"Forget flickr! -- What about THE CAT?!?"

"Forget flickr! -- What about THE CAT?!?"
Originally uploaded by ScribeGirl

Maggie is "helping."

Tote

Today I heard someone use "tote" as a verb, as in, if you use the health club's yoga mats, you don't have to tote your own.

"Two hour delay"....

...ah, how we used to wait for those words -- or better yet, "CLOSED" -- on Channel 22 during a "snow day" in Western Mass.! ("snow day" being one of the most lovely pairs of words in the English language -- a bookend to "summer afternoon," of which Henry James said, “Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language”).  From his childhood in Stoneham, Tim remembers the sweet announcement, "NO SCHOOL ALL SCHOOLS."

Tonight, the scrolling weather bulletin under the Alabama/Texas football game said that Craven Community College would have a two hour delay in opening tomorrow.  That is because New Bern is expecting alternating rain and snow showers between 4 a.m. and 10 a.m. tomorrow:  weather report.  Hee, hee!  It will be interesting to compare the North Carolinian view of "severe winter weather" to what we're used to.  Tim was grilling steaks on the black-domed Weber this evening!

Ice tucked among the cypress knees on Brices Creek.

To all -- North and South, East and West -- a good night, and TGIF (one of the greatest combos of 4 letters in the English language, n'est-ce pas?)

Settling in

Say these lines to yourself with a Southern accent:
"Hello, this is Mr. Mallard -- like the duck."
"Isn't this top cute?"  "Yes, mama, and it covers your butt!"
"Now, step back into Down Dawg."

Yes, we are enjoying the accents and especially the rhythms

of retirement in North Carolina following the flurry of activity with our family visitors for Christmas.  My sisters helped me move boxes and re-organize stuff for storage. We assembled the traditional pop-up tree, which is sort of like putting a hula skirt on a flagpole,

made a special Christmas dinner, visited Atlantic Beach and Fort Macon,

met our friends Mark and Chris for lunch at Spouter's in Beaufort,

celebrated New Year's Eve at Captain Ratty's (a spectacular wine-pairing dinner with wine wunderkind Wes)

and toured the inside of Tryon Palace (bedecked with holiday greenery that was starting to look a little dried out--next year, we'll be able to take the "candlelight" tour at the beginning of December) for the first time. The whole family went to inspect an 18-foot, red and white Sea Ray being sold by a young Marine -- looks like it might be a good boat for us, but we don't want to be too hasty.  Although the Goldbergs -- members of the Scioto Boat Club in Columbus, Gerry being a former Commodore there -- did give us a boat hook to encourage our rapid assimilation into the nautical world, here. The above Mr. Mallard, in fact, is a boat dealer who's allegedly on the lookout for a potential "Croatan Queen" for us, modern-day Rose Sayer and Charlie Allnut that we'll no doubt become.

"Now that I've had a taste of it I don't wonder why you love boating," as Rose says to Charlie....

There's tons of home maintenance to attend to, of course. Our guest room had no heat the first night of my sister and brother-in-law's use of it, but that got fixed rapidly, thanks to the excellent Gilbert. A leak in the kitchen sink apparatus seemed to fix itself. (Hmmm.....) The yard is looking a little bare after some problem-tree and shrub removal recommeded by a landscape designer (from New Jersey!) we're working with. Our garden looks good, but in this season, all we're doing is adding compost to it. We have to contend with finding a way to dispose of some really, really noxious chemicals the previous owner left in our garage, and we have lots of stuff to transport to Goodwill and The Restore.  But we'll get to that -- and to getting our driver's licenses and so forth -- soon enough. We have joined Sound Fitness, and already had a few workouts -- the yoga class was where I heard the charming "Down Dawg" phrase.

Speakin' of dawgs, Maggie the cat has adapted to her new house, knowing by some feral instinct what rooms will have the sunniest spot at different hours throughout the day.  She's been outside on her leash several times.

Right now, I'm sitting by the fire with the cat snugged up on the couch nearby.  Tim and I had veggie pasta for dinner --

(our kitchen is pretty organized now that we fixed a broken shelf, but don't ask about the clothes closet situation!) -- a good meal for a chilly night.  Our friends Mark and Chris high-tailed it to Florida today, earlier than planned, because they couldn't take the "cold." I don't mind this weather at all. Though there's ice in the early morning on the opposite bank of Brices Creek, there's no snow, no black ice on the roads, no scraping off of cars in the dark, no white-knuckle white-out drives on the Mass Pike. Just sunshine and the wind in the Spanish moss. 

