Heron

This heron was trying to blend in with the pine trees and marsh grass at Bethel Beach when I visited a while back.

I remembered taking quite a few pictures but  never got around to looking at them until today, more than a month later.

I can't believe the last time I posted was December 31.  

And how did it get to be February 11 already?

They say time flies when you're having fun, but January and February are never fun months for me.  They're typically the longest, darkest, coldest, most-indoors-est, least sunshiny-est time of year. I leave for work in the cold darkness and return home in the cold darkness.

There are signs that things are changing, however, and hope is on the horizon.  The daffodils in my front yard are poking through the cold, hard ground, and all of a sudden I'm noticing more songs from the birds.

The Chesapeake Bay Family has been plodding along mostly uneventfully.  My children, my parents and my sisters are all doing OK.  Son is currently teaching English to six-year-olds in Madrid.  He's headed to Machu Picchu in the summer to work for a company called Global Leadership Adventures (he also worked for them last summer in Costa Rica).  I'm seriously considering a visit if the stars and planets align.

I'm also looking forward to a cruise the end of March, a 70s music themed cruise .  It's my reward to myself for surviving these dreary months of January and February. 

Other than making the arduous trek from Mathews to Williamsburg during the work week and laying low on the weekends, there's not much else to report.  I just wanted to check in and make sure I still knew how to blog.  I do. 

I hope all is well in your world.

Beachland II

Over the weekend, the owners of historic Beachland held an estate sale.

Beachland is exquisite.

It's the sort of place where I could spend hours sitting quietly in the yard, 

admiring the sights and absorbing its essence.  

Beachland really needs to be the backdrop of a Hollywood movie.

(Dear Hollywood, I have the rough draft of a story already in mind. Although I'm approaching 50 and have never acted--except at every job I've ever held other than mother and then I really and truly was enthusiastic--please reserve a spot, however minor, for me in the film adaptation of this story. 
Thank you in advance, I really appreciate it. Love, CBW)

Anyway.

The ladies who own Beachland were kind enough to invite me over before the official start of their sale.

Although I was (and arguably still am) barely emerging from The Worst Grip of The Winter Doldrums Ever, I agreed to come over-- if for no other reason than to visit this place that makes me feel at peace and at home and to reacquaint myself with its wonderful owners.

While they were preparing for the sale, I parked myself in the dining room where all the books were staged.

One of the first things that caught my eye was a copy of the Mathews Journal, a predecessor of our weekly paper the Gazette Journal.

(To use a Mathews mathematical equation dating back a long ways, also representing the only math I can retain: Mathews Journal  + Gloucester Gazette = Gazette Journal.) 

Gingerly prying it from its protective plastic sleeve, I saw something highlighting the fact that it was the last edition of the Mathews Journal, which ceased to be in the year 1937. Having spent many hours conducting research in the archives of the Gazette Journal and at the library, where most of the Mathews Journal editions are on microfilm, I thought there might be some interest in this small piece of our county's history.

The long story short is that on Friday that document found its way back home to the offices of the Gazette Journal.

On Saturday I went back after most of the estate salers had had their fill and was thrilled to see a few tattered pages from another edition of the Mathews Journal still there.

Perhaps not this week (due to my schedule), but as time allows, I will share some stories from those tattered pages which I purchased and which include the obituary of my maternal grandmother's beau.


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I'm so grateful to know the current owners of Beachland and cannot thank them enough for letting me be an officer in the Beachland Admiration Society.  Click here or here for previous blog posts with pictures and stories of their gorgeous home.

Low Tide

These past several weekends have been busy, what with basketball games, birthdays, out of town visitors and evenings out with friends.

As a result, I've not had a chance to go on a decent photography adventure, at least not since I went trudging through the swamp in zebra boots a while back.

These were taken down Redart (Trader backwards) on my way home from the grocery store yesterday.

(By the way, the only place I go these days is to work, basketball games, and the grocery store. It feels like I'm buying groceries every single day of the week.  Who is doing all this eating? It's not like I'm feeding a family the size of the Waltons, there's just the three of us for heaven's sake.)

I hope to sneak in a tour around town for new photos later this week.

In other news, we are bracing for an Arctic blast.  No snow (unfortunately, because if it's going to be cold there may as well be snow in my opinion) but bitter temperatures made worse by the wind chill.

I can't wait for spring.

Williams Wharf

These are some more shots taken after my jog down Williams Wharf road the other day.  About a month ago I posted similar photos from this location.

However, I like these better because there's more color, and the sun is hitting the bricks there on the shoreline just so.

This rubble is from the recent demolition down there as they make way for a new boathouse. I'm more fascinated by the old than the new, though.

And that's all for today.

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For something a tad more exciting, visit my mother's post about turning a year older.