In Pursiut of Liberty

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Okay, so you probably looked at the title of this post and figured that it was going to be some sort of political post. If you were hoping that was what this post was about, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.

Mom and I decided to go on one final southeastern Georgia adventure before I left for Korea, and after considering several options, we decided to make for Liberty County. You’re probably wondering where Liberty County is, what’s there, and why we chose such a place to spend my last Saturday in the States. Well, it had a lot to do with a slick new brochure we pricked up recently, which advertised the Historic Liberty Trail - a driving tour between ten different historic sites within the county. After reading the brochure, we decided to go. (www.libertytrail.com) We didn’t have time to go to all ten sites, so we chose the four which appeared most promising, along with two others as backup plans. The Liberty Trail was well marked with large signs, so we didn’t have any trouble finding our way, although we did have troubles of another kind, as you shall see.

Our first stop was the Cay Creek Wetlands, which sadly was closed. Granted, after pulling out our brochure and perusing it closely, we discovered that it said the place was only open Monday through Friday. While we both thought that was somewhat of an odd schedule, considering people often like to stop at such parks on weekends, but that’s their choice. We did, however, notice that it looked as though no one had entered the facility in ages; the park’s driveway was quite in need of a mow, and its grass had obviously not been driven over in a long time. Not exactly the most auspicious of starts.

From the Cay Creek Wetlands we followed the Liberty Trail signs into the town of Midway in order to visit the historic Midway Church and the museum. The museum was housed in a cute little house, built in the 1950s in a replica of the traditional style of the area. (As all of the plantation homes in the area were destroyed during Sherman’s march to the sea during the Civil War, there was no *actual* period home available to house the museum.) The museum was small, but quite nice and full of antiques from the 18th and 19th centuries, and we were given a guided tour by the museum’s docent. She gave us the key to open the nearby Midway Church, which was built in 1792 (the original church on the site, built in 1756, was destroyed during the American Revolution). The church key was unbelievably huge (a replica of the original key, which is on display in the museum), and a bit tricky to work. It was a nice enough church inside, although after a year in Russia, where cathedrals are smothered in frescoes, mosaics and gold iconostases, and where the oldest cathedral in the town in which I lived dated from the 12th century, 18th century waspy churches don’t really do much for me. An interesting fact: Sherman and his officers stayed within the church when they occupied the city of Midway, and they used the walled cemetery across the street for corralling livestock.

Midway Church

Midway Church

Isn't that key absurdly big?

When we were returning the key to the museum’s docent, an elderly woman came into the museum’s office. She apparently volunteers at the museum. She began talking to the docent - told her that she had walked the full six miles from her home into town this morning (by that time it was almost noon, the heat was topping 100F and the humidity was stifling) because her car was in the shop. The docent told her that she shouldn’t be out walking, not because the heat or because of her age, but “because there are some mean spirited people around here.” People who run little old ladies over for fun? Who knows!

My mom really wanted to visit the Melon Bluff Nature and Heritage Preserve, so that was our next stop. (Well, we stopped for lunch in between, but I figure you don’t really need an account of fried shrimp and onion rings!) After reading the description of Melon Bluff both in the brochure and on their website www.melonbluff.com, it sounded like a fantastic place to visit. Unfortunately, we arrived to discover that the gates to the property were locked! There was a sign on the gate which said “open Saturdays 10-4” so we decided to leave the car on the side of the road and walk in; it’s not like the place has to be open for a person to go hiking! But, the trail had obviously not been hiked in a while, and was constantly crisscrossed by huge and sticky webs bearing rather gargantuan spiders. (I’ve always referred to this type of spider as a banana spider, but recently I learned that they’re actually Golden Orb spiders. Either way, they creep me out. Not that the creep factor stopped me from photographing them or anything.) We walked a little way, but since we didn’t know anything about the trail (its length, where it went, etc) as my car was parked on the side of the road, and as there were creepy spiders all over the place, we decided to turn around. When we got back to the car, we noticed that under the place on the sign where it said “open Saturdays 10-4” it read “September through May” -whoops. There certainly wasn’t anything like that in our Liberty Trail brochure... and we were also confused as their website had stated that they offer kayaking trips and other excursions during the summer, so how could they be closed all summer? Puzzling.

