Annie Knits

Ten on Tuesday: Ten Things to do instead of Watching Television

Oh, well.  If you're not talking about watching Dexter or True Blood or Top Chef, then we can talk...

1. Read a book.  Duh...   Georgette Heyer right now, of course.  I suppose you're getting tired of hearing me wax poetic about her stuff.  The question is, have you picked up one of her books yet so I have someone with which to talk about them?
2. Card wool.  I hope Kim wasn't too mad that I left on vacation with her carder sitting in my breezeway.  Kim, you can get it any time -- I just have to let the dog sitter know you're coming.  Anyway, I've just about spun all the corriedale we carded and I'll want to card more.  
3. Do science experiments with the boys.  We've gotten these bags that are a vial of vinegar inside of a packet of baking soda.  When you crack the vial, the bag explodes.  We're trying to duplicate them... with varied results.
4. Bake a cake.  
5. Ride your bike.
6. Play Scrabble.
7. Take a nap.
8. Do housework... I know, that's a copout, but it needed to be said.  Heck, it need's doing.  I listen to books while I do housework.  
9. Go visiting or have visitors.
10. Have a drink and sit on the porch and chat.  That works more for adults than kids.  It's a habit husband and I have adopted lately and it's almost like having a date night, except you can have more than one or two because you don't have to drive home.  

Well, the kids are up.  Time to ride bikes to the Nature Center and check on the baby alligators and the giant bunny.

There's a Baby in the House

Our friends Jeff and Julie were nice enough to drive down from St. Louis and bring us a baby.  

 

The teenagers in the house are over the moon.

 

Baby is fascinated with the view of the ocean out the window.  We are amused.

Yesterday, though, they left we girls and the baby to the beach and headed into Charleston again.  The goal was to visit Fort Sumter -- which is a flippin' frying pan this time of year.  That being the reason I stayed home with the baby, who is a good excuse for staying home.

 

The kids didn't seem to mind the heat so much.  Plus they got to go to Hyman's after the tour and then to the Straw Market again and to the candy store.  Life is good. 

Day 11 of my accomplishing zero knitting...
  

We're Wearing Them Down

Oh, I suppose it's not a battle, ... But if it was a battle, Husband and I would be winning.  

The kids are sleeping later and later each day.  When husband and I offer bike rides or romps on the beach, we are increasingly met with blank stares and groans.  We caught two of them watching the Weather Channel yesterday.  They weren't drooling, but the looks on their faces were pretty blank.

Oh, they can muster the energy to bake a cake.  And a darned good chocolate cake too!

I know, it looks wonky, but cake pans are surprisingly hard to find in vacation towns.  It tastes fabulous.  We had it and peel and eat shrimp for breakfast yesterday.  Ugh.  Some us of just had cake.

Husband and I wanted to ride to the marshland look out tower but we couldn't marshal any troops so we went alone.  

This is the view from the three story tower.  That's the Kiawah River way off in the distance.  Below us is tidal marsh land.  There were snowy egrets and frogs galore.  But the place sounded like a giant bowl of Rice Crispies right after your pour the milk over them.  Turns out that the mud is inhabited by snapping shrimp.  I'd never heard of such a thing... The sound is hilarious.  Husband and I laughed and laughed.  (The sound is at the beginning of the video -- the rest is actually pretty cool too but a little scientific.  Watch the whole thing though, because there is crab carnage at the end... fits in with the war theme of this post.)

We rode home, about 6 miles total in the noonday sun, to find the kids just exactly as we'd left them.  Husband and I put on our suits and went boogie boarding. 

My evil plan for family domination is working.  

P.S. -- I've accomplished not one single stitch of knitting or crochet.  Not a bit, this whole week.  I've read two books, but no needlework.  For shame.

Reality Check.

Gosh, we are having a great time at our beach house.  Yesterday, we took the day off from the surf and went into Charleston.  We shopped at the Straw Market, we took in some historical stuff (not Sumpter yet -- that place is a frying pan in this weather), we ate seafood, and we went to the Aquarium.  We came home to thunderstorms, but we still ate our spaghetti dinner out on the screened in porch.  

The storms cleared enough for the kids to go to a pool party, so hubster and I settled in for a quiet evening.  

As an aside, I have a mantra about beach houses in general.  As beautiful as they are, their settings are invariably problematic.  From houses on Lake Erie, to Lake Michigan, to California, to Hawaii, to South Carolina, all have had one thing in common, besides the beautiful views of course.  

Beach houses have bugs.  Usually ants, but sometimes more.  In California and Hawaii, they have geckos that click and chirp all the time.  It's a fact of beach life.

Here, we have flying ants.  They're about half an inch long and might be some kind of termite.  They congregate in the kitchen window and the boys kill them with various implements each day.  We also have ants that are large -- most like an inch long.  They make a satisfying crunch.  We're doing our best to eradicate them.

Anyway, after dropping off the kids, husband and I drank wine and chatted while sitting on the couch in a small family room off of the main room (it's turtle hatching season and we don't like to light up the house at night -- don't want to confuse the little guys and bring them into the dunes rather than the surf).  It was cozy and quiet after a long, loud day.  

