Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Hurrcane Update..
We have just been updated to a Hurricane 2...winds to be 100 miles per hour and to have a direct hit on the island within the hour. Power and phone lines still intact...wind shrieking out our window..branches banging against the shop..cars all pulled to high ground..jugs of water await use. But we are fine. It is odd to think that the ferries are tied up, and we are all on our own. There is no emergency management team..just friends and neighbors to help each other.
So...here we are on a little tiny island in a hurricane..
Where do I begin to tell about the last 24 hours..so I will do it in headline fashion!!
PHILIP'S 60th BIRHDAY (YESTERDAY)
NEW BABY BOY BORN (PHILIP'S FOURTH GRANDCHILD) TO AMY AND DAVID !! ALL IS WELL AND ADORABLE!(YESTERDAY)
QUICK TRIP UP TO ELIZABETH CITY (FOUR HOURS UP AND FOUR HOURS BACK)TO SEE THE NEW FAMILY AND HOLD LITTLE LOCHLAN WESLEY TWEEDIE HOWARD (YESTERDAY)
HURRY HOME TO CATCH THE FEERY BEFORE THEY TIE THEM UP BEFORE IMPENDING HURRICANE (YESTERDAY)
PHILIP'S SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY CANCELED AND RE-SET THREE TIMES DUE TO STORM, BABY, STORM (YESTERDAY)
A quick run into the village this morning for conversation and bottled water..drove out to the beach, could not stand up in the wind and blowing sand. Everything closed on the island..campgrounds evacuated and tourists asked to leave. It is a hurricane 1, and it is my first. I will keep you updated as long as there is power...between times it will be games of gin rummy and cribbage an baking cookies and feeling the shudder of the wind and the pouring rain. But, all is well, and I could't be happier!! Check Philip's blog for more details and photos of the baby and the hurrcane: go to www.villagecraftsmen.com and then click onto the Ocracoke Journal.
PHILIP'S 60th BIRHDAY (YESTERDAY)
NEW BABY BOY BORN (PHILIP'S FOURTH GRANDCHILD) TO AMY AND DAVID !! ALL IS WELL AND ADORABLE!(YESTERDAY)
QUICK TRIP UP TO ELIZABETH CITY (FOUR HOURS UP AND FOUR HOURS BACK)TO SEE THE NEW FAMILY AND HOLD LITTLE LOCHLAN WESLEY TWEEDIE HOWARD (YESTERDAY)
HURRY HOME TO CATCH THE FEERY BEFORE THEY TIE THEM UP BEFORE IMPENDING HURRICANE (YESTERDAY)
PHILIP'S SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY CANCELED AND RE-SET THREE TIMES DUE TO STORM, BABY, STORM (YESTERDAY)
A quick run into the village this morning for conversation and bottled water..drove out to the beach, could not stand up in the wind and blowing sand. Everything closed on the island..campgrounds evacuated and tourists asked to leave. It is a hurricane 1, and it is my first. I will keep you updated as long as there is power...between times it will be games of gin rummy and cribbage an baking cookies and feeling the shudder of the wind and the pouring rain. But, all is well, and I could't be happier!! Check Philip's blog for more details and photos of the baby and the hurrcane: go to www.villagecraftsmen.com and then click onto the Ocracoke Journal.
Saturday, July 31, 2004
Stories at Dusk....
Friday nights here are slow-paced. Sometimes the men play poker..sometimes there are dinner engagements or bike rides...but there are no malls to visit, no movie theatres to view new films..no K-Mart or Wal-Mart to occupy time.
Last night after supper we walked the sandy road to Blanch's house...she is Philip's cousin and has lived here on the island all her life. She is 83. We carried a lasagne casserole (compliments of Philip's cooking)...opened the white gate of her garden and up to the front porch.
Blanch's house is typical of the island...it is painted white with lovely green trim and a large pizer. The scent of gardenias was strong as we knocked on the door carrying our offering.
