the peninsula. There are at least five bridges that connect the area we Northeners think of as Charleston to wider resources. Once again, thank heavens for Google. Once I looked farther down the list, I saw that it was really only a few miles (something I would think nothing of back on Long Island) to a whole bunch of FedEx and UPS locations. And wonder of wonders, they had parking lots (we need to remember that I have never successfully been able to parallel park).
Bottom line, it's all organized and in my accountant's hands and I may even get a refund. Now back to serious sight seeing.
First of all, it means carrying around a lot of papers and hoping you didn't miss any when you packed. Since I left in January, many, if not all, of the 1099s had not yet hit my mailbox and that means waiting for mail to be forwarded so that then the organizing can begin. That at least is familiar territory and involves primarily opening envelopes and sorting pieces of paper.
The issue is that the outside world is not familiar territory so where does one go to copy documents and ship them to the accountant. Or fax them, if we're talking about the one or two that got overlooked or the form that needs to be signed and back in the accountant's hands. Charleston is a lovely town but parking near the downtown FedEx store does not exist except in parking structures that do not feel close by when you're lugging a tote bag of documents. (I know, I used to do this sort of thing while running through airports on the way to Bermuda, but that was long ago and far away.) And there aren't a lot of alternatives on the peninsula.
But, of course, there is an alternative. It's just that you won't believe how long it took me to realize that my current world doesn't end at the peninsula. There are at least five bridges that connect the area we Northeners think of as Charleston to wider resources. Once again, thank heavens for Google. Once I looked farther down the list, I saw that it was really only a few miles (something I would think nothing of back on Long Island) to a whole bunch of FedEx and UPS locations. And wonder of wonders, they had parking lots (we need to remember that I have never successfully been able to parallel park).
Bottom line, it's all organized and in my accountant's hands and I may even get a refund. Now back to serious sight seeing.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Things I Learned From Plantations
1. These places are enormous. Do not even think about it unless you have pretty much the entire day to devote to it. It's not just the house. The whole place is huge and is well worth looking at and perhaps stopping every once in a while to just appreciate the space, the openness…. I believe it could be called atmosphere.
2. Gardens do not have to have flowers in order to be gardens. The English formal garden with its architecture and shape is an almost monochromatic invention that deserves being admired on its own. Some of the current gardeners at these sites have indulged more current tastes and have inserted flowers into spaces in the formal patterns. I can't really criticize because a spot of color isn't a bad thing but I'm almost glad that it's still too early for there to be a lot of color out. What these gardens really need is people strolling and children playing in them. In fact, one of the gardens I saw was specifically designed for children to play in. There were thick hedges to keep small children in, benches for the grown ups and trees just outside the hedges to provide shade but not climbing. The greenest, most inviting playground I can remember.
3. Plantations are farms. They may include sheep who are helping to keep the lawns mowed, horses, cows, chickens, ducks and sometimes resident dogs who are more like official greeters.
4. Plantations are also homes. Some of them actually still have connections to the families who owned them.
5. Plantations come in rows. As you drive out Route 61 from Charleston, you become aware that there are several plantations out that route. In fact, a row of three major ones. When the penny finally drops, you realize that this is because they are located along the Ashley River. And back in the day, it was a lot easier and cheaper to travel or to transport goods by water. All of these plantations will have or have had docks along a lovely river that served as their connection to the coast and to Charleston.
6. Enjoy plantations at your own pace and don't let someone else's structure dictate. This is a lesson that applies to many things, of course. I had decided on a garden tour at one of the sites. The guide was a nice lady but could have used a bit more experience or briefing. She misidentified some of the plants ( I did a lot of botany courses many years ago and some of it still remains, especially about tropical ornamentals, which this far South also grow outside in gardens), mispronounced names and that sort of thing. I followed along dutifully for most of the length and time. Then somewhere in there I thought: Tell me again why I'm doing this? My knees are starting to complain and I'm losing patience with this presentation. Why am I using time and depleting my walking resources on this? So I did one of the smarter things. I dropped out and headed off in another direction. As a result, I came to a huge reflecting pool where I heard about the alligators who sometimes come far enough to sun themselves on the banks of the reflecting pool. Of course, the alligators have to be removed. But they are not removed because of the tourists. They are removed because of the swans who live at the pool and would otherwise be eaten by the alligators. Clearly swans score over tourists. Tourists can just take their chances.
2. Gardens do not have to have flowers in order to be gardens. The English formal garden with its architecture and shape is an almost monochromatic invention that deserves being admired on its own. Some of the current gardeners at these sites have indulged more current tastes and have inserted flowers into spaces in the formal patterns. I can't really criticize because a spot of color isn't a bad thing but I'm almost glad that it's still too early for there to be a lot of color out. What these gardens really need is people strolling and children playing in them. In fact, one of the gardens I saw was specifically designed for children to play in. There were thick hedges to keep small children in, benches for the grown ups and trees just outside the hedges to provide shade but not climbing. The greenest, most inviting playground I can remember.
