THE VACAY THAT INSPIRED A LITERARY CLASSIC

This is a tale about a house by the sea. A young writer visited often with to pass the time with his cousin, Susannah Ingersoll. Susannah was the daughter of a wealthy sea captain who lived with her family in a sprawling mansion right on the rocky coast of the Atlantic Ocean. The cousins spent many a lively evening in the dining room of said mansion. Since water was usually unsafe at this period of time (mid 1800s), spirits were often consumed for health’s sake, but it is not clear if said writer ever over-indulged. But while sitting in that house, something triggered the writer’s imagination, and he went on to write a dark romance, one met with critical acclaim, and one that has stood the test of time. 

The novel was first printed in 1851. The setting was Salem Massachusetts. The writer was Nathanial Hawthorne, and the book, The House of Seven Gables.

If you haven’t read it, or in the event you have forgotten, here is the opening paragraph:

“Halfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst. The street is Pyncheon Street; the house is the old Pyncheon House; and an elm-tree, of wide circumference, rooted before the door, is familiar to every town-born child by the title of the Pyncheon Elm." (Click here to be taken to the Cliffs Notes for the entire novel.)

BAD CHOICES MAKE GOOD STORIES, Summer 2022 Edition

Life is about making choices. Sometimes we make good choices, and sometimes we make bad choices. They, especially bad choices, are part of the learning process. For example, if someone tells you you’ll burn yourself if you touch the hot stove and yet you make the bad choice to touch it anyway, you learn for yourself that it is indeed hot and you won’t touch it again (shoutout to my li'l sis!) Or if you love wearing white pants while drinking red wine, knowing that one splish or splash will ruin them, yet you make the bad choice to wear them anyway. (That would be me…a lesson I’m still stubbornly refusing to learn.) (Actually, I think that’s the definition of insanity…doing the same thing but expecting a different outcome. But I digress.)  

Bad choices seem to have an affinity for summertime activities.  Skipping sunscreen while reading/snoozing on the beach? Bad choice. Or consider the ever-popular Slip-n-Slide. Rarely does one look back and consider that a good choice. Or inviting a dog/cat/child to join you for a summertime siesta in the hammock. Not a good choice—unless you like ending up face down in dog—ah—waste. Trying the gold-medal-winning Triple Gainer you saw in the Olympics? Usually a bad, bad choice. But learning experiences, all.

A DAY AT THE BEACH

<<In case you missed this one on our Sand in our Shorts blog...>>

It’s that time of year, you know, beach season. A time to pack up your beach bag and escape to the shore for bit of fun and sun (and in my case, the inevitable sunburn).

Popular activities which can only be enjoyed at the beach include body surfing, boogie boarding, sand-castle building, and fighting off seagulls for the last potato chip on your plate.

As the sun goes down, you repack your bag and head for a local beach dive bar. Popular post-day-at-the-beach drinks include Pina Colada, Mojito, Orange Crush, and the much less popular but certainly appropriate Seagull Wine. Not something I've ever heard of, but I'm picturing a nice pinot gris with a soaring seagull on its label. I could not be more wrong.

WHAT'S YOUR NUMBER?

So, here’s the scenario. While digging through my wallet for my voter ID, I found a gift card. MY LUCKY DAY! Except for it was set to expire at midnight. It must be spent, I said to myself! (I abhor wasting money…especially the free variety!) Off I go to said store and pick up a selection of items which may—or may not—include a bottle of wine. (Okay, those of you who know me well know that it did indeed include a bottle of wine, one from the bottom shelf in keeping with the amount on my gift card.)  My mental math had me estimating my total purchases to be just a skooch over the value of the card, an amount that would easily be covered by the loose change in my pocket. My double lucky day.

I should have read the fine print on the back of the card. In my defense, it was VERY fine print, and it’s not like I carry a magnifying glass around with me.

But the cashier had excellent vision and read it to me: “Not valid for purchase of alcoholic beverages.”

Alllrighty, then.

TO TRICK A THIEF...YOU be the Sleuth

It's summertime, and people are on the road to summer fun. But there's trouble brewing at a small diner on the road to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Someone is stealing tips! Match your sleuthing skills against waitress Tawny. All the clues are here for you to figure it out. The solution is posted in the comments.  

         “Ya’ll travel safely,” Tawny said, placing the check on the table.  Early June vacationers had been traveling through at a steady stream, heading for the outer banks of North Carolina for their summer beach vacations.  But despite the high turnover at her tables, tips had been disappointingly low.  She’d held off getting new brakes for her car, hoping she’d make enough extra money early in the summer in order to afford them.  At this rate, they’d have to wait another week.  Or two.      

          Loaded down with five plates piled high with pulled pork barbecue sandwiches, fries, coleslaw and fresh from the deep-fryer hushpuppies, she passed the table that had just left and spotted a stack of singles tucked under the salt shaker.  Good.  Maybe her luck was about to change.

KINDA PISSED ABOUT NOT BEING A MERMAID

 

Ran into these kitchen towels while shopping at The Attic at East Beach today and they got me to thinking. I didn’t know I there were opportunities available to actually be a mermaid, but I do live in The Mermaid City (Norfolk, VA—more on that in a bit) and it seems only fitting that should be one. So yeah, I am kinda pissed that I'm not.

As always, everything one needs to know can be found on the Internet, so I did a little research on the topic. 

The term “mermaid” literally translates to Sea-lady (Old-English “mere” meaning sea, and maid—as you may remember from The Twelve Days of Christmas—is a young lady). These mystical half-women/half-fish creatures were often spotted when “Sailing, sailing, o’er the bounding main.” Going back thousands of years, they’ve been incorporated into folklore throughout the world. Christopher Columbus himself reported seeing them when he explored the Caribbean late in the 1400s. (It’s possible he confused a manatee with a mermaid…lord only knows what those sailors drank in those days.) Reports of mermaid sightings continue into the 21^st century. (Again, what are those sailors drinking? They need to share!)

YARD OF THE MONTH

<<Mother Nature is currently teasing us with beautiful weather (for another 24 hours then it's back to winter). Spring Fever grabbed me by the neck and pulled me out into the yard. Three hours of raking and four bags of leaves later, my gardens were ready for their seasonal makeover. As I sat and sipped a glass of (medicinal) wine, I remembered about an article I had published almost a decade ago now. A cautionary tale, about what happens when a girl's dreams of lavish landscaping slam head-on into the reality of making them come true. I figured in the spirit of the changing seasons, I'd share it with you here.>>

My first gardening catalog came addressed to “Robert S. Jones or Current Resident.” That was me--Current Resident. We’d just made our fourth move in two years in conjunction with my husband’s Naval career.  His orders were for twenty-four months. Long enough to plant perennials. Oh, be still my heart!