Blanch was delighted to see us as she had been cleaning, and needed the break as well as the company. Two fans were circulating the air in the parlor room which was filled with family photos and books including the census of Ocracoke for 1870 and the cemetery
records.
She is always interested in what we are doing..but truth be told, we are much more interested in what she has to say. Her mind is sharp, her memory is impeccable..the hurricane of '44..the black out of WW11. Last night the conversation wove around to children's games. She was animated as she began to tell us about the games she played here as a little girl. Some were typical...hop scotch, marbles, skipping ropes...some we had never heard of. Philip, with paper and pencil in hand, wrote titles and words as fast as they were spoken.
It was dark when we left. The almost-full moon was playing games with us..hide and seek through the live oaks and cedar trees. Blanch stood at her doorway and waved, "Wasn't this fun tonight?" she said.
Indeed it was, Blanch, indeed it was.
Last night after supper we walked the sandy road to Blanch's house...she is Philip's cousin and has lived here on the island all her life. She is 83. We carried a lasagne casserole (compliments of Philip's cooking)...opened the white gate of her garden and up to the front porch.
Blanch's house is typical of the island...it is painted white with lovely green trim and a large pizer. The scent of gardenias was strong as we knocked on the door carrying our offering.
Blanch was delighted to see us as she had been cleaning, and needed the break as well as the company. Two fans were circulating the air in the parlor room which was filled with family photos and books including the census of Ocracoke for 1870 and the cemetery
records.
She is always interested in what we are doing..but truth be told, we are much more interested in what she has to say. Her mind is sharp, her memory is impeccable..the hurricane of '44..the black out of WW11. Last night the conversation wove around to children's games. She was animated as she began to tell us about the games she played here as a little girl. Some were typical...hop scotch, marbles, skipping ropes...some we had never heard of. Philip, with paper and pencil in hand, wrote titles and words as fast as they were spoken.
It was dark when we left. The almost-full moon was playing games with us..hide and seek through the live oaks and cedar trees. Blanch stood at her doorway and waved, "Wasn't this fun tonight?" she said.
Indeed it was, Blanch, indeed it was.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
The Show Goes On...
Every Wednesday evening the community of Ocracoke presents an old time Opry, the Ocrafolk Opry...this is a wonderful combination of music and stories...including haronica and madolin and guitar. The performers live and work on the island..running shops, waiting tables, saiing ships, caring for children. I first visited here three years ago and have not missed an Opry yet (well, almost!)
Last night Molasses Creek was off island...so there were a core group of folks in charge, Philip was the emcee (and storyteller)..and it was my great honor to tell a story during the second half of the show. I have told stories so many places for lots of years, but last night was so special for me. It was telling stories with new friends and family..there was five year old Caroline in her pirate garb singing with her Dad, there was 83 year old Roy with his harmonica and guitar and a bit of yodeling.
At the end of the evening all the performers go back up to the stage to sing, "I'll Fly Away." It was such a grand moment for me to stand with Philip and new friends and be part of the community. When the evening was over, there was pleasant conversation and bantering..the clouds were arranged as if in a quilt as we walked back home up the lane...Henry Glassie once wrote in the forward to his book, Irish Tales, it was a good night, a story or two, a song by the fire, enough so that when we meet in the morning we will remember....I will always remember last night.
Last night Molasses Creek was off island...so there were a core group of folks in charge, Philip was the emcee (and storyteller)..and it was my great honor to tell a story during the second half of the show. I have told stories so many places for lots of years, but last night was so special for me. It was telling stories with new friends and family..there was five year old Caroline in her pirate garb singing with her Dad, there was 83 year old Roy with his harmonica and guitar and a bit of yodeling.
