Heart Issues

“You’re a very lucky man.” Those words, coming from a cardiologist at Duke University Hospital, carry weight. “Most people who experience what you did last night are not alive this morning.”

Since we came in Friday night, Ben has been catheterized, MRI’d, and echocardiogrammed in an effort to find out why his heart rate was almost 300 beats per minute. They still aren’t quite sure they know the answer to that one exactly. But in the process of looking for an explanation, they discovered a lot. So much, in fact, that as I type this, Ben is in surgery for a double bypass AND mitral valve repair or replacement, a 6 hour open-heart procedure.

There’s nothing like a real life trauma to throw things into perspective. I rearranged my schedule -- thanks to the kindness of my classmates, supervisor, professors, parents, kids, and friends -- so that I could remain up here in Durham. I’ve assumed responsibilities and questioned doctors and met Ben’s friends and daughter and talked with his ex-wife (we’ve even been texting today!). I’ve laughed my head off, and cried, and worried. I’ve felt strong, and weak. I’ve been glad to be here, and I’ve wished I were anywhere else. But mainly I’ve just been grateful. Grateful at the opportunity to know someone in a completely different way….there’s nothing like this to reveal facets of a person! Grateful at the providence that put us at Duke when this happened and for the world-class cardiovascular surgeon who is working on him now (his "clinical interests" are listed as cardiac transplantation, left ventricular assist devices, adult cardiac surgery, and mitral valve surgery). Grateful that undetected problems could come to light and be addressed. Grateful for life.

Issues of Life and Death

I'm trying to process my life right now. So, as I tend to do, I do this by writing about it. I haven't written since August, and here it is November. I've been living life. It's been busy and full and happy. Although the divorce process has been lingering now for going on three years, I've felt the internal shift that has allowed me to make peace with the process while moving forward. As part of my Beth 2.0 strategy for approaching life -- embracing and fully living the life I'm in (which right now means "Student") -- I bought tickets to all the Clemson home football games. I've started dating. I've started enjoying the fruits of regular exercise (running, no less! I hate running!, and biking) and losing weight and eating healthy. I've traveled; I've said yes to opportunities; I've danced. I cannot remember feeling quite so alive.

This weekend was supposed to be very busy and full and happy... I was supposed to go to Durham with Ben, whom I've been dating for two months. He moved to Spartanburg on Labor Day to take a new job, and met me about a week later. We've done lots of stuff together, and have had a great time getting to know each other. As a Duke grad, he was over-the-moon to take me to a Duke basketball game (vs. Davidson) and -- less enthusiastically, after having experienced Clemson Tiger football! -- a Duke football game (vs. Ga Tech, who beat Clemson!) We were going to meet his older daughter, who is a freshman at Duke, and we were going to swing by High Point to take Mackenzie and Courtney to lunch. Then we were going to have a few days back at work/real life, before diving into Thanksgiving with both feet. Next weekend I had won the grad student lottery to get tickets to the USC/Clemson game, and we were going to wind up the holiday weekend with a trip to Columbia for that.

That's how it was supposed to go.

And that IS how it started out. We jumped in his Jeep on Friday afternoon, to meet with his friends in Durham, Ed and Jackie, for the game. We arrived a little late, but within the first quarter found our seats in Cameron. It was a historic game, because after the game Coach K was feted for his 903 win... the win that made him the winningest basketball coach ever. Following that ceremony, we met up with his daughter Liz and some of her friends. We took them to the Panda Express. The evening was unusually cold, and we had a long way to walk following dinner. Ben started gasping a little, blaming it on the cold and a bit of asthma. We got in the car, turned on the heat, and pulled out of the lot. Suddenly he stopped the car, and began gasping. I asked if he wanted me to drive...no, it would be fine; he was just a little winded, and the car was feeling kinda hot. He began sweating, along his temples and cheeks. He became cranky. He thought maybe he was hyperventilating...after all it was cold, and then the car was hot, and after all, we had walked a long way. When we got where we were staying, he got out of the car and doubled over. If only he could lie on the sofa and catch his breath, he surmised, he would feel better. If only he could take a few aspirin, because he was developing a headache. If only his heart would stop racing...

When EMS arrived, they calmly warned him how much the defibrillator would hurt, and then they applied it. He screamed. I started the self-talk: You need to remember to bring a change of clothes; You need to find his insurance card; You need to stay calm. The EMS asked me to fill out the forms: What WAS his Social Security number? I certainly didn't know. What WAS his birthdate? I didn't know. I'm just the girlfriend of a few months. I'm not the wife, or even the ex-wife. I'm just someone who thought we were going to have a fun weekend of sports and family.