This picture gives me the shivers.

Our next stop was Seabrook Village www.seabrookvillage.org, which was supposedly a living history museum based on a turn of the century African American community from the area. We followed the signs onward, and were directed into a gravel area labeled Seabrook Village Parking. It sat alongside a house - one which looked to be around the same age as mine. While there had been a sign on the road, there were no signs of any sort near this house, which looked suspiciously like someone’s home. Not wanting to go up an knock on some poor person’s door, we decided to drive on to see if we could locate any of the village (according to the brochure, the village consists of 104 acres and eight restored period buildings). While we did see what looked to be some old buildings on the opposite side of the road further down the highway, they were not labeled in any way. The Liberty Trail brochure stated that the Village was open Tuesday through Saturday, information which was confirmed in a Seabrook Village brochure we picked up at our next location. Yet where was this place?

So, we decided to keep driving down the road towards our first “backup” destination, the Fort Morris State Historic Site. At least it was open! We did have a moment of confusion when we pulled into the park; there were signs which read that one needed to pay a fee in order to park, yet there was no entry-fee kiosk. Luckily, it was just an oddly worded sign; entrance fees were accepted at the site’s museum. The site was nice (far more interesting than the Laura S. Walker State Park in Waycross!) although small. We learned about the fort, originally built to protect the pre-Revolutionary town of Sunbury (which at the time rivaled Savannah as a port city, although now nothing is left of the town except for the fort and the cemetery). The fort wasn’t all that successful in protecting Sunbury, as it was captured during the war and burned by the British. All that’s left of the fort are some earthen ramparts - again, not that exciting after having worked for a year a stone’s throw from a thousand year old earthen rampart, although there are some nice views of the surrounding marshlands. We learned from the park ranger (who was really cute!) that the buildings we had seen in the Seabrook area were indeed part of the mythical Seabrook Village, but he said that as it was a privately owned facility, he’d heard it didn’t have the funds to maintain regular hours.

The site of Ft. Morris

Ramparts of Ft. Morris

Marshland view

Another marshland view

From Fort Morris we drove to our last destination (er, second backup...) of the day, the Sunbury Cemetery. It holds graves dating back from the late 1700s, which was interesting, although it was oddly maintained. Fences had been erected around family plots in such a way as to obscure viewing of the faces of the stones. It almost looked as if the stones had been re-erected backwards, which was rather creepy.

Sunbury Cemetery

We left the cemetery and began our drive back towards Midway. We hadn’t gone far when we saw what looked like an old brick gate-post. Now, the ranger had told us that nothing remained of Sunbury, but we decided to check it out anyway. We drove down to the water and discovered the remains of a terraced garden leading down to the river, where the remains of a dock and boathouse were located. There were also the burnt remains of the foundation of a home. From looking at the brickwork, we didn’t think it was too old; I thought 1960s, mom thought 1950s, although its location and the fact that it wasn’t labeled was intriguing. Then, as mom and I were still exploring, I saw a truck pull in. It drove towards where she was, and to be honest, I was quite tempted to hide. Anyway, it turned out to be the owner of the property, who was none too pleased to find us there, although he did tell us that the facility was constructed in the 1940s, and it had been his parents’ house, terraced garden and dock. It was only after we all drove away that I had a brilliant idea: The terraced garden area would not take much to fix up, and it would be a perfect place to hold weddings. I’m definitely not the sort of person who looks at things and thinks of marriage, but I’d bet that with a little work, that spot could easily be turned into a place that people would be more than willing to rent for weddings, reunions, etc.