We are still rather astonished by our retired state -- it does feel almost too good to be true. For over 20 years, even on vacations, we'd be talking and worrying about work. I remember proofreading Focus on the Cape; Tim answered urgent cell phone calls on hiking up a mountainside in New Mexico. For most of my life the tick-tick-tick of the "60 Minutes" clock on TV on Sunday nights was the bleak signal that on Monday I'd be back in harness at school or work after the too-brief frolic in weekend pastures. But now, there's this feeling that each day belongs to me, rather than vice versa.  (I hope that doesn't have echoes of the ominous Third Reich song "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" from Cabaret....)

There's a bunch of stuff we look forward to doing in Historic New Bern. 

There's a foreign film series at the community college, a book discussion series at the library (focusing on authors who grew beyond their Southern small town roots), a training session for volunteers in an adult literacy program, lots of lectures and classes on the Civil War -- er, the War of Northern Aggression -- themes, an antiques show, folk music at a downtown coffeehouse, and a concert by Livingston Taylor at the civic center at the end of the month -- and a 13-week golf fitness program guaranteed to add yards on your drive!  Other highlights: Tim reunites with The Boys at the NCAA convention in Atlanta, and an upcoming visit from "Big Dog" and Gail.

So far, we feel content, fortunate, appreciative. Hallelujah and amen.

Christmas on the Creek

Merry Christmas to you from Brices Creek.

We're thankful to have had a long but comparatively uneventful drive down to our new home, avoiding driving in bad weather by our strategy of hunkering down in Salisbury.  Sunday dawned cold and clear for the rest of our trip. We arrived on Sunday, our stuff arrived Tuesday morning, and my sisters and brother-in-law arrived Tuesday afternoon. Beautiful Carolina blue skies welcomed us, as did our next-door neighbor who brought a Care package of "country sausage," cookies, and crackers. We met another neighbor, Amy, who retired a year ago; she said "it's weird" to not go to work, but she's enjoying it. We'll see how WE do!

For our first dinner as New Bern residents, we went to Captain Ratty's, of course, with our friends Mark and Chris.

Boxes and bins are everywhere, unpacked, half-full, and also still taped-up and mysterious. We are surrounded by a seemingly infinite number of wine glasses, blue windbreakers (Tim's) and boxes labeled "books" (Jeanne's). But we're settling in and functioning, thanks to family help. Maggie has adjusted, after inadvertently spending one night in the dark and chilly garage.

Right now, The Pilgrim Travelers are singing "I'll Be Home for Christmas" (the great Blue Yule cd) as we get ready to join M. & C. at Skysail for sunset cocktails and dinner, after which we'll assemble the famous Pop-up Tree in the fireplace room.

All is pretty much calm and bright here.

We hope it is so with you.

Send-off and take-off

On December 15, there was no turning back: the moving van came for our stuff, and we hosted our own retirement reception on campus.

"Tag sale, anyone?"

At the reception, we enjoyed a surprise agenda of entertainment by The Songbirds, of which I was a founding member, and The Nanci and Laurie (a.k.a. Rufus and Dufus) Show, a longtime Westfield tradition.

The Songbirds: Craig, Kelly, and Tom

We were sincerely moved by our colleagues' expressions of appreciation and good will. We were also suprised to learn that the college dining commons had been named for us -- an honor, or a hint that maybe we should have spent more time in our offices, or the library, or the gym. No, seriously, we are proud to be the only couple for whom a dining commons at the first public co-educational college in America to offer an education without barrier to race, creed or economic status is named.

Weather predictions prevented me from experiencing my official Last Day of Work on campus. A pending storm in the Mid-Atlantic caused us to change our plans for taking off. I spent Friday packing and cleaning, while Tim spent Friday wrapping up in the office and getting tearful affectionate hugs from attractive coworkers.  (Hmmm, what's wrong with this picture?)  Tim did pack the two cars, not an easy task with the amount and variety of stuff we--er, I--had squirreled away in our temporary apartment.  But they were NECESSITIES, like, for instance, my grapevine pumpkin that kept popping out of the car and rolling down the driveway.  But finally, with the heartwarmingly docile Maggie pressed into the cat carrier, we were off, one day earlier than our original ETD.

