Chores

For you that don’t know, RVs have a sort of sewer system that needs servicing at regular intervals.

There is a sewer holding tank for “black water”, i.e. anything form the toilet and a holding tank for “gray water, i.e. anything from any other water such as a sink or shower.

In hot weather, the tank can start to kick up some awesome and smelly gas. Typically this gas is contained and vented through the roof.

About every three days a “dump” of the tanks is required.

Gigi has nothing to do with the sewer system. She ignores the fact that it exists.

It is my sole responsibility to maintain and service the sewer system.

In very hot and humid weather you can get a whiff of sewer bleeding over regardless of how well you service the system.

The dogs just love to help me service the sewer tanks in the summer.

Golf

It was golf. We had a fun time.

In no way was it USGA rules golf, but it was golf.

We were treated by the first female drive by a wrist watch flying further than the ball. No names mentioned here.

The ladies did look good. They sported new shoes, skirts and tops. They were hot.

There were enough whiffs to keep us cool in the 90 degree heat.

Often there were times when a reminder of who’s cart was who’s, a gentle reminder to bring the putter and a ball, please hit from the ladies tee.

Talking at the tee box was the norm.

I love the women.

Meals

Meals are always fun when you are camping. They are especially fun when family is involved.

I’ve been married into Gigi’s family for so long that they feel like blood to me.

Tonight Sharon and Hunter came over for dinner.

The menu was grilled pork chops supplied by Barbara and grilled by Reggie. We had boiled red skin potatoes, peas and white corn on the cob.

Lime cheesecake and yellow cake with chocolate icing was for dessert. It was awesome.

Wendell drank some North Carolina Blueberry wine with his dinner.

We all ate in our tent room that is under the RV awning. I have several fans to at least keep some air moving and hopefully cool us down a bit.

After dinner the ladies sit, drink coffee, laugh and chat until dark and the guys wonder off to other things.

I of course am blogging with my time and having a glass of merlot.

We have an 8:17 tee time in the morning. Its guys vs. the girls in golf.

An Email to the Jekyll Island Authority

Gentlemen,

I am writing you all because this affects you all.

Today I booked a 90 minute dolphin tour for 8 leaving from the Marina at 2:00PM.

One of our passengers is handicapped. He can barely walk on his own with the aid of a cane. We thought it would be fun for him to get out and go on the tour with us.

I walked ahead and asked if it was okay to drop off this person at the dock and I was given the okay.

We dropped off the entire party at the dock.

Our driver backed up to make a three point turn to return to the parking lot and was verbally accosted by the dock master. He was rude and belligerent.

He was physically threatening and verbally threatening. He made this scene in front of his employees and other guests boarding the boat. Three of his employees crossed their arms and looked to be squaring off at our driver.

The dock master was upset that our driver had backed onto his grass.

It is my understanding that federal law mandates handicap accessible areas. We saw no signage and tried to make the best of the situation.

I kindly told the dock master to kiss my ass and we packed up everyone back into the pickup and came back to the campground.

We have been coming to Jekyll Island since 1992. Every time I visit the Marina or the restaurant there we have a bad experience. Their service is bad and the food is slow and marginal.

I felt surely they could pull off a boat ride.

Now I have 8 people with sitting around mad when we should have been enjoying a boat ride. 2 of the people are local that live on St Simons.

This could have been handled 50 different ways, all of them much more pleasant.

Reggie Hunnicutt
Site C-11
Jekyll Island Campground

Stinking

Gigi and I were riding our tandem bike this morning when I rode through a big whiff of stink.

I asked Gigi, “Did you smell that? It smells like cat pee.”

“No”, she said. “I wasn’t breathing in.”

Then it occurred to me that the sense of smell is very dependant on breathing in.

Every other sense works all the time, seeing, feeling, hearing and touching.

At lunch so many people were talking at once that I couldn’t understand a damn word anyone was saying. Then I got accused of being deaf when I realized Gigi was talking to me. I had no iota of what she said.

Isn’t it frustrating when you have a big ol’ sneeze worked up and loose it just before you can finish it? It reminds me of something else.

Uncle Wendell can and tries to eat fried oysters every day. In the morning he talks about how good the fried oysters were last night. In the afternoon he talks about trying to find another place to eat fried oysters.

He ate some particularly good oysters last night at Spankys. He said Spankys would bankrupt him if he lived here.
Last night Sharon gave me two real cool books on Home Brewing. I really enjoyed making that batch of beer. I hope Pickens the cat is watching over it while I’m gone.

Motown Concert

The Motown concert at St Simons Island was fun.

We picked up a monster bucket of chicken and headed to my sister in laws house.

Sharon had prepared the drinks and reserved a spot near the lighthouse. Hunter, Bill and I rolled and carried a load over and settled in.

It was quiet crowded already and we squeezed our way to the reserved spot.

Again it was hotter than usual and a breeze was scarce. We gave up after the set and headed home to watch a funny move at Sharon’s.

I got busted big time by Gigi staring at some woman walking by. I swear I didn’t even remember seeing her.

Check out these monster calves

and the weggie. A classic huh?

It's Hot!

It is quite hot and oppressive here. You get soaking wet trying to set up camp and the mosquitoes are vicious. Fun huh? It can be though.

I do not enjoy RVing nearly as much as I used to. But it is the only way to take the dogs with us. I thoroughly enjoy having the dogs with us and there are some conveniences to RVing.

However I can do without the stress of towing, packing, unpacking, cleaning, setup and teardown. It is a lot of work.

Fortunately or unfortunately I am a schedule person. I live and die by what I have planned. If we plan to do nothing then that is a plan to me. Just let me know.

I am with a group of unscheduled people. There is a lot of talk about things they want to do but rarely do they actually pull any event off. That is okay, it’s just the way they are and I respect that. I am different however.

I do know that there is a concert at the lighthouse tonight and I will be there. And there is a dolphin tour tomorrow at 2:00 that I have paid for. Other than that, folks keep talking about riding bikes, going into town, etc. I doubt any of that will happen. If it does it will be hours and hours before they actually muster the organization to get going.

It reminds me of TV people and non TV people. Non TV people somehow think they are culturally superior to TV people. I am a TV person. So is Gigi. We watch entirely different things but we get entertainment value from TV. You that are not TV people are fine too. (I am not talking about you Michael and Terry. You watch movies)

Gigi’s uncle Wendell is here. He’s 75 now and is showing every bit his age. We love Wendell and I enjoy his stories.

Wendell was telling me this morning that age took care of his sex drive years ago. But in his mind he still had dirty thoughts. Then the butt shot he had last year took care of the dirty thoughts too. So he is completely free to think about other things.

Wendell was referring to a series of female hormone shots he had last year for prostate cancer. They wiped his mind clean of any sex.

Then he told me a story about when his entire family got baptized at the church. They all were all to be completely dunked and were requested to bring their own towels.

Wendell said he was holding 5 wet towels and was going to take them to his car. He saw his car below from the third story of the church and decided to toss them out the window to his car to save steps and get back to the service.

He opened the window and tossed out the wet towels to the hood of his new BMW. The weight and velocity of the towels collapsed his car hood. Only Wendell.

What a Day

Good God Almighty! What a day!

We headed out early around 8:30 AM. We stopped by Hess and topped off the diesel tank for the short 3 ½ hour trip to Jekyll.

We spotted a McDonalds a few exits down and decided this would be adequate for breakfast. Anytime I see a sign that says busses welcome I know that I’ll find easy parking for me with my 32 foot travel trailer.

Unfortunately there was a real bus there loaded with real people. It looked like we were on the tail end of their visit so I decided to stay and order.

Now I divert for a slight history and culture lesson. We are in rural Low Country South Carolina. This area for centuries was dominated by a few whites and many straight off the slave ship blacks.

Culturally not a great deal has changed. The Blacks that stayed and did not go north still hold the lower paying jobs and still speak a variation of English called Geechy. I understand Geechy if I think and translate. I had experience living and going to school with many rural black growing up in Durham. So , I learned to understand their language and slang.

So I’m suddenly plunged in a distant long forgotten culture of my childhood, a busload of local blacks in a McDonalds being operated by local blacks. There were all speaking Geechy.

I managed to understand them and they struggled to understand me. We did manage to get breakfast ordered.

I will tell you I was quite surprised to find that they did not offer a country ham biscuit. Country ham is quintessential Southern and is expected to be a breakfast item at any restaurant especially a restaurant in the South. Shame on you McDonalds for not having country ham in the heart of the South.

We headed down the road for the uneventful trip to Jekyll.

About an hour ½ into the trip a car pulls up beside us and beeps their horn and starts pointing to the trailer. From my experience of towing I know this isn’t going to be good. So I turn on the flashers and pull off of VERY busy I-95 South and stop within feet of mile marker 37. I jumped out to cautiously to see what surprise is in store for me.

Upon inspection I find that the right rear passenger tire on the trailer has exploded and is smoking very bad. No fire but it is too hot to touch. The flange and part of the wheel well cover is broken or missing.

Once I determined the fire hazard is over I decide to get on with the tire change. I have a spare and a way to jack up the trailer. All I need to do is get the tire tool out of the pickup tool box and I’ll have it changed in ten minutes.

About a year ago my tool box was broken into while I was at a Carolina Panthers game. Many of my tools were stolen but I did not realize that my tire tool was stolen. So, I do not have the ability to remove the lugs off of my tire. The few wrenches I have do not fit the lugs nor would they have the leverage to remove the lugs if they fit.