They shocked him again. This time, he knew what it would feel like. This time the EMT stepped in front of me, suggesting I really didn't need to see this happening. Ben screamed again, and I began to cry. Ben began looking very glassy eyed. He looked vaguely at me and said something about not being ready to give up the fight. What response could I give? What do I know? What context do I have for understanding what is happening? Surely, this was happening to someone else. Not to Ben. Not to me.

But they loaded him on the stretcher, and began giving me directions to follow them to the hospital. I did, as if it was my own life dependent on getting it right. I sat in the waiting room, until they called for "Mrs. Howell". I'm not Mrs. Howell, I explained.

Cruise: Day 4

Another Clemson student is working an internship in Rome this summer, and we laid plans early on that we wanted to visit Maja there. So the cruise stop in Civitivecchia allowed us the opportunity to spend a day with her. We disembarked Wednesday and found our way to the train station to catch an early train to Rome, along with, apparently, the rest of the population. There were no seats available so we stood in the passageway between cars. At each stop, more people would pile into the train. Three dozen people in the space of, oh, a typical bathroom-sized space, all trying to avoid making eye contact with each other, while holding onto their wallets. At the last stop before Rome, I found myself belly to belly with a rotund gentleman, about 9 inches shorter than me, with an inch of cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Thankfully, he put the cigarette stub in his pocket (for later, I guess). But yeah. I was glad to arrive in Rome.
We found Maja and a friend at the McDonald's as we planned. Anders, a Norweigan guy visiting in Rome himself, was great fun and good company/conversation and made it a pleasant foursome. Then started our Amazing Day in Rome. In the space of under six hours, we somehow managed to tour the Coliseum, sip wine, throw coins in Trevi Fountain, eat gelato, mug at the Spanish Steps, wander around the Capitoline Hill, visit the Vatican, enjoy a fabulous meal together, and almost miss a train. Basically, it was a perfect, sunny, happy, friendly, whirlwind day in Rome.

Cruise: Day 1 & 2

Cruise days 1 & 2:
Day One was a day at sea. I literally did nothing. I laid on the sundeck, whether it was warm or not (most of the day it was not), and didn’t read, didn’t accomplish one thing. I lived the entire day in my swimsuit, and I am burned to prove it. It was marvelous. It felt like ‘vacation.’
Tabitha and I have not stopped laughing. I can’t imagine a better traveling companion, even if she is neurotic about germs and things that don’t bother me so much. Her conscientiousness means we are never late, never have to wonder what gate we should be at, etc. Tabs is on top of it. We have cracked each other and ourselves up more than I can count, and have waaayy too many inside jokes going. We have laughed on the ship because we realize we do not present an easy category for anyone to put us in, and this does seem to cause a bit of consternation. She’s the age of one of my children, but we hardly look like mother/daughter, or the right age to be simply friends traveling together. She’s black/I’m white. We aren’t lesbians. We are Americans on a ship of solely British citizens. When the ship’s photographer goes to make our photo, he asks “Are you together?” The captain last night hardly knew what to do with us on each side of us; we just don’t make sense. Add to that, Tabs is the only Black woman on the entire ship. The. entire. ship.
Last night was formal night. I made a little shopping trip last week when I learned I was going to go on a cruise, since I certainly didn’t pack cruisewear when I left Greenville. Following dinner, a disco was to follow beginning at midnight. I didn’t really want to stay up so I went in the room and watched a movie to go to sleep. Tabs left at midnight to go to the disco, and returned back in under 10 minutes. She said it was sparsely attended and she felt awkward alone. So (of course) I pulled back on my clothes and we ran down there, and proceeded to dance for two hours. We even made people get out there that weren’t dancing. Tabs and I laughed and laughed because we truly didn’t care one whit what anyone else thought, so we could just lighten up and have fun. "Those Americans! They really do things differently, don’t they?" I could almost hear them thinking. I still haven’t forgiven Tabs for ignoring the guy in the kilt; he really did want to dance with her.
Morning came early and we arrived in Trapani, Sicily. Tabs would probably have slept later, but I was ready to go. Having done absolutely nothing the previous day meant that I wanted to see what there was to see. So we hailed a cab to take us to the funicular up to the walled city of Erice, high above Trapani.
Our day was golden. Although it was rainy early, skies cleared up and we walked all over the town, through churches, lost on meandering roads, avoiding as much as possible the tourist groups. After about four churches, we decided to go visit the archaeological site “the castle of Venus”. It presented the best views of the day. Although a strict monotheist myself, I confess I did toss a small offering of change over the cliff. It’s Venus, after all, the goddess of love, and I figured I didn’t want her on my bad side.
Before we headed back down the mountain, I was getting hungry. Neither of us felt like a tourist restaurant, and I told her, “I want a REAL Sicilian meal, down to a REAL gorgeous Italian waiter to be solicitous of my every wish.” We found an upstairs-level restaurant that didn’t seem to be frequented with too many tourists. We turned to be seated and there stood… exactly whom I had wished for. Some days, I guess I’m just lucky that way. Maybe it was the coins to Venus. Who knows? But we had the best Italian meal, with ‘scenery’, that I’ve ever had: fresh pasta, fresh pesto, Sicilian beef with couscous, wine, cannoli, real coffee from a little cup with perfectly whipped froth (after weeks of Nescafe as the norm). We left a good tip, because, well, incredibly attentive, attractive men don’t fall from the sky every day now, do they?

