Beaufort

I gotta tell you, I still haven't recovered fully from the past three weeks. Sleeping way more than usual, but still not resting. Thinking about a memory foam mattress topper, but reviews and ratings are all over the place online, and since I have a chemical-free house and am bothered by the scents in the laundry detergent aisle at the supermarket, I'm really reluctant to buy something that seems to inherently have a bad odor that may or may not go away. Alas. But, I digress.  The title promises Beaufort, so let's get at it.

I've been in love with the idea of Beaufort for countless years. So many books by Pat Conroy and Anne Rivers Siddons are set in the area, and their tales and descriptions made it seemed like the ideal place for me. I can't remember if I ever mentioned the idea of moving there anyplace on this blog, but when I first began thinking of coming back east, Beaufort was on top of the list. I did lots of research, but couldn't afford a real visit. In the end, I opted against it because I thought it couldn't possibly live up to my expectations, and because it just didn't seem wise to move sight-unseen. After this visit, I have to say that the reality lived up to every possible romanticized expectation I ever had. I'm a water gal, let's just face that. I like being on or near or in sight of water -- as in oceans and bays and such.

The approach road to Beaufort goes through rural areas and then, finally, up on a raised causeway that gives infinite views of water, sea grasses, old wooden docks, islands, and more water. To me, it was utterly breathtaking. I fell in love instantly. A few more of these causeways take you over other islands and you finally reach Beaufort. Since I had no maps or anything to guide me, and since it was too early for the visitor's center to be open, I followed the road across a lovely bridge to Lady's Island and then St. Helena Island.

When I passed this intriguing old ruin, I simply had to stop and take a closer look.

A close up of the walls, showing the old-style building material of this area, which I believe is referred to as 'tabby'. That could be a memory error, but as you can see it's mostly seashells and sand.

This is what the ruin is. I just love all that lovely moss hanging everywhere!

So, after I toured this site, I headed back to town where I found a parking lot at the city marina then headed out on a walking tour of the famous section of beautiful old homes, many of them with waterfront locations. I walked for an hour and a half, following the outer maze of streets that led to water. Lots of dead-end streets that end at the water, and all thankfully preserved for public use and view by the City of Beaufort.

This photo was actually taken on Lady's Island, not far from the bridge back to Beaufort, but it's so evocative of the area that I have to include it.

This is part of a beautiful park that fronts the river near the marina. The bridge to Lady's Island is in the rear.

Another view of the same bridge, from a smaller park across the highway, at the beginning of the residential area.

I believe this was from the same small park, looking in another direction.

One of the many beautiful homes fronting the river.

Another -- with an intriguing garden.

From the end of one dead-end street or another.

These long, wooden docks abound, and I loved them. Almost every waterfront home has one.

Yes, this is on the water too, but it's generally not possible to get a photo of both the house and the water view.

This canal ran from an 'inner' area of the residential section on out to the river.

You probably think I've gone overboard on the beautiful old houses, but the ones I'm showing are only a fraction of what's there. This one is not waterfront, but it's a beauty!

Some are so well hidden by landscaping that it's impossible to get a solid view with a camera, but then, the landscaping is so lush and beautiful that it's not hard to look at! This was waterfront, to the rear.

I know -- another dock. But they are such a big part of what makes this area so intriguing and picturesque, to me. Lots of crabbing and shrimping and fishing and just plain fun happens on these docks!

A prime example of fun, although you can barely see any people (intentionally, on my part). There was a large group gathering. Kids jumping into the water, big party apparently about to happen. Did I mention it was Labor Day? As I walked away from this, I met a couple headed in that direction hauling a cooler and other stuff on wheels. I said something about a fun day in the making, and they told me there were FIVE birthdays being celebrated.

Yep another dock. I couldn't get enough of the entire scene.

Back at the city park by the marina, I was captivated by the lush, colorful and beautiful flowers that thrive so well in this semi-tropical climate.

