Memorial Day Weekend

Memorial Day weekend is one of my favorites. The end of the brutal school and sports year is just around the corner.  The weather is usually warm.  There's no work on Monday. And summer is just a hop, skip and a jump away.

A few years back when I had a deadline for my book, I took Memorial Day week off to focus on finishing up. Ever since, I've used this week to take a break from work and all the rushing around and to (hopefully) get caught up on housework.  Next week I have to work on Friday but intend to spend the rest of my time sleeping working on the yard and house, which have been sorely neglected for some time now.

When Son and Daughter were younger, we usually spent Memorial Day weekend camping over on the Eastern Shore, from a place that had the most beautiful sunsets.  I loved camping there, even if it was a lot of work.

These pictures, which I've posted before, are from one of those camping trips.

Happy Memorial Day weekend.

Buzzard

This dirt lane lives down Redart.

At the end of the dirt lane lives a dock and an overturned boat.

And on this particular day right next to the boat stood a rather befuddled-looking buzzard.

I say he looked befuddled because usually these creatures are loitering in larger groups, bickering over something sizable and dead, focused on eating and boxing out any competition (which also eerily sounds like our 2011 family Thanksgiving at the Golden Corral buffet, but I digress).

Not so on this particular day, at least not from my vantage point. He appeared to be solo, quietly enjoying the peace and solitude.  Perhaps he was just taking a break from all his buzzard-ing.

Also, here's a news flash.  This may not technically be a buzzard, but I am too tired and lack the time to research this buzzard vulture thing.  One of my four  three two readers can chime in on the technically correct term if they see fit.

Anyway.

The word buzzard has always made me sort of smile, for reasons I can't really articulate and don't have the time to analyze--although I could if pressed.  There is, however, a story in particular I now think of whenever I hear the word.

About eight years ago, I was on vacation with a man ten years my senior.  We stopped at a place called Sting-Ray's over near Cape Charles on the Eastern Shore to purchase some gas and wine. He took care of the gas while I perused the wine options. He met me at the counter as the younger female cashier asked to see my ID. Naturally I was thrilled to provide proof that I was not just 21, but, in fact, over 40.

She took my driver's license, studied it, glanced at me, glanced back at the license, handed it back to me and without a word began ringing up the purchase, satisfied.  

My companion, ever the wiseacre, asked, "Don't you want to see my ID?"

Without even looking up from her task of bagging the wine, without a change whatsoever in her countenance, the cashier said, "Nobody needs to see your ID, you old buzzard."

I howled with laughter.

This concludes my story of why cashiers buzzards make me laugh.

The End.

Click here to see what Sting-Ray's is all about, although they fail to highlight the very astute employees in charge of putting old buzzards in their place the cash registers.

Sunset

These are the last few photos from last weekend's trip that included a stop on Virginia's Eastern Shore, which manufactures some of the best Chesapeake Bay sunsets you'll find.

This weekend I'm off on another adventure that (if all goes as it's supposed to) will include a trip to the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum (click here)  in St. Michaels, which is on Maryland's Eastern Shore.

With any luck Chesapeake Bay Woman will share pictures from the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum next week.

Until then, enjoy your weekend, which I hope is fantastic.

Clouds

These were taken from the Eastern Shore as the sun was setting on the Chesapeake Bay. I titled this post Clouds rather than Sunset, because I want you to focus on the clouds instead of the glare  the sun itself is blurred.  I was using my backup camera and honestly was more focused on the clouds at the time.

There are a few more sunset pictures that I took later on that came out better.  I'll save those for tomorrow and/or Friday.

We are slowly being forced back into lives that are tied to the school calendar.  Daughter is trying out for volleyball and practices began this week.  Son is frantically trying to finish a school-related project before he takes a few more trips out of town to visit colleges and family.

And I want to stay stuck in the memories of our last summer together before Son graduates high school and prepares to leave home.

Thanks for stopping by.


 

Pelicans, Pound Nets and Sunsets

These were taken near Kiptopeke State Park on the Eastern Shore.

Son, Daughter and I stayed here for two nights after 

spending the two previous nights in my friend Iris's beach house in Delaware.

Most of the pictures I took in Delaware were from the iPhone.

At the moment, I am too tired to deal with transferring them.

Anyway, we enjoyed the visit with Iris and her family immensely.

