Don't Cry Over Spilled Rum

Have you ever had a moment during a vacation when something didn't seem so funny at the time, but, later on, you did appreciate the humor?

During our recent vacation in Charleston, South Carolina, we had one of this moments.

It all started with a Striped Pig.

A Striped Pig Distillery, that is.

Distilleries are popping up all over the country, it would seem. So, I was interested in seeing what Charleston had to offer.  Two years ago, we had visited a moonshine distillery in Asheville, North Carolina and I wanted to compare and contrast.

Moonshine, for those outside our country, is basically an unaged whiskey, usually made from corn but sometimes rye and barley can be used in addition to the corn.  I am not a fan of legal moonshine, but my spouse will drink it.

(Incidentally, moonshine is perfectly legal to distill, with the proper licenses.  I am NOT discussing the homemade, illicit moonshine that most people think of - although that would be an interesting blog post if I did know more about it. )

This distillery offered moonshine, vodka, and rum.  A distillery making rum is a bit unusual in our area of the country, so we wanted to check this out.  We did, liked what we tasted, and decided to buy a bottle of rum.

We approached the end of our vacation, the bottle of rum riding comfortably in the trunk of our car, or so we thought.

We started to pack the car and - let's put this gently, the trunk of our car smelled like a distillery.  The smell was so strong, it almost knocked us over.  Even in the part of the car where we ride, the smell was quite obvious.

More to the point, it smelled like the Striped Pig Distillery.

We discovered that the bottle of rum had not been riding comfortably in the car trunk.  Unlike large commercial rum bottles, this had been corked, with a tiny tape.  And it hadn't been sealed.

The cork had popped in the Charleston 80 degree heat and almost the entire bottle of rum had soaked the trunk of our car, and the contents that had been left in the trunk.

We left Charleston hoping a policeman didn't need to pull us over for some reason.  But a couple of our friends may be getting - well, fragrant, gifts.  I do think we will be laughing at this one day, and not just because we were breathing in all those rum fumes for hours.

The distillery, by the way, was interesting and I plan to blog about it at a future date.

Do you have a story of a vacation situation that wasn't funny at the time?

Civil War Sunday - 153 Years Later

Yesterday, April 12, 2014, marked the 153rd anniversary of the start of the United States Civil War, as Confederates bombarded Fort Sumter on an island in Charleston Harbor, South Carolina.

I was in Charleston this past week, and the car trip down from my home in upstate New York was a fascinating experience.  It gave me a lot of time to think.

Gettysburg, PA - the site of perhaps the most famous Civil War battle

On the way, we passed exits for a number of Civil War battlefields and related sites, starting in Pennsylvania.

Spring still hadn't reached Gettysburg as my spouse and I passed near to a site where 51,000 people had been either killed, wounded, or captured in the battle that represented the Confederacy's greatest northward penetration into the Union.

Moving into Maryland, we passed near Andrews Air Force Base.  When we passed from Pennsylvania (a free state) into Maryland (a slave state that stayed with the Union), we had also crossed the historic Mason-Dixon line.

Then we crossed from Maryland into Virginia over the Potomac River on the Woodrow Wilson Bridge.  Such a simple act, but in 1861, if the bridge had been there, Virginia certainly wouldn't have been welcoming a couple of Yankees.  This was the border between the Union and the Confederacy.  In fact, a small portion of the bridge is technically in our capital, Washington, DC.

I didn't take any pictures of road signs at that point, but there were several road signs which had both Washington, DC and Richmond, Virginia listed on the same sign.  So simple - two cities, some 106 miles apart. But, during the Civil War, they were the capitals of two countries at war with each other.

Fredericksburg - near to four major Civil War battles, two of which will be commemorating 150th anniversaries next month.  Now, a city connected to other cities, north and south, via Interstate 95.

How many people give thought to history when they travel this road daily?  Things could have been so different if history had worked differently.  We can play the "what if" game - some people who enjoy something called "alternate history" do that and write some pretty interesting books based on "what if".

This photo was taken from the Ravenel Bridge that connects Charleston, South Carolina with another South Carolina City, Mt. Pleasant.  Permanently docked in Mt. Pleasant, and now a museum, is the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Yorktown, in a living museum called Patriot's Point.


If you look behind the green area to the left of this aircraft carrier which proudly flies the flag of the United States, you will see a distant, small island.  On this island sits Fort Sumter.

This is what the view of Charleston Harbor looked like after sunset on April 12, yesterday evening the 153rd anniversary of the start of the Civil War. So peaceful.