At the end of the evening all the performers go back up to the stage to sing, "I'll Fly Away." It was such a grand moment for me to stand with Philip and new friends and be part of the community. When the evening was over, there was pleasant conversation and bantering..the clouds were arranged as if in a quilt as we walked back home up the lane...Henry Glassie once wrote in the forward to his book, Irish Tales, it was a good night, a story or two, a song by the fire, enough so that when we meet in the morning we will remember....I will always remember last night.
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Clams and Crabs..
So, it started out to be a lazy Sunday...sleeping late..breakfastlate...heavy clouds of rain. But just as the sun burst out, the phone rang..it was Rob iviting us to o clamming for the afternoon. I looked around an laundry and dishes and ironing and bills to be paid and a Sunday Passage to be written. Then I looked at Philip and we both said, "let's go."
Philip carried the clamming rakes (on his bicycle) while I brought the clam basket (also on my bicycle)..there were seven of us setting sail in the small sailboat, The Muddy Rudder.
We anchored on a bed of crabs and they skittered under our feet everywhere we walked on the sandy shores of the sound. We talked and clammed and swam and filled our basket. Now we just clean them and have clams casino tonight.
It has been a lovely day...we will share clams with friends, listen to Martin at the Jolly Roger, and ride our bikes home late tonight over the sandy roads with fresh scattered clam shells. As for the work, there is alway tomorrow.
Philip carried the clamming rakes (on his bicycle) while I brought the clam basket (also on my bicycle)..there were seven of us setting sail in the small sailboat, The Muddy Rudder.
We anchored on a bed of crabs and they skittered under our feet everywhere we walked on the sandy shores of the sound. We talked and clammed and swam and filled our basket. Now we just clean them and have clams casino tonight.
It has been a lovely day...we will share clams with friends, listen to Martin at the Jolly Roger, and ride our bikes home late tonight over the sandy roads with fresh scattered clam shells. As for the work, there is alway tomorrow.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Dripping Diamonds...
Soaking rains have canopied the island for two days. It was and is a much-welcomed rain as it has been dry for the past few months.
I have enjoyed watching out the window as folks huddle together under umbrellas making their way down Howard Street dodging puddles and low-lying limbs.
There is something so primitive about a cloudburst...folks rush into the shop laughing and talking about the rain...when did it start...when will it stop..good day for reading, shopping, napping.
As for me, I love the change from the hot, sunny days...I love to watch the drops fall from live oak trees and junipers and cedars and wild rosemary...like diamonds or crystals or prisms hung in windows. I love to hear it on the roof tops...I love to wipe off the seat of my bicycle with an old pair of socks I keep on the porch just for that purpose..I love coming inside to a cup of tea or fresh cookies or to someone I love.
I have enjoyed watching out the window as folks huddle together under umbrellas making their way down Howard Street dodging puddles and low-lying limbs.
There is something so primitive about a cloudburst...folks rush into the shop laughing and talking about the rain...when did it start...when will it stop..good day for reading, shopping, napping.
As for me, I love the change from the hot, sunny days...I love to watch the drops fall from live oak trees and junipers and cedars and wild rosemary...like diamonds or crystals or prisms hung in windows. I love to hear it on the roof tops...I love to wipe off the seat of my bicycle with an old pair of socks I keep on the porch just for that purpose..I love coming inside to a cup of tea or fresh cookies or to someone I love.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
My special day....
Dear Friends, (I usually don't just write to friends as a journal, but felt like it for the day),
Today is my birthday, and I must admit I really enjoy my birthday...even the sun seems to shine brighter. (However, I won't go as far to tell you how old I am....)
I was thinkng back over birthdays in the past...I remember the year I turned 16 and my parents invited my ex-boyfriend to have dinner and a show with us at the outdoor theatre (I could have died of embarrassment!!!)
Or after my first year of college I spent my birthday in Oberaudorf in Germany where I worked as a bar maid...lots of the guest wrapped up small tokens for my birthday...or the year at Indiana University studying world economics and spending the evening at the local pub in Bloomington..there were birthdays with my children with their homemade brownies...birthdays at the 4-H fair (usually the pie eating contest!!....there were birthdays alone (I am strong, I can do this!!)