The two nights we spent in Kiptopeke were very relaxing.

And the sunsets? 

 Spectacular.

We started the drive back to Mathews Monday morning.  The trip takes us over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, which drops us off in the Virginia Beach vicinity. Son had the great idea to extend the vacation by just a few hours by stopping in Virginia Beach.

Who was I to say no to more beach time which would also delay our return to reality?

We parked the car, dragged our beach chairs out one more time and enjoyed the most beautiful weather.

Then we drove home.

Some of us are in denial that there is work tomorrow.  But some of us can't complain about having the opportunity to get away again so soon after our North Carolina vacation.

No, some of us have nothing to complain about at all.

I hope your weekend was great and that your week is too.

Family Vacation 2013

These pictures were taken during previous summer camping trips to the Eastern Shore.  We haven't been camping in a long time, mostly because I am too afraid to tow a camper from Mathews through the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel and back by myself (never mind the setting up, although I can do it) in a vehicle that is seven years old.

One thing I'm not afraid to do by myself, though, is drive in a seven-year-old vehicle to Avon, North Carolina, with two teenagers.  No sirree, I am very much looking forward to it.

I put so much hope and expectation and anticipation into one week of the year, and it's finally here.

Click here for a 2011 post about one of the first times we all went to Avon, NC. We'd been before, but some years only one parent or one sister could come or some would only stay for part of the week, etc.

Click here for a 2008 post, where I tell of the very first time we ventured to the Outer Banks as a family.  It was in the off season, I recall, and CB Son was a toddler--not in 2008, but in the story.

Click here for a glance at Family Game Night on last year's vacation. My throat was raw from screaming.  And laughing.

Most of all, I hope your weekend and the days and nights that make up next week are fantastic.

I intend to make the most of every minute and second that I am away.

Three Things

Welcome to Three Thing Thursday, where we're encouraged to share three (or more) random (or related) thoughts.  Whatever happens to be on your mind.

I'll begin, but only because I must.

1.  These photos were taken from our campsite over on the Eastern Shore last weekend.  It is funny how I traveled over 100 miles to sleep in a tent with 4 teenagers only to enjoy the exact same sights very similar to what we have right here in Mathews.  But there's something nice about running away being far from home even if you are sleeping in a tent full of kids on what feels like a slab of concrete in the middle of a raging storm.

1b.  I promise that's the last time I'm going to talk about that camping trip.  However, I am starting to think I'm suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

2.  The hurricane is supposed to hit this weekend.

2b. (Hello, Stress? Didn't I just endure you and your associated hurricane-force winds last weekend while trapped in a tent two hours away from home? Oops! I mentioned that camping trip again.)

2c. Is it me or has the wind already picked up significantly? Or is it still blowing from Tuesday's earthquake last weekend's Middle of the Night Storm? (Oops!) Is it possible that a hurricane so far away can create such steady wind, or is this related to something else, such as post-traumatic stress disorder?

3. It's been really cool the past several nights. I don't mean cool as in kool. I mean cool as in brisk, chilly. What a treat it's been to sleep with the sliding glass doors open. The Insect Serenade each night is fine as long as they stay outside very relaxing after a long day of earthquakes, commutes to work, and the details of every day life that include transporting children to and from various school-related activities even though school has not yet begun.

4. Click here for Chesapeake Bay Mother's blog, and check out the second post down called Three Days of the Codgers.  It's pretty darn funny. (The photos of the VW and Howard in the first post go along with that post.)

That's all I have for the time being. Now it's your turn.


Please tell me three (or more) random (or related) things going on in your life right now.

Camping

Last weekend, the Chesapeake Bay Children, their friends and I went camping over on the Eastern Shore in Cheriton, which is almost directly across the Chesapeake Bay from Mathews.

Actually, the town of Eastville is directly across the bay from Mathews, and many moons ago folks from Eastville settled in Mathews and called the town Westville. Who here besides Chesapeake Bay Woman is wondering how a story about her weekend camping trip has already gone so far off course?

Anyway, Cherrystone Campground in Cheriton on the Eastern Shore is on the Chesapeake Bay, almost directly across from Mathews.

The shot above was taken from our campsite. It was lovely, really.  But see all that sand?  That wasn't so lovely sprinkled all over the tent floor and was not nearly as comfortable to sleep on as you might think, unless you're thinking that it would feel like concrete and then you'd be correct!