Tabitha and me at the Castle of Venus:

Weekend in London

We got up in plenty of time to get to the train station. I packed my backpack for the weekend, ate two pieces of toast and set out with Tabitha. As we approached the bottom of the hill we saw the #120 driving past. No worries…another one will be by soon. So when we boarded the next bus we still had adequate time. As we disembarked I saw a clock (we have no timepieces except Tab’s iPhone) and realized it was 10:15 and it left at 10:27. No worries…we had prebooked the ticket and just had to pick it up at the kiosk, and it’s a small station. But of course, the kiosk wouldn’t work with our credit cards (we are both having a lot of trouble with that) and we had to wait for an attendant. Thankfully, there was another train that left at 10:35, and we made that one instead.


I sat across from a young guy with a red/blue rep tie and very polished black oxforda who was talking quietly to himself. I pegged him for a lawyer going to London for a case. It turns out he was a lawyer who was going to London for a job interview, and he was going through his answers. We talked for awhile and he got his jitters out. Before long he was on his way to his interview, and Tab and I were hitting London.
We picked up an Oyster card for the public transit, and went to a hotel-finding service. After haggling with Ivalyo of Bulgaria for awhile over the price, and after he threw in breakfast, we settled on the Rockmont as inexpensive enough by London standards, but not sketchy. It was near Victoria station, and Tabitha liked its proximity to the Queen. With me navigating we made one wrong turn, but realized it fairly quickly, and before too long we arrived.
Tabs and I split up for the rest of the day. She went to the Tower of London for the afternoon, and I went to the Tate museums. Although I enjoyed the pre-Raphaelites and the Turners, I was underwhelmed. It seemed like the collection was small in the kinds of works I really wanted to see. I had seen more pre-Raphaelites in Washington, and more large Turners in Paris. So after awhile I headed for the Westminster tube stop in order to get the subway to the Tate Modern. However, while at Westminster, I decided to wander around a little and get a few shots of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. As I approached Westminster Abbey (closed to visitors) I noticed a that it was almost time for Evensong. So I decided to stay for the service. I got to listen to those lovely choir voices, heard at the Royal Wedding, fill Westminster. The acoustics were phenomenal. It was such a treat.
I made my way over to the Tate Modern. I really just wanted to see it, housed in a a converted electrical building. I’m not a huge modern art person, but I did see several big names in the modern art movement…. May Ray, Gerhardt Richter, Mark Rothko, Picasso, etc. But only rarely does modern art move me (especially countered against the choir voices at Westminster), and so I didn’t stay long.
Tabitha and I met up at the hotel room for dinner. We just walked down the street to a Cyprian restaurant and it was fabulous. We shared a plate of delicious Yogurtlu Tavuklu Beyti and called it an early night.
Saturday we enjoyed a fabulous breakfast, where we sat next to a nice Australian couple from the Gold Coast. Of course, since Grayson lived in Surfer’s Paradise on the Gold Coast, we had an immediate connection and visited for a long while. After breakfast we tried to make some travel arrangements but without much success. So then we left for the day and went to Buckingham Palace and saw the changing of the guard. From there we walked up the red road to the Wellington Arch, and to the Houses of Parliament. After lunch, we walked through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, to Notting Hill. Tab’s knee had been getting increasingly more painful for her over the day, and I feared she wasn’t going to make it to Portobello Road. Obviously the bargains and shopping there got the best of her, and she forgot her knee momentarily. After an unremarkable dinner, we thought we’d go out on the town. However, with little entertainment budget, we wandered around Carnaby Street and people watched. In the subway station, we were going down the escalator while a woman (who otherwise looked sane) was trying desperately to go up the down stairs. Not sure how that ended up working for her but we heard her clomping up the risers until we boarded the train. We got a good chuckle out of it.