It took 8 hours to complete what should've been a 6-hour drive, thanks to bumper-to-bumper, stop-and-go traffic just south of NYC. Things have changed since the days of the old Simon and Garfunkel lyric, "....counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike...":  now, it is impossible to count the cars because there are too many too close together going alternately too fast and too slow wedged between too many semis. At one point, the intrepid Maggie managed to extricate herself from her transporter; though alarmed, feeling her nose on my elbow in the dark, I managed to dissuade her from sitting on the dashboard between me and the windshield. Luckily, she perched on the console next to me, in the manner of a loyal Golden Retriever, until we were able to stop at a rest area and re-insert her (more securely this time) into her isolation chamber.

We will miss the Northeast, but we won't miss the "commutes" between our Massachusetts and New Bern homes.

Fortunately, we arrived at our destination, the "pet-friendly" Comfort Inn in Salisbury, Maryland (highly recommended, very comfortable beds), just as the snow began. And so, we are hunkered down here during for my First Official Day of Retirement (Tim has some vacation days to use up before he's official, too) until tomorrow, when the blizzard will have dissipated. Truly a wonderful venue for such a momentous occasion.

"Our View"

Ah, the sunny South.

From NoHo to NoCo: one visitor's introduction to Eastern North Carolina

From NoHo to NoCo

New Bern

Marinas, Mums, a Mansion....

In October, I went to New Bern as a visitor for the last time -- and, for the first time, my pal Trailer ventured to "The Swamp," as she so eloquently describes our Southern estate.  I spent the first day getting new tires for the truck. But if you have to hang out at an automotive place, it might as well be Family Tire, where there's free soda, popcorn, wifi, and a living room set-up with flat screen TV. See why people like New Bern?  M.J. arrived late that night, and the next day we set off for Mum Fest on a bright, hot morning, taking the little ferry across the river. Unfortunately, the recent fish kill made the scenic marina pretty stinky.

Gotta love the carnival atmosphere of Mum Fest right in the center of downtown. We strolled the grounds of Tryon Palace and had lunch at the Pollock Street Deli, a perennial favorite.

Tryon Palace

...Mystery...

We indulged our Gothic interest in cemeteries with a tour of atmospheric Cedar Grove, with its "Weeping Wall," ghostly Spanish moss, finely crafted monuments, and tombs of local worthies.  A native New Bernian on the tour brightly pointed out that she would be laid to rest there someday.  Later in the month, the grounds would be more lively, so to speak, staged with lighting and spooky characters  as one of the settings for the city's annual Ghost Walk.

Cedar Grove Cemetery

...and History...

Foiled in an attempt to see the Estuarium in Historic (Little) Washington, it being closed on Sunday (most things are closed, at least on Sunday morning, in Eastern North Carolina -- even Chick-Fil-A!), we opted for breakfast, a stroll around the town which felt like a combination of 1899 and 1959, and a visit to Historic Bath (all the towns in Eastern North Carolina are officially Historic). Our tour included--you guessed it--history, plus tranquil waterscapes, odd shops (Christmas ornaments made from tobacco twine, anyone?), and of course, them old cotton fields.

We ended our truck tour in Historic Oriental, as The Sun Sank Slowly in The West.

Every visitor to our Brices Creek home is encouraged to have the Total Swamp Experience by venturing out onto the sweet-tea-colored water in a kayak.  Intrepid Trailer was no exception, and despite the cloud and chill of October, we paddled to the quarry, where some developer envisions an enclave of luxury villas with yachts moored in the deep "Stillwater."  But for now, it's still a haven for herons and bass boats.

We hope this is just the first of many visits from our photophile friend, and that her example will serve to encourage others likewise to consider undertaking their own New Bern adventure when we are permanently settled in our spacious New England-style Cape on the cusp of the Croatan National Forest.  (Remodeling by Stroud Custom Homes!)

And remember, if cemeteries and estuaries aren't your thing, there's always the superb wine list at Captain Ratty's!