CBW, always with an astute eye for detail, did not bring anything that would aid in the removal of said sand, because she was only focused on those bare essentials that would fit (along with 4 teens, a tent and their belongings) in the back of her car.

Oh, and on the topic of essentials?  Evidently CBW considers sleeping bags and blankets to be nonessential. Or rather she brought some but not enough.

CBW realized this when she awoke Saturday morning (with sand ground into her face, thank you very much) and noticed that Chesapeake Bay Daughter's friend was wrapped up in a beach towel.

This, of course, brought back her own fond memories of sleeping wrapped snugly in a vinyl tablecloth on her 1977 cross country camping adventure with her own dear family.

On Saturday, the day after The Storm which I'll discuss in a minute, the children went kayaking. Here they're headed for that delightful spot of pristine beach--the very same stretch of beach which has two large, imposing, intimidating No Trespassing signs.

Below is the tent.  This is the same tent that almost blew away Friday night in The Storm.

Everything looks so calm and serene here, doesn't it?

Belows is what the sky looked like Friday evening.  In spite of the ominous looking clouds, CBW cheerfully made a campfire and sat down to relax as she watched lightning flash far off in the distance.  As far as she could tell the storm was headed north and was hugging the eastern side of the bay.

Then she went to sleep.

But not for long.

At about 1:30 a.m. she awoke to the sound of an oncoming train howling winds and a screeching daughter, who was hovering over her trying to explain that the rain cover had come loose from the back side of the tent.

CBW ran bleary eyed outside to grab the rain cover and hold it down.  Only problem was she could not let go of it in order to locate the hammer and stakes to secure it. So there she stood, being pelted by rain and barely able to open her eyes due to the oncoming wind.

Just about this time, as she's standing in the dark in the middle of a storm, her camping neighbor came over and hollered that her campfire (which she swore was out before she fell asleep) was raging out of control.  Then he hollered for his wife to help with the rain cover.  He tended to the out of control campfire, and the wife held down the rain cover while CBW went groping around in the dark, windy night looking for her ruby slippers so she could wish herself back home hammer.

It takes a village to salvage a CBW camping trip.

CBW (who amazes herself by using the third person when discussing traumatic events) staked down the rain cover, thanked the neighbors profusely and raced back inside where she and Daughter and Daughter's Friend held down the front of the tent with the weight of their pools of tears bodies.

Meanwhile, the teenaged boys never opened an eye.

But they successfully held down their corner of the tent.  Teenagers.

The wind raged and the storm howled and CBW cried finally things started to ease up a bit.

Then, after what felt like five minutes of sleep on sand as hard as concrete, the sea gulls started squawking and campers emerged from their travel trailers all rested as if nothing happened.

In fact, the next day it appeared as if nothing had happened.

Unless you count nearly being blown away and almost catching the campground on fire nothing.

This concludes the nightmare highlights of our weekend on the Eastern Shore.

The End.

Three Things

Welcome to Three Thing Thursday, where anyone reading is free to share three things, whether they're related to anything I'm talking about or not.  In fact, the further you steer from what I'm talking about the better. In fact you don't even need to read my stuff in order to share.  In fact, I'm going to stop saying in fact now.  

Let's begin.

1.  The photo above, pulled from the archives, is from my Memorial Day camping trip over on the Eastern Shore with the Chesapeake Bay Children.   I absolutely love this place and wish I were there now with no other places to be; absolutely nothing to do; no logistics to coordinate; no animals to feed; no book deadlines and no chores to complete for at least three solid weeks.

2.  The Mathews High School Cross Country teams won their district meet yesterday in Williamsburg.  Although I couldn't make it due to my paying job, reader Bay Browder, who used to coach cross country himself, was in attendance. He  really needs to help out with spring track (the 400, 800, mile and 2-mile or at least the mile and 2-mile) and I will continue to pester him about it.

3.  While waiting for the cross country bus to arrive at the high school after the meet, I scrunched down in my car and pretended to read a newspaper, all the while spying on some teenagers gathered not too far from where I was parked.  Rolling my window down allowed me to tune in to their conversation which went something like this:  "Call him for me."  "No!  I'm not calling him. You call him!"  "No. You."  "He's not my boyfriend!  You call him."  "No, you!"

