As you know we started the home renovation projects last summer…. and by now? I fully intended to be done, feet up and comfortably seated on our new furniture.
Meanwhile back at Casa River –
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten explores the changes…
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And while our contractor is prepping the floor…
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My husband was roped into cutting in the ceiling paint along the edges of the wall.
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Taking up the damaged sub floor sections, the contractor discovered tar paper …
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And one seriously, not even close to level, major hump in the middle of the room.
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Of course he did.
It’s our God forsaken cursed house after all.
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At this point? If he dug up a blackened corpse in a coffin covered in satanic symbols…
I’d just see it as explanation.
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That hutch is heavy, it’s easier to paint around than move.
As work started on our next living room projects, (new flooring and ceiling repairs) it was time for the familiar refrain to begin chiming in my head.
More work.
More time.
More money.
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Because when carpet and padding was removed in the bump out addition section of the room…
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Damaged floor was discovered. At this point in the continuing saga our renovation nightmare? I expected no less.
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One section was particularly troubling.
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It’s a complete mystery to how or even when this damage occurred.
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The door we just replaced on the right leaked at one time so that would explain water damage on that end…
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But we found bad spots here and there under the windows as well… which could have been caused by the old windows we replaced years ago because though it was damaged, it was completely dry.
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But while the bad spots to the right were dry, that nasty black spot on the left was damp.
I’m a history nerd buff with a specific interest in the Civil War and was really looking forward to exploring Fort Sumter.
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But there was a problem.
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The only way on and off the island is by ferry and even though it was the slow season and there was just one trip a day from Patriots Point? Our time limit was an hour.
60 measly minutes wasn’t nearly enough and to be honest it ticked me off. I understand during the tourist season they have to move as many people on and off as they can, but with only one lousy trip scheduled in the winter you’d think they would allow us more time… but no.
This meant kicking my husband into high gear and almost jogging around the fort to make sure we saw it all. No lollygagging and absolutely no chatting with strangers!
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This is the old battery that they’ve turned into a museum… so we started there.
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The Fort as it looked pre Civil War.
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During the war…
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And after.
The museum itself was small, with lots to read but very few artifacts.
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But a Civil War toothbrush? That’s history nerd buff gold.
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I won’t bore you with a lot of history but this was especially poignant to me.
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Those Who Would Be Free African-Americans and the Fight for Fort Sumter.
Thousands of African-Americans were involved in the Civil War, either by force or by choice. The South used slaves as laborers at war points within the Confederacy. The North enlisted more than 170.000 free men of color in the Union Army. These willing soldiers saw action in virtually every theatre of the war, including Charleston. As soon as war commenced in 1861, slaves were gathered from Southern plantations and sent to such Confederate strongholds as Fort Moultrie and Fort Sumter. Amid the chaos of battle they repaired the forts, built batteries, mounted guns, waited on officers and acted as messengers. At Fort Sumter, slaves worked in constant danger to help defend the fort against the very forces seeking to win their freedom. African-American soldiers in the Union Army served voluntarily distinguishing themselves at such battles as the assault on Fort Wagner on Morris Island. Here, the 54th Massachusetts made history as the first African-American military regiment to ennoble themselves in battle. As word of their courage spread, thousands of other African-Americans volunteered in the war to reunite the country.
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Imagine being forced to defend an installation that’s fighting to keep you enslaved.
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Soldiers were basically living like tunnel rats.
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And the armament that was used back then?
Wow.
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Unbelievable.
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Too bad they didn’t have duct tape.
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Short on time, my speed reading came in handy. Not so my husband who read one placard to my 6. That’s him in the background way back at the beginning.
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In 1858 Fort Sumter became involved in one of the most notorious episodes in slave smuggling. On August 21 the U.S. Navy captured the slave ship Echo and brought it into Charleston Harbor. Of 450 captives, mostly young African girls and boys, 144 had already died. Initially held at Castle Pinckney, the Africans were moved to the larger Fort Sumter still under construction. Following sensational descriptions of their emaciated state, entrepreneurs arranged harbor cruises to witness the grim spectacle at Fort Sumter. Thirty-five captive Africans died while kept at Castle Pinckney and Fort Sumter. Although some Charlestonians provided food and clothing, oth- ers argued that the captives should be sold into slavery. On Constitutional grounds, President James Buchanan ordered the Africans transported home onboard the steamship Niagara. Even with medical care, only 196 of the original 450 captives were still alive by the time they reached Monrovia. The captain and crew of the Echo were tried and acquitted on a technicality.
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That’s a horrible story I knew nothing about before this visit.
One half of the museum was devoted to the Civil War, the other to its previous life.
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Yes, this cross eyed gentleman is the Fort’s namesake.
Sadly I had to drag the husband outside before we’d even glanced at the second half of the museum but my watch said we only had 18 minutes left and missing the boat was not an option.
Call me crazy but aren’t pickled cucumbers just… pickles?
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Required Lord Dudley Mountcatten photo.
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I’m really enjoying the weird and wonderful things people find at thrift stores FB page… and would totally have bought one of these for the man cave. Feed me Seymour!
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No climate change my *ss.