Because it was approaching noon, and because I planned to have lunch in Savannah, I reluctantly left Beaufort behind and didn't explore more than the immediate downtown area. In retrospect, I should have done just that because when I got to Savannah it seemed as if half the world had decided to visit. Traffic, hordes of cars and people everywhere and not a parking space to be found. After 11 days in the quite of the meditation center, and a day in the quiet peace of Beaufort, it was all too much for me so after giving up on a parking space, I drove on out to Tybee Island, which was unfortunately just more of the same. I'll take Beaufort any day!

I'm not sure how realistic it is for me to even think about moving there. I spoke at length to another retired woman who lives on social security (and a part-time job), and she told me I could make it, offered a name and phone number of a friend who runs a real estate office out on Lady's Island. I haven't called yet, although I suppose I should do that before making any final decision. Still -- while Beaufort has the water that speaks to my heart, it won't be much different from where I am now in many ways: still a long drive from Bhavana in West Virginia, still conservative politically, still not likely to have the Buddhist community I seek. Asheville is the most logical in terms of all of these -- and it has mountains and the Nantahala River. But there's no way around the fact that it has colder winters, often with snow and ice. Beaufort has a fabulous year-round climate. So, lots to consider, but I have lots of time to do all that consideration so no need to make any decisions now. I do expect to head up to Asheville in the next couple of weeks to look at some of the possible places to live, get my name on some waiting lists.

But for right now, I'm still content to be right where I am.

MamaCat

As I sometimes do, I'm going to begin with conclusions before I tell the tale, because the conclusions are so much more important, more meaningful, than the mere tale itself.

First, while the entire saga was physically difficult for me, I am so utterly glad I went, and so grateful for the many changes I see within myself. I'm at peace. I'm content and equanimous even amidst the fatigue. I'm bothered by very little. Most of these changes were wrought during the past week of service, not during the 10 days of meditation. Some days I could feel the changes happening as I watched the process within myself. Yesterday, driving home and reviewing my time there as the miles passed by, I was shocked to actually realize that I felt love for myself, approval for myself. Of course, there is no self in Buddhism, but the warm feelings of love and approval arose, for the first time in my almost  70 years on this earth. That's no small thing, and it begins to heal an open wound that I've been aware of since my first Vipassana course almost 8 years ago. Being aware of the wound and closing the wound are two entirely different things. I can say with confidence that it's begun to close, and once begun, will hopefully continue to heal. That's big, people. Really big. Will all these changes last? It's hard to say. We're taught that everything changes, that nothing stays the same, and yet over these 8 years I've seen internal changes come and go as well as changes come and stay. I have a feeling that at least some of these changes -- perhaps the more major ones -- will stick around.

Secondly, I had the privilege to work with some of the most wonderful young people I've ever had the pleasure to meet, during this past week. Some of the changes in me are definitely a reflection of them, of the effect they had on me. Two of them were there from the beginning to the end -- Sam and Sarah, both of whom drove down from Pennsylvania just to serve for this week when they learned the center was in serious need of servers for the course. Both have been long-term servers here in the past.  Sam is an inspired cook who has a way with spices I can only envy. He's quiet, but as the days passed and we all got to know one another he opened up considerably. Sarah is just the opposite -- brimming full of bubbly joy, chatter and compassionate thoughtfulness and goodness. We had numerous good conversations since we had to spend our meal times secluded in the women's dorm. Both are young (young enough to be my grandchildren!) I now have another adopted granddaughter (Sherene at Aranya Bodhi was the first and she, too, is a Goenka student). I am just plain honored to know all of them. A couple of other young women came to help for a couple of days at a time, and they were lifesavers as well as also being fine and admirable youngsters. It's interesting, but I had the same reaction to these youngsters as I had to the young people I met at the Goenka retreat center in Onalaska,  WA every time I visited there. That conclusion is that if these young people are the future of this country, then we're in good hands. I can only hope the older generations will not destroy everything before these kids are old enough to be the majority, to change the general tenor for the  better.

