Like a Moth to a Flame

It is that time again. The great Southern tragicomedy resumes. Corruption, cheating, sleaze, scandal, money. Pageantry and cheering crowds. Bands and BBQ. Institutions of higher learning and, well, you get the picture. Toe will meet leather. SEC football.

... and back South again.

We packed our trusty minivan and steamed north through the heat wave towards Philly. Our first night's accommodations:

North Creek Campground in the Jefferson National Forest. A great view to awaken to.


The next night's campground just off Rittenhaus Square in Philly. Was 115 degree heat index that afternoon. No breeze.



All was redeemed by a drive through bucolic Valley Forge to Wharton Esherick' s house. Dreamy and inspiring.

We made it on to Blue Hill with a little detour through Woodstock and a stop in New Hampshire for lobster macaroni and cheese. Cruised out on the water to see a Maine mermaid.

Feasted on a few of the local water bugs. Just add a little boiling water and seaweed and ...


Enjoy! Man they were delicious.


Hiked Blue Hill again and revelled in the view and the temperature. You know you are in a good summertime vacation spot when the high temp for your location is lower than what you have your thermostat set on back home in the deep sweltering humid south.


Visited our favorite bookstore. Ran across a few fellow Athenians. The Cap Man & Terry.
Who all joined us at various times to cruise in the Armada.


Fortunately Terry overcame his gloom and doom to drive from Stonington to visit. Stonington is a happening place. We saw Jason Moran at the Stonington Opera House and visited the Deer Isle Hostel. And of course one can also catch the mail boat to Isle Au Haut to camp.


As we did for a little solitude and beach combing.


A good beach seat.


A little collection.


And a quintessential Maine coastal view. Required!
A week or so later, after depleting the local lobster population, reading as many books as possible by Paddy Leigh Fermor and having a poutine in Portland it was time to head home.


Getting gourmet in the Connecticut countryside near the Housatonic.


Cruising over scenic, sometimes, Mt Mitchell via the Blue Ridge Parkway after passing this beautiful spot on the New River.


And not too may hours later we were home. It was lush and cool here. But as we descended in elevation and rolled into the piedmont we came into a crispy southern fried drought. It was discouraging. But hope springs eternal with a gardener and a little watering, a little mulching, a little pruning and it will all get better. And you can always plan for next year.

Road Trippin'

Gone Down East ...

First Figs of the Summer

I spent three separate occasions this morning standing inside a fig tree eating. On the third pass I finally stopped to collect some for the rest of my family.

Reduce Reuse Recycle

I've been pecking away at Lee HQ and of late this has meant ripping old dimensional framing lumber on a table saw (to 1/2" x 2" nominal) and then using my newly created lath (I realized whilst daydreaming the other day that I've disposed of many cubic yards of the same wood) to line the interior walls of my pout house and then using the drops to cover the ceiling. Hardly any waste! Hardly any cost! And it looks good too.

What Can I Say?

It has been hot around here lately.

Snappy Leaves!

Hey, I found this: Leaf Snap.
I decided to try it out. So I took a picture of a leaf.

It did not work! An improper id! Why? Because I did not follow the instructions. Ah ha. The instructions inform you to take your leaf snap on a white background. So...

Voila. And it worked. A sassafras.

So now I have been trying this one. Still no id. May be because of the shadows or the plant simply is not yet in the database. I understand that not all southeastern flora have been included at this point in time. This is some sort of yew and may be a torreya. Not sure and that information was from a conversation several hours into our last summer solstice party .

Eat a Peach!

Grabbed from a couple of our trees this weekend.

Inside a Cloud, in a Boat, on the Water, Rambling

So that morning, father's day, I lit out on this road for a ramble...

passed by these wonderful fungi ...

grabbed my canoe and went a-paddlin'

crossed this bridge...

passed these sentinels and took a moment to sit and think, alone in the woods, in a cloud.

Summer solstice today. I think 1:16 pm is the closest point to the sun our hemisphere will lean on this journey around the sun. We'll be in the garden with our friends and family beating the heat, one cool beverage at a time. Cheers.

Trotters

Hmm hmm. This little piggy was good eating this weekend. Courtesy of these fellows. This was just about all that was left when the crowd tore into the splayed, smoked beast. Not too long after a massive thunderstorm rolled in, striking the ground and toppling trees and hailing and blowing rain. Almost biblical when one thinks about: blood letting, slitting a beast's throat, congregating, music, chanting and general caring on. The power went off too. The caring on continued.

Tis the Season

For weddings that is. Have spent every weekend for the past month or so at bachelor parties, setting up for weddings, rehearsal dinners and weddings. I know the Epting's tent like the back of my hand. And so when the temps are furnace like and the weddings are outdoors how does one remain sartorially compliant and reasonably unencumbered? Why with seersucker and linen of course! Well, Maker's and ginger ale helps too. In any event, a seersucker suit with a linen shirt and a cotton bow tie is the absolute minimum amount of clothing one can wear and still satisfy the "coat and tie" requirement. And if I might dare say, I think seersucker suits look cool too. So, off to the Hill and then on to Tate and a dip in the cool mountain waters to beat these infernal temps.