A view of the property

Another view

Archway in the middle of the terraced garden

Looking back up towards the "house"

Their view was spectacular!

We were both a little unnerved by having been caught trespassing, and we were also tired and dripping with sweat (kind of grossly, actually), and were ready to go home at that point, but we decided - what the heck - we’d stop at the Seabrook Village buildings on the way back and see what, if anything, there was to see. The buildings on the opposite side of the road from the parking lot area were indeed the Seabrook Village facilities, although it definitely was not a “living history museum” while we were there! We saw an old one-room school house (the first school for African Americans in the area), and as it was unlocked, we were able to go inside and look around. From there we walked to an old house. There were signs in front of it that showed how the building had been painstakingly restored. The front door was locked, but the back door was not only unlocked, it was wide open! We did avail ourselves of this opportunity to look around, although we did shut the door behind us. Talk about a place just asking for trouble! The second house was at least locked. There was a large restaurant/pavilion/gift-shop area, although it was completely devoid of life. Next to the pavilion was an old train depot, obviously moved in from somewhere else. I definitely climbed inside (although the wood was kind of rotten...) - you know how I love my old train artifacts - although it was simply being used for storage, and unlike the other buildings, it had not been restored at all. We decided to check at the building next to the parking lot. While a close-up inspection did not reveal any signs or information about the village, it was obvious that the house was some sort of office facility, probably associated with the Village - but, of course, it was locked and empty. (Upon returning home and checking their website, we learned that currently they’re only open Tuesday through Thursday, and their target audience is school-kids. This explains why the place was deserted, although it doesn’t really explain the lack of signage and the unlocked buildings!)

The one-room school-house

Restored Seabrook House

Old train depot

I await the Ghost Train

Yet again we set off for home, but as we approached the Melon Bluff Nature Preserve, we noticed that the gates were open and that about five cars were in the parking lot. So, we pulled in and knocked on the door. It was answered by a woman who looked quite confused to see us. Mom, who likes to go kayaking, asked for information about Melon Bluff’s kayak tours, and was told the best thing to do was to look online. Well, we’d already looked online, and thought we could find out more info by actually stopping by. Um, apparently not. In fact, the woman even said, “Well, I guess you could call the office and ask... but I work in the office and I bloody well can’t tell you anything about it!” Okaaaaaaay….. (Seriously, she said “bloody well”!) She also confirmed that the facilities were in fact closed during the summer, except for people who made reservations to come for special programs. Who the hell knows why she and her cronies were there. She also told us that Melon Bluff has another facility (“about two or three miles down the road”), which was only for guests. She said they shoot trespassers. She laughed to make it a joke, but still, it was strange. That and we’d just been (“about two or three miles down the road” and hadn’t seen anything labeled Melon Bluff. Bizarre.

That was the end of our bizarre series of adventures. The day didn’t exactly turn out anything like what we’d planned, although it misadventures certainly made it interesting. It almost felt like we were in the twilight zone or some sort of weird virtual universe where things only exist online and in brochures but not in reality...

Planes, Plumbers and Pipes

The plumbers came out today and spent about four or five hours crawling about under my house (the poor men were completely caked in dirt by the time they were done) and they installed my hard-pipe gas lines. So now, just a few short days before I head out to Korea, I have working gas at my house. Yippee! Better late than never. They said that the house was obviously built atop the ramins of a much older house which had burnt down, and that the remains of the previous home were quite visable from underneath. While I would love to see what's down there, after seeing the state in which all of the men emerged from down there, I guess it will remain forever a mystery.

Mom and I met another of my neighbors this morning. He's a retired Army man, really nice, who lives down the block from me. He was the other person who called the cops the other night when I called about all that ruckus next door. He told us that the group of people who had lived in that house before were pretty bad, but he figured they're renting, they'll move out eventually... then they did and this bunch moved in! Ahh well. If I had the money, I'd try and buy up the surrounding houses and then be *very* picky about who I rented to. Alas, I can't really fund that right now.

