Scenes from Gwynn's Island

From public landing at Sea Breeze

These photos have several things in common.

Callis Wharf

They were all taken yesterday during an early morning jaunt to Gwynn's Island.

Edwards Creek

They're all of wooden boats.

Off S. Bay Haven Drive

And they were all taken by someone who has been so fatigued here lately, she wonders if she has Lyme disease or equine encephalitis or some rare virus transmitted by the fiddler crabs or the crab-apple-eating Canada geese which infest inhabit her yard.

But more than likely she has just seen one too many episodes of Mystery Diagnosis, which seems to be the only show worth watching the one or two times a month she actually turns on the television set.

Anyway, she will now slip back into the first person and say that I hope you enjoy the weekend.

I really don't feel like doing anything hope to catch up on yardwork and perhaps some sleep.

Are you doing anything exciting?

Three Things

Glimpse of the barn near the public landing at Harcum.

Welcome to Three Thing Thursday, where we share three or more things related to whatever is catapulting around our addled brains:  frustrations, observations, proclamations, exclamations, obfuscations, realizations, special occasions, questions, statements, sentiments, predicaments, commitments, resentments, current events, and Oh, for cryin' in a bucket, CBW, just get on with it!

Well then. Since some people seem to be in such a hurry, let's begin.

1. Several weeks ago, I ran into someone I hadn't seen in 30+ years.  Just a few short sentences into the conversation, he asked me how my three daughters were.  That's because he thought I was Chesapeake Bay Mumma, who happens to be 23 years older than I am.

2.  This week the doctor's office neglected to call me back with the results of some recent blood tests.  Coincidentally (?), my mother (who has cholesterol concerns) came over to say the very same doctor's office declared her test results to be spectacular. When I called to inquire about my blood work (cholesterol was not one of my concerns),  they determined there had been some confusion based on our same last names and more. It's truly a very long story involving a Big City Regional Hospital.  The Little Local Doctor's Office was not to blame. Nevertheless, when you add (1) above with this, you can see where a person named CBW might start to get a complex.

3.  Not too long ago, an invitation to join AARP appeared in the mailbox.  With my name on it.  My name. Not my mother's name, my name. And a complex, weighing in at 4,000 psychological pounds, was officially born. Pass the cigars.

3b.  Just shoot me now.  When you reach a certain age and things start to fall apart;  when every little ache and pain is translated into the first sign of The Big One, Elizabeth (I'd love to link to an audio clip of Fred Sanford but can't find one); when people start confusing you for your mother and you receive invitations to join AARP, you realize a few things, including:

a) Your mother looks great for her age.  

b) You look great for your mother's age.  

c)  Except, oops, you aren't your mother's age.

d) BLEEPITY BLEEEEEEEP!

The End.

Now it's your turn.  Please share three things or twenty three things, and if only one of those things are tips for hiding wrinkles, well then bless you.   

Boats

We see all sorts of boats on our creek. Sail boats; power boats; skiffs; workboats; canoes; kayaks; dinghies; and the occasional yacht.

When my sisters and I were kids, our father even had an airboat, which is a nightmare of a story I shared a few years ago. Airboats are meant for skimming over shallow water--like the Everglades, for example--not whipping across deep water in high winds. (Click here to read about that delightful contraption).

We even have a guy who stands on some sort of a surfboard-looking thing and pushes his way around the shoreline. He seems to love it and is always very jovial. I like the word jovial even though it rarely applies to my disposition.

But very few boats come up in our cove because it dead ends, there's not a lot to see, and at low tide the depth of the water can be an issue, particularly for larger boats.

Recently some boats ventured up in our cove that were rather unusual, including the huge one below, which was docked at our neighbor's house for a party. It was quite the shock to open the door and see this even though it appears perfectly at home if you didn't know any better. Boats this big just don't come up our cove.


But I don't think anything could have prepared me for this one, which also ventured into our cove. Could someone tell me what this is? And are those fishing rod holders on top or exhaust pipes? Bueller?


I've only seen this thing once, and I'm extremely curious. I really want to drive it even though I'm not so sure about it...

But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw this evening after the thunderstorms passed. It was a canoe. With an outboard motor on the back. So help me.

Regrettably the camera was out of reach but even if it were I think my memory card is full, which is exactly the opposite state of my memory cells is why my camera isn't talking to my computer. I won't be able to address this little dispute they're having until the weekend, so no new photos until then, including the delightful ones from Blog Fest.

Speaking of Blog Fest, I'm in a huge post-Blog Fest depression. Also, the hypochondriac in me is telling me I'm afflicted with some deadly lung disease or throat cancer due to a dry, hacking cough that won't go away and an overall feeling of malaise.

Somebody tell me something funny (but rated PG13, please. An anonymous comment was left overnight that was more of an R rating, and my children sometimes read.)

Tour de Chesapeake

Above is the historic Mathews Court Green on a recent Saturday morning just before the Farmers Market opened up. The buildings which make up the court green date back to approximately 1795, the same year I was born.

While that may be a slight exaggeration, try telling that to my Vitamin D deficient blood. This is a topic for another day, though, this whole Vitamin D thing.

Anyway, the stately white building in the background has been many things over the years: a hotel; the home of 1930s MGM "Goldwyn Girl" Toby Wing-Merrill; and a daycare. Now it's a lovely restaurant, bar and B&B called the White Dog Inn.

What I really wanted to discuss today, though, is Vitamin D deficiencies have been associated with all kinds of horrendous diseases, and I'm convinced I have all of them this weekend's Tour de Chesapeake.

Tour de Chesapeake is an annual Mathews County event in which every single bicyclist this side of the Mississippi, north and south of the Maxon Dixon Line, descends on our nice, flat, below-sea level, fiddler crab infested roadways. They bring their children, aunts, crazy uncles, siblings, step siblings, Sunday School teachers, and BFFs--and they're all wearing spandex and helmets. On bikes. In the middle of the road.

It's more than just a little frightening when you're driving down to the court house to pick up a loaf of bread and you're not expecting the onslaught of bikes, helmets, fanny packs and brightly colored spandex.

However, this is a fun event for the bikers, and a portion of the proceeds are donated to the Chesapeake Bay Foundation. The participants also bring a great deal of revenue to the local businesses, which we love. Then they leave. And we love that too. Hi, bikers! We really do love having you in our county, honestly.

The bike routes range from 20 to 80 miles in length. I didn't know there was eighty miles to be found in Mathews.

Best of all for us locals is there will be music. And food. And music. I believe something is planned for Saturday night next to the very court green pictured above, however the Tour de Chesapeake website's information is from 2008.

I might be Vitamin-D deprived, but I do know it's not 2008.

This week's Gazette Journal will no doubt have all the particulars.

Anyway, a big Welcome to the County to the millions many cyclists coming to Mathews this weekend, and a fair warning to any residents needing to make a trip into town this weekend:

Get to the Food Lion before noon on Friday unless you're prepared to box people out in the snack aisle.
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Have you ever done any serious bicycling or participated in an organized cycling event?

If you were cycling down the road with your family and all of a sudden a herd of killer fiddler-crabs jumped from the bushes and scurried across the road, what would you do?

If a lone cyclist-- overtaken by horseflies and mosquitoes in the swamps of New Point-- screams but nobody hears him, does he make a sound?