family – Page 14 – The Hermits' Rest

Issues with My Cultural Heritage

What aspects of your cultural heritage are you most proud of or interested in?

As a Euro-American white person, I’ve been learning a lot about the negative aspects of my ancestors. There’s a lot to tell, and I’m pleased that it’s not being swept under the rug anymore. But there are things to treasure, things to puzzle over, and things to horrify you no matter where your ancestors originated. That’s because people are talented, complex, and often cruel. Everywhere and throughout history.

So, today I’ve been thinking of my ancestry and what parts I’m proud of.

Oh look, Harvest Moon. slightly bigger than last night.

Most of my ancestors on my paternal line came from England. The Kendall family is very old, but I’m most proud of how the first father and son to come over in the 1600s took their indentured servitude and used it to do very well once they were free. That’s the Early American Dream. Then they fought on the winning side of the War of Independence and headed south. Then they lost the next big war and ended up sharecroppers living right along with former enslaved people. I also like that those folks came here to be able to feed themselves, not to foist weird religious beliefs on others.

I wonder if any of them were fascinated by tiny hover flies?

Now, on my grandmother’s side there were some French Huguenots. They were among the many religious fanatics to come to the US to escape persecution and promote their cause. The other bunch on that side were Scots-Irish. Yep. Getting away from religious stuff. Well, that and famines. They all ended up nice, Appalachians, some who did well and some who didn’t. Typical American white immigrant story.

Maybe some were herbalists and inspired my love for wildflowers.

I do love the folk tales, wisdom, and pre-Christian spiritual traditions of Great Britain and Ireland. They tie me to a much more distant past. And yes, I realize those people could be cruel as well as kind, just like the Romans and all that.

I was fascinated by the sun on flowers this morning.

I’ve written a lot about my mom’s ancestors being brought to Florida from Menorca to be slaves on sugar cane or rice plantations. It’s a fascinating little tale, and I’m really proud of the Canova folks for escaping and hanging out with the Native Americans until they could come back and become prosperous business owners in St. Augustine. Those were some strong Mediterranean people.

My maternal grandfather was Swedish. I like that his ancestors stayed together in the same villages for many generations. I’ve never experienced a community with such deep roots. Still, the Andersons finally headed out in the very early 1900s, again because they were hungry. Most of them went to Minnesota, but my grandfather was an adventurous guy. He left there to work on the Panama Canal as a surveyor and ended up in Florida, where I’m sure he seemed quite exotic on his fancy white horse. (Maybe he’s where my horse-loving genes came from.)

I guess I’m proud that my ancestors took big risks and got through hardship. No doubt we’re all descendants of the people who survived the risks and danger long enough to reproduce, huh?

Back then, they didn’t even have bad county roads to travel on.

And when you look at what they went through, the persecution, the ignorance, the huge changes, you can get some perspective to use on today’s challenges. Humans have never had it easy, and never has there been a time or culture without suffering and joy. I’m sure you already knew that.

I just like the swoopy lines in this one. Those are starlings, also European immigrants.

In summary, I don’t think my heritage is better or worse than anyone else’s. I’d like to think I’ve learned from some of their mistakes, and can benefit from some of their contributions to the world.

Now let us ponder the shoe on a fence post. It’s always there if someone needs it!

Life without Music

What would your life be like without music?

My life has always been filled with music. I started “training” my voice trying to imitate Julie Andrews before I started school. We only had one album, Mary Poppins. I sang in choir from 6th grade through high school (where it was chorus, because I guess choir is for church).

I was not the greatest singer, but I was very helpful in choruses, because I could read music (2 years of piano lessons, which I sucked at), I was loud, and I could sing any part but bass, thanks to my range. And I loved harmony, oh so much.

You can see why I sang tenor. Not a lot of dudes.

I also was crazed for folk and rock music, so I kept on singing with Linda Ronstadt and her cohorts. I liked music that was complex but clean, whether classical or rock opera (mmm, Quadrophenia…want me to sing the whole thing?)

High school singing. My brother is at left.

I didn’t sing for many years after high school, due to hard feelings with my music teacher. I don’t remember what it was about. But I sang informally with friends and wished I didn’t have such fat, stubby non-guitar-suited fingers. Listening was always part of life. I wish I had my albums.