I'm sure you'll be shocked to learn that my windows quickly came back up not because of this stimulating conversation but because the mosquitoes sucked six pints of blood from my arms while I was trying to hear this riveting exchange.

Yes, it's almost November and we still have mosquitoes the size of chicken hawks.

Yes, I'm 45 years old and the most exciting part of my day involves eavesdropping on teenagers' conversations that are as mind-numbing as the list of ingredients on a box of Twinkies.

Somebody save me. When did this become my life?

Now it's your turn to share. In addition to your three things, can you tell me one exciting thing you did yesterday? Seeing as my definition of exciting involves spying on teenagers while mosquitoes eat me alive, I'm sure you'll have no problem thinking of something.

Silent Sunday

This is a sister to Thursday's photo. The swiftness with which the sky changes at sunset (and sunrise for that matter) never ceases to amaze me.

I have much to talk about and no time to write at the moment. Some of the things planned for upcoming posts include Blog Fest 2010 (July 15-18); a quaint little waterfront trailer for sale; the tale of a wonderful gathering of high school friends; and an update on our neighborhood gathering yesterday that may or may not have included Elvis parachuting in.

There is never--ever--a dull moment in Mathews.

Three Things

This relaxing scene is from last weekend's camping trip over on the other side of the Chesapeake Bay. I contemplated wading out to that little boat and taking it for a spin, but only for a second.

Anyway.

Today is Thursday, which means it's Three Thing Thursday, where I share three things and you share three things.

1. When did June arrive? Have we skipped some years months? Wasn't it just Christmas? Easter?

2. In any case, if it's June that means it's time for me to focus on Blog Fest 2010, July 15-18, when bloggers from all over the map will descend on little old Mathews County. Over the weekend I'll try to concoct a Blog Fest-related post, but the bottom line is--if you're interested in coming, just e-mail me at ChesapeakeBayWoman@gmail.com so I can get your information and keep you up to date on what is happening and the schedule of events, which of course we haven't figured out yet.

3. I am thrilled to announce that the very kind people at Terro, who make all sorts of ant annihilating products, have offered to send me some free samples of various ant-killing products since my liquid bait traps no longer seem to be enough to stop the influx. Oh, how eagerly I await this package. Hopefully it will arrive before the ants stage their coup, which they're slowly building up to every hour of every day that passes.

Now it's your turn to share three things, whatever you want; anything at all.

As long as it's not covered in ants.

Camping

Above is a shot of the Chesapeake Bay from Aaron's Beach in Mathews County. On the other side of the bay on the Eastern Shore, the Chesapeake Bay Family camped this past weekend.

I survived!

There's been no time to download and upload and load and unpack and pack and all that stuff, so I don't have photos yet (or a functioning lower back).

I do have a mathematical equation to kick off the week.

See if you can solve this addition and subtraction problem.

Ready? Begin.

Butterscotch pudding for breakfast
Because really, why not?
2 showers, 4 days
1 broken bicycle chain
1 community bathhouse
Minus any toilet paper by Day 3
No natural disasters!
No trips to the E.R.!
1 delightful sunset viewed from rafts while floating on the bay with son and daughter
1 putt putt golf game which daughter didn't win, so subtract any possibility of fun for the remainder of life the afternoon
1 uninvited raccoon eyeballing the smores at the campfire
0 ants!
18,692 people from another planet New Jersey and Pennsylvania stuffed into two small tear drops swimming pools
1 dead fiddler crab at the camp site
0 TV + 0 internet + 0 video games + forced family interaction
4 days of listening to Teenager Music
0 vegetables in 4 days, unless you count french fries and I do
0 fruit in 4 days, unless you count wine, and I do

When added up, this represents a priceless weekend with my two favorite kids--and an ardent desire for a shower which doesn't require flip flops.

Bonus Question: What are the odds that with 18,692 campers spread out over 600 or so acres I'd be a mere two campsites down from three people I work with? Anyone?

The math portion of this post is now over.

How was your weekend?

Eastern Shore

This picture, from Cherrystone Campground over on the Eastern Shore, is from a 2008 camping trip, when I'd only been taking pictures for a few months. That particular year I took so many sunset photos it was ridiculous, and here lately I haven't taken a single one.

Chesapeake Bay Son, Daughter and the entire Eastern Seaboard I are camping here this weekend, and hopefully there will be many sunset photos--and no hurricane disaster scenes--to share when we return.

