Bed & Breakfast

BED:

BREAKFAST:

AND THE PARLOR:

of Park Avenue Manor, my and Chris' uncle's spectacular Bed & Breakfast Inn in Savannah, Georgia. If you are ever vacationing in Savannah (which I highly recommend), stay with Glenn and Maurice.

When we weren't lounging in the parlor or eating at awesome restaurants with Glenn and Mo, Chris and I were hiking through Savannah's many green squares (where Chris did not join me in sniffing the young flowers), wondering through creative shops, and admiring varied architecture.

Savannah is all old bricks and moss, iron and cobble stones. My favorite spot in the city may be half way up a steep iron staircase from River Street where I can run my hand along an old brick wall, soft with green moss and fern sprouts, and where the path below is unevenly paved with the ballast stones from the bellies of merchant ships and the emerging park above drips with Spanish Moss afore 19th century Italianate buildings and palm trees.

I have written of Savannah before: http://heatherpaiges.blogspot.com/search?q=savannah

Historic Charleston

Yesterday, I toured 18th and 19th century mansions in downtown Charleston. Then today, I toured Middleton Place, an 18th century rice plantation.


The gardens are extensive and the farm is still working. I followed two peacocks to the farm grounds where I saw oxen, goats, woolly sheep, guinea hens, ducks, chickens, Belgium horses and cows. The stables were beautiful and in the adjacent buildings were the workshops of a potter, a blacksmith, a cooper and a weaver. I loved it! And it made me even more glad I work at a historic village.

Boarding Officer School

I'm glad Chris enjoys BO school because it takes up a lot of his time.  He's at class from 6AM to 5PM everyday then he comes home to do homework assignments and study for exams.  I spend most of my time on my own writing, exploring and volunteering online with the Not For Sale Campaign:  www.notforsalecampaign.org/.  I'm very glad I came even if my husband is busier than he is when we are at home.

Low Country Oyster Fest 2011

  Yesterday, we joined the masses at the World's Biggest Oyster Roast on 350-year-old Boone Hall Plantation near Charleston.  The oysters were steamed then passes out in 5 lb buckets to over 13,000 people.  At three persons per bucket and 25 oysters per bucket, that averages 8 oysters per person bringing the total to 108,000 oysters.  Each oyster was shucked into two pieces, so when the event ended, the grounds were littered with 216,000 oyster shell shards.  I hope they grind them up to make park benches. 

After shucking our fill of oysters, Chris and I took advantage of the opportunity to explore the grounds of the plantation.  We walked the gardens of the Greek Revival-style mansion that stands imperially at the end of the famous oak-lined entrance; we looked inside the rows of slave quarters that now serve as a museum about slave life; and we wandered down to the old dock on the grassy waterway from which the planter would transport his goods to the Charleston market.  Then we went home with bellies too full for a whole dinner.

The beach by the lighthouse

I'm standing in the sand between Charleston Harbor and miles of yellow grass growing in shallow water that sparkles in the afternoon sun. The sea is calm at its edge, but 50 yards out between my island and the peninsula, it fights, swirls and sputters dangerously.

Nearby stands a long dead forest, sun-bleached and half-buried in the sand. The sand blown trees are now smooth enough to shine and incapable of giving a splinter. When I walk among them, I feel like I have stepped into a Salvador Dali painting.

On my drive to Folly Beach, I passed a dock covered in pelicans! I have never seen so many pelicans at once before.

Chris, I think we took the long way from Indiana to Charleston

I woke Tues morning with no inclination that I would wake the next morning halfway through a road trip to Charleston, South Carolina. Only two mornings previous, I woke in a small Indiana town: Thurs/Fri- 13 hrs from NYC to IN + Sun- 13 hrs IN to NYC + Tues/Wed- 12 hrs NYC to SC= 38 hrs of driving in 1 week. Whew! We thought the drive would be a cinch, since we drove from Maine to Florida last year for military reasons. Nope. 12 hrs is not as bad as 20 hrs, but we are exhausted.
As for Charleston, it's enchanting!!

I collected 20 brochures of historic homes, plantations, museums, beaches, and markets to visit in all the free time I'll have while Chris is in class.

Yesterday I was scraping snow off my car and today I walked through downtown Charleston with my jean legs rolled up.

A field and a beach

I will miss the field of unadulterated snow, not yet pierced by size 7 1/2 compressions. Three days from now, as if the first compressions were detectable landmines to be avoided, compressions will freckle the now perfect slope. People are like me- they want to feel the snow crunch beneath their boots. I just want to be the first one to do it. I take one more savoring stare at it then sense a pedestrian behind me. I have to be first. Here I go. Crunch crunch. In some places the snow is deeper than my boots are tall. I feel a little childish for smiling like this.
_________________

All around me sound is muffled. I lift an ear flap to see if the silence is just in my hat, but it isn't. Across the sea, the Brooklyn shore looks like it has been wiped with gray water color paint- my vision too is muffled by the swirling snow. Crystals hit the water near my boots and float for a moment before they become water too. The waves have stolen much of the white from the beach, but between here and the boardwalk, only a trail of size 7 1/2 holes uncover the sand.