I left early, because I was exhausted -- drained. Still, I'd been tired for several days and had held out because I couldn't desert these kids, couldn't leave them to do it all themselves, although I believe they could and would have made it happen. Looking back as I drove home, I realized that when I went back into the kitchen at 9 am after the morning sit and looked at the planning board, I saw that the majority of the work was over. Very few things needed to be done. We were finished with prep for future days because the next day is traditionally mostly leftovers, and everyone leaves early the day after that, with no food to be prepared. Reinforcements had also arrived the night before. Sam and Sarah suggested I sit out the morning, or even the rest of the course, so for awhile I sat on a stool and chattered (I do that when I'm tired). Then I went to my cabin to lie down and while I was there, realized I just really wanted to go home and sleep and rest. If I stayed, I'd still have the schedule to follow [three daily sits plus the 9pm meeting] and wouldn't get much sleep. And I needed to leave soon in order to beat Atlanta commute traffic, so I got up and started packing what little I had in the cabin, then walked next door to the office and told the management that I was leaving. They were supportive, concerned, because they understand how tired I've been. I got the car packed, had a last lunch with them and headed out. Had reinforcements not arrived I would somehow  have held out another couple of days, but I knew 'my kids' were going to be OK, going to have energetic help to finish these final two days, and it was OK for me to leave. MamaCat [me], who that day had turned into GrandmamaCat due to fatigue, sadly said goodbye. But I'll never forget them.

As for the rest of the story -- the 10-day retreat was surprisingly easy from a physical standpoint. A few creaks and squeaks from the old body here and there, but nothing major. Also surprisingly, no emotions came up needing to be dealt with. Mostly, I was just bored. I could get into the program here and there, even had some surprising and interesting results on a couple of sits, but all in all, I once again proved that this is not a technique I can get into on a full-time basis. For me, it's a tool, and a good one, but not a sole system of meditation. I had a great roommate and the only issues spun around the need for 30 women to share 4 bathrooms. Even those were minor. I met some super women, at least one of whom I hope to stay in touch with.

The fatigue began when the course officially ended around 7am on the second Sunday. At that point I became a server, rather than a student. I scrubbed down the bathroom I'd volunteered to clean, then ended up doing lots more cleaning in the dorm. I moved to the servers dorm and spent the better part of the day cleaning and doing laundry. Piles and piles of laundry: towels, sheets, cushion covers from the meditation hall, all kinds of things, in great quantities. Monday morning at 6am (having been accustomed to awaken at 4am) I crept out of the dorm and headed to Beaufort. I ended up spending that day driving so while it was exhilarating in some ways, it added to the fatigue. The next couple of days were spent helping prepare the center for the next course scheduled to begin on Wednesday. I never realized just how much work goes into the turnaround between courses! But, I got the laundry done, the men got lots of landscaping done, and by Wednesday (day 0) the place turned into a madhouse as local people showed up to help get the cooking started for the week, and for the evening meal. After that, it was full steam ahead until yesterday morning. I think my fatigue stemmed from a lopsided ratio of sleep to energy expenditure. The youngsters can sleep easily, during the long afternoon rest period. I couldn't. I could lie down and rest, but not sleep. We had a meeting with the teacher in the meditation hall each evening at 9pm after the evening meditation is over, so I couldn't get to bed early enough to recoup from pushing hard every day.

And speaking of sleep -- it's that time. See y'all another day.

Home again...

I think this is the longest I've been gone from home in one stretch in many a long year.  I have to tell you, it feels really, really good to be home in this funky little house in its funky neighborhood.

I had a great time, really glad I went, and I finally made it to BEAUFORT, and fell just as much in love with reality as I have been for so many years with a romanticized idea (thanks to Pat Conroy, Anne Rivers Siddons and Lew Decker). I would move there tomorrow, given the opportunity. Photos and details to come!

But -- I left the center in Jesup today just before noon, arrived home about six hours later after only two quick stops. I was exhausted when I left there, and while my body is all keyed up from the drive, I'm pooped. I made the requisite stop at Kroger for the requisites of life: rotisserie chicken, milk, and red wine. All else can wait until tomorrow. Or the next day.