I loved to sing. This is our folk group with Eddie Collins added.

I started a second round of singing in my late thirties through 50s. I learned a lot singing in the choir at the Unitarian Universalist church we attended. Our choir director was a great teacher and extremely patient with the motley crew who showed up. It ranged from professionals to first-time singers. It was a lot of fun, and a great outlet for my soul. Harmony is just the best.

Church choir, maybe the concert when my voice quit.

I also worked with the church-sponsored folk music coffeehouse. I met many wonderful Americana artists who are still my friends. For a few years, my dear friend Jeff, a great musician, lived with me and the boys. We had CDs recorded at our house!

I think that was great education for my kids, especially the one that became a professional musician. During those years we all heard a lot of live music!

At some point two of my friends from church and I started learning songs and playing together. Both Bill and Austin sang well and were (are) great guitar players. It was fulfilling to work out harmonies and figure out what songs worked best for our voices. We didn’t perform in public much but it was great fun when we did.

Later, we joined our church band, and the opportunity to make music with my kids and husband was very special. We ended up doing songs that weren’t suited to me, but I kept trying until we moved to the ranch.

Probably the most musical fun I ever had was singing with two different choruses in Austin. I got to learn hard choral music and sing with people who were much better singers than me. It was like being the smartest person in high school only to discover you are average in college. Or in my case, grad school. I loved learning the difficult pieces and learning from others!

I can’t forget 6 years as a band mom following my kids around. That counts as music (this is the Cameron band years ago).

My singing stopped abruptly when I damaged my vocal cords singing the highest parts in Judas Maccabaeus. It was fun until I realized I’d list B, C, and D above middle C. That messed up most songs. I was the only second soprano in our church Christmas program and when I tried to sing, nothing came out. I was very embarrassed.

My friends Jim and Sherry, folks I met during the coffeehouse years.

Luckily, I have a very musical family, so for a few more years I got to enjoy Lee and my sons playing. We’d have jams on holidays, and Declan would play his rock songs and classical guitar for me. I truly enjoyed that.

This is my son in a band called Sherry. He’s still in bands with some of these folks.

But. Sigh. Lee’s hands have stopped working. He has pretty bad arthritis. That’s so hard for a lifelong bass player. He played since he was a teen, toured with bands, and worked in radio. He still listens a lot.

This early band Declan was in has folks who’ve moved on to do great things.

I don’t. I probably will eventually, but much of my favorite music makes me sad. I’ve lost my mandolin playing son, and I don’t get to hear Declan anymore. The last time I heard him play guitar was two years ago, when he was playing the Moonlight Sonata and my sister staged a big fall to bring the attention back to her. Unpleasantness ensued. That’s the last time I ever saw her, as she left town the next day and has officially “disowned” me.

Declan has never played for us again.

Geez. This took a sad turn. I don’t dwell on this stuff or sit around wondering what’s so awful about me that relatives are fleeing in droves. Stuff just happens. I’ll keep trying to be a good person and not worry about people who have problems with me and don’t want to work it out. What else can you do?

Declan still plays, though. This is Big Dallas.

I’m glad I’ve had so much music in my life. I know I’d be much different if I hadn’t learned so much about music and made so many wonderful music friends. It’s a treasured part of my life.

Holidays around Here

How do you celebrate holidays?

I am not looking forward to answering this. The past few years holidays have been very confusing, because it’s hard to plan. With all the emergencies and life changes, we never know who will be around to celebrate or when. And I’ve lost two family members (they aren’t dead; they just consider me dead to them). It’s a good thing I’m not big on Christian holidays. I’d be miserable.

I really miss Christmas trees. I used to have lots. This was my Nature Tree in 2014.

I guess we’re not alone. So many families have so many branches that want to see each member. Divorces, marriages, and squabbles make holidays hard for lots of us. So I won’t complain, just note that I sure liked holidays when I had a little nuclear family.

And I’ve finally stopped giving so many gifts. I really used to love watching family open presents. But when I found things I knitted for someone stuffed under a bed and saw things I’d carefully picked for people never move from the spot they set them, I realized I was just piling unwanted things on people. I do love a thoughtful gift, myself. I have nearly every gift my children gave me displayed so I can look at them.