Suddenly, husbands eyes got as big around as sand dollars.  Then he lunged across the couch at me, swiping at my shoulder, hollering, "Stay still, stay still!"

I screamed like a girl.

He hauled me out of the cushions and swiped at me some more while I screamed some more.

Then I saw the creature as it made an audible thunk on the coffee table.  

At which point I screamed like a full grown woman. 

It was a huge dark brown hairy spider.  In spider parlance?  As big as Pittsburgh.  Really, about the size of a lens cap.  It scuttled.  It scrambled.  But to no avail.  In fact, we wouldn't be able to identify it from the spider smush that was left.  

Panting, Husband wiped it up and tossed it away.  

We've decided not to tell the kids.  They're fine with ant wars, but I think this would put them right over the edge.  Please, don't you tell them either.

I'm not sitting on that couch as I type this post.  I'm sitting at the dining room table.  It's made of glass... Nothing can sneak up on me...

Everyone is Sleeping In!

Yesterday, we did a lot here at the beach.

We started with a bike ride.  We stopped at several of the ponds on the lookout for alligators but didn't see any.  Then, we rode to the Nature Center here on the island where we learned that there is a mated pair of bobcats hunting our section of the dunes at night (that'll keep those kids in their beds at night!) and that our turtle nest could hatch while we're here. We were able to identify the huge black and yellow spider that has a nest nearby (harmless) and we saw the list of recent animal spottings on the island. The baby alligators were floating in their pool, contained.  The girls prefer them that way.

Then we rode to the ice cream shop.  It's about 4 miles.  In 90 some degree heat.  Invigorating.  Riding back home was a daunting task and had a few of our crew balking, but Dad had a plan.  We pushed our bikes out to the beach and the wind helped us ride home in like a third of the time it took to ride all that way inland.  Great idea Dad.  The only thing sore was our posteriors.  

The girls retired to their room to continue their House (the 4th season) marathon and the boys and I put on our suits.

 

 

We went out to dinner at Shrimpers, where we got appetizers of fried pickles and alligator.   Everyone ate too much.  

Then Scrabble wars began.

 

I won the first skirmish, but the boys had a big finish and now that they have the hang of it, they'll be tough to beat.  Tonight will tell.  

The girls, rather than play with us, spent their evening gossiping on their porch upstairs.  They peeked in on us once in awhile to check on the score.

You'll notice that daughter has become adept at avoiding my camera.  I'll work on that today in Charleston. 
 
 
 

Ten on Tuesday

Gosh, is it Tuesday?

Today's topic is actually Ten Things to Take Camping, but since I don't much camp anymore, and since I'm at the beach, I think I'll do that.  

Ten Things to Take on a Beach Vacation

1. A good book.  Or several.  I have a few Georgette Heyer books with me.  Two on the Kindle for inside reading and two paperbacks for beach reading.  Husband has various astronaut and presidential history books with him.  No wonder he's sleeping so much.
2. At least 2 bathing suits.  I actually have three with me and used all three on Sunday.  I hate eating lunch in a dampish bathing suit.  Besides, I've been on a skeining nature walk (you know, where you drag a fine net through the surf and then examine what ends up in it?  Never do this, btw.) so I know what lives in this water.  It's all I can do to keep one suit on for a few hours...
3. Lots of Coppertone Sport sunblock -- it's the best.  We re-apply several times a day and go through probably a gallon of the stuff each week we're here.  Amanda turned me on to the clear zinc too -- excellent for faces.
4. Rash guards.  Long sleeved ones.  Husband fights the idea of the rash guard.  He says he owns a closet full of them...his shirts.  Whatever.   I like the long sleeves come about the 4th day when my forearms are burnt to a crisp.
5. A laundry basket.  Boy do I do a lot of laundry when we're at the beach.  
6. Wine and Meyer's Dark Rum.  'Nuff said.
7. Trevor.  He's the guy who comes each morning and sets up a beach umbrella and two beach chairs at the end of our boardwalk.  For a fee.  Which is totally worth it -- the wind here eats Walmart umbrella's for breakfast.  Ask me how I know.  
8. Sunglasses.  I am the dumbest person ever -- I lost mine yesterday to a huge wave that took me off guard.  The shop here in town says they can make me new ones in 5 to 7 business days.  Sheesh.
9. This one's a new experience this trip -- take along someone for for each of your kids to play with.  I'd put up cute pictures, but Typepad and this house's internet connection aren't playing nicely together...
10. Of course... several projects... I'm working on granny squares for a blanket and will post pictures later.  

Toodleoo!  I'm off to the beach.

Mingo Point

Yesterday started kind of slow.  The boys had a little bit of a beach hangover.  In fact, they slept until well after 10 a.m. and looked like this when they woke up.

Then they ate some Krispy Kreme donuts and went to boogie board on the big waves we had.  Then they had to take a nap.