I talked to Gwen's travel agent this afternoon regarding my tickets to Korea. While they haven't been confirmed yet, it's pretty likely that this will be my itinerary:

Monday, July 31st: Spend the night in a hotel near the airport in Jacksonville, FL. Tuesday, August 1st: Leave Jacksonville at 7:25am. Fly from Jacksonville to Chicago to San Francisco to Korea-Incheon and finally to Korea-Daegu. Due to the crossing of the international date line, not to mention the time spent in transit, I'll be arriving in Daegu sometime on Thursday, August 3rd. Then, after a few days to recover and get situated, I'll start teaching on Monday, August 7th. Whew! Shall we start taking bets on whether or not my black suitcase makes it? (No suitcase travel harm!) Anyhow, just so you'll know where exactly I'll be, I've included this nice little map of South Korea for you to view. (Remember, I'll be in Daegu; Seoul and Busan are just on there for reference.)

time really does fly

This morning I got an email from Gwen saying that if everything works out with the consulate, I will probably be on a plane to South Korea this time next week. That's unbelievable. I knew I would have a little over a month to spend in Waycross, and somehow I thought that was going to be a long amount of time. Enough time for me to fully clean up my new house and even start painting it. Looks like I'm going to be lucky if I get it all cleaned before I go, and I guess painting's just going to have to wait until August 2007. And then there are my suitcases from Russia which should really be unpacked and sorted through before I begin re-packing for Korea...

Adventures in the hood

I am currently at my mom’s house, utilizing the (unbearably slow) internet while waiting for the arrival of FedEx. Soon I’ll be sending my final batch of paperwork to the South Korean consulate in Atlanta in order to get my E2 Working Visa. It hit me last night as I was filling out my visa application that I’ll be in South Korea (for the third time!) in something like 2 weeks or less, depending on how long the consulate takes to process this stuff. I need to get packing. Literally. Hell, I haven’t even fully unpacked from Russia yet.

But that’s not exciting; this is: Last night I got to call 911 for the first time in my life! I suppose I shouldn’t be writing it in a way that makes it sound like an adventure or something, but to be honest, I found the entire situation quite intriguing. I can definitely see the appeal of reporting from a war zone now. Well, not that I live in a war zone or anything, but...

If you’ve been following my blog from my arrival in Waycross, you’ll know that my neighborhood isn’t exactly the best or the safest or the most crime-free. Every night there are always people in the street talking, sometimes yelling, doing who-knows-what, and generally just hanging out on the street corner in front of my house. (Between the fact that my house is lit-up like a prison at night and the fact that I’ve got a city-owned street lamp on the corner of my property, I live in the most well-lit portion of the neighborhood, and that seems to be where everybody hangs after dark.) I’m pretty much accustomed to the noise; after living under the flight line of the San Diego airport for two and a half years, and after spending a year in an apartment located on the busy Prospekt Lenina in Vladimir, I can tune a lot out. But every now and then, something gets me interested in the goings on outside, and, being that I’m kind of nosey, I spy. (I’ve perfected the techniques of observing my neighbors without being observed. I tried to film them with my webcam, but sadly it’s too low-res to get anything. I may try with the actual video camera one of these days. I wish I’d had it last night!) Anyhow, last night I was in bed reading, when the general hubbub on the street rose well beyond its normal level, so I turned out my lights in order to spy. (If you leave the lights on, people outside can tell that there’s someone at the window.) There were a lot of people on the street in front of my house and the house next door (you know, the people who were stealing my electricity here and here). There were at least 15 people, if not more. There were also two cars in the street. People were shouting, although I couldn’t make out complete sentences or anything, so who knows what it was about. At some point one of the people said something involving the word “gun” (although I wasn't sure) and then the cars drove away. There were still a lot of people out in the street, lots of talking but no more shouting... then suddenly one of the women shouted loud enough for me to hear “Oh my god, here they come!” and everyone outside ran inside and shut the door. A silver car pulled up in front of their house and stopped the door opened and I could hear voices. I heard a very fast series of clicks - clickclickclickclickclick - although I have no idea what made these clicks. Then a man got out of the car and walked towards their house. The first thing I noticed about him was his hair: it was longer than most black men around here wear their hair (about chin length) and it was in braids. Then I noticed that he was shouting. Then he got up right next to their porch, and under their porch light. That was when I noticed that he had a gun (a small handgun) which he was pointing at their house as he continued to shout. At that point I grabbed my cell phone in one hand, my dog in the other, and scurried off to the bathroom to call 911. (Isis the cat was sound asleep under the bed throughout all of this.) Of course, the 911 operator wanted to know the make and model of the car, but all I could tell them was that it was silver. I explained what I’d seen and she asked if I wanted to talk to an officer. Um, sure, okay. So, they sent someone out. It took about three minutes, which was pretty good timing, although by the time I got off the phone with 911, the man with the gun and his silver car were gone. I got to explain all of this to the cop (apparently I wasn’t the only one who’d called it in, although I was the only one who’d agreed to talk to an officer). He knocked on the door next door, although at that point I was on the phone with my mom (who asked me if I wanted her to bring over her new Taurus handgun. Mmmm, no.), so I don’t know if anyone answered over there or not. My guess is not, as he was over there for less time than he spent with me, and that hadn’t been that long. Then he left, leaving me kind of feeling as though calling the cops had been somewhat useless. Shortly thereafter, someone ventured out onto the porch next door and turned off the porch light. A little while later, some people left and rode away on bikes, and that was the end of the night’s excitement.