This is the reaction I always hoped for.

For a few years, when we had both kids and Declan’s partner to enjoy Christmas with, we traveled for Christmas. That was wonderful. There were such good times hiking, making music, eating, and exploring.

The place in Ruidoso had a pool table. Fun!

No matter who’s here, I do enjoy a traditional Anerican Thanksgiving. I love the familiar dishes, along with the ones our many attendees bring from their families, like Anita’s “damn yams” that are ridiculously sweet. I’m one of the few who like my homemade cranberry-orange sauce, so we always include the can-shaped stuff, too.

My favorite holiday to eat at is New Year’s Day, since I insist on cooking what I ate growing up, but add pork loin for the manly nest-eating men who don’t find black-eyed peas and collard greens as appealing as I do. (I do make the greens delicious, though.)

Other holidays we don’t do much for anymore. No children come trick or treating out here, and I don’t do Easter eggs for similar reasons. I’m not into any special activities for the Patriotic holidays other than putting out a flag.

I enjoy traditional Celtic Wheel of the Year observances, but I do it more privately now than I used to. I’m trying to blend in more now that there’s so much violent energy being directed at people who don’t fit the MAGA profile.

The wheel moves to Mabon at the equinox.

Still, it’s fun to watch how other families celebrate their own traditions. Holidays in nearly all cultures seem like fun and a good way to relax. I hope we get to continue to be a multi-cultural society.

Everyone likes a flower, even from a Buffalo bur

Let’s celebrate! I’m going to try to stop missing old ways of observing holidays and find something new!

Bonus hawk Declan and I saw while chatting this morning.

A Cool Peaceful Evening

What are you doing this evening?

What an odd question, but one I can answer without torturing myself or becoming angsty. Hooray!

First off, I’m spending my evening basking in the genuinely pleasant, damp weather. What? It rained! It was the first significant rain since June 16. And for once, we didn’t immediately flood. We just got about a quarter inch that can soak in. It’s going to rain for the next few days, so goodbye to the Heat Dome of Hades! The high today didn’t even hit 90°.

This evening I also got my hair cut, which was long overdue. It’s growing out a bit. My hair stylist is a real hoot, too. She ran to her salon from a cross country meet, cut my hair in a half hour, then ran back to JV football practice. That’s one busy mom.

She cut my hair dry and straightened it as she cut it. It was an interesting technique and magically made my growing out layers look perfect. I don’t get to see my hair straight very often, so I enjoyed this experience a lot. The back looks pretty, too.

That looks fancy. I’m told it will also look good with my waves. I wonder if it look great all sweaty?

The rest of the evening has been spent hanging out with Lee and the dogs. Lee has some virus, but cooked dinner to cheer himself up. After that, I knitted and hung out with Carlton. That’s so perfect.

Well, it’s perfect other than getting all his precious white hair all over my shirt and temperature blanket.

Lee has been lying on the couch all night feeling feverish. The dogs felt compelled to cool him off. At one point Penney was on one side licking his hand, while Harvey was on the other side, licking his leg through his pants. Goldie hasn’t left his side. Like the horses, dogs know when people feel bad.

And that’s my exciting evening. I was at an online conference all day, so knitting and blogging is about all I can handle. The rest of the week will be more fun. Why did they ask this on a Wednesday?

Is There an Ideal Week?

Describe your ideal week.

I thought about this all day long today, and I had plenty of time to think as I worked in the actual Dell Technologies offices today. The scenery didn’t distract me, even though I had a window view.

Ooh, look, the 45 Toll Road! It leads straight to my dentist, which is why I was in the area.

I’m sure there’s some Golden Perfect week that involves riding horses on the beach, bathing in a spring-fed pond, working on the Great Sunarian Novel, knitting in a hammock on a porch with bird feeders nearby, and eating nothing but oysters, fish, fresh veggies and ripe fruit…but that’s not realistic.

Excuse me, you forgot to mention petting dogs.