The  girls were up pretty early in order to meet a boy, Adam, whom they met at the teen laser tag event the night before -- they all went for a long bike ride.  With me.  

I was up early enough to have this guest for coffee.

After a day in the waves, we went to an oyster roast, a weekly event here at an event space called Mingo Point.  It's a finger of land in a salt marsh actually -- here are a few of it's denziens.

It was low tide, so the crab holes were high and dry.  At one end of the dock, you could lean over and watch them bicker.  Over what?  I don't know, but there was lots of claw bandishing.  Can you see the little blue clawed crabs?  Yuck.

The food at this thing is killer, though.

This guy shovels the oysters onto this fire pit, covers them with wet burlap, and then, when they're steamin' hot, he shovels them onto your table.  This is when the fun begins.

 

Steamed oysters are an acquired taste.

But acquire it they did.  And they got pretty good at shucking too.  

 

No one but me was willing to eat the big juicy ones, though.  

 

There was also a buffet.  I got a lovely assortment of southern bar-b-que.

The boys got meat.  With a side of meat.

 

There was a limbo contest, but I couldn't get the teenagers to stop eating meat long enough to participate.

 

The girls found a bench swing and talked about the boys they've met at the teen mixers and the boys tumbled around the edges of the party like a couple of cubs.  Husband and I watched the sunset over the marsh.  

Beach House

My day started out like this.

 

Dear Dog Sitter is at home with the cattle and we're out of town...

Dear Son and I got up with the sun and went out to the beach.  We couldn't wait.  

There is a sea turtle nest at the end of our boardwalk.

 

And this crab hole?  You could put your fist into it.  If you had the inclination.  Neither of us had the inclination.  

 

Ok, the camera fogged up here, but it's a cute picture.  

The kids rode bikes on the beach and to the candy store.  They rode waves.  They dug huge holes in the sand and buried their feet.  Which turned into burying the whole person.  You know, kid things.  Each of my kids brought a friend on this trip -- 2 thirteen year olds and 2 seventeen year olds. 

 

At the end of they day, they've repaired to the hot tub.  

And Husband is out buying Aloe Vera lotion.  

If You Don't Have Anything Nice to Say...

Don't say anything at all.  Right.  We've heard it a million times.  And it's good advice.  Especially for a a blogger.

That said...

The next person who says to me, after I COMMISERATE with her about something by saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry ..." , "Why should you be sorry?  It's not your fault!" is gonna get a pop in the schnoz.  Of course it's not my fault.  I should have said what I meant which is that I'm sorry this or that has happened to you.  Why must you, when I am being NICE to you, slap me around?  Humph.  

And the next teenager who leaves a piece of trash, like a used up water bottle (why the heck are you drinking those in the house where we have RUNNING water anyway???) or the wrapper of a power bar (again, I say, those are for convenience when we are out!!!) on my floor is gonna get that piece of trash put where the sun don't shine...

And the next dog that jumps up on my newly painted window trim to bark at a squirrel, fer Chrissakes!, is gonna get a piece of my mind!

And I'm finished with the green sweater and it mostly fits.  Except I have to weave in all the ends because there were at least two knots in each skein of that Rowan Summer Tweed, but that's not the problem.  I lack the force of will to decide on my next project, which I could start TODAY if I had a lick of sense and not having a project waiting in the wings is just plain stupid.  Well, I have sock and blanket and lace projects, but GAH.  Having no sweater project gives me sweaty armpits.  (I'm not counting the silly pink baby sweater for nobody, Smartypants.)

And the next piece of freakin' technology that gives me an error message or fails to boot up as it should is gonna get TOSSED ACROSS THE ROOM!

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ABOUT ST. LOUIS DRIVERS!!  If I don't get KILLED on the way to or from my errands today, it will be a miracle.

Ahem.

Awww.  Husband just brought in the freshly brewed pot of coffee that he himself prepared, and topped off my cup.  All better.

A Little Bit Random... A Pictorial Essay

 I've got a bunch of photos in the camera - I ran car errands today.  

First up?  A shop not too far from our homestead.  Make sure to embiggen.

 How is it that one can spell the words cellular and synthetic correctly, but not cologne and watches.  Or perfume.  And if I couldn't spell them correctly, I would think my sign painter could. 

     

Next came a stop at my CSA Fair Shares.  Here is some of the yummy produce I got this week.   I see more summer succotash and berry muffins in our future.  Actually, I've got summer squash and zucchini coming out of my ears.  Anything you do with it other than zucchini breads, chopped and sauteed with various other things, or grated into pasta sauce?  I need a squash lifeline here...

 
 
  I've spun about 300 yards of the corriedale we carded last week.  2 ply, and mighty rustic still, I'd say.  The carded bats are easier to spin from, but the resulting yarn is about the same as if I just fluffed it by hand before spinning.  With the weather heating up, I'm not sure carding in the heat is worth it.  I bet Kim will say that the yarn would be smoother if I ran the wool thru the carder again.  She'd be right -- there are lots of short cuts and nups in it as it stands.  Very irregular.  I'll have to cogitate some more on this one.