I offer no deep thoughts. Instead, what I feel is sadness - because, as horrible the war had been between April of 1861 and April of 1864, things were about to get even worse.  Much, much worse.

Sustainable Saturday-Charleston South Carolina Farmers Market

This is one of the most beautiful location for a farmers market that I have ever seen.

South Carolina State Arsenal Building, Charleston, SC

Part of the pleasure of travel for me is finding and eating local food, especially food that is fresh and minimally processed.  Today was the opening day of the Charleston farmer's market, held in historic Marion Square in Charleston. (At a later date, I will blog about the history I found inside this square. In fact, the building above has an interesting history as the former location of the famed military college, The Citadel.)

Even as far south as Charleston is, not everything they are offering is in season yet.

The vendors marked produce that was local, though, and one vendor (price list above) was quite upfront about exactly where each of his items originated from.  (ONPF means his own. Lady Moon is in Florida. Mayflower was elsewhere in South Carolina).  We bought garlic (below) from him.

This vendor advertised local only, with a big offering of radishes, and early greens.

We were so thrilled to buy fresh garlic (not last year's storage crop) from this market.

Strawberries are also at the beginning of their season.  We bought the strawberries and reluctantly left the dewberries behind.

There was a lot of photography going on, and none of the vendors seemed to mind. 

Mushrooms were a welcome surprise, although we didn't buy any.

The Charleston market did not disappoint - with one exception, something that also bothers me about our local downtown Binghamton, New York farmer's market - not all of the food is local.  But there was a local food information booth, and I talked to two energetic young women attempting to get the word out.  In a city where world famed restaurants are on almost every streetcorner downtown, I hope the word does continue to get out.

We did buy a couple of local food items you find in few other places, which will be subjects of a later post.

Our local farmer's market in upstate New York won't be outdoors for another three weeks.  I basked in that 80 degree heat - by Tuesday, back home, we may get some snow.

Have you shopped at a farmer's market recently?

Would You Take this View for Granted?

My spouse and I had an argument walking to a waterfront park in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina.  There were condos near the park, and some of them had views of the Ravenel Bridge which connects Mt. Pleasant with Charleston, South Carolina.

Palmettos, Waterfront Park, Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina just after sunset

"I could never tire of this view", my spouse said.

"Yes, we would", I said.  "If we lived here a while, we would stop looking at the sunset." And", I continued thoughtfully, "the palmettos.  I love seeing them. They are nothing like what grows where we live in upstate New York".

"No, I wouldn't", my spouse replied.  Together, we gazed at what the locals call "The Triangles".  I had come to the Charleston area to walk the five miles of the Ravenel Bridge, as I blogged about earlier this week.  "Every day, before work, I would look out at the bridge."

Charleston skyline under Ravenel Bridge

"Every night, after returning from work, I would look out again at the bridge.", he continued.

"No you wouldn't!", I said with the assurance of someone married to someone else for nearly 40 years. "We both would plop on the sofa after eating dinner, and that would be that."   We know each other well - too well, perhaps.

It is sad how we learn to take things we see every day for granted. People were walking in the park, and for all I know that bridge wasn't even registering on their consciousness.  It was part of their everyday scenery, just as Johnson City, New York is part of ours.

But travel 850 miles to see something, and you will take picture after picture of it.

Are you like that, too?

Wonders' Way

Today, I walked on Wonders' Way.

A brief explanation: In 2012, I attempted to walk across the Arthur Ravenel Bridge (5 miles total round trip) which spans the Cooper River and connects Charleston, South Carolina with Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina.  I've exercised walked for years, and enjoy walking in cities I visit, especially when I walk across bridges.


Although I thought I was in good walking shape back in 2012, I was flirting with obesity from middle aged weight gain, and also battling an arthritic knee.  The first part of the walk is uphill, and I did not make the entire bridge.  I had to turn back and completed about 3.2 miles out of the five mile total.

I remembered watching all the people who were walking the bridge - elderly people, young mothers pushing babies in strollers, couples, and saying to myself "I really need to do something about this."  You could call it my "a ha" moment. 

I vowed I would return to Charleston, weight lost, and make the walk.  The first goal (weight loss) completed late last year, I made plans for the trip.

A few weeks ago I wondered if I would be able to make the walk after a needed wisdom tooth extraction led to sinus complications.  I wasn't in peak condition.  But I decided to try anyway and do the best I could.