So I get back into the idling truck and tell Gigi. “No fear,” she says and she calls the road service provided by her Cingular phone.

I-95 South on the 4th of July is about the busiest a road can be. It is the main artery to Florida and it just so happens this is race weekend in Daytona. Thousands of NASCAR rednecks are streaming by us at 75 MPH in the 90 degree weather.

Cars and trucks are going by so fast and so close that they shake the camper and car.

The dogs are behaving very nicely and everyone is staying comfortable in the AC. Gigi and I have a discussion about whether we will be all mean and pissy or will we choose to stay nice. We agree that we will be nice for now and get mad later.

To make a very long story short we finally get a repair truck to our truck 4 hours later. It costs $170 to remove 5 lug nuts and reinstall five lug nuts.

It would have been a deal at twice the price.

Instead of getting in to the campground early, we arrived around 5 PM.

At this time Gigi and I decided to get pissed off at each other.

Set up was hot but we got through it. Later we decided not to be bitchy to each other and all was well.

On Our Way

The eagle has landed and vacation begun.

I finished my afternoon appointment and headed home. Gigi had everything in order.

We boarded the truck starting first with those needing special assistance, and Cedie came on board, then those traveling with young children, Haley is the baby. And finally those passengers in the main compartment were boarded, Gigi, Boscoe and Peaches.

Haley and Cedie ride up front with me. Boscoe sits on my headrest and Gigi and Peaches sit in the back seat.

We got to Sweetwater about dusk and backed into a slot. Gigi took the dogs out to “do their business” while I set up the camper.

I hooked up Gigi’s new flat panel TV to the TIVO. It looked and worked very well with one exception. The audio failed. I can’t figure out what is wrong. So, we roughed it the first night and had to watch HBO in closed caption.

Speaking of roughing it, we decide to bring the Bunn coffee maker along this time. We miss the quality and speed of the Bunn when we travel. So we swapped out the old Mr. Coffee and put in the Bunn from Home. Awesome road coffee!

The dogs were so excited to wake up in a strange place by the lake. Right now Haley and I are watching this orange sunrise over the foggy lake. Gigi is out shooting a few pictures of it.

Let see, red sky in morning, sailor takes warning. I’ll bet we’ll have thunderstorms tonight.

We plan to pull out in a few hours and hit I-95 south to Jekyll Island.

Steady Lads

We've cleaned the horse stalls, packed the camper, and vacuumed the house. Gigi even cleaned out the
refrigerator.

Boscoe the parrot is already in the travel trailer. The border collies are all set and anxious to get going too.

Now just a final few items and a shower and we’ll be ready to go.

One problem though is I have a client meeting at 3:00 PM. So I’ll make a house call and hopefully I will be hitched up and ready to go by 5 PM.

I figure we can make Sweetwater Campground by dark.

Travel Time

We’re trying something a little different this year. Normally a vacation week for us runs Saturday to Saturday. I like having Sunday for reflection, rest and gearing my brain back for work.

This year we are going to hookup the Travel Trailer, dogs, bird and the misses and get three hours of travel under our belt before we sleep. All of this on a Friday mind you.

The most stressful part of the trip for me is getting through Charlotte and then getting to the other side of Columbia, SC. With Charlotte the issue is traffic. Columbia is just so boring and seems so far away. There is nothing to see.

Ask anyone here how far is Columbia and they’ll say, “It’s an hour.”

An hour my ass. Maybe by bullet train.

We’ll stay over at a little RV park next to a lake in Orangeburg, SC. The place is called Sweetwater Campground. There is a dog there named “Sweetwater Crazy” that checks you in my sniffing you and begging a treat.

This place is actually a farm with cows, and a lake where the owner has put in power and water hookups for RVs traveling down I-26. It makes for a nice convenient and peaceful nights rest.

There is not even a person there to take you money. Once Sweetwater Crazy checks you in, you simply go to the end of the dirt road and drop your money in an honor system metal box. I guess this works well since they still keep the campground open.

The whole point of leaving tonight is we want to avoid a 7 hour drive on I-95 on the 4th of July weekend. Hopefully we’ll wake all happy and refreshed with a 3 ½ hour drive ahead of us.

Once at Jekyll I’ll have plenty of time to set up camp, get the satellite dish pointed, the screen room pitched, etc. Then take the dogs for a beach walk, have evening cocktails and supper. Sounds like a plan. We’ll see how it goes.

Points to Ponder

I was washing the RV this morning and the song by the Temptations, “Papa Was a Rolling Stone” kept going over and over in my head.

I thought to myself, “Self, papa is one sorry ass role model.”

I looked up the lyrics:

I said, Papa was a rolling stone. Wherever he laid his hat was his home.(And when he died) All he left us was alone."

What shocked me is I always thought papa left them with a loan. Not alone. If he left them with a loan then papa was truly a sorry man.

But since papa was clear a lousy role model how in the heck did I think papa got a loan in the first place. You’d be a fool to loan papa money.

I think my mind just switched over to vacation mode, ya think?

TV

I love high definition TV. It looks and sounds better than real life.

Ask Gigi, I’ll watch about anything on a HD channel simply because it’s so clear and the sound is awesome.

Charmed reruns are fine, anything on Discovery HD is fine, old HBO and Showtime movies with has been dead actors like Lee Marvin hold me spellbound for hours.

I will quickly loose interest on the same subject matter on standard definition TV.

We have had high definition TV for a year now and the novelty has not worn off for me.

I am however very tired of documentaries about snakes. Give it a break.

Women don’t get the big deal about superior TV clarity, and superior sound. They simply tolerate our need for HD and are happy to watch their TV in 4:3 ratio while I’m engulfed in 16:9 ratio.

I guess it’s just a basic man woman think like guys are universally going to like the Three Stooges and woman universally are going to hate the Stooges. Substitute Beavis and Butthead for the Stooges if you are young and reading this.

It doesn’t matter to me, they are both funny and stimulate the same part of my male brain. Adolescence is the universal language for most men.

Preparation

I got the RV out of dry dock where she’s been moored since last spring. This sounds more glamorous than the truth.

The truth is it’s been parked in the backyard under a tree since our last RV trip which was Jacksonville, FL last April.

The inside is very clean and the AC has been on about 80 degrees for the past few weeks. This removes any musty smell that could build up under our humid conditions.

The outside however is filthy. A good scrubbing is in order tonight or tomorrow.

Our house sitter waxed the RV last February when we were in St Croix. It could be worse I suppose.

A little soap and bleach and it will be ready for the road.

Gigi just said, “Remember to take some funeral clothes.”

I asked, “Why, who’s dying?”

“Well nobody that I know of. You know someone will die if we don’t have clothes. Then it will be 12 hours of driving to get some clothes or we’ll have to buy new ones at Belks”

Leave it to Gigi to take funeral clothes on vacation.

On a side note, I checked the beer and so far no explosions of any bottles were detected. They say it’s a common rooky mistake to overfill a few on the first batch and hence a few bottles may pop under the pressure.

A Word of Caution

Sampling an unconditioned beer is not a good idea.

Last night I had maybe a cup of beer leftover after the bottling. I thought I would give it a quick sample.

“Not bad, good flavor!” I thought.

Apparently there was more active yeast still in the beer sample than I thought.

By morning I was a bloated gaseous balloon.

Cruel and Unusual

Why are executions carried out so late at night?

I just read where some poor soul in Tennessee was pronounced dead at 3:12 AM EDT Wednesday. He had confessed to killing 19-year-old Marine Suzanne Collins in 1985 while she jogged near a Navy base north of Memphis.

Just for me to be awake at 3:12 AM is cruel and very unusual. 3:12 AM is too late or too early for anyone no matter how you look at it.

What does one do after a 3:12 AM execution? I guess everyone headed to the Waffle shop or is there a formal reception?

I am not a big fan of the death penalty. I believe plenty of folks deserve death, but as a society we have proven all too often that mistakes are made.

Beer Update

I bottled my first batch of beer today.

First I washed and sanitized everything. The bottles were new so I rinsed them in sanitizer and rinsed them in clean water.

I then transferred the beer from the glass carboy (5 gallon jug) back into the 6 gallon plastic pale. The plastic pale has a spigot at the bottom for filling bottles.

There was a noticeable amount of sediment at the bottom of the glass Carboy. This is good. The previous transfer to the glass Carboy was intended to clarify and further age the beer.

I boiled some sugar and water while the transfer was taking place. I added the sugar to the beer about half way through the transfer. This sugar is supposed to activate any yeast left and cause the bottled beer to carbonate. Sugar turning into alcohol will emit C02.

The plastic hose fit neatly on the spigot. I started filling bottles leaving 1 inch of room at the top. I would fill eight 12 ounce bottles and then stop to cap them.

Capping is cool. You simply place a cap on top of the bottle and crimp the cap tightly on the bottle with a crimping tool.

I ended up filling and capping 52 bottles.

With the few ounces left in the bottom I decide to give the beer a taste.

It’s likely this beer will taste like a New Castle Ale. It is very smooth, nice hops, and slightly sweet. I figured the sugar will go away with the final fermentation.

The beer will take a few weeks to carbonate and a few more weeks to age. I plan my first tasting on about the 24th of July. I brewed this batch on June 10th when I was a mere 49 years old.

