January in SC

     Well, let's see if I can find enough information to put together something resembling a blog post.  I often recall the quotation from Bud Wilkinson, the legendary Oklahoma football coach: "When you create a monster you have to feed it."  What started as an easy travel blog as we did our "lap around America" in our new motorhome has become an obligation as some readers expect regular updates.  I know bloggers whose daily readership number in the thousands.  Mine is much smaller and more personal, so I guess I am obliged to provide inputs even if the story doesn't appeal to thousands.
     That said, one can always use animal pictures.  The last blog showed Baxter with his laser goggles on.

     Here's the old man warming his bum in front of a warm fire.  I understand the position as my back responds well to warmth.  I had a visit with a spinal surgeon yesterday to agree on a game plan.  It is clear that the stenosis (cartilage and bone minimizing neurological pathways) and listhesis (slipped disc between lumbar 4/5) are causing the lower back pain.  They are not causing the peripheral neuropathy, nor is diabetes.  But the two combine to sometimes make mobility a problem.  The decision was to wait.  When I get back in October from our last summer in Maine, I will sell the bus and see about some spinal stabilization surgery.  The MRIs at that time will give us a 30 month interval between MRIs to better asses the progress of the problem.  If we started that process now, I would not be sufficiently recovered to get in one more summer.  Not to worry.  There are a number of activities that have had to be abandoned as we have pursued the RV lifestyle.  A fifty gallon aquarium and a good garden are memories from more than a decade ago.  We have accumulated over 350,000 miles on motorhomes, so I guess we can say, "been there; done that".
     This morning Durelle suggested that I go out and look at the geese as a potential photo-op.  Although we have not been feeding them, our neighbors apparently have, because, as I leaned over the fence with the camera, eleven geese coasted up to our fence.  We expect to see a gaggle of goslings later in the spring. 

     A few days ago we had a Happy Hour with our Clemson friends, Walter and Brooke McCants.  The occasion was to deliver on a bet between Clemson and OU in the Orange Bowl.  They have a three year old Carson who is a delightful child.  I thought you would enjoy the picture of Durelle and Carson.

      We are doing fine and hope you are, too.

Rock Star dog

     Check out Joe Cool!

     If it looks as if Baxter were enjoying himself, he really isn't.  His arthritic hind quarters are getting a bit wobbly.  He frequently slips and falls on the hardwood floor.  With some reluctance we are in the middle of a two week, MWF "laser" treatment.  I really don't believe that it's a laser.  I think I know enough about the physics of a laser to be very skeptical.  I think that the glowing red wand used to massage his hips for 6.5 minutes each is an infrared source with enough energy to do some deep heating.  Even the vet calls it a laser, but I don't believe it really is.

     Other dog owners I talked with in the waiting room said it worked on their dogs.  We'll give it a good try, but we haven't detected any changes yet.

     I'm still trying to find a small residential refrigerator to replace the one in the bus.  No luck yet, but apparently the main slide out has been repaired with some confidence.

Christmas '15

     Well, another Christmas has come and gone.  Here in Charleston the temperature reached 81 degrees...a record for the date.  Sure enough, a few presents did show up.

     Cindy joined us for a Christmas breakfast of bacon and pancakes with real maple syrup.  I did a small standing rib roast on the Traeger for a fairly early dinner so she could go to work.  Durelle added Ann Grover's broccoli casserole and the rice pilaf that she has been doing for almost fifty years.  If it ain't broke, don't fix it.  Jackie Fare sent along a personalized Yankee Candle with a sentimental picture and caption.  Thanks, again, Jackie.  My being a sentimental old f***, I got Durelle a new clothes dryer.
     In driving around Hanahan there were some nicely decorated homes.

     The sign, if you can't read it, says,"Ho, Ho, Ho.  Donner and Comet are loose in the neighborhood.  Please drive slowly."
     The stitches are gone from my hand.  A palm reader will think I have encrypted my life's story.
     This post number 650.  I thank all the hard core readers who have hung in there.  I wish you a healthy and happy 2016, and I hope our country will have a better year than has recently been the case.

Disconnected Observations

        A year or so after we moved in, we had to have three dead or nearly dead trees removed.  They were a large factor in choosing this lot, but they did not survive the construction process.  There's a city ordinance that says that, if you take down a tree with a diameter of six inches or more at chest height, you must plant a replacement.  So, outside our front door, we planted a holly that is now thriving.  The berries barely got red enough in time for a Christmas picture, but there sure are a lot of them.

    

  

    

     I have been asked about the status of the bus.  The major problem, of course, was the main slide-out.  It has been bothered by fragments of broken safety glass when the rig was burglarized several years ago.  We have had several slide failures since.  Each time a shear pin has failed while trying to close a jammed slide.  A shear pin is like a mechanical fuse.  It is made of a soft metal so that a drive motor won't fail.  After several failures, there was an ovaled hole that made failure easy if not inevitable.  It has been repaired to the happy satisfaction of both ProTech and me.

     I had some hand surgery Friday to repair a "trigger finger" on the ring finger of my left hand.  Trigger finger is like a small scale version of carpal tunnel syndrome.  The ligaments that open and close a finger pass through a sheath.  When interference occurs, you can close a finger, but releasing it is difficult and may require a painful release using the other hand.  Surgery was a 30 minute, out-patient affair, but I had to show up at 0600!  Durelle picked me up around ten.  So far, so good.