Have a fabulous weekend full of relaxation and laughter.

Conversation with a Cormorant

Cormorant (rolling eyes): Oh no, not her again.

Chesapeake Bay Woman: Hi, Mr. Cormorant!

Cormorant: How do you know I'm a cormorant?

CBW: I don't. I'm just making an educated guess.

Cormorant: Did you know cormorants don't talk?

CBW: Who says they don't?

Cormorant: Most sane people. Normal types who don't have conversations with aquatic birds and then post said conversations on the internet.

CBW: I never claimed to be one of those.

Cormorant: Clearly.

CBW: What are you doing over the upcoming Memorial Day weekend?

Cormorant: What part of "cormorants don't talk" did you not understand?

CBW: All of it.

Cormorant: You have issues.

CBW: And yet you keep talking to me. Anyway, Friday I am leaving for the Eastern Shore to go (drum roll) CAMPING.

Cormorant: Oh no. Not that. Haven't you learned from past camping trips that all you're asking for is a disaster such as a hurricane, a tropical storm, a nor'easter, an insect infestation, a thrown-out back, a case of almost-appendicitis, sweltering heat, jungle humidity, crowded bathhouses or all of the above--and worse more?

CBW: And your point is...?

Cormorant: Gotta go. Have to call my friends over on the Eastern Shore and tell them to get out of Dodge, or at least out of the greater Cheriton/Cape Charles vicinity, before the Disaster Magnet arrives in town on Friday.

CBW: Party pooper.

Since I could easily continue this conversation for a minimum of three days without taking a breath, I'm forcing it to come to a merciful conclusion.

But in two days the Chesapeake Bay Children and I *will* be going camping, and although I'm getting very excited, there is a small part of me that is a little nervous based on past disasters experiences.

Stupid cormorant.

How will you be ushering in the start of summer? Has anyone heard the extended forecast for the Eastern Shore? Are locust swarms predicted?

Eyre Hall, Part II

This is the view from Eyre Hall's formal garden looking towards Cherrystone Creek. This is the real Eyre Hall, not to be confused with the other Eyre Hall another stately mansion nearby.

For details on this other lovely mansion that was definitely not Eyre Hall, see yesterday's post, where Chesapeake Bay Woman trespasses spends half a day frolicking with wild horses while wandering aimlessly around someone's exquisite property.

Here's what the main house looks like. As you can see it is immaculately maintained, which was one clue that I was in the right place.
(The other clue was a sign with an arrow pointing to the gardens.)

The colonial-era house is surrounded by an oyster shell driveway, white fences, numerous adorable outbuildings and one absolutely stunning garden loaded with huge boxwoods just brimming with that smell that lets you know you're stepping back in time.

Much to my surprise, the ruins of an old brick building stood just outside the gardens, facing the water near the Eyre family cemetery--which contains graves dating back to the 1700s.

Note: My hasty editing ruined/blurred this particular shot of the remains of a structure known as the orangery:
If you're wondering:

(a) how on Earth I knew this was called an orangery;
(b) what on Earth an orangery is;
(c) why on Earth you should do anything but fall asleep right now; but also
(d) how many times CBW can say the word "orangery" in one post,

the short answer comes from Wikipedia. Evidently an orangery is a greenhouse or conservatory found in certain 17th-19th century houses:

"The orangery, however, was not just a greenhouse but a symbol of prestige and wealth and a feature of the garden, in the same way as a summer house, folly or "Grecian temple". Owners would conduct their guests there on tours of the garden to admire not only the fruits within but the architecture without. Often the orangery would contain fountains, grottoes, and an area in which to entertain in inclement weather."

Thank you, Wikipedia. Is anyone still awake?

Below is another glance towards the creek from one of the Parthenon's windows the orangery's windows.

Orangery might be my new favorite word. May I bring you a blanket or pillow?

And here's a glimpse of those gorgeous boxwoods with that heavy, earthy, intoxicating smell. The garden was one big maze of boxwoods surrounding mini secret gardens, loaded with flowers and exotic plants, and benches sprinkled throughout. I could spend an eternity just sitting and absorbing the sights and smells of this place.
For a little more background on Eyre Hall, my BFF Wikipedia says this:

"The property where Eyre Hall is located was first patented to the three sons of Thomas Eyre I in 1668 and included 1,600 acres. A 700 acre tract was purchased by Littleton Eyre, a great grandson of Thomas, in 1754 with the purpose to build a family seat and a working plantation. The original structure built in 1760 was a 41-foot-square structure and was a 2 1/2 story wooden home.