Redneck Report

The stupid redneck neighbor once again has parked his motorhome in the right of way in front of our house.

As stubborn as he is you’d have to say we match his stubbornness.

In a nice Christian way, Gigi just called the NC Highway Patrol on his sorry mouth breathing, mullet wearing ass.

Random Thoughts

Well my cat can no longer claw my chair but she proved she can puke on it this morning. Good for her. The taunting of her daddy continues.

The Verb "to be"

I turned over in the middle of the night and this came to mind.

The verb “to be” cannot have a direct object. I learned this in 9th grade English.

I was always zoned out in 9th grade English. Most of my thoughts were of girls. Yes I would say my brain was utilizing about 95% of it capacity thinking about girls and the other 5% was used to run my heart, lungs, digestive system, and other body necessities.

Miss Tilley (we called her Bulldog Tilley) roped me back into reality and asked me, “Reggie! Can the verb to be, have a direct object?”

I knew I had a 50/50 shot at this so I confidently blurted out, “Yes.”

Miss Tilley then called on a nearby girl known to have koodies and was overall an un-cool individual. She was asked, “Is he right?”

She answered, “Yes.”

I knew I was home free. This girl was smart. After all I reckoned, she had nothing else to do but study.

But apparently she was thinking about boys and she and I were both wrong. We had both taken the 50/50 odds and lost.

Miss Tilley asked us both to get up in front of the class. We were instructed to hold hands and recite, “The verb to be cannot have a direct object.”

Then we were instructed to knock on every classroom in the building, ask the teacher if we could make an announcement on behalf of Miss Tilley. They all said, “Yes.”

We then held hands and recited,” The verb to be cannot have a direct object”, to about 20 classes.

I never forgot this grammar rule. I still don’t know what it means but I know the rule.

Plus, I ended up marrying a girl so all that thinking about girls was worthwhile.

Pancakes

I got up early and made some pancake mix for our RV trip to Jekyll Island.

This recipe makes in my opinion the best pancakes ever. Made correctly these pancakes are the standard by which all pancakes should be measured.

You can find the recipe by going to this link.

They are well worth the extra effort assuming to have a discriminating palate.

Beer Update

After publishing this blog I plan to go next door to the guest house and begin to soak my 54 beer bottles in a chlorine solution to sterilize them.

Tonight I plan to bottle my beer.

Phoenix

My trip to Phoenix was fun. I got in lots of golf, a few meetings, and the obligatory evening cocktails.

My buddy Ty and I were determined to play as much desert golf as possible. We had three tee times booked and were cautiously optimistic about playing in 110 desert heat.


Ty was amazed at the starkness of the desert and how many people were there.

I have never seen the draw to the desert either but million of folks flock to an area that is very similar to Mars. There’s noting but brown dirt, heat and little dangerous animals the exact color of brown dirt.

When you play there the starter tells you to watch for rattlesnakes, scorpions, spiders, and then tells you where the bathrooms and the waters station are.

I thought it strange about the bathrooms. Most golfers just hide behind a tree to relieve themselves. Beer can make you even braver.

Well there are no trees, bushes or anything suitable to pee behind. Second, you do not pee at all playing in 110 degree heat. I think I only peed maybe 6 times during the entire stay in Phoenix.

There are very skinny prairie dogs, rabbits with giant ears and lizards everywhere. Ty even ran over a prairie dog with the golf cart. It was unavoidable.

Once I thought I spotted a rattlesnake coiled up just ahead. Ty slams on the brakes and I about busted my teeth out on the windshield. Turns out it was a big pile of coyote dung.

It was great to get back. Gigi was there at the airport right on time to pick me up. She looked lovely as always.

Then back home and the welcoming crowd of crazy border collies. Haley was so happy that she dropped and peed. Something I was unable to do for the past 4 days.

Slick Meat

I had to get up unusually early to catch a 7:10 flight to Phoenix.

Your mind does strange things when you know you are getting up earlier than usual.

Most of the night I dreamed that I was attempting to bathe in a public gang shower. It was a nice new clean shower and I was the only one in there. The problem was it had uncovered glass windows on three sides. One side was a retail store, one a parking lot for the store, and one window was the ladies shower.

I forgot my soap and shampoo in this dream so I spent a great deal of time looking for soap leftovers that looked clean so I could bathe.

Folks kept coming in to talk to me. They were of both sexes.

Unlike most of my dream nudity, in this dream I am modest. I have been putting on and peeling off damp sticky clothes all night. I’m surprised I didn’t wake up moldy.

Finally at the last my deceased border collie Galaxy was jumping on me and covering my damp sticky slin with black hair. Then I woke up.

The flight to Phoenix was boarding when I arrived at the gate. I had hoped to have time to buy a quick something to eat.

As it turned out they were serving something on the flight. It was a slick meat sandwich on a greasy wet croissant.

Slick meat is what Gigi’s cousin Dianne calls any unidentified shiny meat that people eat in a sandwich. Dianne will not eat slick meat.

The croissant was as big as a pie plate, was literally wet on the bottom and greasy on the top. It was served in a nice clear plastic bag with no utensils or napkins. Plus this sandwich had big slabs of red shiny meat. Dianne came to mind. Ahhh the slick meat sandwich.

I Am Not Making This Up

I took my dog Peaches to the vet to get her final checkup and release from ACL surgery that she had 8 weeks ago. The vet is on the southern industrial part of Charlotte off of HWY 49 or Tryon Street.

The vet had to sedate peaches one more time for x-rays so I had an hour to kill.

I drove north to go get Gigi a mask and snorkel at the local and well equipped dive shop.

Why in the hell we have a dive shop in Charlotte I will never know. I actually think there are several dive shops

Can you imagine the owner going to the bank to borrow money to start this business?

I can hear the banker now, “You want to do what? Where in the hell are people going to dive? Get out of my office you idiot”

There isn’t an ocean for 200 miles and there is nothing to look at in the lakes here. Even so the ocean on the east coast is so murky you couldn’t see 18 inches in front of you. And again there is nothing to see.

But this dive stuff will come in handy when we get back to St Croix in February.

Here is the strange stuff. I passed the York Memorial Park (a cemetery) and there is a big sign out front, “Buy One Cemetery Lot and Get the Second at Half Price”.

Oh this is quite tempting, but no thanks. Lying on my back until the sun burns out on South Tryon Street at any price just doesn’t float my boat.

Then I go to the bank to cash a check for my upcoming travels to Phoenix and decide to use the drive through teller. I usually avoid the drive through because my diesel truck is so loud and it’s difficult to hear the teller.

But it’s hot today and I had my now very drunk dog Peaches asleep on the front seat.

I shot the little container up the tube with my check and drivers license. We exchanged polite greetings.

She shot the container back and swoosh it arrived with my money and drivers license. I opened the case and a whiff of perfume comes out so strong that it wakes up my dog.

Good Lord Lady!

Morning News

Gigi made an observation early this morning around 5:30 AM.

We woke up early as usual. We were talking in the dark. I was trying to get up the energy to make coffee.

Finally Gigi remarked, “Do you want to watch those folks that have taken showers already and put on their suits?”

“Huh?” I replied.

“You know”, she said, “The local news.”

It is amazing when you think about it.

We turned on the TV and sure enough all the news folks were sitting there all clean and shiny with suits and ties and their hair all done. Not a one looked cranky or sleepy.

I don’t mind getting up. But I am slow to get anything accomplished for an hour or so.

One of my old roommates in college, Dusty, could fall asleep sitting straight up in a chair, drinking coffee after a morning shower. It took explosions to wake him up and threats to get him moving. He never turned out to be a morning news caster.

Cat Claws

I can buy me a new chair soon.

Our adopted cat of one year has succeeded in ripping my favorite chair to shreds. Millie in turn had her front claws removed yesterday.

This chair of mine is very old. It has been around since I was a child. Back then it sat in the basement and had the most ugly brown dot fabric covering it. The house cat slept in it then.

Its style is classic however, sort of a wingback and kind of overstuffed with a low back. My grandfather sat in one identical to mine. I don’t think his was ever recovered. It looked kind of shiny and waxy from years of use.

I would guess the chair was at least 50 years old when I was a kid and we know that that’s been 50 years. So I’d guess this chair I’m in now is 100 years old.

I have had the chair rebuilt once and added a matching ottoman. It’s been recovered at least four times in 30 years.

Seriously though I think I’ll replace it with a recliner.

Man chairs are ugly but comfortable so it might as well be the most comfortable ugly chair you can find.

Camping

Our 32 foot travel trailer is 10 years old. It is a 1996 Citation that was bought slightly used.

The first couple that owned it bought it, towed it a few miles and then parked it without ever sleeping in it or using it.

A 32 foot tag along trailer takes some skill to tow. From the reports I heard the couple experienced some severe trailer sway. This scared them enough to park it and trade in for a motor home.

Their loss was my gain. We bought the trailer nearly new in the late summer of 1996.

Many times over the years we have been tempted to replace the coach with a newer model. I have kept the RV in top condition, by regular maintenance and cleaning.

This year we did a complete overhaul of sorts. I had the brakes replaced, installed new lighting, rewired the satellite TV for TIVO, installed a flat panel LCD TV in the bedroom, installed surround sound in the bedroom, refurbished the water heater, toilet, refrigerator, and replaced the side table in the living room.

It’s a great old coach with many fond memories of places and people we have visited over the past ten years. It’s been from Maine to Florida, to the Gulf coast to deep into Tennessee.