Realistically, I think I’ve got all the ingredients it takes to make for a perfect week, right here in scenic Milam County, Texas. Here are the components of my perfect week, which might not all occur in any one week:

Meaningful work. I’m glad I have a job I like to bring in money and challenge me.
Writing. I’ll have to write every day, line I do now.
Reading. I read constantly when not knitting, writing, or horsing.
Horses. Every day I want quality time with horses, to make up for the years I didn’t have any. I will keep riding and learning.
Other pets. I have to be with the doggies and chickens to remind myself there are so many ways to live and love.
Volunteer work. I like my Master Naturalist work and want to do it as much as I can squeeze in.
Swimming. I never used to like it, but I enjoy it all year now.
Meditation. As I wrote about earlier, it’s part of any ideal week.
Travel. Not every week, but often, I want to go camping, or to a condo in a new place.
Friends. I love that I have scheduled times to see friends in person and Zoom every week.
Family. Time just talking and laughing with Lee hard to happen regularly. I’m hoping tune with the rest of the family will become regular soon.
Hanging out in nature. It’s a must or I get all irritated and irritating. I need to feel like I’m a small part of the big picture.

Wow. I just kept going there. The good news is that I usually have most of these things every week, so my life is now ideal. Yay, I made it to where I hoped I’d be when I was younger!

Note: in any ideal week the temperature will NOT be over 100°F nor will there be a polar vortex. But, thanks, humanity, you’ve guaranteed extremes for the rest of my life. That’s not ideal, is it?

Far Away Memories

Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.

I haven’t traveled all that much. My parents could not afford it, and neither could I when I was younger and living on grad student pay. I got to drive to conferences, and when I got a job, did get to see California and Boston for conferences. Most of my travel to this day has been for conferences, mostly work related, so light on sightseeing.

However. I lucked out travel-wise by marrying a European person, though, so in the 14 years we were married I got to see Ireland, England, and the furthest place I’ve ever been, Switzerland.

So here’s a story about the first time I went to Switzerland, a place I’ve never seen without jet lag (I’ve spent 3 days there, total).

The children’s dad had a work thing in Zurich, so we got the idea to all go so we could save one fare. I was to tote the children, ages one and 3 or a little less to Ireland, where he’d join us for a visit with the kids’ grandparents.

We arrived after the very long flight with small children and fell asleep the minute we found the hotel. We woke up in Switzerland morning, which was really early to the kids, but we had an idea to entertain them.

My older son was fascinated with trains at the time, like obsessed. So we went to the train station. So many “frains” as he called them. We took a delightful short ride and came back. The younger son woke up in time to see the giant Toblerone display in the station, so we had to get chocolate.

I still remember the look on my older son’s face when he saw all those real live trains. It was pure wonder. He’d just say “frain” over and over like he was in paradise.

That’s all I remember of Switzerland other than being at the airport trying to fly alone with two little ones. Declan fell asleep in the customs line, where I had to drag the luggage and the kids. He wouldn’t wake up due to the jet lag, and I couldn’t lift him. But people were kind to us, and we ended up having a nice flight thanks to helpful airline staff. Irish people love children so much.

The other time I went to Switzerland was the only time I ever got Lee to fly with me anywhere. We landed in Basel and went directly to a boat. I didn’t see much!

I do want to say that though I am sad to no longer hear from the older child, I will always treasure the memories of him when he was small. He was very smart and hilarious. He talked at 9 month (said “moon” and pointed to it). He spoke long sentences way too early, which confused people, because he could be hard to understand with the interesting consonant combinations he came up with.

Our conversations, walks, playground time, and endless playing with Thomas the Tank Engine wooden railroads were among some of the best times of my life. I’ve also traveled very far from that safe, happy home.

Why Do I Blog?

Why do you blog?

Oh good, today’s blog prompt is at least easier than yesterday’s, though I can’t complain. My interview with Anita yesterday went over very well and started interesting conversations and apparently even gave some of her old friends new information. That was fun!

Now, today I’m supposed to tell you why I blog. The thing about this is that there are so many reasons that I may end up blathering away. I really enjoy blogging, though; perhaps that’s the main reason! I like writing, especially on topics that aren’t all serious like my work stuff.