3. Plantations are farms. They may include sheep who are helping to keep the lawns mowed, horses, cows, chickens, ducks and sometimes resident dogs who are more like official greeters.
4. Plantations are also homes. Some of them actually still have connections to the families who owned them.
5. Plantations come in rows. As you drive out Route 61 from Charleston, you become aware that there are several plantations out that route. In fact, a row of three major ones. When the penny finally drops, you realize that this is because they are located along the Ashley River. And back in the day, it was a lot easier and cheaper to travel or to transport goods by water. All of these plantations will have or have had docks along a lovely river that served as their connection to the coast and to Charleston.
6. Enjoy plantations at your own pace and don't let someone else's structure dictate. This is a lesson that applies to many things, of course. I had decided on a garden tour at one of the sites. The guide was a nice lady but could have used a bit more experience or briefing. She misidentified some of the plants ( I did a lot of botany courses many years ago and some of it still remains, especially about tropical ornamentals, which this far South also grow outside in gardens), mispronounced names and that sort of thing. I followed along dutifully for most of the length and time. Then somewhere in there I thought: Tell me again why I'm doing this? My knees are starting to complain and I'm losing patience with this presentation. Why am I using time and depleting my walking resources on this? So I did one of the smarter things. I dropped out and headed off in another direction. As a result, I came to a huge reflecting pool where I heard about the alligators who sometimes come far enough to sun themselves on the banks of the reflecting pool. Of course, the alligators have to be removed. But they are not removed because of the tourists. They are removed because of the swans who live at the pool and would otherwise be eaten by the alligators. Clearly swans score over tourists. Tourists can just take their chances.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Plantations
It's not that I've run out of historic houses. I don't think there's any way you can do that in this part of the world. But I have started to branch out and get to some of the plantations. First up was Boone, still a working plantation in that it has crops which are grown and sold. The crops include pecans, although Hurricane Hugo did quite a number on their orchard.
This particular plantation emphasizes the Gullah Geechee culture. I found out that Gullah is actually a corruption of Angola and Geechee is a variation on another word for a different area in West Africa. In the area of this plantation, the main crop was rice back then and these were the areas from which the best rice farmers came. So this part of the world, along the Atlantic Coast from Georgia through the Carolinas became the Gullah-Geechee Corridor. It's a language and a heritage.
I learned more about the Underground Railroad and its signs and signals. It makes me proud that the farm in Old Brookville still has the black band around its chimneys to identify it as a safe house. I loved listening to some of the old songs, too.
I also learned that Michelle Obama's great-great-grandfather (there may have been another great in there -- not sure) was a slave in this general area. I realize that there are undoubtedly a great number of blacks in America who have similar family connections, but to hear a name that I recognize, especially the name of the First Lady. That stopped me for a bit. It's one of those times when you realize that we're talking history here, not fiction. This was truly real.
This particular plantation emphasizes the Gullah Geechee culture. I found out that Gullah is actually a corruption of Angola and Geechee is a variation on another word for a different area in West Africa. In the area of this plantation, the main crop was rice back then and these were the areas from which the best rice farmers came. So this part of the world, along the Atlantic Coast from Georgia through the Carolinas became the Gullah-Geechee Corridor. It's a language and a heritage.
I learned more about the Underground Railroad and its signs and signals. It makes me proud that the farm in Old Brookville still has the black band around its chimneys to identify it as a safe house. I loved listening to some of the old songs, too.
I also learned that Michelle Obama's great-great-grandfather (there may have been another great in there -- not sure) was a slave in this general area. I realize that there are undoubtedly a great number of blacks in America who have similar family connections, but to hear a name that I recognize, especially the name of the First Lady. That stopped me for a bit. It's one of those times when you realize that we're talking history here, not fiction. This was truly real.
Friday, March 7, 2014
On Being a Wimp
I know I haven't been posting much over the past few days and that's partly because I've been into this "being a wimp". Over the past several days, Charleston has been having what it considers bad weather. I keep hearing forecasts about serious cold and then possible flooding. Not to mention that we are still going on about the ice storm and it's aftermath.
I don't mean to be unsympathetic, but realizing what it's like in Chicago and the Hudson Valley and Michigan, I have a somewhat different understanding of those terms. All I can say about this spell of bad weather in Charleston is that I don't like chilly rain either, but on the other hand, the row of lilies-of-the-valley outside my window are still doing fine, completely undeterred by the weather whatever it may be called.
The result of all this, however, is that when I hear an awful sounding forecast, I tend to decide to stay in and avoid whatever they're predicting. This means that over the past several days, I have done laundry, organized tax records, and made some calls to figure out some issues with things like insurance and such. I have also done a lot of reading and knitting. I'm working on a cowl scarf for myself and trying to finish it so that I can see if I remember how to do needlepoint before I leave. So no complaints here. It was kind of nice and relaxing. And I don't feel that I'm missing out on anything because I still have a few weeks to check out plantations and theaters. So that's why there hasn't been a whole lot of exciting things to tell you about. But hang in there. It should be warm and at least partly sunny this weekend so I'll get back on the job.