And, after all that, I’ll let you go with some warm and fuzzy pet images.

After I unpacked my new dishes, Isis took-over the box.

This is what I wake up to in the morning.
(Note the blurriness of the wagging tail,
and Isis in the background looking on disdainfully)

visits, ladybugs and dogs

My father came up for a visit this weekend, which was nice. We bought a bunch of new stuff for my house and unloaded the free (and unbelievably heavy) desk that my mother found for me on FreeCycle, so my office is now quite office-like. He got to meet the new dog (she’s quite an attention whore; she kept running from me, to my mom, to my dad, back to me, etc, etc), and so of course, I got a bunch of cute pictures. I took him to the Okefenokee Heritage Center, which is a wonderful museum located here in Waycross. (I try to go to the Heritage Center every time I’m home, mainly because it has an incredible old steam train - complete from engine to caboose - on display, and you know how I love trains!)

Dad and Elphie

Mom and Elphie

Me and Elphie

Me, on the caboose at the museum.
No, that's not photoshopped in; the caboose number is 0443.

On Friday night we went to the Waycross Applebees, which was quite a disappointment. They had a new Tuscan Shrimp Salad, which looked quite enticing. Now, I have a passionate hatred for Iceberg lettuce. In fact, I hated salads until I went away to college and learned that salads can come with things like Romaine and Baby Spinach. (Don’t laugh at me! Consider the redneck black hole in which I was raised. I’m not kidding when I say that every salad I was served prior to the age of 19 contained Iceberg lettuce. And even when I began to learn about *other* kinds of lettuce, I still pretty much avoided salads until the past few years.) Anyway, the picture of the Tuscan shrimp salad showed Romaine lettuce. Imagine my consternation when a plate full of Iceberg appeared in front of me! I couldn’t help myself; a horribly bitchy “There’s Iceberg on my plate” burst forth from my lips. I meant to suffer in silence, and I certainly didn’t mean for the waiter to hear it, but he did. He offered to take it back and have it remade with Romaine, and of course I agreed. Well, it came back with a thin layer of Romaine covering the iceberg and a ladybug crawling along one of the leaves! Probably most people would have demanded to speak with a manager, but honestly, a bug in my salad is a lot less disturbing than Iceberg lettuce. I got the thing onto my fork, and then my mom took it outside and deposited it on a bush. The salad would have been quite good had it not still consisted of mostly Iceberg. I ate all the yummy toppings and every scrap of Romaine I could find. When the waitress (she wasn’t the one who’d brought out the food, so I doubt she knew of the snafu) saw my plate she said, “My goodness! You ate everything but the Iceberg!” I just smiled and told her I didn’t like lettuce. She’s probably wondering why in the hell I ordered a salad.