Glad to see that the relentless heat of summer has fled and the wonderful temperate days/nights of fall are with us. Oddly enough, south Georgia was actually very pleasant, aside from the mosquitoes. I'd expected higher heat, higher humidity. I loved the stars and milky way as I walked to the dhamma hall each evening at 9pm for the server's meeting. And the crescent moon and stars each morning as I walked to the kitchen.

On my second glass of red in an effort to help the body chill. So far, not much is happening in that regard.

Stories and photos [of Beaufort] to come. Stay tuned.

I'll see you in September....

Good morning, y'all!

I see that some of you are anxious, wondering if I'm OK, since I've been quiet. The answer is, yes, I am just fine. It's merely been quiet around here, not much to write about. I've been enjoying the continuing cool weather, doing my exercise thing at Curves daily, and reading a lot. Too much.

I've been slowly making preparations for my upcoming visit to the Vipassana Center in South Georgia -- although I honestly haven't done much. Plotted out the route on a map, mostly thought about what to take and things to do before I leave. Need to get a little more serious about that over the weekend.

Also did a little gardening (weed control), and plan to do a little more this weekend. I've decided to do another winter greens bed, so I've pulled stuff from that bed, need to add some good nutrients to it before I leave so they can get into the soil. Don't know if I'll get around to digging the remaining bed -- I did use big clippers and cut off the tops of all the weeds down to the chicken wire level. It was a start. Somehow, I can't seem to dredge up the enthusiasm for maintaining the garden any more -- much like the rest of the house.

And so -- I leave Wednesday morning, won't be back until mid-September, won't be taking a computer with me, no updates here until I return. Be well, y'all.

This and That

A friend of mine is writing a book that all of us can make good use of (especially those of us who are over 50). It's called Brain Vitality, and the basis is that all of us can grow new brain cells and keep our brains functioning well as we age. Ann uses exercise -- mostly on the mild side and suitable for all ages -- and lifestyle choices to accomplish this. I've already added her hint about crossover exercise (crossing the midline to trigger left/right brain communication) to my own daily exercise routine. Ann has been a yoga teacher for many years, is a good writer, and also a great example of practicing what you preach, so I expect the book to be a valuable addition to my own library. She's also donating many of them to good causes, for the benefit of people who can be helped by what's taught in the book.You can get more info, and pre-order the book if you wish, here.

Our cool weather continues, with thunderstorms rumbling through around 3:30 am and good rains yesterday afternoon. Weather radar shows more headed this way from Alabama. It's unimaginable to have several nights in a row of 67 degree lows in August here -- but I'm not complaining. Well, being me I do complain because the house is actually cooler than I like, so I'm in a sweatshirt, and sit with a light throw over my legs when I read, but it's not serious complaining. Much prefer this to 105! I've noted before that this is a cold house -- very hard to keep warm in the winter, but that's what makes it reasonably comfortable to live in it without AC in the summer, too. It's cooled off quite nicely over these past days and the pattern is forecast to continue through the week, at least. Weird, but pleasant.

I'm starting to think about packing and other preparations for my next trip -- I drive off a week from tomorrow, headed to Jesup, in south Georgia, for three weeks. I'll be visiting the Southeast Vipassana Center, where I'll sit a 10-day course, then stay on to serve (work in the kitchen) the following course. I'm gonna be curious to see how much difference there'll be between this course and my first one, over 7 years ago. That one was pure torture, physically and mentally, but I've done a lot of sitting since then and learned a lot, so I expect (hope!) that this one won't be so bad. If you wonder why I want to go if it was that bad, it's because despite the discomfort it was a great experience and I learned a lot. I should learn even more this time, and these centers and courses are one of the few places I know of where one can isolate oneself in total silence for such a long time. Most meditation retreats are silent, but most places also don't enforce that rule. The Vipassana centers enforce it strongly -- we're not even supposed to have eye contact with another person because that's communication of a sort, and communication of any kind is not allowed. Sounds harsh, but that's what makes it work.

Later, y'all.

Garden fresh pasta sauce

This was the perfect, cool day I've been waiting for in order to make my red sauce -- which involves lots of steaming water for scalding the tomatoes, then an all day simmer. Not something I'd choose to do on a normal August day around here.