The property grew periodically over the years too, as a a dairy was built in 1760 and a smokehouse was built around 1806. The house is surrounded by boxwood gardens, and formal lawns and fields that melt away into the Cherrystone Creek. On the grounds is also a walled garden from the 1800s, the Eyre family cemetery, and the ruins of an orangery from 1819."

Am I the only person who is still awake? had never heard of an orangery?

Eyre Hall, Part I

A while back I read a magazine article about an estate called Eyre Hall over on the Eastern Shore, which is on the other side of the bay from Mathews (about 10-15 miles as the crow flies, but about 2 hours as the car drives).

Every now and again I'll get over to the Eastern Shore and have seen the sign for the historic home, but I always thought it was private property. According to the article, the gardens are open to trespassers the general public. So yesterday, on my drive home from Delaware, I decided to stop in and take some photos.

After a long drive down a lane riddled with pot holes (odd, I remember thinking at the time, because the article made the place sound immaculately kept), I came to the entrance gate and was stunned to be greeted by the horses above, who evidently had broken out of their fence and were trotting across the driveway in front of me. There were five or six of them running wild all over the property.

Strange, I thought.

There was nobody else around, so I pulled over on the grass and wandered around with my camera. The house itself was massive, and incredibly beautiful, but very, very much....in need of maintenance. The article said the house was normally closed, so I wasn't expecting that to be open, but I also wasn't expecting it to be so...in need of maintenance.

Perhaps they focus their resources on the gardens, I told myself.

Below is a shot from where I parked my car. Notice the holes in the windows and the shutters hanging off leaning against the house.

At this juncture most normal people might conclude that they were in the wrong place, but not Chesapeake Bay Woman, who is anything but normal kept wandering all over the grounds in search of this secret public garden.

This magnificent home on an enormous amount of land is on Cherrystone Creek, which leads out to the bay. I wandered all over admiring the views the waist-high grass and the charming outbuildings.

Still, I couldn't figure out where the gardens were.

The more I wandered around, the more perplexed I became. Why would they publish a magazine article advertising magnificent gardens that were so difficult to find?

Perhaps the photo below can begin to convey the state of affairs at these "Open to the Public" formal gardens:

Finally, Chesapeake Bay Woman returned to her car with a camera full of delightful pictures of a beautiful, stately, waterfront manor whose windows were smudged with her noseprints. Her fingerprints may even be on the locked doorknob, who knows.

But alas she had no photographs of the much touted formal gardens.

Little did she know that the reason she had no garden photos is because this was the wrong house.

Dear Property Owners, I had no idea. I think swear the sign at the end of the road said Eyre Hall. But really, your place is gorgeous. You might want to make sure the horses stay out of the road, though, You never know when some frizzy-haired woman might drop by unannounced and unknowingly trespass startle them.

If I hadn't eventually found the real Eyre Hall, I'd still be wondering why I couldn't find the gardens at this first house.

The whole experience was surreal. Truly.

Sort of like last weekend's Womanless Beauty Pageant:

Stay tuned for photos from the real Eyre Hall and the gardens, which not only exist but are truly works of art, just like those biceps on Lady #6 above.

My Tree

This was the view from our campsite during last week's vacation. The pond is for pedal boating. Just beyond that tree is the Chesapeake Bay. Nothing but water for miles on end. Interestingly enough, if you were to go straight across the bay from about this point, you'd hit Mathews County. And a whole lot of choppy water. But no ants.

This tree and I became very close on my so-called vacation. I sat and stared at it for hours and days on end. It spoke to me; I spoke back. I studied every single limb and marveled at the ever changing sky in the background. I am amazed how soothing it is to simply sit,daydream and focus on one gorgeous thing. You forget your worries, your ant infestations, the scorching heat, the hurricane-force winds with horizontal rain, and the lack of personal hygiene due to having to walk to the state of Delaware to get to the community showers. As a reminder, I am speaking of my "vacation" here.

I could post a different picture of My Tree every day from now until Christmas.

Speaking of Christmas, here's what I want this year: the Orkin Man.