As I mentioned above, we still have Elphie, the little dog. She really is too big to be a purebred Chihuahua, so perhaps she’s a Chihuahua-something else byproduct. My mom thinks she’s a rat terrier (follow the link, then scroll down - Elphie really does look just like some of them!). Who knows? If any of you out there are from the Waycross area and know anyone who is missing a little Chihuahua type dog, please let me know. She’s obviously accustomed to living in a loving home and getting a lot of attention - surely the family who trained her to be such a sweetheart wouldn’t simply abandon her! But, you never know; people do cruel and stupid things sometimes. I toyed with the idea of taking her with me to Korea - Gwen (for whom I’ll soon be working) has a Yorkie (I think - Gwen, correct me if I’m wrong!) and it’d be a lot of fun for the two of us to hang out with our little dogs... But then I started worrying about all the potential problems, like what if someone in the apartment complex complained about her barking or something... So I guess she’s going to stay here. She’s been having fun playing with the next door neighbors’ dog, Rock and with mom’s dogs. She tries to play with the cats, but (other than Ruffy) their reactions range from disinterested to violent, although Isis is starting to come around.

She likes to sleep on my pillow.

Elphie and Rock play through the fence

Rock's a cutie!

Jekyll Island and a Chihuahua

[Again, just a reminder: This post has a lot of photos. If for some reason they don't all load properly, simply right-click on the spot where the photo should be and select show picture.]

Yesterday mom and I went to Jekyll Island. One of the great things about living in Waycross (other than the fact that I bought a house so cheaply) is that we’re an hour from the beach. This means that we’re out of the way of hurricane catastrophes, but can still enjoy a nice day by the water. Apparently this was not my first trip to Jekyll Island; however, as the last time I was there I was two or three years old or something, it may as well have been my first visit. Let me just say that I was quite impressed; Jekyll Island is gorgeous, and has many different things to do to fit any price range. Mom and I only went for part of the day, although I think one could easily spend a week there without running out of things to do. (There’s a 20 mile bike trail which loops the island, going through some incredible scenery. There are plenty of beaches, different picnic areas, horseback riding, kayaking, historic mansions to tour, shopping, a water park, hiking trails, and camping, cheap hotels, resorts and the ultra-high-brow Jekyll Island Club Hotel and Resort. And the gorgeous scenery of the island is not impacted in any way by all the things just listed!) Anyhow, as we weren’t there too long we certainly didn’t partake in all of the things the island has to offer. We drove around the entire perimeter of the island, stopping to explore the ruins of the original plantation house of the island and the nearby cemetery, as well as to stroll along the beach before heading for SeaJay’s Cafe for a delicious lunch. Afterwards we visited the historical museum, stopped in a few shops where I bought a crazy orange hat, and then set out for the beach. I’m not really that much of a beach person. I don’t understand the appeal of laying out in the sun all day in order to acquire skin cancer, and while I can tolerate being pummeled by waves for a while, I’m not that big of a fan. Let’s just say that the beach at Jekyll was wonderful: the water was the perfect temperature, and the waves were at the perfect height and strength for simply floating and bobbing around (Melissa: remember “run, swim, stand, Bryan!”? These waves were perfect for Bryaning!) Mom and I floated around in these wondrous waters for quite a while. A wonderful day!

One of the beaches on Jekyll Island

Me, Jekyll Island

Mom, Jekyll Island

Crabbies!!!