100 degrees

Boy it seems a little early for this silliness. 100 degree weather that is and still three weeks to go until it is officially summer! What is a brother to do? Well my brood saddled up the minivan and drove to the piney wilds of Oglethorpe county and down a dirt road and under a cable gate and over a red clay track to get here-an abandoned granite quarry. I know around here these are prime swimming holes with deep, cool, spring fed water. But who knows what secrets those green depths hold? These are better than a river and shoals I say. Look at those broad long shallow steps to lounge on and then the green ledge to drop off. A cool soothing plunge.

Theses huge jumbles of granite slabs abound all over this property. It is hard to believe that something that seems to have so much value would be left in piles deep in the woods. This pile was easily 15 feet tall and certainly was not the largest but it was close and meant I spent the minimum time out of the water.
Not sure if I could capture or describe the shimmer the heat put up yesterday. The granite deck around this quarry seemed to cast up reflected sun rays so as brighten everything from below.
Have been fortunate to go to a couple of quarries and a pond this year already - have yet to brave the chlorinated cement ponds in town. In fact I spent a good Saturday bobbing in Lake Mawaje in a life jacket, aimlessly drifting around the dock, kicking just enough to get out of the occasional upswell of cold bottom water. That was a day. Don't look for Mawaje on a map. It exist somewhere between Sparta, Jewell, Warrenton, Mayfield and my imagination. It can't be found. Hope to make it to Lake Sequoyah this weekend. Cool mountain water, rope swings and a diving tower. May fish a little too if it isn't too much work.

What do I have in common with an Afghan?

We both grow poppies.

Isla Mujeres

Spent a sleepless, long weekend in Isla Mujeres, Mexico this past weekend. The reason? A bachelor party. I'm too old for that stuff. I vow to never again be the oldest person on a trip like this. The chaos. Can't divulge much more. My lips are sealed. I can say that one could vacation on Isla Mujeres and have a quiet, laid back, indolent respite. Lounging on the beach, eating tacos al pastor and heaping piles of fresh fish on homemade tortillas with wonderful fresh salsas and the best ceviche I've ever tasted. Your plate would resemble this:
Mmmmm, that was good. Speared just a few hours before. And yes all washed down with many bottles of golden cervezas. Stayed away from the tequila. I watched it and Montezuma team up to crush one member of our party.

Ahh, the sunrise over the Mexican Caribbean. It looks so benign and welcoming doesn't it? Well that sun lashed us all like a pack of scurvy, mutinous deck hands later that day. And, at my age there is no excuse to not properly administer and maintain a total body coating of sunscreen. Alas, this I failed to do. My skin was seared into streaks and swirls but really only painful from the bottom of my calf down to my ankle. A critical place to apply sunscreen if one is to snorkel for four hours-the shallow reef water lapping over you, soothing your irradiated skin. Only later when flames lick your achilles tendon do you realize your mistake and feel as if you drifted into fire coral.
The photos above was taken from the Rocamar Hotel. I don't recommend it. It looks like a huge, soviet concrete boomerang perched on the seawall. The hotel was not bad but for the same price one could stay here:
Casa el Pio which I heartily recommend. A soothing, quiet, shady place. I shan't say more except go to this place and relax and be slothful. I did spend two nights here and I shuddered when it came time to leave each day and rejoin the bachelor party fray.
I was glad to go to Isla Mujeres and I was glad to go home. My chances for sleep are greater at home with two infants and the garden to take care of than the pack of maniacs I was with. I returned to find Athens a little dry, much cooler than I expected. The groundhogs paid my veggie garden a visit and wiped it clean. The wages of sin, perhaps? The oak leaf hydrangeas are blooming and I'm back where I understand what the sun is going to do to me.

It is good to be home. Cheers.

Happy May Day

I must say that May must be the month for weddings. We have been in full tizzy/mayhem getting our yard ready for a wedding party for Genevieve and Wellborn. The garden is looking mighty nice I must say. It is nice to have a reason to really get the yard right, tight and out of sight. Now this has been a little complicated by my steadfast refusal to cut the grass, so far, this year. My reasons are two fold, 1) I wanted to see how high the rye would really get and watch the paths the animals made through it, 2) allergies. Cutting the grass and weed eating this time of the year leaves me in a Pigpen-esque cloud of pollen that does follow me around all day, subsequently causing my sinuses to belch gallons of snot that require me to snort ounces of prescription nasal spray in order to function like a normal, albeit, heavily medicated human being. In any event the deed has been done, I'm still breathing and we are ready to use the word party as a verb. A few things I observed in the course of my labors yesterday.

A Pomegranate flower...

A sweet shrub seed pod...
An arum flower ...
My chopping block ...
& a Cherokee rose hip. Don't step on these!

A New Path

As if we don't have enough paths around here! Dirt, concrete, cobblestone, gravel. Through grass, woods, over granite and across streams. Human and animal. Stepped, sloped, rarely level sometimes dangerously slippery. Almost all adorned with ferns. And so what do I decide we need? Another path of course. Weaving through the new ginkgoes where the hemlocks once grew crossing from the crescent to the cobbles curving down around the emerald. Or from the central garden to Lee HQ. Depends on one's perspective I suppose. Not yet finished, shall always be tinkered with.