Another reason I blog is that it creates a kind of community. I’ve enjoyed reading blogs since blogs were invented, and the insights into other people’s lives I’ve gotten have expanded my knowledge about different cultures and ways of thinking. I’ve found that interacting with folks in the comments is a way to make new friends. The feedback really is a lot of fun for me.

Blogging is also a way to keep in touch with far-flung friends and family. In the last century, people wrote letters to keep up with those they care about. I was also a big letter writer when I was in my teens and twenties, which I didn’t realize until I found a huge box of letters I’d received that were obviously in response to letters I’d written. I also emailed a lot when that came around, but I no longer have time to write long emails to everyone I want to talk to. So it’s a one-way blog blast (and I just hope those folks comment on my Facebook posts of the blog to keep the communication more two way.

In other posts I’ve made on this topic (which I am too lazy to look up, but I remember writing) I’ve talked about how blogging can also be a way of talking to myself, but also sharing it so I can get feedback. I used to journal but when there was no potential audience, I got maudlin and to be honest, I think I lied to myself. For some reason, I’m more “truthful” if I think there may be someone around to call me on any self-indulgent or overly dramatic crap I spew forth. There, a somewhat shameful admission from me.

More mundane reasons I blog are so I’ll be able to check out my pictures and memories of my travels, my work with the horses, and the things we do around the ranch (which can be challenging sometimes, because sometimes I’m not sure if it’s okay for me to share what other people here do).

I can share my old but happy Hoya plant.

It’s great fun to take photos to go with blog posts, too. I’m glad that some of my friends also enjoy them. Someday I hope phone photos look forward to a time when phone photos look a bit more like photos from a good camera. However, it will still be me taking the pictures, so you get what you get.

A tiny ray of cheer. Something is still blooming.

Thanks for reading, everyone. And yes, Mary, I do think there are more than five readers. But I’d love to hear from more of you, so feel free to comment, if you can.

How do you like my Moonlight Swim nails?

Meet My Friend Anita!

Interview someone — a friend, another blogger, your mother, the mailman — and write a post based on their responses.

Hmm, already I am wondering if it was a good idea to do this project where I answer the daily prompt for the month of September. I was stumped about who I could interview that wouldn’t take forever and would be somewhat interesting.

Then I realized I have lots of friends who are good writers, and that actually, everyone is interesting; So, I narrowed the list of possibilities down to who I figured could type fast and was bribable. Okay! So, I promised to pay to take Anita to the Barbie movie if she’d introduce herself to all five of you who read this blog!

And if you want to answer these same questions, you can be a blog post, too. It’s like the blog will practically write itself.

All About Anita

(In her own words)

Where were you born? Did you stay there long?

Stoneham, Massachusetts. We left after 6 months because my dad’s mother died and he wanted to go back to Delaware. And probably also because I crawled out the front door of the house and into the front yard without anyone noticing for a good while. I distinctly remember doing this. The first, but certainly not the last, time I tried to run away from home.

Where were your ancestors from?

Scotland, England, Ireland. I am as White as White can be.

Any siblings?

I had an older brother who died in 2007 of brain cancer. On Mother’s Day. But before that, he spent a lot of time tickling me, holding me up to the ceiling, or hanging me over the toilet and threatening to flush me down, all of which I thought was great. He was a very cool guy with a dry sense of humor and great taste in music.

Share three good or funny memories of high school

Uhhhh, hmmm, hanging out with you in your bedroom, playing records and talking and writing; skipping class to go to the beach in Boca Raton; cutting up confetti and bringing a giant black sign with the middle finger painted on it in white to high school football games (of course, I got in some trouble for that; The Man also didn’t like the confetti much. Huh.).

Share the three things you liked least about high school.

9th grade English: My life was threatened a number of times by a classmate, and also the teacher was incredibly incompetent. A certain “friend” who thought she owned me. The snobbishness and rudeness of some of the more well-off kids toward those of us who were considered weirdos or were living in poverty.

Where did you go to college? What was your major?

East coast South Florida. My initial major was journalism, but the program at my upper-level school was garbage (and my time working at a major newspaper kinda ruined it too), so I switched to Film, which I loved and still love to this day.

What kinds of jobs have you had as an adult?