Sunday, we had another great breakfast and decided to hit a museum. I had never been to the Victoria & Albert, and Tabitha didn’t care. (She had seen Buckingham Palace, the Houses of Parliament, and the London Eye. She was satisfied.) Some of the V&A was tedious (really? An entire wing of ‘Ironwork’?) but there were some really great aspects. One was the amazing jewelry collection. The other were the two exhibitions going on. Tabitha went to Yohji Yamamoto’s fashion exhibition, and came away inspired to pull out the sewing machine and sign up for Project Runway. I went to The Cult of Beauty, a magnificent exhibition of the pre-Raphaelites. Lots of my faves were there: Burne-Jones, Alma-Tadema, Rosetti, Whistler, Leighton, William Morris, Julia Cameron, etc. It more than made up for the dearth at the Tate (and maybe that's where the Tate ones were hiding!)

We visited over lunch with an elderly London couple; she remarked that she had an American Army boyfriend during the war and I asked, “His name wasn’t Herb, was it?” Her husband laughed and said, “No, and it’s a good thing. Then I wouldn’t like you so much!” We enjoyed Victoria’s own recipe for sponge cake with strawberry/cream filling, and it was to die for. We left the museum thinking that since it was such a lovely day we should head to a garden and walk. We went to the Chelsea Physic Garden, and on the way passed the Chelsea Flower Show. I would have loved to have had tickets to that! (I bet they let Obama go on Tuesday when he gets there, but for me, they were sold out!) So I can honestly say I went TO the Chelsea Flower Show, but not that I actually went in. ☺ From the Garden we caught the bus back to Victoria Station for our subway to St. Pancras and ‘home’ to Sheffield.

I decided that yes, I could live in London, for 2-3 years but not forever, if I lived in Chelsea or Notting Hill or somewhere like that (high on the quaint factor). So if anyone out there on the internet has a great job opening in London, for an American, I’m all ears!

Chatsworth House, Derbyshire

If you have an ounce of a soul in you, you'd probably enjoy Chatsworth House, at least today. Today was filled with gorgeous art and baby animals and gardens and beautiful spaces and flowers. After a WARM night (must have worked to our benefit that I tipped up the furnace) Tabitha and I woke happy. Lisa, our hostess, drove us down to the bus stop to catch the 9:12 to Chatsworth House in Peaks National Park. It is the ancestral (and current) home of the 12th Duke and Dutchess of Devonshire.
After a lovely half hour drive in the countryside, we arrived before opening. We got a cup of coffee/tea and wandered through some shops, then into the gardens surrounding the estate. We lucked into arriving on one of the days of the "Florabundance Festival". Even though it was raining, we walked for several miles admiring all the landscaping and flowers in bloom and baby animals (lambs and ducklings). The home exterior was undergoing some renovations, but the gardens and interiors were still fantastic. The tulips were all in bloom, along with about every other flower you can imagine. It was really incredible. Reminded me a bit of Biltmore House, Versailles... you know, houses and gardens erected by really rich people, who now must let the likes of me inside their homes, in order to pay for them!
We dined at the restaurant and then tackled the house itself. The art collection alone was worth the trip: from Van Dyck, Rembrandt, Franz Hals, and Correggio, to Joshua Reynolds, David Hockney, and Lucien Freud. Then there were the awesome interiors. Then the gorgeous flower arrangements. Just my cup of tea, for sure.

Oh, and be sure to watch the upcoming documentary about Chatsworth House on the BBC. It will feature all three of these feet.

...to the dodgy end...