Today was the day my spouse and I chose to make the walk.  I decided I would dedicate the walk to several people I know who are facing challenges far greater than my sinus and weight problem. I'd like to give a shout out to (in no particular order) Margaret, Howard, Patti, Nick, and Jonathan.  All of these individuals are fighting cancer.

Approaching the bridge from the Mt. Pleasant side once you complete the initial climb up the first part of the bridge that injured my knee last time, this is what you see.  The walking/running/biking section of the bridge is called Wonders' Way.  (named after a bicyclist, Garrett Wonder, who was struck by a vehicle and was killed while training for the Olympics in 2004).

Those spans fascinate me.

The size of the supports fascinate my spouse.

We made it to the Charleston side.  As you can tell, Charleston is not a city of skyscrapers - in fact, the bridge is one of the highest points in the city.

This is the Charleston side "bridge end" of Wonders' Way.  I have no idea what this structure is -I wonder (no pun intended) if it is part of the bridge support from the previous Cooper River Bridge that the Ravenel Bridge replaced.

This shows a portion of the long approach (less steep than the Mt. Pleasant side) to the bridge spans from the Charleston side.

One last shot of Wonders' Way, and the bridge. 

I completed the five mile walk!   And that steep incline?  Bridge exercisers say you get used to it.  I don't know, though. I did manage to hurt (not badly, at least not yet) my other knee.  But despite that - I feel like I accomplished something big today.  I'm grateful for the chance.

Thank you, my blog readers, for coming to my blog and for sharing this moment with me.

Spring Things - Summerville YMCA Flowertown Festival and the Spring Showdown

Finally, a really spring like Spring Thing!


While the northeast United States tries to make up it's mind - is it spring? is it winter? is it spring? South Carolina has made up its mind.

Meanwhile this upstate New Yorker, sick of the indecision, decided she would take a road trip to find spring, and drag it back, using force if necessary, to upstate New York.

By Sunday afternoon, your intrepid blogger and her long suffering mate had reached Summerville, South Carolina.

Summerville, South Carolina is about a 30 minute drive from Charleston.  It is a city just a tad smaller population-wise than Binghamton, New York, where I work.

In the heart of Summerville is Azalea Park. We had been there once before, several yearsago before the azaleas were in bloom.  I've wanted to go back. When I heard that, on the first weekend of April, the YMCA held a festival fundraiser in the park that attracted thousands of visitors, I decided that would be the place where Spring and I would have our showdown.

We arrived at the park.  So far, so good .

In the crowds of people, I thought, Spring would never notice me.

But then, I lost my focus. I saw homemade chips and dips - I had to buy some.  And then there was the booth with the homemade flavored pork skins.  My son loves pork skins, and I have to pay him back for watching my home while we were gone.  (In case you were wondering, the vendors really were dressed up like hillbillies.)  When we bought three bags of skins, they rang a large cowbell and gave out cheers.

My cover was blown.

So I decided to just enjoy the scenery.

Azaleas and wisteria (and a little of my thumb)

And enjoy the scenery some more. It will be weeks until we see azaleas in upstate New York.

We will see camellias never.  They can not survive our climate.

There were even a couple of Civil War exhibits, including a replica of the CSS Hunley, the Confederate sub sunk in Charleston Harbor a little over 150 years ago.  I've blogged about the Hunley before.  I've just never seen it from the back. (There was a small crowd around the exhibit so I couldn't get close enough for a better photo.)

So, Spring, you win.  For now, you will stay in South Carolina, and bathe everyone here in wonderful heat.  But I am still going to find a way to bring you back to upstate New York.  Right now, I'm in an undisclosed location, and you won't know where until I jump out to have a very overdue talk with you.

Spring - be prepared!

Preparing for the Gardening Season in a Community Garden

Today, in upstate New York, it reached a balmy 55 degrees F (almost 12 degrees C). By Friday it should be in the 60's.

Spring has arrived.  The gardener's thoughts in the Northern United States turn to the spring garden.  In the South, the growing season is already in progress.

As we rent two community garden spaces in Otsiningo Park, in Binghamton, New York, we have to wait for the county to plow the gardens before we can plant. This usually doesn't happen until early May, which makes it dificult to grow some of the early crops such as peas and spinach.  But, there is still enough we can plant.

Why community garden? For us, it is because we have limited space at our house.  For others, though, it may be a necessity- for example, for people living in apartments, renting houses, or in other housing situations.

You meet the most interesting fellow gardeners, and you might even meet a dinosaur.

We have rented plots in this community garden for years, but changes may be coming - a post for a future time.