Fresh, ripe Roma tomatoes from the garden, washed and waiting to be scalded, then peeled.

Peeled, rough-chopped, ready to cook. Juices already flowing.

Fresh basil, garlic and onion -- also from the garden.

Onions and garlic sauteed together.

Basil added without chopping.

Let it cook all day -- and you have Mama Nina's famous red sauce.

I learned to make this sauce way back in the day when I did a year-long stint as line cook at Mama Nina's, a northern Italian restaurant in Yountville, Napa Valley. I only had one day per week when I did set-up -- meaning I worked all day, made all the necessary sauces including this one. The rest of the time I worked evenings only, which was great for me. We used canned tomatoes, but other than that the process and recipe are the same. I may go a little heavier on garlic and basil than we did then, but since we made it daily in a huge pot, it's really hard to compare proportions (not to mention hard to remember!). It tastes right, which means really, really good. We used this mostly on pasta, but also for layering lasagna.

So now I have a good supply -- after an overnight chill, I'll pack it into small canning jars and put it in the freezer, for individual use over the winter. I expect that some of it will not make it quite that long. The best part is that literally everything aside from salt and coconut oil came from my garden. I love it even more because of that.

Passings...

I had some bad news last night -- an email from my daughter-in-law telling me that my son's father, my first husband, died Friday night. So what, you might ask. After all, we've been divorced for nearly 50 years. But we'd remained friends of a sort, staying in touch, talking from time to time and he visited a couple of times when I lived in Napa, when he was traveling on business in the area. He was a good man -- not his fault he was saddled with a child bride. The issues in our marriage were mine, as I am the first to admit. I'm the one who wanted out. Still, there remained a bond of some sort between us. He was about 5 years older than me, as I recall, and since I haven't heard from him in a couple of years, I didn't know he'd been ill or anything about his health issues. This is the first of my contemporaries -- people I actually know -- who have died in old age, so it's a milestone of sorts. Not a particularly pleasant one, but a milestone nonetheless.

All is well

It's cool enough this morning that I had to use my meditation shawl while I sat, and that's a really, really good thing.  A little odd for August in the deep south, but apparently the beginning of a trend that's due to last for several days, which is also a really, really good thing.  Unlike so much of the country, we have not suffered from a drought this summer. Oh, I expect our annual rainfall is lower than normal, but still -- I was told that it rained every afternoon while I was in California, and it's rained almost every day since I've been back. Not big gullywashers, but good rain. Hence the jungle that used to be my garden. Rain always brings cooler weather, at least for the duration of the rain. After the rain moves on, it can turn into a steam bath, but the storm fronts moving across this part of the country yesterday were large enough to take hours in their slow progress. Not always rain, but good cloud cover that kept the sun's heat at bay.

One of my chores over these cooler days will be to peel the big bunch of plum tomatoes I've been gathering and storing in the fridge, then make some good red pasta sauce for the freezer.  Peeling the tomatoes requires lots of boiling water, which isn't too appealing when it's already hot in the house. But I sure do enjoy that red sauce during the winter.

It's been a quiet week around here, which is why I've also been quiet. Hasn't been much to talk about and, in fact, I've about run out of what there is to say. All is well.

Be well.

A fine discovery for the bakers among us

I was trolling PBS.org tonight looking for something to watch, and my eye caught "Baking With Julia" on the menu list. I quickly went to the site and yes, indeed, PBS has resurrected all of those wonderful episodes that I enjoyed many years ago when they first ran! I felt like I'd discovered a treasure, as indeed I had. Apparently, they've been brought back in celebration of her birthday. Thank you, PBS!

I had the accompanying book, which I used with great frequency, but like so many things it went the way of a used book store about 8 years ago when I thought I was going to sail around the world (or somewhere) on a sailboat. Alas. I did keep the recipes I used the most, but like so many others that had the same end, wish I had it still.

If you enjoy baking, be sure to watch some or all of these episodes, which feature different bakers in Julia Child's kitchen, teaching how to make their specialties. I've had an overload of episodes for the moment, but there are still plenty left for another day. Or two. There are also several of Julia's other shows listed on the menu -- I just hope they leave them up long enough for me to watch them.