My new meal planning/ pantry stock tracking/ coupon organizing binder:

Good Morning

Either this robe is warmer than I thought it was or my interest in watching snow trumps my cold sensors. I am sitting in our front porch chair with two of my favorite things: my journal and coffee. Watching through the densely falling clumps is like watching a movie through a fuzzy television screen. Dozens of red berries still hang on a stout sprawling tree in our front yard. Snow stacks on branches and berries alike making it into a lovely post-Christmas decoration. Across the street from our little house is a wooded ravine. In the summer time, the green is too thick to see the houses on the other side, but today the white is too thick to see much more than a window.

Wedding Vows

I have moved. View the new post on the new website at http://www.heatherpaiges.com/wedding-vows/ 

Chris and I hand-wrote our wedding vows to hang over our nightstands (I love his manly script). It is so good to have these promises posted as a daily reminder to love one another well.

We chose Ruth 1:16 to be read at our wedding, "Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay." because we knew Chris' service in the Coast Guard would send us bouncing from one coastal town to another. So he and I would be one another's only constant relationship through the years. In each new home, we would hang our vows. I loved them in our first Mainer colonial rental and I love them in our new little NYC/NJ apartment. With no further ado, the vows:

Vows written by Pastor Butch of Living Hope Church in College Station, TX.





Chris and I wrote up our wedding vows then I framed them with these collages. We are going to hang his vows to me over my night stand and mine to him over his night stand. :)

Sketches and Crafts

"Your identity determines your activity, your activity does not determine your identity."

My identity should be in Christ and not in myself and definitely not in what I do. Well that is an incredible relief actually. I dont have to strive for that myself. And if I do choose to put that burden on myself anyway, then I am not showing Christ to those around me the way that I should.
I do not want to give in to the lie that focusing on myself will make me happier or that I should compete with other women to win the title of "beautiful" or that I must strive to maintain some "adequate" level of self confidence for the rest of my life. And I do not want to become a middle aged women who has overdone hair and makeup, is still upset about looking old and is overly concerned with trying to be some sexy trophy wife thing.
I want to be a peaceful spirited women filled with the Lord's contentment and joy and peace and pouring that into other people, centered in God' s grace and truly seeing myself as that beautiful woman that God made me, not worried about my external appearance or how "exciting" i am coming off as, or whether or not my husband thinks I am prettier than the chick passing us on the sidewalk. I am praying about this- i am far from attaining it.

"The opposite of sin is grace, not virtue." -Philip Yancey

Marmie from Little Women

"I want my daughters to be beautiful, accomplished, and good; to be admired, loved, and respected; to have a happy youth, to be well and wisely married, and to lead useful, pleasant lives, with as little care and sorrow as God sees fit to send. To be loved and chosen by a good man is the best and sweetest thing which can happen to a woman, and I sincerely hope my girls may know this beautiful experience. It is natural to think of it, right to hope and wait for it, and wise to prepare for it, so that when the happy time comes, you may feel ready for the duties and worthy of the joy.
... not that they would marry rich men merely because they are rich, or have splendid houses which are not homes because love is wanting. Money is a needful and precious thing- and, when well-used, a noble thing- but I never want you to think it is the first prize to strive for. I'd rather see you poor men's wives, if you were happy, beloved, contented, then queens on thrones, without self-respect or peace."

I am reminded of myself

"I was born with an enormous need for an affection and a terrible need to give." -Audrey Hepburn

"I don't need a bedroom to prove my womanliness. I can convey just as much appeal fully clothed, picking apples off a tree or standing in the rain." -Audrey

If I were a person that photographers wanted to take pictures of, I would want it to be not because I exhibit stereotypical appeal, but because I exude joy.

Letter to Liz Gilson

"...We are doing good- drenched in Christmas spirit. Yes, we still LOVE our church oh my oh my we love it so much. These people are so genuinely loving and giving and Christ-seeking. God is good. I have been reading up on social justice lately- As in I'm reading like 4 books at once: "Everyday Justice: The Global Impact of Our Daily Choices" by Julie Clawson, "Investing for Change:Profit From Responsible Investment" by Landier and Nair, "Fields of the Fatherless" (concerning caring for orphans) by Tom Davis, "The Wounded Heart: Hope for Adult Victims of Childhood Sexual Abuse" by Allender, and Isaiah, plus I'm keeping up with campaigns like Love146 and NotForSale and Joyful Heart Foundation and RAINN and Equal Exchange.com. I feel like I am in an intense and pivotal point in my life-journey and I am excited about it. I just hope that it doesnt fizzle out like lots of my spiritual spurts have in the past. God has placed in me a desire to love people- especially the broken and the oppressed. I just have to figure out how to do it and pray that the motivation doesn't wear off due to delayed action and that my new found humility doesn't get trampled by a new (and stupid) kind of pride."