This year, we ordered some seeds from a new (to us) seed catalog- Bakers Creek Heirloom Seeds.  
A co worker had told me about them last year, after we had already purchased our seeds.  This year, we are giving them a try with six seed packets.  A seventh packet, for wild garlic, was already out of stock.

Bakers Creek says their catalog is the largest in this country, at some 350 pages.  I believe it.  The photography is stunning and the selection is impressive. 

These are our trial seeds.  We especially look forward to trying the Chinese Red Noodle bean.

These are some of the most beautiful seed packets we have ever seen (especially if you ignore my blurry photography).

I have only one complaint about Baker Creek.  Ordering online, which I would have preferred to do, was difficult.  We ended up placing the order after several glitches and the website warned us they were having problems.  Sure enough, our order never went through online. After all, we had to write out a second, by hand, order, and mail it in.  That order, though, did come promptly.

Do you garden?  If so, are you preparing for your gardening season?

Searching for Spring

I've had it.  If spring won't come to me at my upstate New York home, I decided I would come to spring.

I vowed I would do whatever it took. (Well, I would cheer on my spouse, who would do the driving).  I would travel until I found spring, and then I would make spring come back with me.

I could bribe spring with food.  I could beg it.  I could take pictures of her and blackmail her into coming to Binghamton, New York.  I would think of something.

The open road beckoned.

The journey began.  It was 34 degrees out as we left at dawn. The sun rose south of Great Bend, Pennsylvania.   My friend back home said ice pellets fell as she walked that morning.

I found spring in southern Maryland.  They baked a cake because they knew I was coming. (Um, not really, but it was a delicious cake.)

In Frederickburg, Virginia, trees were blooming.

In Raleigh, North Carolina, redbuds were the tree of the hour.

In Summerville, South Carolina I found azaleas.

And in Charleston, South Carolina, roses.

Today in Binghamton, it was 41 degrees with light rain.  In Charleston it was 80 degrees and we were under a tornado watch.

I've found spring.  Spring, I know where you are hiding.

Now, I have my work cut out.

The Fifth Anniversary

(Civil War Sunday will return next week.)

On a street corner on the edge of downtown Binghamton, New York, there is a small park on a street corner.

The passerby sees glass birds on a pole.

There are 13 stones, each with a plaque.  Each represents an innocent who was shot dead on the morning of April 3, 2009 on the grounds of the American Civic Association in Binghamton, New York.  All of the dead, 13 at all (14 if you count the shooter, who was a former client of the ACA) were in an adult classroom.  The fifth anniversary of this loss was just a few days ago.

This is the building where the shooting took place.  It looks so peaceful now. (Photo taken summer of 2013.)

Roberta King was the teacher. She was subbing for the regular teacher, who had taken the day off to celebrate her 40th wedding anniversary.  Some of my readers have enjoyed my December Hanukkah House posts showing dolls and dollhouses - many of these belonged to Mrs. King.  She was the mother of 10. Even at 72, she was refusing to retire.

Marc and Marie Bernard, husband and wife, left behind two children, a 12 year old and a six year old.

Maria Zobniw was born in a displaced persons camp in Europe after World War II, and immigrated to the United States when she was four.

Lan Ho's husband was also in the classroom with her and tried to shield his wife's body with his. He survived. She didn't.

Everyone - ordinary people from different walks of life, and different parts of the world.

This is the honor roll of the dead (taken from Wikipedia)

• Parveen Ali, age 26, an immigrant from northern Pakistan
• Almir Olimpio Alves, age 43, a Brazilian Ph.D. in Mathematics and visiting scholar at Binghamton University, attending English classes at the Civic Association
• Marc Henry Bernard, age 44, an immigrant from Haiti
• Maria Sonia Bernard, age 46, an immigrant from Haiti
• Li Guo, age 47, a visiting scholar from China
• Lan Ho, age 39, an immigrant from Vietnam
• Layla Khalil, age 53, an Iraqi mother of three children
• Roberta King, age 72, an English language teacher
• Jiang Ling, age 22, an immigrant from China
• Hong Xiu "Amy" Mao Marsland, age 35, a nail technician who immigrated from China in 2006 
• Dolores Yigal, age 53, a recent immigrant from the Philippines
• Hai Hong Zhong, age 54, an immigrant from China
• Maria Zobniw, age 60, a part-time caseworker at the Civic Association, whose parents were from the Ukraine.

If you look at the names, and some of the faces, you will realize that people from all over the world, and from different races (as our culture defines race - yes, that is defined by culture) died that day.  As equals.


Next week, I hope I can turn to happier topics