Tabitha and I shivered our way through night one. I stayed in bed as long as I could to stay warm. When we both got up, and no one was home, we turned up the heat just a little bit! But of course our dear host Andrew showed up and I was busted! :-) However, the day warmed up and it was absolutely lovely today for strolling around town and checking out our new surroundings. So we walked to the bottom of the hill, boarded the bus into town, and saw what there was to see in downtown Sheffield. Everyone we talked to were like, "You're spending your holiday?...in SHEFFIELD?" Apparently the convention and visitors bureau has not convinced the locals that anyone would want to come here! But we enjoyed ourselves, especially the little coffee shop where we sipped caramel hot chocolate. As the day got late, we boarded the #120 back to our house. But after circling the city center it veered east, rather than west. Gradually, the scenery got dodgier, and we realized that yes, we were on the right bus, but headed in the wrong direction! After learning some valuable transport lessons -- make sure what side of the road you are on! make sure you wave for the driver or he won't stop! -- we were delivered back to the bottom of the hill. We stopped in the pub there to celebrate our arrival. Then climbed Carsick Hill to our home sweet home. Lisa fixed a delicious vegetarian lasagne which we devoured. We sat around planning our weekend adventures. Tomorrow we will travel to the Darcy estate from the Keira Knightly version of Pride and Prejudice, better known as Chatsworth House; at the end of May, Ryan will join us (and maybe Maja??) to fly to Venice!

Same blogger...different country

Today I landed in Manchester, UK, to begin an internship at the University of Sheffield. However, most sadly, I could not find the cord which connected my camera to my computer, and so haven't a way to upload photos currently, except from Tabitha's camera (where those that follow were taken). I'm going to look to buy a cord here if that's possible. Of course, I still haven't exchanged currency, used an ATM, bought a bus pass, or really done any of the navigating in a new country that I need to.

Tabitha and I arrived here after an uneventful flight. It was the part before the flight that was eventful. My parents dropped us at the airport and we said our goodbyes. Inside, we immediately learned that our baggage was overweight. Not such a big problem for me, as I could carry a makeup bag as my second carry-on, and problem solved. But Tabitha had "weightier" issues: 25 pounds to redistribute, and (Murphy's Law) a busted zipper on her brand new carry-on. Finally after proving that no, we are not terrorists, and about an hour, extra baggage, and lots of discarded toiletries, later, we boarded the flight.
The layover in Atlanta was short. I scarfed down an Arby's as Tabitha tried to hunt down a replacement for the totally worthless Samsonite. As time neared for boarding, I began sending texts: "Hi, I'm leaving the food court." "Hi, where are you?" "The gate is all the way at the end of the concourse. Where are you?" "Our zone is finished boarding! Where are you?????" and finally "I'm on the plane and in a panic." But she made it on, having found unfortunately no luggage to replace the broken zippered tote bag. This was this morning's view out the window:

Jet lag has been my constant companion today. Arriving in Manchester, we navigated our way to the train station and found the train for Sheffield. We called Andrew, our University contact, who picked us up an hour later at the Sheffield platform. He drove us by the University, showing us where we'd be working, and then on to the house we are staying in, high up Carsick Hill, west of the city. The home is lovely... a recently renovated older home with a large (by English standards) lot, 3 darling children, 2 Maine Coon cats (Ra and Isis), and a very kind and accommodating couple. Following leek and potato soup, Tabbs and I both took a long nap. Late afternoon, we walked down the hill to the bus stop, and did a bit of shopping (replacing those discarded toiletries). It is election day here in England:

Hopefully by tomorrow we will have our beauty sleep, and be ready to tackle to bus system, touring around downtown, and getting our local bearings.
So far, these are my observations:
1. It's colder here. Colder in the house, colder outside. I hope I brought enough warm non-work clothes.
2. I want a Maine Coon cat.
3. Even the houses where they wouldn't claim to have a gardener, look quaint and brimming with landscaping. Just on our short walk, we saw peonies, lilacs, columbine, tulips, rhododendron, roses, and about two dozen other plants I don't know... all in bloom.
4. I should have amazing calves by the time I've climbed Carsick Hill daily for 6 weeks. This is a sign posted along the not-very-steep section:

Snow day!

Zeus illustrates just how excited EVERYONE is about snow in the south!

The Lottery Virgins

Take two twenty-somethings and two forty-somethings, none of whom have ever bought a lottery ticket, and here's what you have on New Year's Day. Between football games we drove to the gas station and plunked down a few bucks for a chance at winning!

White Christmas!!

First time it has snowed on Christmas Day in my lifetime. THAT'S something to record!

Hospitality suite

M. played at UGA this week. Kati (our former German exchange student from 2003, visiting this Christmas) and I drove down to Athens and arrived about an hour early. We parked and found a rear entrance to the stadium by the parking garage. After wandering around in the building we found a security guard and asked how to get to the colosseum. She said it would open in a few minutes but pointed us to the 'hospitality suite'. I asked what she meant. "Oh, you can go in there and get some dinner!" "Really?" I asked. She assured me to go on in. So Kati and I went to the hospitality suite. And ate to our hearts content, though I did have the decency to cover up my purple and black sweater, surrounded as we were by a sea of red. For of course, the hospitality suite was filled with UGA supporters (and one assumes, donors). Between laughing ourselves silly, we took pictures to document our security-guard-approved party-crashing.