Ice fishing is big business up here but everyone is wondering how much longer they can survive without the actual ice.
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Saw this the other day and saved it for future reference. Posting here in case anyone else wonders what those all flashing thingamagigs represent.
This is a bridge too far. Seats have gotten smaller, food disappeared, we’re charged for baggage and extra leg room and there are more added fees than my phone bill. Now they want to weigh me? Screw you Finnair. If I want to visit Finland I’ll fly to Sweden first and drive. They invented the smorgasbord and don’t care how much I weigh.
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I’m sorry, but this is not news in my house.
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I would expect no less from New Jersey. It is home to the Sopranos after all.
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*Groan*
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This type of thing drives me nuts. I understand language is a living breathing entity that grows and must change with the times. When new technology is added to our world? Sure.. include it. But these entries?
Want an absolutely fool proof easy chicken dinner?
Here it is.
Two large bone in, skin on breasts. Admittedly, these were huge.
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Place in a large roasting pan with two inches of chicken broth. Bouillon cube based broth will work. Add 5 sections of celery, the upper half of the stalks with leaves. Season with paprika and parsley, Pat with butter.
Bake skin side up for 1/2 hour at 350, turn chicken over and bake for an hour and a half, basting a few times. If you like crispy skin, flip chicken over one more time and bake an additional 5 minutes.
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Remove celery and thicken gravy.
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Seen here served with garlic mashed red potatoes and honey glazed carrots.
Or more precisely over the locally famous Ravenel bridge …
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To Patriots Point where we had tickets for a ferry. We arrived early as traffic can be tricky and stumbled on a press conference in the parking lot with the USS Yorktown in the background.
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The mayor and two other officials were rambling on about an upcoming spring yacht race…
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Which we wouldn’t be in the area for nor cared anything about, but my husband being my husband…
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Had to stand there and listen to the whole thing because at the end there was a question and answer period and he asked a question. Why? Because the man has to talk.
While he was doing that I looked around and took photos…
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The bridge from Patriots Point.
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The memorial and half of the Yorktown. I wish I’d known the ship was here, I would have scheduled time to tour her.
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Our ferry.
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The harbor.
And since my husband was still standing at the press conference? I checked out the gift store.
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Where the gifts were decidedly low brow.
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As well as deadly.
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This was absolutely bizarre to me. You’d never see ammunition for sale like this in Maine. It was just sitting there on the floor, in open boxes… where any child could take one.
WTH?
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Press conference over, we boarded our ferry.
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Under the watchful gaze of some pelicans.
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Who pose quite nicely for tourists.
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The ferry had two decks but it was a cold and windy afternoon so we went downstairs to cut the breeze.
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Charleston.
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A U.S. Park ranger gave an interesting lecture on the history of the place we were going to see.
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And though it was an overcast sky…
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It was still a lovely ride once I dragged my wind beaten spouse upstairs to the open deck.
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After 20 minutes…
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There it was.
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Sitting at the mouth of Charleston harbor.
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We disembarked…
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And walked on the very ground where the Civil War began.
Project #7 (8? … 9?… whatever, I’ve lost interest in counting at this point) began with dust protecting plastic being draped.
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Once a mini plastic walled room was in place, work on the ceiling began. I wasn’t looking for perfect at this stage, but I was hoping for better.
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After a mind numbing amount of scraping and dusty, lung clogging sanding…
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A smooth surface was ready for texture.
Our poor contractor tries hard to please and he didn’t want to screw it up by applying too much product, so he set the nozzle to fine and let it dry. It wasn’t close to a match so he sprayed it again. And again. And again. Forced to let it dry in between shots.
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Finally, at the end of the day when he was about to run out of daylight…
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With my husband holding a light so he could see where he was spraying….the optimum amount was reached.
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As usual Lord Dudley Mountcatten did not like the temporary plastic barrier.
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He stared it down, but it didn’t move.
Knowing he gets scolded if he tries to rip his way in, he opted for a more subtle approach.
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The old ‘throw your catnip mouse at the wall and see if breaks through’ maneuver.
He gave up for a while because he knew I was watching but as soon as I left the room?
I heard scratching.
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No mere sheet of plastic will keep Lord Dudley from making his appointed rounds.
Returning to the condo after Boneyard Beach, we met the nightly herd of neighborhood deer.
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They wander the area at will, not the least bit scared of cars or people.
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Southern deer are much smaller than the ones we’re used to seeing up north.
To me these are basically large dogs.
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We wondered where they slept in this area… it’s a beach after all, crowded with houses and very little undeveloped woods.
Did I mention we had dolphins in front of our resort twice a day? Two hours before high tide and two hours before low. They follow and drive the fish and we loved seeing them frolic.
Of course every time I tried to film them they stopped. Pay close attention here and you’ll see one break the surface.
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And speaking of sea creatures, Edisto Island is all about the turtles.
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Brightly painted and prominently displayed.
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Some of them were quite creative.
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On the main drag?
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The sand seemed to be gaining ground.
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And every time we drove by this rental house? We laughed.
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Oops. Major parking dimension miscalculation there.
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Another balcony selfie, slightly squinty as I was looking into the sun.
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 