I don't mean to be unsympathetic, but realizing what it's like in Chicago and the Hudson Valley and Michigan, I have a somewhat different understanding of those terms. All I can say about this spell of bad weather in Charleston is that I don't like chilly rain either, but on the other hand, the row of lilies-of-the-valley outside my window are still doing fine, completely undeterred by the weather whatever it may be called.
The result of all this, however, is that when I hear an awful sounding forecast, I tend to decide to stay in and avoid whatever they're predicting. This means that over the past several days, I have done laundry, organized tax records, and made some calls to figure out some issues with things like insurance and such. I have also done a lot of reading and knitting. I'm working on a cowl scarf for myself and trying to finish it so that I can see if I remember how to do needlepoint before I leave. So no complaints here. It was kind of nice and relaxing. And I don't feel that I'm missing out on anything because I still have a few weeks to check out plantations and theaters. So that's why there hasn't been a whole lot of exciting things to tell you about. But hang in there. It should be warm and at least partly sunny this weekend so I'll get back on the job.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Theatre
I had heard about the Spoleto Festival, of course. And I knew this was not the right time for it. So I was not expecting much theater in Charleston at this time of year, if any. But I did notice a number of theaters in my wanderings and started to wonder. One or two, especially with colleges in the city, didn't surprise me, but, with the help of the internet I found myself browsing through quite a number.
Then one day I noticed a sign for a production of The Great Divorce at what turned out to be a theater of the College of Charleston. Not a student production. A professional equity production. A quick look confirmed that this was indeed an adaptation of the C. S. Lewis book. Well, now I was really intrigued. Not only do I love that book, but I was having trouble imagining how you could possibly get it on the stage. So … I bought a ticket.
I was a little concerned. When I went on line to buy the ticket, I was offered amazingly good tickets. Basically very close and dead center. I began to wonder if I would be the only one or almost the only one there. No so. I wouldn't say it was sold out but it was a good house.
The production was darn good. Good acting. Imaginative staging. It's hard to watch a play based on a book that you love and have read multiple times. You've got it in your head. You and the author have created your own work, your own world. So how can anyone do it correctly? By catching you up in their imagination and their work till you get that wonderful moment called suspension of disbelief. Apart from a few sound issues, it was very good.
Now we need a brief flashback. A couple of years ago when I was trying to figure out what I would do if/when I sold the farm, Kit asked me what I really wanted in the place I live. I really thought about it. I thought about weather. I thought about bookstores and knitting shops. I thought about being able to walk to things. Then I went to a great production of Waiting for Godot. Truly great actors but I absolutely hate this play. It is the epitome of a plot where nothing happens. And I keep wanting to pick the characters up and shake them. I know, I know, that's the point. But then there was a conversation with the actors. I can't really figure out how to describe that conversation. It was a conversation with the actors but, more importantly, among the actors. I will probably never like that play but when we left the theater, I said to my friends, "I know where I want to live. I want to live where conversations like this go on."
So, when Great Divorce was over and had been suitably applauded, I was surprised to hear that there would be a conversation about the play for anyone who cared to stay. Hmmmm. Maybe not exactly a sign from Heaven, but enough to get me checking on those other theaters. This visit may now turn into more of a theatre sampler than an old house tour.
Then one day I noticed a sign for a production of The Great Divorce at what turned out to be a theater of the College of Charleston. Not a student production. A professional equity production. A quick look confirmed that this was indeed an adaptation of the C. S. Lewis book. Well, now I was really intrigued. Not only do I love that book, but I was having trouble imagining how you could possibly get it on the stage. So … I bought a ticket.
I was a little concerned. When I went on line to buy the ticket, I was offered amazingly good tickets. Basically very close and dead center. I began to wonder if I would be the only one or almost the only one there. No so. I wouldn't say it was sold out but it was a good house.
The production was darn good. Good acting. Imaginative staging. It's hard to watch a play based on a book that you love and have read multiple times. You've got it in your head. You and the author have created your own work, your own world. So how can anyone do it correctly? By catching you up in their imagination and their work till you get that wonderful moment called suspension of disbelief. Apart from a few sound issues, it was very good.
Now we need a brief flashback. A couple of years ago when I was trying to figure out what I would do if/when I sold the farm, Kit asked me what I really wanted in the place I live. I really thought about it. I thought about weather. I thought about bookstores and knitting shops. I thought about being able to walk to things. Then I went to a great production of Waiting for Godot. Truly great actors but I absolutely hate this play. It is the epitome of a plot where nothing happens. And I keep wanting to pick the characters up and shake them. I know, I know, that's the point. But then there was a conversation with the actors. I can't really figure out how to describe that conversation. It was a conversation with the actors but, more importantly, among the actors. I will probably never like that play but when we left the theater, I said to my friends, "I know where I want to live. I want to live where conversations like this go on."
So, when Great Divorce was over and had been suitably applauded, I was surprised to hear that there would be a conversation about the play for anyone who cared to stay. Hmmmm. Maybe not exactly a sign from Heaven, but enough to get me checking on those other theaters. This visit may now turn into more of a theatre sampler than an old house tour.
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