READ THE POST BELOW TOO. I WROTE THESE TWO AT THE SAME TIME.

Why would a company become more environmentally friendly or humanitarian?

Gallup polls revealed that 65% of Americans would like to see major corporations having less influence and only 18% of Americans have confidence in big business. I agree with the majority here- I do not trust many big corporations, which are too often driven by money-hunger, but I like them better than big government. I like how Julie Clawson, author of Everyday Justice, put it, "I don't oppose capitalism or necessarily think any other system would work better, but I find myself disturbed by economics without ethics."
One may deduce from the above statistics that Americans might demand more gov control over corporations, but that is not the case. Rather, as explained in the book, Investing for Change, the majority does not believe that "the government should further regulate business or industry" thus showing that "ppl don't view gov intervention as the way to make large companies more responsible." I am glad for this too. It is up to the consumer/investor to harness the power of demand to influence companies rather than depend on further government regulation. Government regulation has often merely driven companies to other nations where sweatshops are legal and environmental codes are laxer, thus worsening the problems and removing the woes from consumers' eyes. By the consumer-driven change method, competitive businesses will be more inclined to adopt a more socially responsible approach whether they are based in America or elsewhere. We consumers just need to inform ourselves and put our purchasing power to work.

Useful resources for informing yourself: Everyday Justice by Julie Clawson, Not For Sale by David Batstone, Investing for Change by Landier and Nair, http://www.equalexchange.coop/ , http://free2work.org/home , http://notforsale895.corecommerce.com/cart.html

good songs: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nsSUr7ChMPI&feature=player_embedded#! , http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9Yasgzjc0w , http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5AkNqLuVgY

my fortune cookie says, "Happiness is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it." I like what Greg Matte said better, "Joy is not the absence of crisis, but the presence of Christ."

The grocery store found my journal.

It is officially winter now, but here is a journal entry from the once lost but now found fall journal. November 19:
I like rakes less than leaf littered lawns. Right now, my back yard is smothered in orange and the historic village in yellow. I often stare from the store porch and smile.
I like sunny days when the translucent yellow leaves glow overhead and turn the forests into light sources.
I like windy days when gusts send leaves stampeding down our village streets passed trees redder than stoplights. And when bigger gust wrench stragglers from their branches and create leaf blizzards!
Most of all, I like sunny windy days when an occasional gust scoops leaves up into a glowing yellow torrent, swirling them about in a 10ft tornado. I stopped to watch one today. When I crossed an old village street, the wind first tried to pick up my gown then launched 100s of unraked leaves into the air and danced with them. I watched then twirled too on my way to my station.

The expiration date on my milk carton

Back when Chris went to sea (thank the Lord that is over), I would get excited about his homecoming when my milk's expiration date was after his return date. Now, the expiration date on my milk reads Dec. 02, so I am getting excited about Christmas!

On that note, may I say that I am so pleased by the perfect placement of Christmas in our seasons. Just as the last lovely leaf falls and the seemingly unending gray sets in, the joy-bringing anticipation of Christmas comes to the rescue and distracts our spirits from the temptation to be dreary.

Time Warp

I don't know if I have ever been quite so aware of time as I was yesterday, when we were leaving Boston. On 93 South, we came to the intersection: S to Providence, RI or N to Portsmouth, NH. A year ago, we would have turned N and it would not have occurred to me that I may someday do otherwise. But yesterday, when I watched the roads diverge as Chris veered right and the Portsmouth sign fell left, my brain spun into a time warp. The initial feeling was short of doleful, edging on longing, and closest to a deep yet simple awareness of time. Memories fired in my mind in quick succession then, as the familiar sign fell out of site, I blasted forward into curiousity, semi-nervousness and anticipation about the future. Which way will I turn 3 yrs from now, when we move again if we move again? Which way will I turn to go home from Nashville? Which way from Denver? Which way from New York?
Yesterday, we went to New York. Today, I am in New York. I am not worried.

Actionpacked 4 days

Thursday: Bell ringing at New York Stock Exchange. We met Navajo Wind Talkers and I got to walk around the floor while Chris joined the men on the bell platform. Later, we marched in the Veterans Day Parade down 5th Avenue. I was asked thrice if I was a reporter while I took notes in my cute peacoat. ha. After that, we went out for dinner and free drinks with a lot of uniformed men.