A view through the trees and into the marshlands

The Horton House (former plantation house) built 1736

The DuBignon Cottage

Jekyll Island Club and Resort Hotel

Jekyll Island Club and Resort Hotel
(note the croquet lawn!)

Mom at the beach

me at the beach

View towards the intracoastal waterway

Me, along the intracoastal waterway
(South-west end of the island)

A few days ago someone abandoned a Chihuahua in my mom’s neighborhood. The people who live next door to her had been feeding it, but as they’re going away on vacation at the end of the week, they decided to take it to the pound. Yes, you can see where this is heading. I, a confessed cat-woman, am now the proud (er…) owner of a rather annoying, hyperactive Chihuahua that I’ve decided to call Elphie (as in the main character of Wicked). This dog is an unbelievably needy animal. It has already managed to displace 20lb Isis from her accustomed sleeping place on the pillow next to my head (why Isis simply doesn’t threaten to sit on her is beyond me) and the damn thing has a really annoying habit of peeing. On my new carpet (stain-resistant, luckily!), on my bed, and even on me when I picked her up. What the hell am I going to do with this rat? I must say, however, that it did hold off on pooping until it got over to my mother’s yard this morning. My mom’s cat Ruffy is one of the neediest animals I have ever met - and Ruffy and Elphie are quite a match, playing with each other and vying for my attention.

It's hard to get a decent picture of her
because she rarely holds still!

Elphie and Ruffy on my lap

Going somewhere?

Adventures in O-Town

[This post has a large number of photos. If some don't load, simply right-click on the image and select show picture.]

Sorry for the lack of postings of late... I’ve been out of town, visiting my friends Melissa and Alex down in Orlando. Friday morning I left Waycross around 11:30 or so in the morning and drove to the Evil Black Hole that is Lake City, FL. I swear, no matter what I do, I simply cannot escape that place. Not that I was there for long or anything. My purpose in making for LC was to meet with my friend Chris, who is currently there visiting his family. (See, I’m not the only one who can’t escape. Really, it’s a chronic problem; all former LC denizens suffer from it.) Anyway, I left my car at Chris’s and rode with him down to Orlando. [Alright, as much as I hate to do it, I have to actually post something specifically regarding Lake City. As I was driving towards Chris’s, I ran across the first of many very large signs depicting the face of a kid who went through middle and high school with me... Turns out he’s running for County Commissioner. I find that kind of disconcerting somehow. Nonetheless, I wish him luck.]

Anyhow, Chris and I drove to Orlando and arrived at Melissa and Alex’s new house. I guess it isn’t that new, as they’ve been in it what – two, three years? But, it was all new to me as this was the first time I was able to see it. I guess this is a sign that we’re really adults, having houses and all. I realize that the law has said that I’m an adult for almost a full ten years now, but it never really feels like it. Yet here we are, showing each other our houses. After dinner, we went for a nice long walk along the Econlockahatchee River near their home. There’s a really nice, scenic park along the Econlockahatchee and it was a great place for shooting photos, in addition to exercising. (Linda and Shaggy: There’s a really nice Y attached to this park!)

Limpkin (possibly) along the Econlockahatchee River

Econlockahatchee River

Sunset along the Econlockahatchee River

Melissa and I using the tall and short fountains at the Y

Melissa's cat Henrietta ("fatty")

Melissa's cat Henry ("orangie")

The next morning (er, well, afternoon... it’s not like we’re morning people or anything) we set off on our adventures of the day. Our first stop was Big Tree Park, home to the Senator, a 3500 year old cypress tree, one of the oldest in the world. The girth and height of this tree was quite impressive.

The Senator: 3500 years old
That little speck of turqouise at the bottom is Chris.