Then we went in the colosseum, saw that our tickets were in the nosebleed section, and promptly went down to the second row. In a few minutes a nice genteleman arrived, stating that we were in his seat, but that he owned the whole row and were welcome to stay in the seats if he could just have the aisle. Then during the game a fan across the court kept yelling to "Put in Moses!" Have no idea who he was, or why he decided to petition for M, but eventually he did get a few minutes of playing time. (It was especially cool to watch the game later, recorded on ESPN, and see him on TV!)

So thank you UGA fans for all your hospitality and support!

A tough day ahead

This is how my day started today.

I can't stop crying after reading today's headline, after just talking to Gray last night. This is where he is. I can't bear these sad headlines. But I've got to stop crying, because I have to be in the dentist's chair at 9. And then my day really goes downhill, with a temporary hearing at noon. Most days I love and celebrate, but today seems like a rough one brewing. I want to find something today to celebrate and appreciate. Please God.

From the Mountains to the Coast

"Come on," Beth said. "It will be fun." How many crazy ideas start that way? My friend had just suggested that we, two middle-aged Rubenesque women, should bike across the state of South Carolina. Never mind that we weren't bikers, nor that we had the right equipment, nor that we had ever biked across the neighborhood, much less the state. It would be fun.



Today marked the end of this three-day adventure, that had been six months in the making. We had been riding every week, building stamina according to some kind of training regimen that, Beth promised, would prepare us for the 270 mile trek. Theoretically we were also supposed to be going to the gym and training between rides, but I conveniently forgot that part most weeks. I did a little yoga when it was convenient, but otherwise, I relied on our weekly rides to condition me.



Tonight we arrived at Folly Beach, having left at the NC/SC state line just two days earlier. By leapfrogging each other, we took 10 mile segments, one riding while the other rested. On Day Two, her daughter Laura joined the team and added a shot of energy and endurance to the effort. Ten miles at a time we made it. We rode in the rain and wind. We waited out thunderstorms. We stuck it out when it seemed tedious, or onerous. We laughed a lot and encouraged each other every leg of the way. We faced a few dogs, lots of vultures, a possum playing possum, a friendly neighborhood shotgun incident, and getting lost. We smelled every kind of roadkill --possum, squirrel, frogs, vulture, snake, armadillo, deer, alligator, and many, many unidentifiable creatures -- and Beth even contributed (twice!!) to creating some. We noticed many plants in bloom: bachelor buttons, red clover, blackberries, wild roses, trumpet vine, wild iris. We noted roadsigns we would never have noticed if we weren't forced to slow down and read them: Do Right Lane, Peach Leaf Curl Road, Redemption Way. We learned how the topography and ecology and local flavor of the counties -- Greenville, Laurens, Greenwood, Saluda, Aiken, Orangeburg, Dorchester, Charleston -- differed from one another. We learned, if we had forgotten, that there are lots of ways to live happily. Sometimes the simplest things can be the most beautiful and satisfying... even just a long weekend, spent on a bike with a friend.

And she was right. It was fun.

Where's my ark?

This is what greeted me behind in the back of my place this morning:



Zeus wonders where the nature trail went:

Living History

The Upstate History Museum opened an exhibit this morning entitled "Weaving Our Survival: Upcountry Stories of WWII". The exhibit features many oral histories, and my dad is one whose interviews are featured in the exhibit's interactive narration stations. He describes growing up in the Depression, signing up for the war, liberating concentration camps, Dachau, returning home, and how the war changed the course of his life. Of course, the editors had to leave out much of his 2 hour interview, but the portions they used are wonderful. They even used a quote from his interview to highlight on the wall of the exhibit:
"It's like you'd gone to hell, you know. And you had been really."

Kyle's Living Room

I love going to Open Studios every year. Over a hundred local artists open up their studios -- whether they are in their homes, garages, whatever -- for the public to come in and visit. It's a great chance to meet new people, learn about art and get exposed to local artists, and enjoy the great fall weather. Last night I visited Dabney's and Kyle's studios. I love Kyle's eclectic sense of decorating, her whimsy, her artwork, and her dear personality.

Just a few faves from Halloween...

Halloween

End of the season

Last night was a disappointing end to a really wonderful season. While the Knights lost big (and had an injury), they know that they did a great job for the first season of football.