And of course, I'm hungry now!

Mild winters and cool summer nights

I seem to have spent most of this day researching and thinking about what my next steps might be, where I would like to -- as well as where I might realistically be able to -- move next spring. I'm the first to admit that when I chose to buy this house and move here nearly 3 years ago, I didn't make the choice based on anything resembling reality, and I ignored lots of red flags. Lots of them. I'm not really sure there were really any green flags, other than a bank being willing to loan me the money to buy a cheap little house, and returning to where I was born. And since it is the place I was born and know reasonably well, I saw all the things I'm so uncomfortable with here, saw that I'd never be able to afford this place without a job, but did my usual rosy thing thinking it was all something I could deal with. I guess at that point I hadn't yet fully realized that my mind and body no longer want to deal with things that I don't like, or that cause stress. What's the point?

Since there's no real point in thinking about what I'd really like to do (which involves being footloose and fancy-free, traveling to whatever worldly location appeals on the moment, staying there for as long as the spirit moves me -- a week, a month, a year -- then moving on to the next), I've tried to stay within the bounds of reason. As I've given this subject thought over the past week, I've tried to look realistically at what is truly important to me. The two primary parameters seem to be a more liberal/progressive community and some kind of Buddhist center/group. Weather is the third parameter. Out of tornado alley, for one. Someplace warm and sunny with mild winters, for another. And of course, it all has to be affordable, through the miracle of subsidized housing for seniors.

I've actually found a surprising number of these in Marin and Sonoma Counties in California, prime locations for weather, politics, and Buddhism. Not to mention wine and food and beaches and just about everything else I love. Unfortunately, none of them seem to be rentable from a distance. All have waiting lists, which isn't surprising, but once your name reaches the top of the list you are required to have a personal interview. That would be a bit costly from way out here. If they decide to rent the apartment to you, you have to visit in person again to sign the forms, give them money, the usual stuff.  No surrogates allowed. So, to make any of these work I'd have to go ahead and move to California and wait it out. Nice thought, but unrealistic, given my income. There's really no place I could stay. I think a phone call to at least one of them is in order, just to get the facts and see if there's a way around being there. And see how long the waiting lists are.

Second choice, and the most reasonable one for many reasons, is Asheville, NC. It's a lovely small city about the size of Eugene, OR and with many of the same liberal leanings. I already know a woman who established and leads a meditation group there, and there are other options as well. It's several hours closer to the Bhavana Society in West Virginia, so I could continue to go there for retreats. The apartments all sound lovely. Summers there are a delight. Winters -- I'm not so sure about.

From what I can gather through research, winters there are not much worse than winters here. But for me, it's too cold here in the winter. That opinion may well be colored by living in a drafty old house that's really hard to keep warm, and these newer, smaller, energy-efficient apartments with central heat would not likely pose such a problem. I didn't have much trouble with the cold in Atlanta for 10 years, as I recall -- because of smaller, newer, less drafty apartments with central heat. Winter is really the only red flag that pops up when I consider Asheville, so I think I need to take a little trip up there soon and check out the various apartments, maybe get my name on some waiting lists. And check out the winter weather facts. I've been watching the daily weather there for the last week, and their daily highs seem to run about what the temp is inside my house right now -- 82 degrees. I wouldn't even need to use AC for that, because to me it's pretty comfortable. And nights are cooler than here, which would be perfect.

Asheville is certainly not as appealing as the milder winters and cool summer nights of Marin and Sonoma, but unless a miracle happens, I might as well forget that idea! It would certainly be an easier move, and I wouldn't have to sell all my stuff and start all over. There's a lot to be said for that at my age. It's also easy to drive up and check the places out, unlike California.

So aside from that -- I braved the garden again this afternoon for a half hour or so and made some decent progress. It's still an overgrown mess, but these small increments of time are adding up and making a difference. I had to come back in and swallow a big glass of ice water, splash some cool water on my very red face, but all is well now.

Be well, y'all!