Sand Bank

At long last, just when we thought we could take it no more,

the clouds parted and the sun came out yesterday.

Since it was not only a federal holiday but also Still No Work Due to Government Shutdown Day 4,692,

I found myself at home with not much to do, so I forced myself out to take pictures.

It'd been a while since I'd been to this neck of the woods, and it was a beautiful day for a visit.

If you have any sort of fear of cormorants, this wouldn't be the place to go.

I've never heard of a fear of cormorants, but then again,

I'd never heard of a fear of clowns until the past five or six years ago.

So you never know.

Someone out there may have cormorantaphobia.
(Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

If so, it's my duty to warn you about Sand Bank.

They're everywhere. Just waiting to pounce.

If you are not a cormorantaphobe, please take a drive 

down Route 602, Sand Bank Road, for a glimpse at the old wharf

and the beautiful bay.

Note:  References to pouncing cormorants and cormorantaphobia are brought to you by 

the giddiness of a sunny day and Week Three of unemployment. 

Horn Harbor Nursing Home

Just off the road leading to Sandbank down New Point sits the former Horn Harbor Nursing Home. Although I'd heard of the nursing home, I'd never been there before and was startled to see its condition.  In spite of its state of disrepair, the nursing home facade has many photogenic features.

Almost all the windows are framed by weeds and vines.

This lonely old ladder leans lifelessly against the exterior.

The building struggles to look alive even as dead weeds choke it out.

 There's all sorts of graffiti on the inside.

(Not that I went inside or anything.)

(Well, maaaaaybe I was in there for just the quickest second or two to take this picture. It's hard to say for sure.)

Just down the way from this nursing home lives a flock of domesticated geese that look exactly like Killer Goose Gustav.  I was so shocked at the sight of that many Gustavs concentrated in one area, that I lost all my wits and failed to take a photo of them. But rest assured there were Gustavs comin' at me from every which way.

I'm thinking the next time ol' Gustav gets loose and swims up Queens Creek, I'll point him in the direction of Horn Harbor rather than risk life and limb trying to herd him back home to my parents' house next door.

Click here if you missed that hour of my life that I can never get back that gripping saga.

Have a great, nursing home free goose-free Monday.

Sandbank

One of the first places Johnny Pugh took me on our excursion last week was the site of the former Sandbank Wharf which lies at the end of Route 602.

There's not much left of it thanks to a series of storms, including the hurricane of 1933.  Referencing that storm, the book History and Progress, Mathews County, Virginia, compiled by the Mathews Historical Society, says "Practically all wharfs and steamboat landings in the county were either badly damaged or entirely wrecked, and the loss to oil companies with distributing stations on the waterfront was severe."

Johnny provided several photos of Sandbank back in its heyday for use in my book.  Chances are good I'll be able to use them, assuming they meet the publisher's specifications (mainly for size - the quality of the photos is excellent), but for some odd reason they will not upload to this blog post. I was really hoping to provide a glimpse of what this wharf looked like back in the day.

(I get a "server rejected" error if anyone still awake reading troubleshoots these things.)

If I weren't so tired from all the running around today, I'd figure it all out.  And by that I mean I'd have Chesapeake Bay Son help me. And when I say help me I mean I'd walk away and let him figure it out because I lack the required patience.

But he's asleep after a very long soccer game played on a field so long it spanned from Williamsburg to Toano in temperatures and winds rivaling the Arctic tundra.

Although not much remains of Sandbank, I still find the place hauntingly beautiful.

A few questions for this fine Wednesday:

1.  If you are from this area, what do you know about Sandbank and/or the storm of 1933?
2.  Is there anything more soothing than blue skies, blue water and white sand? If so, please let me know whether a passport is required and how soon I can come for a visit.
3.  How is it possible that a person who once wrote college term papers in three different languages cannot figure something out that her teenaged son would intuitively know and fix in a matter of seconds, all the while chuckling under his breath at his mother's ineptitude?
4. What tips do you have for mothers who obviously have never attended night soccer games in Siberia cold, far away places?  Evidently blankets are standard and folding chairs are not.  All those years of Saturday morning YMCA soccer games did nothing to prepare me for high school sports.
5.  Have a wonderful Wednesday.