We have all the comforts of home, heat and air, microwave and hardwood floors, TV and radio, queen size bed and carpet, a full kitchen galley and a dining area, and the living room with a rocking chair and sofa. Plus the tiny but efficient bathroom.

We just pile in the three dogs and parrot, some food, and we head down the road on another adventure.

We don’t go as much as we used to. In the beginning it was common for us to go somewhere once a month if only for a few days. Gradually many of the RV campgrounds we used to frequent have been closed and sold for residential development.

We mainly just go to Jekyll Island, GA and Jordon Lake near Raleigh, NC. Plus if we are called to go to say a wedding in Jacksonville, FL, then we prefer to take the camper and dogs rather than stay in a hotel.

Sometimes we visit Gigi’s relatives in Alabama during Christmas. I can recall three Christmas’ spent in that RV. Winter camping can be cozy too.

So like the Space Shuttle and the Concord, I know that her days are numbered. Hopefully we will enjoy several more seasons and create memories worthy of blogging.

Transportation and Being Naked

Dreams. The playground of sleep.

I dream a lot when I sleep. Last night was particularly fruitful. So good did I sleep in fact that I slept until 7:50 AM which is very unusual.

I am fortunate that I remember many of my dreams. They don’t make much sense but I can recall at least part of my dreams every night.

One of my favorite dreams is when I have the ability to fly. It’s really like floating. It is a conscience effort that I use to keep my body aloft while going forward. It sort of like if you could imagine the body position of a person riding a Segway, then sans the Segway and the helmet.

I don’t fly very high or fast however the experience is exhilarating. Passersby’s are very impressed with my ability to fly.

Running in a dream is virtually impossible even if nothing is chasing me.

Just last night I was attempting to jog and it came off as a subdued and stressful skip. No matter what I do or
how I attempt to gain speed I am doomed to fail in a dream.

I am better off flying now that I think about in the light of day.

In my dreams I find myself naked far too often. Not inappropriately dressed or partially dressed but buck ass naked. Just the birthday suit. It gets embarrassing.

There is no forethought that I am not going to wear clothes then discover it wasn’t a good idea. I just realize that I am naked far too often and have no recollection of why I decided to go naked.

Last night I was at a church picnic. I was mingling when I realized I was causing a stir. I determined that my nudity was the issue and gracefully grabbed two paper plates to cover my front and back.

Now let’s think about this for a minute. Me being naked was okay until I realized I was naked. Then when I realized I was naked I thought it was okay to continue to hang around (no pun intended) with two cheap scalloped paper plates covering my goodies.

As I think back, I don’t recall ever having flown naked. That would be a trip.

The Beer Is Transferred and I'm Aging It!

Today is exactly one week since I brewed my beer. I don’t know what I am doing but I have followed the recipe and instructions as perfectly as I can.

I familiarized myself with the siphon and the concept of transferring the beer to a glass secondary vessel. The idea is to leave the yeast sludge behind and transfer the beer for further, albeit slight fermenting and for the beer to clarify and age.

I cleaned everything that would come in contact with the beer.

I pried open the beer container and saw a dark amber brew. The container had a light brown rig around the tub about 2 inches above the beer. This was formed from the foam that accumulated during the fermentation process.

A very nice waft of beer smell engulfed the room. This stuff smells great! It’s real beer! Honest to goodness real beer and I made it!

The siphon started very easily and the transfer began. The beer was slightly cloudy but looked great and smelled divine.

At the bottom of the tub was a think pasty sludge. This all cleaned up easily afterwards.

I capped the glass container, put the valve on and moved it to a dark, cool closet. I covered the beer container in a pillow case just to make sure it was dark.

Light can ruin beer I am told. That is why you use amber bottles.

So we’ll let it sit for the next 10 days or so and then I’ll bottle it.

I think this is going to be really good beer if the smell has anything to say about it.

Saturday!

Oh wow! It’s Saturday! I’ve got lots of stuff to do today.

Let’s see. I have to cut the grass. It’s long. I need to wash the RV but that could be done tomorrow.

The big beer transfer should go off today. This is when I transfer the 6 gallon plastic bucket of beer to a 5 gallon glass container leaving the yeast and sludge behind. This means reading instructions and cleaning stuff. I’ll do that this afternoon. This would be a good time to multitask and watch the US Open.

I need to get about 8 bales of hay for the horses. This should be enough to cover the period I’m in Arizona. Oh heck maybe I should get 10 bales to be safe.

While I’m out I need to go to Lowes and get a 22’ X 6’ green outdoor carpet cut for the RV. This is the real thin stuff. It’s good to keep the awning area clean and keeps dirt out of the RV.

While I’m there, I could stop by Dick’s Sporting goods. Thomas had a cool hat he got there. I would like to own one myself. It’s kind of an old man hat but I’m rapidly becoming an old man so I might as well get it. It’s the full brim hat that covers your ears. Most of my friends have a lifelong goal of not getting their ears clipped away by cancer like their dads or uncles.

Did Gigi say something yesterday about going out for breakfast this morning?

Did I tell Frank Graham to come over today to service the generator? I guess so. I plan to take the generator July 1 on vacation. Oh! I remembered that I need to get some oil and a sparkplug for the generator before he comes over.

It always nice to have the generator so we can pull over and go into Cracker Barrel Restaurant and leave the animals in the RV. The generator allows us to run the AC for them and me if I want a nap afterwards.

It’s about a 7 hour drive from Midland, NC to Jekyll Island, GA, so we plan to stop if we prepare for the heat. There are many years when we just drive on through. By the time you get there I am hungry, grouchy and tired. So it’s best to stop.

I’m taking an extra 5 gallons of diesel in a container this year. The trip with the load of the travel trailer is about the full range of my truck’s fuel tank. I don’t want to run low on fuel if there are any traffic tie-ups on I-95.

Usually there is a point where we sit on some deserted area of I-95 in Georgia waiting for a wreck to clear. And usually you recognize the idiot in the wreck. He was the guy that flew by you 30 minutes ago with crap all over the roof pulling an overloaded and swaying U-Haul trailer at like 85 MPH. It serves him right.

All this talk of vacation takes me back to The Chronicles of Fireball Hunnicutt. Please follow this link to relive the stories of yesteryear.

Free Bug Spray and Paperclips

I was standing in line this morning at Home Depot and saw a display of OFF! bug repellent. It made me think about our upcoming vacation trip to Jekyll Island, GA.


Jekyll is notorious for their mosquitoes. You have to keep plenty of OFF! nearby and apply it often. The goal is to not come home from Jekyll with little scratch scabs all over your legs.

Once you get that mosquito bite you find the scratching so pleasurable that you eventually tear into skin and this makes it scabby.

Fortunately I haven’t had to buy OFF! in ten years.

Our camp site us usually the gathering place where meals are eaten and bug spray is applied. Inevitably people forget their cans of OFF! At the end of vacation I collect up these partially used cans and save them for next year.

I counted seven cans in the RV just the other day.

Likewise I never buy paperclips. I have a small container on my desk half full of clips. I stocked it in the summer of 1999 with a box of small Gem Clips.

Since then I take a clip when I need it and throw a clip in before I toss a clip in the waste basket.

I never run out of paperclips.

I won’t even get into the issue of hangers. Suffice it to say we are knee deep in coat hangers at home. I don’t know how they breed so fast.

Watching Two Sunrises in the Morning

I usually get up early on most weekdays. I enjoy the quiet time by myself, sipping coffee and trying to get a read on the financial news of the day from my laptop computer.

This time of year you start seeing light here around 5:15 AM.

Directly across from me are two large windows looking out over our mostly wooded property. It makes for a beautiful sunrise. You can see the sky thru the green forest canopy. On misty mornings the light streaks in like a cheap velvet painting of Jesus from the sky.


Then I simultaneously watch the sun rise over St Croix harbor in Christiansted, US Virgin Islands.

Mounted on the boardwalk of the harbor is a web cam. The cam is truly unique. There is an abundance of foot traffic, both tourists and locals. In the background however is the beautiful water and sailboats of the harbor.

This time of year the sun makes a dramatic entrance to the right of the screen.

In the winter my local sunrise is delayed about an hour so I get to extend the viewing time of sunrise. I'd rather be there in St Croix in the winter anyway.

Many times there is an older fellow on the boardwalk sitting on the bench watching the sunrise with me. He has no idea that I am looking over his shoulder. But we are both appreciating the same event.

Here in Charlotte it's just me and my cat watching the local sunrise.

Comfort Food

Boy would I love a johnny cake right now. Lamenting about the lack of hushpuppies the other day got me to thinking about them.

I always get a few Johnny cakes when I go to St Croix. I wasn’t raised on johnnie cakes but I should have been. They are semi-sweet and have a good cornmeal flavor. They taste like a lighter version of a doughnut. But they are not greasy.

I took care of that hushpuppy jones and went to my favorite local barbeque restaurant for lunch yesterday.

Spoons BBQ on South Blvd in Charlotte is one of the few independent barbeque restaurants around. They have good lean, chopped pork barbeque, slaw, baked beans, Brunswick stew, hushpuppies, and sweet tea. This is real Southern comfort food.

Another Southern comfort food that I haven’t had in years is potato cakes. Mom used to take leftover mashed potatoes, add diced onions, an egg and who know what else and pan fry small round cakes on each side until they were brown. They were absolutely great! It would make a fantastic breakfast side now that I think about it.