Me and the the Senator

Melissa and Alex and the Senator

Melissa, Me, Chris
(Former Lake City people with the Senator)

After leaving the Senator, we made our way to Cassadaga, Florida’s oldest spiritualist community. Now, being that the four of us are all a tad bizarre and periodically inclined to celebrate pagan or pseudopagan holidays, Cassadaga seemed like a logical destination; however, we were pretty disappointed. The “community” seemed more like a highly commercialized, trashy tourist trap. It did, however, have a decent park for picnicking, were we dined on homemade hummus (courtesy of Melissa) and yummy, non-iceberg salad. (Seriously, iceberg lettuce should be banned. That stuff is foul.)

The bulk of the town looked like this.
We made Chris pose in front of the Father Christopher sign.

There were many pretty flowers.

I matched some of them.

I thought this was awesome - way to go Mother Nature!

That evening, after some scrumptious Indian food, we went to Sea World. They were having a special event for members of the UF alumni association and their friends. (I being the friend, obviously, although this certainly wasn’t the first time I’d pretended to be associated with UF! PS, Go Sewanee!) Sadly, while we did get in for free, only a small portion of the park was open for this event. We didn’t get to see any animals, other than some incredibly animatronic looking penguins, and the only two rides that were open were Kracken - a ginormous roller coaster that I refused to ride - and Journey to Atlantis - which may have been incredibly cheesy, but was far more surprising than one might expect. But all in all, considering that it was free and that we had fun, I’d say it was a good deal.

On Sunday, we had planned to go to Wekiwa Springs. Unfortunately, as there wasn’t a cloud to be seen, and as the temperature was hovering around 100F, too many other people had the same idea. Due to the delicate ecosystem of the springs, only a certain number of people are allowed in the park at any given time, and when the park reaches the limit, access to visitors is closed. Annoyingly, instead of allowing those of us who wanted to swim in said springs to wait for someone to leave, we were simply turned around and told to try again later. I think we tried to enter the springs at least four separate times during the course of the afternoon, but to no avail. Sadly, we didn’t have a backup plan, so in the interim we drove aimlessly around a part of the area that none of us knew well. At one point we attended an open house for a $425,000 house (obviously out of our budget!) simply for something to do. Chris asked a fellow in a convenience store parking lot if there were any other “swimming holes” in the area – he gave us directions to another spring, although its park, too, was closed to overcrowding. Quite frustrating! That evening we tried to go see A Scanner Darkly at the Enzion, but it was sold out. Clearly not our day. Ahh well. On the bright side, we did get to walk around the UCF campus, which was quite nice. Apparently they’ve just finished up a lot of construction and landscaping, turning the campus into a really attractive place. They’ve done an excellent job landscaping, and have planted oaks strategically all over. Granted, these oaks are still pretty small, but eventually they will turn that place into a shaded paradise.

Sunset at UCF

The next morning, after dropping Alex off at work, Chris and I began our journey home. At Chris’s I spent a good deal of time playing with his new kitten. He found it abandoned and near death in the back of his parents’ property (someone probably tossed it over the fence) and nursed it back to health. It’s adorable and playful. I love kittens.

Isn't he adorable?

On my way back up to Waycross, I stopped in northern Columbia County to photograph an old, abandoned gas station along Hwy 441 that I thought was picturesque.

Old gas station

Formerly Chevron, apparently

Later, in Argyle, GA I stopped to photograph the old train station. Oddly enough, I think that this was moved here from the nearby community of Manor, although I don’t know why. I would have explored the train station more had I been wearing shoes other than flip-flops and had I not been in fear of surprising a bum or two all by my lonesome. I think it would be awesome to either restore the train station and turn it into a museum or to fix it up and convert it into a house.

You can tell that it's been moved to this location

I liked this shot.

I would totally live here.

Speaking of houses, there haven’t been any more incidents at my house, other than learning that the estimate from the plumber for hard piping is about double the rough estimate we got from the gas man. Ahh well. I’m feeding at least one stray cat - although I’m not going to try to catch it and bring it inside, as that would defeat my semi-allergy free environment. It’s orange, and if it ever doesn’t run like the wind when it sees a human, I’ll try and take a picture of it. I guess that’s all the news for now!