Battling the Crazy

You know that moment in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" where Cameron goes berserk? Well, Thursday was that moment for us. We were all...unsettled. Restless. When I awoke this morning, I knew we had to do something. Something away from the house and the walls that were closing in. A day trip, because we had evening obligations.

We have been longing (well, most of us anyway) to go camping all spring. With the State Parks closed until recently, I decided to update the inside of the camper. I am not done, but I have it to a point where we could go camping in it. Sadly, all the park's playgrounds and inside exhibits are still closed, along with boat rentals. Really, you cannot do much more than hike. We want to wait a while longer to spend several days in one spot. So I planned a three-park spree for today. They were all in a row along I-26. We visited Colonial Dorchester State Historic Site, Givhans Ferry State Park, and Colleton State Park. We packed a picnic lunch and ate under a shady tree before exploring Colonial Dorchester. It was quite warm today, and sunny. And some people may have complained about the sun and the heat, but it was still so much better than the day before. We hiked at Givhans Ferry, though we were losing steam by the time we arrived at Colleton, so we just watched the river roll on by for a bit.

We came home and I made a simple dinner and now people are quiet, and I am able to sit here for a moment or two to capture this moment to look back on and remember when I am having another "Cameron" kind of day.

My family likes to eat more than smile for the camera.

The remains of the church bell tower

one of the many mushrooms I spied today

My people being themselves

brothers

it's hard to read, but this man died in 1798

more mushrooms

Comments

The Door Table

Once there was a store in Georgia. It is no more, but how I wish it was. I likened going in there to treasure hunting. One never knew what was going to be in there, and you had to dig through and wade through all the "other people's treasures" to find your own. I once found a set of blue and white teacups and saucers from England. I found lace handkerchiefs, a rocking chair, and an end table. But by far the best find was my kitchen table. I had stopped by one day while the kids were taking horseback lessons and the then little ones were asleep. The store was not open, but I went up to the window to see if anything new was there. And it was there. The table. And six chairs too! We were in need of a bigger table with Jack on the way. My mom had offered to give us her old one, which I was going to accept if I didn't find something I liked better. I didn't want anyone else to even see the table because I knew it was supposed to be ours, but one can never tell abo

Fog and faith

I stepped out into the coolness of the November morning to start the car and defog the windows, preparing to take Jack to school. Daylight had yet to appear. As we drove the many miles, the sky lightened, and we could see the mist hanging out just above the grass. We usually listen to a story together on our drive, adding commentary, exchanging a knowing glance or a shocked expression as the twists and turns unfold. I relish this time with Jack. I know that all too soon he will be preparing to leave the nest, like his sisters before him. On the drive back, I pull my rosary from my purse and pray. By this time, the sun is just about to appear, making the sky a beautiful orange-pink on the horizon. I am pondering much as I pray, for the path I am on is once again rocky and uncertain. Such is life, whether we have faith or not. Faith makes it bearable. For the most part, the road home is a straight shot and I can see the ribbon of road laid out before me, narrowing in the distance. The

A Tale of a Tail (or the excitement of the day)

First of all, I doubt anyone still checks this little old neglected blog, so I am probably talking to myself right now. But if by chance, there is still someone out there, I will tell the tale of the tail I came to tell. As little boys are apt to do, Peter left his rainboots outside on the front porch several days ago. As they do not add to the decor on the porch, I decided to bring them inside this morning and I put them by the back door, where they belong. There they sat, until the mail truck came by and tucked our mail into the box. I may or may not have mentioned that our property is surrounded by a moat during the rainy days. There is no going to collect the mail without rain boots. Seeing how Peter was supposed to be doing his math lesson, of course he eagerly volunteered to go get the mail. He hopped up from the table and went to put on his boots. The scream that came from him made me leave my seat! I thought he had hurt himself. He claimed there was a roach in his boot. I pick

Lest I Forget

Search This Blog