Oh my gosh! Could I use some sweet potato pie right now too? About once a month Dad used to take me to a pie shop on 9th street in Durham. They had the best homemade sweet potato pie. It was so fluffy. That was back in the early 1960s.

I know this will be freaky to some but I used to love it when Mom made chicken hearts and gizzards with gravy over rice. I could eat a yard of that stuff.

Redneck Report

Our Redneck neighbor boldly tested the waters again last night as the first bands of tropical storm Alberto pounded the neighborhood.

Usually we would have been asleep and his late evening antics would have gone unnoticed. As luck would have it I was late getting in from the coast and Gigi was awake.

Gigi called me on the road about 10 PM and informed me that the idiot had parked again in the right of way and the once a week garbage pick up for Wednesday morning was in peril.

A call to the Highway Patrol and the RV was moved by my 11:00 PM arrival.

Notes While Traveling in Eastern NC

I got up early yesterday. I had an appointment down on the Coast of North Carolina at 11:00AM and another on the South Carolina coast around 2:30ish. The SC appointment was with my sister Etta and her husband Al.

I left the house around 7:30. By 8:00 Gigi was calling.

Gigi told me that Haley the youngest Border Collie had made a protest dump in the dining room.

Haley gets mad when I leave early without giving her enough attention. Haley then imposes self punishment on herself by immediately going to her kennel for a time of reflection. This makes us even madder than if she just did the dump then denied it. If she is smart enough to know she did a bad thing then why is she smart enough to know she is about to do a bad thing and tell us so she can go out to take a dump?

In further news Millie the cat had puked in several places.

How is it that big dump trucks with no mud flaps, or license tags can claim to release themselves of liability by posting a sign on the back of their truck that says’ “Not liable for any rocks that may break your windshield. Stay back 200 feet”.

What would happen if one passed me and then clearly came within the 200 foot unilateral treaty zone and sprayed me with rocks? I think I would have a case.

I passed two places that wanted “clean fill dirt”. This amazes me that you can put up a homemade sign requesting dirt and folks from all over will give you thousands of yards of dirt thereby potentially increasing the value of you property.

I have never been in the position where I needed a lot of dirt nor needed to get rid of a lot of dirt.

We had lunch in Calabash. Calabash used to be a little coastal fishing community. Eventually someone opened a seafood restaurant, then another, then another and so on.

What used to be a quaint little village is now a mile of restaurants claiming to be the original restaurant.

A new place called the Grapevine made no such claim.

It is an unwritten law in Calabash that the menu must be simple and must include fried seafood, hushpuppies, slaw, and sweet iced tea. Only slight variations of this standard are acceptable to a natural Southerner.

Well this place was different. They had an extensive wine menu. Wine with greasy fried seafood? Okay that’s new. I can’t exactly think of the paring. Maybe beer, but wine?

Then to top it off, not a hushpuppy in site! This is blasphemy. Hushpuppies are an absolute requirement for any Southern fried seafood dinner anywhere and especially Calabash. You could even you you leave off someting else like the slaw. People rarely eat the slaw. You just expect slaw. But don't take away my hushpuppies!

The Grapevine is not the place to go for a traditional Calabash lunch or dinner. The paring of a bar, wine, fried seafood is strange. The slaw was a bit funky too.

The Grapevine was neither elegant nor folksy. Please don’t jazz up what doesn’t need to be jazzed up. Please!

The Grapevine - Calabash

Speed Record Set For Blogging!

Listen to Reggie as he sets the world land speed record for blogging. He attains the speed of 63 MPH while making a blog entry!

WARNING: Please do not try mobile blogging yourself. Reggie is a trained blogger with many months of blogging experience.

Summer Stress?

This time of year always delivers its own kind of stress. You would think otherwise since summer is my favorite season.

First, it hot as teenage love. The windows at our house are actually steamed and frosted from the humidity. You break into a sweat immediately when you go outside.

I dislike thunderstorms. I am unnaturally afraid of lightening. I fear thunderstorms more than the average person. I don’t crawl under the bed with my dog Peaches, but I respect them greatly.

If it’s not bolts of electricity flying around to kill you then a blown over tree or downed power line might do the trick.

Plus the after storm cleanup isn’t fun. I keep a “stick pile” going in the corner of the pasture for those wet days when I can burn. It’s the only way to keep the storm debris under control. And yes we can burn here in the country.

Currently the financial markets are in a tailspin. It’s most likely just a correction, but stressful never the less. I make my living by up markets and not down markets. Plain and simple.

I have too many planned trips. Poor baby you are saying.

I plan to go to Phoenix in a week, then Jekyll Island, then Jordon Lake. I would love to get up to Smith Mountain Lake to visit my sister and her husband this summer.

Gigi and I have talked about going to Scotland in the fall. Can we get house sitters for the dogs and horses? Oh whoa is me!

It’s almost too hot to play 18 holes of golf. I thought it was just me. I have asked around and most of my friends would be perfectly satisfied to play just 9 in this heat. By number 14 I am shanking and topping the ball from being too exposed to the heat and sweat.

I can’t seem to drink enough water to stay hydrated and alert for 4 hours. And I plan to play golf in Phoenix? At a 110 degrees? What was I thinking?

Well, I am going to enjoy June here in the South in spite of myself and let my stress roll down by back like the recent sweat.

Did I just hear thunder???

I made Beer!

I had planned to get up Saturday and finally make that first batch of beer. I was running out of time to get the first batch brewed and bottled before I went on a conference in Phoenix and then on vacation at Jekyll Island, GA. So it had to be brewed Saturday so the beer would have the 5 to 7 days to ferment, and then the 5 days to clarify, and then the actual bottling of the beer.

As luck would have it, my work location was hit by some powered surge either from a lightening strike or from some other source on Thursday night. It took out all three of my work computers which are critical for us to function. We managed to get by Friday on my laptop computer.

So my top priory Saturday was to get the PCs back up and running. My pal and IT guru Bill Lacy said to bring the PCs over to his house Saturday to trouble shoot and hopefully repair any issues.

I wasn’t too hopeful. One PC started, stank, smoked a bit, and then went dead. One was just plain dead and didn’t attempt to start. The last one moaned a bit then died.

So early Saturday morning Gigi and I headed to my office in Southpark to pick up the PCs.

We had worked ourselves up to eat breakfast at the Original Pancake House. The place is always crowded, the service is good and the pancakes are mediocre. I’m not sure if it’s the syrup or the recipes but they always taste a little funky. The bacon is excellent however. The bacon is thick and smoky tasting with a sweet overtone. And the coffee is good too.

After breakfast and a little nearby shoe shopping, we picked up the PCs and headed for Bill’s house.

In a short time Bill had determined that the power supply on all three PCs had been blown. He happened to have plenty of spare power supplies and in no time had all three PS’s back in service. It’s amazing to see him tear apart one of those PCs and put it back together. He checked out and cleaned most components while he was in there.

One of the PCs runs my office web cam and I had already received two complaints that the webcam was down. So the cam should be back up Monday when I get the PC running again.

So, back to my beer making story.

It was by now late afternoon. The recipe said to realistically block out about 2 ½ to 3 hours to make a batch of beer. This is realistic. It takes some prep and cleaning. It said to expect an hour of cooking and stirring, then a cool down time and loading of the fermenting tank. Then there is cleanup time.

I decide to make the beer at the guesthouse. There is a nice little kitchen and TV.

I followed every step, cleaned, added stuff, stirred, watched golf on TV, sipped a few beers, etc. After a while the brew started to look and smell likes a pretty good microbrew. You could smell the grains and hops. It had a nice dark color.

The brew had a nice foam went I added the water to bring the level to five gallons. I then dumped and stirred in the yeast and capped it off to ferment. There is a small valve at the top to relieve pressure from the fermentation.

I could now provide a service to the community if I was somehow stranded on an island like the folks on LOST. Reggie would be the beer maker and I would be protected and elevated to an important status in this imaginary and primitive community. I don’t think anyone would need a financial advisor on a deserted island. This had long concerned of mine if I was called into action to really have a talent. I can’t build anything, or hunt. I could fish I guess. But now I would be the beer maker. I’m sure I could find something to grind up and boil to make beer. I just don’t want to end up like that fat guy on LOST and be a dispensable parasite.

10:00 AM Update - I checked to see if the vat was bubbling as it should. This indicates that the yeast is working and the beer is fermenting.

Sure enough it sounds like a bong in a college dorm. Bubbles are boiling up from the valve. This is good!

New AC

Our heating and air duct work in our home was 32 years old. It had to be the cheapest money could buy at the time. Having lived in this house for 18 years I know of the cheap building standards of the original contractor in 1974.

So after years of uneven heat and air, dusty table tops after dusting two days earlier, and a reoccurrence of asthma this past December, we decided to get the duct work replaced. While we were at it we had the 18 year old heat pump replaced.

Our contractor Van, is a nice middle aged Jr. Samples type with the overalls and chaw. He and his slightly smaller son with a third boney skinny guy named Randall show up in a beat up pick up yesterday and began tearing out all of the old duct work.

I know you may be wondering where we got this clown. After all our local TV and Radio is cluttered with heating and air ads. This guy is not spending a dime on advertising I can assure you.