     We had a pleasant connection last Sunday with previously unmet relatives at a local bistro.  Harry Cloutier was my uncle.  His wife, Marjorie, was a Cobb from Maine.  Her brother had a son, Rick Cobb, who was living in the area.  Cindy, Durelle and I met Rick and his wife, Doris, at Madra Rua, a nearby Irish pub .  He's a Citadel grad who retired from the Air Force, so we had a lot in common.  Here's a picture.  I must confess that it was Facebook that made the reunion possible.

     The tree is up and "Things are starting to look a lot like Christmas".

     There are no presents under the tree as yet, but I suppose that Santa will take care of that.

A Short History Lesson

     Yesterday the Mayor of Goose Creek, SC, Michael Heitzler, led about 200 local residents on a tour of the St. James, Goose Creek church.  He's an enthusiastic historian with several books to his credit.  The stucco over brick church was begun in 1713 and, while normally closed to the public, remains in remarkably good shape.  What is unusual is the slate jerkinhead roof with no steeple.  Both choices were probably due to experience with hurricane force winds.

     You have to realize that this was three generations before the Revolution.  The coat of arms of King George with the unicorn and the lion still adorns a piece of prime real estate above the altar.  The story goes that when the British were ravishing the countryside and searching for Francis Marion, that coat of arms saved the church from their wrath.

    

     In the early eighteenth century the low country, centered on Charleston, was home to the wealthiest citizens of North America.  Goose Creek was the site of wealthy plantations not only because it was in the middle of those suitable croplands, but also because it was a transportation crossroads.  Some American colonists were people looking for a place to practice their religion without interference or even persecution.  Others were missionaries.  The folks who set up shop in this area, however, were not nearly so altruistic.  The leaders came for money and power.  Cotton, rice and indigo generated huge profits.  The industry was labor-intensive, but that was not a problem; the plantation owners would just purchase more boatloads of slaves happily provided by Arab (and other) slave traders.  The culture evolved into a bi-modal one with a few living hypocritical lives of aristocratic elegance while many lived lives that were impoverished, brutal, and short.  That culture evolved and spread throughout the south, and its residue is easily visible even today.  A "southern living" society embodies a genteel and gracious approach, but the blonde's ugly roots are still evident.

    

Thanksgiving 2015

     Turkeys, turkeys, turkeys...there are so many ways to cook them.  There are fried turkeys, rotisseried turkeys, grilled turkeys, smoked turkeys and traditional, oven roasted Butterballs complete with a red button that pops out when the turkey is done.  I think I've done them all.  This year was a new wrinkle.  I used a recipe from Yankee magazine, but I cooked it on the Treager rather than in the oven.
     I started yesterday by brining a 13 1/2 pound fresh turkey overnight.  It was a conventional brine with salt, sugar, bay leaves, crushed garlic cloves, etc. until the recipe called for a cup and a half of bourbon!  The pot with the turkey and two gallons of brine just fit in the top shelf of the refrigerator.  The basting sauce included: stock, butter, and chopped pecans which had been run through the blender with some more bourbon.  1 1/2 tablespoons of maple syrup provided some sweetness.  In order to get the dark meat done without drying out the breast, I cooked it upside down, tented with foil for the first two hours.  It was on a rack in a roaster pan.  In addition to putting some stock in the pan to catch the drippings, I had some other liquid from the night before.  When I carefully opened the plastic wrap containing the bird, I captured a cup and a half of juice...let's say it; "turkey blood".  It was stirred into the stock in the pan.  When all that basting sauce made its way into the bottom of the pan, the result was some rich gravy. 

    

     Is that a good barbeque mop?  When the bird was done, it found its way to a platter my mother gave us forty years ago.

     The sides included: mashed potatoes, butternut squash, turnip, cranberry jelly and Cindy brought some creamed onions.  Here's the assembled feast:

     We have much for which to be thankful.  The world's turbulence is creeping closer to where we live, and a pandering government is endangering our grandchildren's future.  Nonetheless, we operate on some traditional values that continue to stabilize our lives.  May all of you enjoy the traditions...even the Detroit Lions.

No news is good news

     In 2008 this started as a travel blog, and I have struggled to keep it such.  There are times, however, when we've been home a while and have no great pictures to build a blog around, that I am compelled to admit that this effort is mostly about keeping in touch with friends.  We've been home a couple of days short of a month with little exciting going on.  I've resumed bi-weekly PT, and it's gradually helping.  I have yet to visit my spinal specialist.  We'll see where that leads us.

      
     Baxter has had four growths removed.  The one on his toe was primary because it interfered with walking.  The other three were largely cosmetic while he was under.  All stitches are now out, but he does have to wear a boot when he goes out.  His heart, lungs and digestive system are all extraordinarily healthy, so he seems to manage everything else just fine.  Vision and hearing are nearly gone.
     Durelle, of course, is strong enough for all of us.  She even got in some golf with Cindy recently.
     I was going to add my all Fall foliage pictures...consisting of a magnolia and a Confederate Rose.  The magnolia blossoms are at their photographic peak for less than 24 hours each.  I missed the ones that were close enough for a close-up.  Here's our hibiscus mutabilis or Confederate Rose.

     I guess if I really want a nice Fall color picture, I'll have to steal one from Jackie Fare.

     This is their back yard, by the way.
     Thanks to Jack and Liz Flood for reminding me that I needed to get off my duff and post a blog.  It provides both comfort and a little pressure to be reminded that there are a number of friends out there that care about us even when we don't have any material for a travel blog.