This year's birthday I am with Philip, and he has made the day special...breakfast was met with an antique butter knife wrapped with tissue paper and decorated with small hearts on my plate..there were flowers from my sons, from Amy and David, from Philip....bulbs for my garden..homemade dishcloths and baskets....there were phone calls from my Mom and Dad, my sister, my friend, Ellen....birthdays are for celebrating, and I feel loved and cherished on this day...
So, here's to another year...a toast to sunsets and walks..to friendship and love. Lou Ann
Today is my birthday, and I must admit I really enjoy my birthday...even the sun seems to shine brighter. (However, I won't go as far to tell you how old I am....)
I was thinkng back over birthdays in the past...I remember the year I turned 16 and my parents invited my ex-boyfriend to have dinner and a show with us at the outdoor theatre (I could have died of embarrassment!!!)
Or after my first year of college I spent my birthday in Oberaudorf in Germany where I worked as a bar maid...lots of the guest wrapped up small tokens for my birthday...or the year at Indiana University studying world economics and spending the evening at the local pub in Bloomington..there were birthdays with my children with their homemade brownies...birthdays at the 4-H fair (usually the pie eating contest!!....there were birthdays alone (I am strong, I can do this!!)
This year's birthday I am with Philip, and he has made the day special...breakfast was met with an antique butter knife wrapped with tissue paper and decorated with small hearts on my plate..there were flowers from my sons, from Amy and David, from Philip....bulbs for my garden..homemade dishcloths and baskets....there were phone calls from my Mom and Dad, my sister, my friend, Ellen....birthdays are for celebrating, and I feel loved and cherished on this day...
So, here's to another year...a toast to sunsets and walks..to friendship and love. Lou Ann
Monday, July 19, 2004
Roses, poems, and silver spoons...
July is rainbow waves of heat....summer lightning...cool white sheets fresh from the clothesline...lazy days with no school...and the month of my birthday. I share this birthday with my Grandma Rhoads who taught me how to plant green beans and grow African violets...how to make potato salad and oatmeal cake...how to stitich on a button and hem a skirt..I miss her.
Birthays on the island are colorful affairs. Last night was the community pot luck for those of us born in July. I feel honored to share my ruby gemstone with Sundae, Karen, and Marcie....all very strong women I am getting to know. Sundae made us crowns of roses and ribbons that we wore all evening...everyone knew we were the birthday girls. Other small gifts were presented during the evening...silver spoons, poetry....but it isn't about gifts...it is about friendship and community.
The food was wonderful from Philip's deviled eggs to island fig cake and everything in between. There were friends and relatives in every room conversing on every subject
I have decided to wear my lovely crown all week...and shouldn't we all own a silver spoon???
Birthays on the island are colorful affairs. Last night was the community pot luck for those of us born in July. I feel honored to share my ruby gemstone with Sundae, Karen, and Marcie....all very strong women I am getting to know. Sundae made us crowns of roses and ribbons that we wore all evening...everyone knew we were the birthday girls. Other small gifts were presented during the evening...silver spoons, poetry....but it isn't about gifts...it is about friendship and community.
The food was wonderful from Philip's deviled eggs to island fig cake and everything in between. There were friends and relatives in every room conversing on every subject
I have decided to wear my lovely crown all week...and shouldn't we all own a silver spoon???
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Sunday ....
Ahhh, today is Sunday...we had a hearty rain and thunderstorm in the night. I had to wipe off the seat of my bicycle before riding into the village for early morning groceries.
It is lovely here on Sunday morning. The sound of the church bells welcome the walking parisheners.
Most of the cottages change hands on Sunday so tourists are packing up wet bathing suits, T-shirts with Ocracoke emblazened on the front, seashells, sandals full of sand and memories...I see them lazily drive down Howard Street one more time as they sadly strap the watch on their wrist and turn on the radio to see what news they have missed.