Van came well referred by several trusted friends and neighbors. I know that the neighbor A.J. knows his mama and they go to the same church as his own parents go to. This goes a long way in rural settings. And our car mechanic Mark knows him and trusts him even though the Mark has a window air conditioner hanging out the back of his home.

So by the end of the day big ol’ Van emerges from the crawl space under the house (it looked like the house was giving birth to him) with his red clay belly and his face was all sweaty.

Van yelled to the boney guy under the house, “Fire it up!” and the AC was running.

His son (who has a real industrial staple in his ear) showed me the new off-brand compressor that now replaced the familiar old “Carrier” compressor. He explained that these unfamiliar compressors were used in Florida and other coastal areas and they were resistant to salt and rust. He further explained that a dog could could hike his leg and pee on this compressor for 200 days straight before it would begin to rust. I explained that my dogs were girls and they squatted on the ground directly. Even so this was an impressive demonstration.

Gigi and I had become accustomed to cold and hot spaces in the house and bad air. In the summer the air was cool but wet feeling. It was cold in the bedroom and stuffy in the living room.

This morning we woke to a dry and evenly cool house.

Amazing what a little money and a couple of nice bubbas can do for a house.

Crazy Golf Ball

I have a used Titleist DT golf ball with a Mack Trucks logo that I carry with me everywhere. I found it while looking for my golf ball on number 18 at Pine Lake Country Club back in March.

It was buried in the mud and kind of looked like an eye looking back at me. So I dug it out and washed it up and have kept it ever since.

I am not sure why I have kept this ball. I have lost dozens of golf balls since playing golf, but this one has been spared. Go Figure.

It flew with me out to Laguna Beach, CA and rode down to Jacksonville, FL. It even accompanied me to St Croix. It goes to work with me every day. I'll bet this ball has 15,000 traveling miles on it.

It's on my desk now.

By the way I did find my ball that day on 18.

Beer Update

I got my "complete beer kit" off of ebay yesterday. Problem is I need more stuff to actually make it complete.

All I have is a box of powdery stuff and grains with a bag of caps.

I paid $24 for the ebay stuff including shipping.

Now I need to buy a bare basic brewing kit for $78. Plus I need bottles at another $24. I can reuse the kit and bottles. And the grains should cost less if I buy them locally.

The local brew guy was real helpful.

Now I'm up to about $2.40 a bottle for potentially crappy beer.

I Joined AARP Damn it!

Enough said. I am soon to be 50 and I got the AARP letter. How did they know?

I was still basking in the glory of Uncle Sam begging me to join the Army or Navy. That was 1974.

There’s been a lot of water under that bridge. Whew!

I like what my sister Judy said about herself. “I am a brand new old person!” she told me.

So I’m a brand new old person too.

If you look around you'll notice there aren't as many old people around as you used to see. I guess she is right. I'm on deck.

I guess I’m going to have to start getting up at some God awful time now, go to Hardees with all the old men and drink coffee.

Just to be mean I signed up Gigi even though she is 47.

Afternoon Addendum

Yep I am old. I stopped by Lowes Foods for some dog food and peanuts. The bag girl asked me if I needed help taking my groceries to the car. I guess I looked like Walter Brennan to her.

Then I stop by CVS to pick up some pepto bismol for Haley and a prescription. The two girls at the counter were commiting on the taste of pepto bismol. I said, "it tastes like Bazooka Bubble Gum." They had no idea what I was talking about.

Do they still make those bricks of Bazooka Bubble Gum?

Do You like McDonalds Coffee?

Last night while I was sound asleep Gigi asks me loudly, "Do you like McDonalds coffee?"

I didn't say anything. Heck I was roused out of a deep sleep and wasn't sure of my circumstances.

Again she asks me loudly, "Do you like McDonalds coffee?"

I said , "Are you talking to me?"

"Yes," she said.

"Are you asleep?" I asked.

"Yes" she said. Then she broke out in laughter after as she began to realize the dream she was having had run over into reality.

Gigi explained that she had just seen some McDonalds coffee fixed just like I like it with Sweet N Low and cream. Then the coffee was set aside on the shelf because the customer had changed their mind.

Gigi thought this coffee would be perfect for me.

Now I know she hangs out at McDonalds in her sleep.

Fried Baloney Sandwich

Gigi bought some thick sliced Oscar Mayer baloney the other day. We could hardly wait to fry some up for a baloney sandwich.

Sunday lunch was the chosen time.

I actually microwave the baloney now. My sister Judy disputed this technique until she tried it and found the taste to be as good with much less mess and cleanup.

Gigi likes hers with American cheese melted on the hot baloney and mustard. I use mayonnaise and lettuce with cheese. We both like the bread toasted. A tomato slice wouldn't be bad but we didn't do that this time.

I hadn't had a fried baloney sandwich since my sister Judy made them in St Croix two years ago.

This is great southern comfort food and they were great.

Fried Baloney Sandwich

Redneck Update

Well he’s back at it again. The old goober parked his motor home in the right away in front of our house again.

We called the NC Highway Patrol and they will send a trooper to tag the vehicle. This will make it subject to towing.

What an idiot he is.

I don’t think we would be this headstrong about this parking issue if not for the fact he kidnapped our dog while we were out of town and then made light of it when he was confronted by the house sitter.

Updates to follow.

11:00 AM Update

Two NC State troopers came to the Mullet wearing redneck's house and made him move the RV.

What a great role model this guy is for his children.

It's Definitely Summertime

The season of preference is upon us. I really like summer but it does come with its own baggage.

Yesterday I was playing a Friday afternoon round of golf. The whole time we are scanning the sky trying to determine if the distant lightening and thunder is headed our way. I’m usually the first to call a game due to lightening. I’ve had too many close calls and heard too many horror stories about lightening to continue play under the threat.

The storm stayed at bay and we continued play and lived another day.

Gigi had instructed me to pick up some hay for the horses before I got home. So as I delivered the hay I saw Gigi dancing and yelling as she ran out of the stall, manure rake in hand.

“There’s a copperhead in Lady’s stall!” she yelled.

So I went back up to the house to get the 12 gauge shotgun to take care of business. Sure enough there was a nasty copperhead snake coiled up almost hidden in the corner of the stall.

Gigi gets all the horses out of their stalls so they can react to the loud blast.

I’m standing in Lady’s stall with a copperhead and a cocked shotgun waiting for the area to clear. The last thing I want to do is shoot the snake and blast through the wall and hit a horse or dog.

Lady decides she must have her supper NOW! So now I’m in the stall with Lady, Gigi, a copperhead and a cocked shotgun.

Finally the area clears and we take care of the snake.

As I head back to the house I notice tree small blisters on my forearm. Dang, poison ivy. I must have picked that up on the golf course searching for a ball.

As I sit down to fire up the computer I notice the slightest tickle on my arm. Yep, it was the first tick of the season.

Ahhh summertime.

Linville Golf Club

Late last week a mutual fund wholesaler called me and said he was putting together a golf event in Linville, NC at the Linville Golf Club. I had just read about this course in Golf Magazine.

Linville Golf Club is one of the old original Donald Ross courses and it's hard as hell to get a round in there unless you know a member. It is closed from November 1 to May 1 so the conditions of the course are sure to be pristine this time of year along the the classic Ross design.

So I said hell yes I'll play and cleared my schedule for Wednesday.

The tee time was 9AM in Linville. It's about a three hour drive from Charlotte. So three hours for a shower and coffee. Pad in 30 minute for bad traffic or directions and this means getting up at 4AM.

True to my nature I got up early and was out of the house by 5AM.

My first stop was Morganton at a McDonalds for an Egg McMuffin and a Diet Coke. I don't mean to be ugly but this gene pool could use some stirring up. These folks had been breeding together way too long. There person that waited on me was of an indeterminate gender until he spoke.

Absent from the restaurant were any people of color both behind the counter or in the dining room. Not a single Hispanic was in sight. I felt like I had landed in the late 50's. This place felt creepy.

Well on to Linville.

I traveled up windy elevated roads for many miles. No other person or building was in site for about 15 miles. Then the directions had me take a right in the middle of no where and indicated the club was nearby.

Soon I saw the signs of angry young yuppie women in white BMWs with baseball caps and their pony tail hanging from the back. This pissed off look and dress was familiar look of a wealthy woman that I see daily in Charlotte. I never know why they are so mad. I knew the club was near.

I arrived to an old small stone clubhouse that was outdated but well maintained and elegant. Some of the old money folks there were almost comical Thurston Howell III types. Mainly they were here from Florida and the Piedmont area of NC to escape the heat of summer.

This place was nice, uncrowded and not at all snobby.

The course was the best I have ever played. It was in perfect condition and was a Donald Ross classic. Even som of the greens were crowned like so many at Pinhurst #2.

It's a shame I left what little game I have back in Charlotte. My friend Bruce told me to bring a lot of balls and a calculator. He was right. I didn't keep my score but I would guess north of 110. It was fun.

Sign from Home

I mailed a 2005 US Open Pinehurst #2 sign to my favorite beach bar in St Croix. My old friend Bruce Crockett gave it to me after the open last summer.

The beach bar is located across from Cane Bay Beach next to Cane Bay Dive Shop. It used to be called Cane Bay Beach Bar and was renamed with new owners the Full Moon Beach Bar.

The old cane bay bar had lots of signs and license plates from all over the US mainland. I think the old owner took all the signs when he sold the place. They were missed on my trip in February. I noticed a few signs starting to fill the rafters when I visited in May.