Somewhat boringly and consistently, I have been an editor in the hard sciences all of my career. I’ve also rehabbed some houses, one in keeping with local and national standards of historic preservation (it was a 200+-year-old house).

What’s your favorite kind of food?

I love Mediterranean cuisines. And Indian food. And sushi. And a good brownie hot fudge sundae.

Tell us some of your collections.

Oh my. Pez, CDs, old movie DVDs. Pueblo pottery, southwestern/turquoise jewelry, books about strange/controversial subjects, cacti, rocks/minerals, glass balls, magnets. diner memorabilia, oddball Xmas decorations, objects from Baltimore. I think that’s it, but I’ll probably think of more later.

What’s your spiritual path? Your philosophy?

I believe there is a creative force or energy in the universe not named God or Jesus or Allah or whatever. It is not an old bearded White dude, sitting on a throne, telling me I have to be good or I’ll go to hell and suffer for all eternity. I believe the world would be a better place if we could be our true selves, without all the worries, pain, and suffering society puts on us. I want to live in harmony with nature; I don’t always succeed, but I try. I will hug a tree, dammit.

Do you believe in true love?

I did once, but “life” had other plans for me. And that is heartbreaking to me at times.

Which of your past pets is or was the weirdest?

Wow, they have all been super-weird in some way. Fiesta, a cat I had with my ex-husband, was a complete lunatic, but adorable. Pickle, my current dog, has many, let’s call them, quirks.

Introvert or extravert?

I would say both, depending on the situation and my state of mind. I am not a natural at parties/gatherings where I don’t know the people. I can be rather shy. But if I know you and I like you, I’m pretty much all in. I’m a strong believer in telling people you love them. You just never know when your last day together will be and you don’t want to miss the chance.

Favorite color?

Green green green all the day long. And then orange and yellow.

Thanks so much! I love you too, my long-time friend.

Sitting and Knitting

Today, I was casting my mind back to times when I felt safe and secure. I don’t feel that way much of the time these days. Too much animosity and too much that baffles me.

The one time I truly felt safe and free to be me came between middle school and high school, when my parents sent sad, mopey Suna to spend two weeks with the people who lived across the street from us in Gainesville. I had a borrowed bike and no agenda while Lila and Ralph were at work. I read, I walked, I cycled through town trying to memorize every old house and tiny lane. I pined after the boy I’d liked before I had to move away.

No one picked on me, no one put pressure on me to be more feminine, no one tried to guilt me into doing things I didn’t want to. My anxiety (which I didn’t know was anxiety at the time) went way down.

Every night after dinner, we sat in their little living room with their two Basenjis. Ralph read and Lila and I knitted (I may have crocheted). I remember feeling so peaceful with this happy older couple enjoying each other’s company. At that time, the idea came to me that my happy times might be like that.

As I’ve looked and looked for peace and safety, I have always felt safest in my home with my partner, occupying my hands with a craft. This evening, for example, I felt a wave of calm and contentment as I watched yet another square of my blanket complete. I’m continuing Lila’s tradition of just sitting and knitting in peace and safety. (Even if it’s fleeting)

Plus, I had a sweet glimmer today, as I floated in the pool after horse time. I felt something in my arm, opened my eyes, and came face to face with another of our ubiquitous damselflies. They love the pool. This one was so pale as to appear ghostly gray. She ended up on my watch, and as the wind blew us around, she came between me and the afternoon sun. Her little wings just glowed. That was a glimmer.

I looked at her. She looked at me. Photo by MacroGrant.

I was disappointed in the moon tonight, since the full, blue super moon’s rise was behind a bank of clouds. Around 9 pm we went back out to enjoy its intense glow. None of the photos came out well, but my mind captured it!

As a bonus, I saw this year’s resident Gulf Coast Toad on the front porch as I headed inside. At first she was flattened so much that she looked like cow poop. She sat up, and from that perspective she was shaped like an ostrich egg. I guess she’s found plenty to eat during the drought. I’m glad for the big gal!

Myrtle Beach versus Cameron

I promised someone that I’d write a more cheerful blog post today, and since I’ve been having such a nice day today, that won’t be hard. I’ve been mulling over how to share some of my observations about this part of the world versus where I live, and I think I’ve got a plan now. Let’s go, as I’d say in a training video.