The new folks are arriving with fresh, new bathing suits and a clean car (it won't last long!!) They are just turning off the radio and unstrapping their watches...their 20 dollar bills are still crisp from the ATM and the family togetherness has begun.
As for me, I'm not coming or going...I just am..and I really like that. I
It is lovely here on Sunday morning. The sound of the church bells welcome the walking parisheners.
Most of the cottages change hands on Sunday so tourists are packing up wet bathing suits, T-shirts with Ocracoke emblazened on the front, seashells, sandals full of sand and memories...I see them lazily drive down Howard Street one more time as they sadly strap the watch on their wrist and turn on the radio to see what news they have missed.
The new folks are arriving with fresh, new bathing suits and a clean car (it won't last long!!) They are just turning off the radio and unstrapping their watches...their 20 dollar bills are still crisp from the ATM and the family togetherness has begun.
As for me, I'm not coming or going...I just am..and I really like that. I
Saturday, July 17, 2004
Sails and Sunsets
Until last night I had never attended a wedding on a sailboat or attended one barefooted..but for one evening the Emily Post rules of etiquette and the wedding planners were dashed.
Joy, a wonderful friend of Philip, and her fiance, Joseph, chose the island for their wedding. Over the course of the week, family members flew and drove and ferried over (it is a lot of work to get here!!)...til all were gathered on the dock last evening. We all spilled upon the Windfall leaving shoes behind...A cooler of champagne was carried onto the boat. The bride carried a bouquet of local flowers picked on the side of the road and off dusty paths. Captain Rob and his first mate, Frank, hoisted sails as the wind carried us out into Pamlico Sound. When deep out into the water, the ceremony took place...six little nieces from four to fifteen read poetry of Emily Dickinson and Elizabeth Barret Browning and from the Velveteen Rabbit...The sun set as a crystal scarlet globe as we toasted the couple and sailed the Sound. The girls sang...it was peaceful...it was romantic...
A reception of homemade cake and visiting and stories followed. I don't think I will ever think about the Velveteen Rabbit again finding love...without thinking of a scarlet setting sunset and sails.
Joy, a wonderful friend of Philip, and her fiance, Joseph, chose the island for their wedding. Over the course of the week, family members flew and drove and ferried over (it is a lot of work to get here!!)...til all were gathered on the dock last evening. We all spilled upon the Windfall leaving shoes behind...A cooler of champagne was carried onto the boat. The bride carried a bouquet of local flowers picked on the side of the road and off dusty paths. Captain Rob and his first mate, Frank, hoisted sails as the wind carried us out into Pamlico Sound. When deep out into the water, the ceremony took place...six little nieces from four to fifteen read poetry of Emily Dickinson and Elizabeth Barret Browning and from the Velveteen Rabbit...The sun set as a crystal scarlet globe as we toasted the couple and sailed the Sound. The girls sang...it was peaceful...it was romantic...
A reception of homemade cake and visiting and stories followed. I don't think I will ever think about the Velveteen Rabbit again finding love...without thinking of a scarlet setting sunset and sails.
Friday, July 16, 2004
Dinner Party...
Last night we hosted a dinner party...friends of Philip's..new friends of mine. I love dinner parties here...they are casual (yes, we had barefeet)...they don't take too long in planning (we got home from the beach at 5:30)...and if you foget something (we did!!)...they will bring it!!
Karen and Dave arrived late (which was a good..see above) carrying clams casino. Dave is a park ranger for Portsmouth Island..a non-inhabited island (he takes his boat to work each each, thereby missing the bike traffic here on the island at rush hour!!) Karen works at a local island resort..although has been a teacher and now also home schools her daughters.