So I thought the thin metal US Open sign would make a nice addition to the rafters. Somehow I like knowing my sign is down there and I will enjoy looking at it again in Feb 2007.

Full Moon Beach Bar is one of my favorite places. It looks out over the Caribbean and it is completely open air. The food is good and the owners are friendly.

I'm glad my sign will decorate the rafters.

Holidays

The day of observance for some holidays can get rather complicated. We just finish Memorial day and that falls into the Monday Only category. You can count on that holiday and others like it such as Labor Day to be a Monday only event and you plan acordingly. It makes for a nice short work week following the holiday.

Monday now is actually Tuesday, which is hump day eve, etc. Before you know it you are planning Friday golf and it's the weekend again.

Then you have holidays like Independence Day which falls on the 4th of July that can be celebrated on the weekend, but you get a makeup day the following Monday because you got cheated a day off. This is the ideal setup to have three day off.

But then it can get messy when the holiday falls mid weeks. What days should you take off to make this last? How many years do I have to wait for the holiday to be either on Friday, Saturday Sunday or Monday to get the sacred three day weekend? The probabilities are in your favor.

Then there's Thanksgiving that is going to be the same no matter what. I like that. You can hang your hat on that as soon as you figure out which Thursday in November, then you are done.

Christmas on the other hand sticks to an actual date. I do believe you get a bonus Monday off in some work environments if Christmas falls on the weekend. But what the hell are you going to do with another day off on virtually the shortest and coldest day of the year? "Oh great! I have a day off and it's dark and bitter cold!" What a rip off.

Halloween on the other hand is very flexible. There is an actual day on the calendar but it's just as likely to be celebrated at a different time locally. This holiday is a waste as an adult. Some places of business encourage goofy dress on Halloween but that is the extent of it.

Easter is a real wild card. You aren't sure when it will be except it will be in either March or April. The holiday weather can be either cold or warm.

Then there are personal Reggie holidays to keep up with and plan around like The Masters (first weekend in April) and the Kentucky Derby. Opening weekend of NFL and the Super Bowl fall into this category. You know approximately when it will be but aren't sure until you see it in print.

I'm going to make 5 gallons of beer soon. For some reason I bid on a beer making kit on Ebay and won. I haven't told Gigi yet.

I think it will be fun to make and taste home made beer, but how and where in the hell will I store 5 gallons of beer?

From the picture it seems that you make it in a plastic pale. It comes with 54 bottle caps if I wanted to bottle it and if I happened to have 54 beer bottles around.

Maybe it will turn out real good and I can play around with it. I'll tell Gigi when the package arrives.

We continue to have a turf war with my redneck mullet wearing neighbor. We call him Clifford the Big Redneck. It so easy since his name is Cliff and he is a quintessential redneck.

We have a common cul de sac that borders up to each other. I have kept the area cleared and mowed for as long as I have lived here. I planted some ornamental plants and generally left it as a nice separate shady place for all to enjoy.

A few years ago my mouth breathing redneck neighbor Cliff, bought a motorcycle or 4 wheeler for most every member of his family. He then commenced to assume we would all enjoy hearing and seeing his ignorant mullet wearing mouth breathing relatives ride and make a general nuisance all over the neighborhood.

Contrary to his beliefs the border of my property encompassed most of the area I maintained. Cliff assumed it was his property.

Soon his relatives and other mouth breathing some mullet wearing and other non-mullet wearing loud and rude rednecks starting riding on my property in particular the cul de sac. They ruined the turf and generally ignored my pleas to stop riding on my property.

Apparently in the redneck world you can declare borders without proof and then act accordingly on those declarations. Rednecks then expect to park any of their motor vehicles on any turf they declare their own.

Cliff insisted that half the cul de sac was his. Only a small part was his.

I decided to fence in the area to keep the rednecks off and called for a survey. Just as I knew, the stakes took in about 3/4 of the area Cliff claimed was his.

I put the fence up and Cliff was livid. He still believed I have encroached on his property.

So he began parking his boat, motorhome, dump trailer, pickup truck and whatever he could find on his little portion of land. I in turn had just enlarged my pasture for my horses with the newly fenced area.

That little piece of the cul de sac is his property and he can do what he pleases. So go ahead and park your stuff and don't bother to cut the grass. I believe in personal property rights.

But over our vacation in St Croix the border war situation took a turn for the worse.

Cliff took our dog Haley into his house and held her against her will. Our house sitter was frantic calling for Haley. Finally Cliff released Haley and laughed it off when our house sitter blessed him out.

Then Cliff started parking his motorhome on the street on our right of way in front of our house.

So everyday we call the NC Highway patrol and they tell Cliff to move his vehicle. And every day parks the Motorhome back on the right of way.

This morning the Highway patrol told him he would be subject to arrest if he continued to park on the right of way.

Cliff moved his Motorhome then sped out of the neighborhood.

The saga continues..........

It's hell getting old.

Yesterday I planned to clear the undergrowth that had accumulated along the electric fence. Mostly it was grass and weeds but in some places the undergrowth consisted of small saplings of Redbuds and thick briars.

So to handle the problem with the least effort I rented a industrial weed eater and an industrial hedge trimmer. I remembered years ago I did this by hand and almost perished of poison ivey. I got these nasty blisters everywhere that lasted for weeks.

At 7:30 AM I fired up the equipment and got to work. By 8:15 AM I was completely dehydrated and exhausted from holding the heavy/shakey equipment. I mean dog ass tired. I was barely 1/3 of the way into it and had not even gotten to the bad places with heavy undergrowth.

I went back up to the house to rest and drink water. I noticed blood on my left arm and two bleeding blisters on my left hand. This was after only 45 minutes with heavy work gloves.

I decided to break down the work into manageable 30 minute shifts with 30 minute rest breaks. I thought mentally and physically I could pull off two or three of these before I died from exhaustion.

That strategyy worked for the planned two cycles before I gave up for the day. I'll deal with the rest tomorrow.

My canine pals Haley and Cedie had benn "helping" me most of the morning. Cedie is very good about hanging around and staying close to home. She mostly suns on the deck this time of year. Toady was no different.

Haley however is more of a free spirit, willing to explore. She followed me all along the fence and occationally waded in the creek to cool off.

As previously discussed, I decided to call it a day in the yard and rest before I showered. Haley gladly stretched out under the picnic table to rest with Cedie.

After some time had pasted Gigi asked where Haley and Cedie were. Cedie was where I left her, but Haley had moved on.

Usually just a quick shout, HALEY!, and she would come running. This time however she was nowhere in sight.

To make a long story short, I found Haley about a mile away hiding in some think woods waiting for a familiar face to come by. Once she heard my diesel truck she came running down the remote gravel drivway to flag me down. Cedie was with me and she was beside herself.

The last post on this vacation was Wednesday the 17th even though we didn't leave until the 20th. I completely lost the ability to connect to the Internet both on Earthlink dial up and the local wifi.

Earthlink's node in St Thomas never answered the entire trip. The wifi at the bar was so weak and inconsistent that I stopped attempting to post the blog.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006 - We woke up about the same time usual and pulled back the curtains to reveal the beautiful Caribbean just outside our window. You never get tired of looking at a turquoise panorama.

This morning we had decided to eat breakfast at the hotel.

I'm not as big of a breakfast eater as I used to be but this morning I was craving an egg and toast.

We walked up to the restaurant among the sound of jack hammers and roofing tar heaters. I guess this is to be expected in the off season.

Three separate people asked us what we wanted for breakfast but no coffee or juice appeared. Finally a fourth person took charge and things started to happen. Coffee, juice, eggs, bacon, toast pancakes were the promises.

Eventually it all arrived and it was decent.

I decided to snorkel but didn't want to be along. If I observe long enough someone with equipment would show up and I could buddy with them. I guess this was instilled in me at Boy Scouts. Always have a buddy when swimming.

I saw a buxom young lady and she was with snorkel equipment. That was my queue.

Her name was Tammy. She welcomed the company and safety.

We headed out and kept each other in site as we snorkeled. As we headed to deeper water I noticed a huge fish just ahead and below. I thought it was a tuna. I pointed it out and Tammy and she signaled to me to surface. She informed me that that fish was a quite large barracuda and we best get our butts back to shore.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006 - This place has a very cool shower. It's a 5X6 tile room with a slat dark mahogany wooden ceiling. At one end is a shower curtain and the other end a wooden slat window. Just a few turns and you are wide open to the Caribbean. Its like showering outside. No glass and no screen.

At this resort the ability to communicate with the outside world is abhorrent. So far dial up isn't working. Mobile phones don't work. Most of the time no one answers the phone at the front desk so they can't send an incoming call you. And the wireless internet works only on a cloudless day and the signal is weak at best. I can make outgoing land line calls to the mainland at $3 a minute. Imagine calling you attorney back home and have the clock run at both ends!

We went on the beach this morning. The snorkeling wasn't good today. The surf was churned up a bit and visibility was poor.

Gigi and I tool a walk and lounged in the sun. Terry and Michael were due around noon. Unlike most folks here Terry is always prompt. Her timeliness I guess it's hung over from living on the mainland and catering to mainland tourists.

True to her nature I heard Terry and Michael unloading the car at noon.

I had decided some months ago to ask Terry to com over again so Gigi and I could both get a massage. Terry suggested the open air cabana on the beach. And again true to her nature she gave us both a long relaxing massage. It was double relaxing hearing the ocean waves and feeling the warm breezes as all my stresses go massaged away.