Friday: Turned 400 kids through the historic village. Whew! Then Chris and I went to a military gala, so I was excited about wearing a long pretty gown, getting my hair done, and standing next to handsome him in formal uniform. Chris gave a toast to New York City and did a really good job. Afterward, we changed into our pajamas in the car and downed some caffeine before driving directly from the gala to Boston, Mass. for the rugby match. Arrival time 2:45am.

Saturday: Chris played in Rugby match in Boston...lost :(. Ate dinner in Little Italy YUM! then went for famous cannolis and cappuccinos with a Bostonian friend. Spent the night in his 10-story warehouse-turned-apt. building. Nice view.

Sunday: Freshfruit and creme on Belgian waffles with a side of sunnyside ups and coffee! After the huge brkfst, we walked to Bunker Hill and toured the USS Constitution (Old Ironsides). Of course, we drove up and down Beacon Hill (my favorite place in America after Gruene Hall, TX) and scoped out Boston Common in its divine fall colorfulness. On the way home, we called up some friends in Connecticut and invited ourselves to eat dinner with them and meet their kittens, then surprised the Masalins (a family we love) before finishing our trip back to New York City. Home at 11:00pm.

How do I describe Boston? Were Boston a spoken sentence, it would be well articulated. Were it a written one, it would be in cursive.

A reason I like my job.

English Breakfast Tea in hand, I walk from the parlor of our 1890s house staff building, where my sewing colleagues sing English folk ballads in harmony, to the landing, where The Duke of Kent's Waltz (1830) streams from the blacksmith's office, then duck under a clothesline web on my way to the sewing room from which I fetch a handful of vintage buttons and return to my task of mending an 1860s gown.

Cider Donuts

Our history buff and battle reenacting friends, Annie and Jay took us to the Monmouth Battlefield in New Jersey where Washington and Howe clashed and stalemated in June 1778. "This hill is perfect for sledding," Jay told us at the top of the highest, steepest one from which you could see every other. Long shadows of leafless trees reached like skeleton hands over the convex ground hinting that the sledding season was soon to come. Our group hiked under their shadows and over the rolling hills of the battlefield where orchards and cornfields still grow beside 18th century houses. Jay stopped us periodically to enlighten us on facts of the battle: "Here, Washington discharged the obstinate Lee," "There, Molly Pitcher worked her famous cannon," "Down that hill galloped the British grenadiers- oh and Chris, your intimidatingly tall self would have been a brigadier."
After wondering the battlefield for an hour or so, we delighted in the marvel of cider donuts and well, cider from Battlefield Orchard before our Ruby Tuesday dinner and subsequent journey home.

Home=sleep. Chris and I were sleepy ppl- That morning, Chris worked the New York Marathon (morning=4am) while I helped with the hope-fillingly great orphan program launch at our church. Whew- what a day.

6:55AM. I went hiking in pajama pants and dress shoes.

I accidentally found a lakeside hiking trail when I got lost on my way home from our friend's apt, where Chris and I crashed after attending a military event aboard the Intrepid in Manhattan. (hence the dress shoes... and the pajamas).
Despite the weird looks some joggers gave me, I really enjoyed my hike! I walked across a stone bridge then alongside a still lake that reflected two tree covered hills. AKA the water was yellow and orange! One particular family of yell low trees looked like they had all caught a contagious cold and sneezed leaves everywhere. Yellow covered the path, the water and the rocks in between. I love autumn and I am lamenting its pending ending.

Oh and the Intrepid- that was quite interesting and fun. The staff turned the information desk into a bar and played Academy football footage on the wall while lieutenants and generals in service dress socialized on the deck of the famous aircraft carrier.

Wouldn't it be terrible to work at a landfill? It is so much better to just pretend they're not there.

. . . please sense my sarcasm. We need to live in a way that takes care of the earth. (I live on Staten Island- (New York City's garbage dump until 1997. The landfill here can be seen from outer space).

I made apple pie by myself for the first time last week. I have made two since and they are dang ugly but boy do they taste good. :) I have also spiced cider and toasted pumpkin seeds. Pumpkin bread cupcakes tomorrow!

This weekend at the historic village, we celebrated Old Home Day:

blacksmithing, tinsmithing, carpentry, basket making, rope making, weaving, quilting, butter churning, cider pressing, bread baking in a historic brick oven, apple butter making, stewing (beef, veg, pumpkin), Indian weaponry making, dulcimer playing, hay jumping, historic game playing, historic building touring...


On week days I give tours the farm to elementary field trippers. The kids pick pumpkins, ride a hay wagon, dig, carry a yoke and buckets, beat a rug, scrub on a washboard, tour a farm house, learn about 19th centry equipment, (and chase chickens :P).