Our place was festive with new candles in the wrought iron chandelier over the table, lots of red wine and fresh caught shrimp from Danny's Seafood establishement. Philip steamed the shrimp and served them in a large bowl in the center the table...along with cole slaw and sweet corn (not the best, but nobody cared!!) and brownie sundaes for dessert. Amy stopped by to say hello and had dinner also!!
We toasted friendship and dinners and quiet times spent with friends..the talk was of island politics and folks and children...of all ages and those yet to be born.
We left the dishes and masses of dripped candlewax til morning. It was a lovely evening...strong stories, strong folks...oh, and all those clam shells were tossed into my garden so that I will remember the evening.
Karen and Dave arrived late (which was a good..see above) carrying clams casino. Dave is a park ranger for Portsmouth Island..a non-inhabited island (he takes his boat to work each each, thereby missing the bike traffic here on the island at rush hour!!) Karen works at a local island resort..although has been a teacher and now also home schools her daughters.
Our place was festive with new candles in the wrought iron chandelier over the table, lots of red wine and fresh caught shrimp from Danny's Seafood establishement. Philip steamed the shrimp and served them in a large bowl in the center the table...along with cole slaw and sweet corn (not the best, but nobody cared!!) and brownie sundaes for dessert. Amy stopped by to say hello and had dinner also!!
We toasted friendship and dinners and quiet times spent with friends..the talk was of island politics and folks and children...of all ages and those yet to be born.
We left the dishes and masses of dripped candlewax til morning. It was a lovely evening...strong stories, strong folks...oh, and all those clam shells were tossed into my garden so that I will remember the evening.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Sizzling Summer
It is hot here on the island...July hot..firecracker hot..dogs snoozing under old cedar trees hot. We have all the accomodations thought...air conditioning, ice cream, cool showers, and not to forget the ocean for a sweet/salty dip on these mid summer afternoons.
Growing up in Northern Indiana didn't give us much beach front, but we did spend summers for several years on Lake Michigan as kids. We rented a large house right on the water. Mom would start gathering food supplies in January in a small pantry and by early summer we had pancake mix and syrup (and other sundries) to feed a small army...well, we were a small army of six children!!
By early July supplies and children were all packed into our car, I was always in the middle of the back seat to entertain the younger siblings...songs and stories..Dad would always give a quarter to the first one of us to see the water. I think he started the game a hundred miles short of shore to keep us all busy and looking.
Our summer days were long and lazy...just books to read, suntan oil to spread, and games to play long into the night. Actually, I think I have had enough writing, I'm off to the beach now to cool off from this sizzling summer!!
Growing up in Northern Indiana didn't give us much beach front, but we did spend summers for several years on Lake Michigan as kids. We rented a large house right on the water. Mom would start gathering food supplies in January in a small pantry and by early summer we had pancake mix and syrup (and other sundries) to feed a small army...well, we were a small army of six children!!
By early July supplies and children were all packed into our car, I was always in the middle of the back seat to entertain the younger siblings...songs and stories..Dad would always give a quarter to the first one of us to see the water. I think he started the game a hundred miles short of shore to keep us all busy and looking.
Our summer days were long and lazy...just books to read, suntan oil to spread, and games to play long into the night. Actually, I think I have had enough writing, I'm off to the beach now to cool off from this sizzling summer!!
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Ghostly meanderng in Haiku for Tuesday
mariner footsteps
gliding through clam filled pathways
just looking for home
sails of ivory
silent in Pamlico Sound
dressed in white linen
shadows of shipwrecks
distant voices pierce the night
bones under my feet
shiftlessly she walks
the old woman down the lane
missing her finger
home to back yard graves
wind whistling in live oaks
turn on the porch light
gliding through clam filled pathways
just looking for home
sails of ivory
silent in Pamlico Sound
dressed in white linen
shadows of shipwrecks
distant voices pierce the night
bones under my feet
shiftlessly she walks
the old woman down the lane
missing her finger
home to back yard graves
wind whistling in live oaks
turn on the porch light
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