It was the most accommodating and relaxing massage ever. If you are pet deprived, ask Terry to bring her dog Goliath. He's a friendly little pocket dog that is eager to please.

Ambrosia Body Care, call Terry or Michael 340-773-6174 or 340-643-2444


By now it was 2:40 PM and lunch was long overdue. All five of us (Goliath too) headed down the road to Lobster Reef. I have driven past this place dozens of times. It is at the end of a long dirt driveway. This place was a real dive with a million dollar view. It looked like something I would build in the backyard with some boards and plywood.

There were a few friendly cats walking around the dining area. We were the only people there.

The service was very good and the food was good too. Gigi and I both had the lobster quesadilla.

Overall this was a nice pleasant dining experience with friends.

Lobster Reef


By the time we got back it was 6 PM.

Gigi and I ate salads in the room, watched TV and went to bed.

Monday, May 15, 2006 - This is a nice place here at the Carambola but its tired and in need of some refurbishment. Mainly the fixtures are in need of replacement such as furniture, lamps, mirrors and plumbing fixtures. The rest is lovely classic Caribbean architecture.

Coconut trees abound. They are beautiful and run all the way to the beach.

I spent the morning on the beach and snorkeled twice. There is really nice reef just offshore. The reef goes for maybe 100 feet to “the Wall”. The Wall is a deep plunge into the abyss.

Gigi and I decided to go to the Full Moon Bar and Grille for lunch. We still call it Cane Bay Beach Bar.

We had to pass through a herd of goats to get there. They were cute and were just walking down the road to greener pastures.

We saw Assa the cattle dog. She was friendly as usual and it gave us a chance to rub a dog.

The service was good as usual and the food was good. The view is awesome. It takes a while to get your food but it is always hot and prepared well. We ate some awesome cheese burgers with fries and onion rings.

Full Moon Bar and Grille


We then headed into Christiansted. Gigi shopped and I called friends from the harbor web cam on the boardwalk.

Gigi and I met up a few hour later at the Fort Christian Brew Pub for a few drinks. We met some folks from NC and talked the afternoon away out in the Caribbean sunshine.

We were about to leave when we were notified that crab races were about to begin. A line soon formed for people to bet on the crabs. For $2 you pick and name a crab. They write the name on a piece of tape on the back of the crab.

I bet on “Galaxy” and placed bets for others since I was third in line.

A local black woman very colorfully dressed walked through the crowd and sold bags of peanuts. She would take her money after each bag sold and buy a bottle of Budweiser.

A small child stood in the middle of the floor. A rope was attached to his ankle. He was the pivot point for a large chalk circle. Three rings were made. One small circle in the middle was where the race would start. Then a larger circle was drawn for the finish line.

After a huge crowd assembled and all bets had been places the bugle blew (kazoo) announcing the begining of the first race.

Two large buckets of crabs were turned upside down, and then the buckets were removed. The race began!

Any person caught stomping or pointing got taped to their chair. Gigi was soon taped to her chair.

Each winner was put in the “rest bucket” for the final race. The five finalists then raced. Prizes were awarded for 1st through 5th place.

By now it was 7:30 so we headed home. What a fun way to spend an afternoon.

Sunday, May 14, 2006 We had a great night's sleep.

The bags did not come in. I called a nice lady computer at American Airlines and she told me this also. The lady computer was happy that she could help me and asked me to call again later.

This is a nice beach. I took and early morning walk.

I always wondered where all the birds and animals were in St Croix. Now I know. They stay in the rain forest. Everywhere there are loud happy birds and loud happy frogs. The frogs scream all night and the birds sing all day. You get used to it.

It's not as humid today.

A knock at the door and the bellman yelled' “your bag is here!” It was just like Christmas morning. We could brush our teeth and comb our hair. Oh joy!

Margaret and Ken enjoy Mother's Day at the Buccaneer
We took our friend Margaret and her Son Ken out for Mother's Day lunch at the Buccaneer. It was a nice long pleasant lunch catching up with her.

The restaurant was on the waterfront looking out over Christiansted harbor and the mountains beyond. The wait staff was excellent and the food was fast and fresh. The deserts were outstanding. Gigi had the rum cake and I had the chocolate-chocolate cake. We both had a fried fish sandwich and fries.

Mermaid


On the way back to the room I strolled down to the beach bar and got a rum punch. Heck, it's 2:30ish and I'm on vacation. Right Don?

Gigi stopped off by the gift shop and I'm deciding whether to snorkle or take a nap. I'm starting to unwind and enjoy the island.

I did both, a great snorkle and a killer nap.

Okay…I have found the deal. There is a wireless connection at the open bar here at Carambola. It s the only connection I have. Dial-up to St Thomas isn't working. And to top it off, there is a happy hour from 4PM to 6PM at this bar. $1.25 for a domestic beer. So I have strategically arranged my schedule to upload the blog and download email at…..guess what time? Happy hour!!!

Saturday, May 13, 2006- Ahhhh the appointed time is here. No more day dreaming. It's vacation time again.

I'm up early checking flights and doing some final packing. There is always the need to run the vacuum cleaner one last time when you have 3 dogs and a cat inside.

I'm in flight now from Miami to St Croix. It's an old 737 and only about 2/3 full so there is plenty of room. A poor mans first class.

We arrive in St Croix a few minutes early. The humidity is up. Everyone was wet with sweat lugging bags off the plane.

Our car rental person from Centerline met us as usual but the van to take us to the car was out on another call. Okay….it's island time, no worries. So Gigi heads to the luggage claim to pick up the bags and I wait on the van. The van eventually came and I pick up the jeep.

Meanwhile not a single bag has been unloaded from the American Flight. Gigi and another 125 people are standing around in the heat waiting for the luggage to come on the conveyer.

I switched places with Gigi so she could go to the jeep and sit in the air conditioning.

Finally a few bags come out, then a few more. Slooooooowly the luggage builds up volume. Finally I see the first bag, then the second, and wait for the third. It's starting to look bad. Me and a couple of Rasta guys are staring hopelessly at the conveyor.

Okay. 2 out of three ain't bad but I know that is not going to set well with Gigi. It didn't.

I filed the report and they assured us the bag would be on the next 8:50 PM flight from San Juan.

We arrived at the Carambola after doing a little grocery shopping. This is a nice place but in need of good management. The grounds could use some work. The staff is nice but not coordinated. The rooms are large, quintessential Caribbean with the wooden beam ceilings and open ceiling fans and tile floors. The appliances and fixtures need replacing. Two light bulbs are out and the buttons on the phone are unmarked.

The view is great. We are ocean front. It is very lush here. Lots of vegetation.

We are tired and want dinner. All we have eaten is salty airline stuff all day. I want a glass of chardonnay and a seafood salad. We went down to the open air bar/grill and wait. And wait. Other people are getting attention and we aren't. Eventually a really nice waiter came by and took our drink and food order. We wait, and wait. New people come in and get service, drinks and food. Nothing for us. I flag down our waiter and he realized he completely forgot us. He forgot both our drinks and order. It's not like we were in a dark corner either. We were seated in the middle of the open deck.

So we sit back and enjoy a most beautiful sunset. And a few drinks. This is not the place to catch a buzz. You get one drink on their terms. Sip it slowly.

I ordered the house salad with seared tuna with blue cheese and blue cheese crumbles. Gigi ordered the same but with shrimp. She got the crumbles and I didn't. I wasn't about to send this salad back though.

The salads were good. The service was horrible. They deserve the dreaded one shrimp.

Flamboyant Lounge


We attempted to sit up to wait for our bag but fatigue took over and we decided to turn in.

Thursday, May 11, 2006 - We talked to our friends in St Croix today. We are meeting Terry and Michael Tuesday to play and R and R. Then Bacchus on Wednesday night. We are taking Margaret and her son out Sunday for brunch. It's always nice to talk to friends on the island.

We are cleaning the house and getting the pets ready for the sitter.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006 - I shot a 99 round of golf yesterday for the first time on my home course. Oh! I about forgot to take the snorkle stuff out of the attic. I've got to remember the passports too.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006 - Today I packed my special NC salted peanuts in the shell. I can't go a week without them. Let's see, a few beer koozies, flip flops, 6 golf balls just in case, all of the important things.

Prelude - I booked this trip back in February 2006 when the memory of the last St Croix trip was fresh. I had two airline vouchers worth $450 each that expired May 18, 2006. I checked the off-season rates at the Carambola where we had visited in February. I was quite impressed with the resort. The rooms were $150 a night in May. That's a done deal. We booked the room, car and flight before the expiration of the vouchers.

This vacation is going to be cheaper than a trip to the Redneck Riviera, Myrtle Beach, SC. And it's going to be a heck of a lot warmer and tropical than Myrtle Beach.

So here we go again. After all, I turn fifty in 6 weeks so I don't even feel guilty about this indulgence.

I wasn't sure how excited I would be when the time came. After all warm weather should be the norm here in North Carolina in May. And warm was one of the original reasons I started going to St Croix every winter. That is before I fell in love with the place and its people.

Needless to say I am excited if I'm writing this far in advance!

Cold weather is not the norm in May in North Carolina. It has been unusually chilly the past week and should continue to be unseasonably cold. I look forward to the warm breezy 80s of St Croix.