What’s the Same in MB and Cameron

This is the easiest comparison. The main best thing about both Myrtle Beach, South Carolina and Cameron, Texas, is that all you have to do is sit around and you’ll meet someone interesting. I’ve made great friends in Cameron by just going to a restaurant, bar, or meeting and chatting with whoever is next to em, and that’s certainly the same at Myrtle Beach. Here at this condo place, you know you have something in common with everyone there, because you all either own or are considering owning a week or two of timeshare, that great business investment (ha ha). Networking skills are useful here and in Cameron for sure.

Just this visit, I’ve met Steve, Bill, and their families, who were so welcoming and hilarious. Plus I’ve chatted with fun people in activities, as I’ve shared, and all I need to do is sit at the bar and nice folks will show up. It’s really fun to have people come up and tell you they enjoyed talking to you the day before, or even better, you find someone you have all sorts of weird things in common with and want to be FFFs forever. That was my afternoon today and the lovely woman I met.

Same picture from yesterday, of a Ferris wheel

Also both places are diverse in many ways. I love how many shades of skin tone and different languages I hear in both places. There are indeed things that are improving in much of the US.

What’s Different in Myrtle and Cameron

And now for my observations about what’s different.

The birds are very different. We have lots more birds in Cameron this time of year than in Myrtle. I’ve seen very few shore birds, just mainly my buddies the fish crows, nighthawks, ospreys, and pelicans. Well, of course there are pigeons and seagulls, but I expected more. No egrets.
Vape shops are the new pancake houses. Last year we were counting pancake restaurants, because there were so many, but this year I was amazed at how many vape/smoking/dispensary places there are. If you need a hookah fix, you’re covered in Myrtle. I guess they must have passed some law that encouraged all these businesses , which have expanded greatly in the past year. (See maps at end of blog.)
Candy shops exist. Wow, there are so many candy shops here. There’s a lot of ice cream, too. I mean, Cameron has places to get ice cream and año cones, but wow, you don’t have to go far for a sugar fix at Myrtle.
There aren’t as many dogs. I don’t see anywhere near as many dogs in Myrtle as I do in Cameron, or even in Hilton Head. Of course, there aren’t any beach dogs here. There aren’t any in Hilton Head this time of year. And no dogs run free in the parts of Myrtle where I’ve been.
Rain happens. It keeps raining here! What’s up with that? Still no rain since June at our house, though some folks I know have seen a shower or two.
There are very different noises. In Cameron you hear the train from most of the town, and from the ranch you hear a lot of loud pickup trucks and gunfire. In Myrtle it’s endless helicopters full of tourists, They pass by at least every minute or so during the day unless it’s storming. You also get sirens when there are beach issues, whistles from lifeguards (especially when a storm is coming), and the fireworks that some tourist place sets off every night. Every night. I’m glad the dogs aren’t here.
There are way more Ferris wheels in Myrtle. Way.
The weather reports are very different. In Cameron you see what counties are under various degrees of drought and where the current wildfires are. In Myrtle, you get the tide reports and fishing outlook. I know the name of certain buoys in the ocean now.

Last night’s storm caused much lifeguard whistling. I saw water spouts.

Yes, now that I’ve gotten a better frame of mind, I’m enjoying my time alone. I’ve enjoyed many movies and a weird television show about Australian flowers. Every day I’ve been going to the gym and making sure I walk really fast for at least two miles. I want to be sure I’m still in good aerobic shape when I get home to the horses. That does involve a lot of sweating, which is how I ended up at the beach bar chatting with various vacationers. I wanted to dry off and have a cold beverage!

This is from last night. Sarah is tired.

And of course I’m knitting, I’ll share my latest progress, which adds many more hot days to the temperature blanket. I ended the previous row on July 13, and we already had two days over 105°. It’s the saddest part of the blanket!

And I’m reading a lot in the book about Florida history I was given. I’ll tell you what, I’m no longer “proud” to be descended from early Florida residents, even though I realize some of them were forced to come there. Those conquistadors were pretty nasty folks.

Thanks for showing up, kind readers. You’re all appreciated.