Tag Archives: Sisters

A secret place

Posted on by
23

I grew up, in what I considered as a child, a very rural area. I didn’t think living in the sticks was very cool when I was a little girl, but looking back now, I remember our neck of the woods as being ever so fascinating. We lived in the country and were surrounded by hundreds of miles of state game lands and state forests. And, as kids, we spent a lot of time exploring and playing in the woods. I’m sure that kind of upbringing is what gives me my love for cool, quiet walks in the woodlands.

We had a path leading from our back yard into some great woodland. Once there, we could go off in several different directions depending on where we wanted go. One place, we called, “Devil’s Canyon.” This is a very cool pile of big rocks, which from the top is a ten to 15 foot drop to the ground below.

We could go further on the path and turn left to go to The Ridge. Back then, The Ridge was a huge hunting lodge with basketball court, softball field, ski slope, ski lodge, pond, picnic pavilions, etc. The owners rented it to groups and we could hide in the woods and spy on their parties, or hang out there ourselves when no one was there. In the winter, we could ice skate on the basketball court or toboggan down the ski slope.

If you did not make these turns, the path from the edge of our yard ended at an old, washed out dirt road that climbed upward, very steeply at times, to the top of a mountain, known as Peterson Hill.  In the summer, we could hike to the top and pick wild blueberries and maybe see a bear.

I have some wonderful memories of Peterson Hill that deserve their own blog post, and I will probably write about them soon, but, for now, thinking about those woods made me remember my special place. 

I had a secret place that I could go to when I was mad at my sisters or ran away from home. It makes me laugh now, because it really wasn’t so secluded or very far from the house. But, to me, the place was magical – a bed of woodlands grass and ferns as the floor, and a nearby rock, so big, I had to use both hands to roll it to hid things under. 

What I remember most about my special place, though, is that for several hours every afternoon, the sun cast beams of sunlight through the canopy of tree branches high overhead warming the grass. I could lay on my soft warm bed and watch the branches sway with the breeze and the sunlight dance all around me. In the winter, the branches were bare and several feet of snow covered the ferns and grass and even my big rock. So, although I knew approximately where my spot was, I could never find it until springtime again.

I was very lucky to have the woods and the streams as a backdrop for my childhood. I was also fortunate to have a sweet special place to go to be by myself when a situation warranted it.

Do you remember your special place?

P.S. I have no pictures of me or my sisters playing in those woods, but I know I had a picture of Carrie and her cousins playing at Devil’s Canyon. I looked through five shoeboxes and eight photo albums but could not find it. If it ever turns up I will scan it and post it.

Share

Ken and Bonnie come to visit

Posted on by
5
Carrie, Brian, Ken and Bonnie in front of Pineapple Fountain at Waterfront Park, Charleston.

Carrie, Brian, Ken and Bonnie in front of Pineapple Fountain at Waterfront Park, Charleston.

My sister, Bonnie, and her husband, Ken, came to our house for a visit last week. Now, for those of you that read my blog, this was not the Yearly Sister Vacation. (That fun get together will take place in August this year at oldest sister Linda’s house.)  

No, this was a spouse vacation; Bon and Ken’s vacation together. I had a wonderful time and hope they did, too.  

On Sunday, we went to Charleston for the day.  The Spoleto Festival was just getting underway. This 17 day event, held each spring in the city, celebrates performing and visual arts. People from all over the world come for this event and the streets were more crowded than usual with tourists, although it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It was easy to find parking and no wait for lunch at our favorite Charleston Greek Restaurant, Old Towne Grille on King Street.  

Carrie and Bonnie at the market, Charleston.

Carrie and Bonnie at the market, Charleston.

After lunch, we strolled through the market. I bought a new paring knife from the knife guy I discovered several years ago when my brother, Dennis, helped me pick out my first pocket knife from him. He also carries great kitchen knives and when I am in the market on a Sunday (the only day he sells there), I stock up on whatever kitchen cutlery I have a need for.

We walked King Street and Market Street and Meeting Street. We walked through St. Philip’s Cemetery, full of famous South Carolinians such as John C. Calhoun, Charles Pinckney, Edward Rutledge and more! We heard The College of Charleston Choir practicing inside the church while we contemplated the old bones of the dead. We had a little respite at Tommy Condon’s Irish Pub on Church Street.

Getting a llittle refreshment at Tommy Condon's Irish Pub.

Getting a little refreshment at Tommy Condon's Irish Pub.

Then we hoofed it to a little crafts fair, where Carrie found a wooden spoon and Bonnie found an Appalachian Bow Saw bread knife.

 

On Monday, Memorial Day, we took the boat out to Lake Marion. Bonnie wore a life vest at first, since she is a little afraid of the water. It was a beautiful day.

It was after she took the vest off that she almost went overboard!

It was after she took the vest off that she almost went overboard!

This was a bucket list item for her. Woohoo! We watched a movie, Big Fish, with Albert Finney, Jessica Lange, Ewan McGregor, Billy Crudup, Steve Bucemi, et al. Every time I watch this movie, I like it more.

Ken's big fish!

Ken's big fish! Look very closely!

And, on another day, we took the boat to Folly Island and did a little salt water fishing. We saw a few dolphins and a shrimp boat head out to sea.

The guys went golfing a few times during the course of the week. One day, while the boys hit the little white bugger, Bon and I went to Elloree. Elloree is a bucolic, quaint little town not far from here. We shopped and had lunch at Amporn’s, a Thai restaurant with the absolute best soups. Bon loves the soup so much there that we had to go back on another day for her to have it again. Matter of fact, that day, she ordered two bowls!

Here are a few other pics that tell the rest of our story!

Share

The Party Line

Posted on by
5

Back in the ’60s when we were young kids,  most families shared a phone line with another household.  In our case,  it was with an old widowed woman who lived down the road.

There were seven people in our household and we had one non-mobile phone located in the livingroom.  It was difficult enough to get a turn to use the phone at my house with that many people living there, but what made it worse was sharing our line with the widowed woman.  You see, if she was using her telephone, we couldn’t use ours.  

Don’t ask me how this modern marvel of technology worked – both households had separate phone numbers, but both her phone number and our phone number shared a line. Get it?

If old lady battle-axe was using her telephone, and someone from my family, say me,  picked up the receiver to make a call while she was using her phone, I did not get a dialtone, but rather could hear her long boring conversation about whatever ailment was ailing her at the time and about all the ailments of whoever she was talking to, too. It was way too much personal information for a public telephone line, in my opinion, not that I was listening.

And, of course, we would have to wait until she finished before we could use the phone.  Sometimes, while one of us was having a conversation with one of our friends, we could hear her pick up her phone and after a minute or two or three, put it back in its cradle, occasionally rather loudly.  Usually after one or two pickups, she would interrupt our call to say, “Get off the phone, I have an important call to make.”  Well, she did that all the time, and as typical children, we ignored her.

Our shared party line existence got ugly. That old woman would wait until we got home home from school, when we would naturally want to use the phone to call the friends we had just been with all day, to use it herself and tie up the line. Sometimes, we would pick up the receiver and hear her in her kitchen preparing her dinner or in her living room watching her television, talking to no one on the phone, but keeping it off the hook so we couldn’t use it, keeping it available for her own use. 

Looking back now, I think she  must have hated sharing a phone line with us. From her perspective, I bet she thought we were rude little hellions. She’d have been right, I suppose.  

You know what else I’m thinking? That this was my life just a mere 40 years ago.  Ancient, depending on your perspective.

We’ve come a long way, baby.

Share