At Honey Horn: the Butterfly House

November 26, 2015

We ended our outing at Honey Horn with the butterfly house.


It reminds me of a pole structure that’s been screened. The man that made my shed used a “pole” method that he used for other out buildings, like pole barns. The poles are sunk into deep, concrete-filled holes, and it’s super-strong. It we have a hurricane and don’t evacuate, I’m going to the shed.

This means we are at the end of our outing, and there’s only 2 meals left before the SugarCousins will be on their way.

Ou, sadness.



At Honey Horn: the Art of Stanley Meltzoff

November 25, 2015

I don’t know of him. Perhaps you do. 

His works were featured in a temporary exhibit. 

His underwater works have an ethereal quality (that being a good thing and not meaning spacey). Yet why didn’t I photograph any? Perhaps I was too entranced by the real thing. 

There were other objects of interest in the room. Like this chair once belonging to John Holmes, a Gullah fisherman who died in 1972 at the age of 86. 

 We toured a bit longer into the room that displayed local artists’ works. And I couldn’t resist taking one more photo of a storyboard about freedom. 

There are walking trails and a butterfly house, even though it’s too late in the season for butterflies. 

It’s probably mid-afternoon by now, and we walk down to an observation deck into the marsh that overlooks Jarvis Creek. 

Do you see the Bateson cousins?


The talk turns to the time and the tide, the calls of the birds, the smell of the marsh…

Along the walkway to the butterfly house, there’s a memorial section. There’s Sugar’s friend Fred’s parents. 

It caused us to pause in moments of silence while we read their tributes. 

We finished our day here at the butterfly enclosure. All I can say about that is this: now I want a butterfly enclosure…

On to Honey Horn

November 25, 2015

Sugar had considered for a long time how to round out our BatesonFest with his Canadian cousins. 

A trip to Honey Horn Plantation was his answer. It’s not only that it’s the location of the Coastal Discovery Museum, it’s also the former home of his childhood friend Fred. 

The drive winds through the trees to get to the house. We pause outside the house to check out some of the storyboards. 


There are excellent trees on the grounds.  It is thought that the name Honey Horn is a derivation of the name of an early owner, Mr. Hanahan. 
Once inside, there are so many things to see and absorb yourself in. Displays, dioramas, books and gifts and souvenirs, art exhibits, an entire room geared for kids, and storyboards about the history of the people, the plantation, and the island are just waiting for you. 


You can enlarge any photo by clicking on it.






Sugar pointed how the interior had changed. The rooms had been opened up to make the floor plan flow into an airy space. The ceilings have not been lowered. Twelve feet? Fourteen? I don’t know, but tall ceilings aided in cooling a house in this climate. 

We head into an area where the art exhibitions are… 

Along the Rivuh

November 21, 2015

We’re out in the churchyard at the Church of the Cross in Bluffton on a BatesonFest. We used to only go on LawtonFests, because Sugar didn’t know any other Batesons. But since Julie in Belgium found an online family tree I posted, and she found a cousin’s wife in New Zealand who connected us to another cousin in South Africa, who connected us to her daughter and family in North Carolina and yet another cousin in Saskatchewan, he’s feeling not so lonely. It’s his Canadian cousins who have stopped for a visit and the subsequent BatesonFest. 

There’s a sort of sundial in the yard, and we weren’t sure it it was still on Eastern Standard Time or Daylight Savings. Maybe you can tell. 

There are some carvings around the base. We don’t know what they mean, but here they are. 

We stand in the shadow of an ancient cedar tree. There aren’t many cedars to be found in this part of the country, and when you do find a cedar, it’s old. 


The Maye Rivuh


Then we piled back in the van and drove around old Bluffton and Sugar showed us his boyhood haunts. We drove over the little causeway to Myrtle Island, and he told us how people would go crabbing there. We drove around Myrtle, a small residential island with beautiful homes and matching views in every direction. We drove past Sugar’s boyhood home, which was set away from the road and closer to the marsh and so overgrown that the actual hour could not be seen. We saw some of the other historic houses and properties, like the Heyward house, the John Lawton Property, and the Boy Scout hut where Sugar and his buddies met. He said his troop was unique, Bluffton-style, and it was a mixed bag of boys, with the younger ones on the roof throwing sticks, and the older ones smoking cigarettes. He had a friend from Hilton Head named Fred, and Fred’s father wanted his two boys in the scouts until he drove up one day with the boys in the car to join the scouts. He saw that rough-and-tumble group and just kept driving.  
Then we did something I’ve always wanted to do. 

We went through the boat landing. There is a nice portapotty there, which was not the reason we went. 

Okay, it was the reason we went, but it was a perfect opportunity to walk down to where the boats put in on a point of land. 

Across the way are other little islands. 

We drove around a bit more as we wound our way to the British Open Pub for lunch. We thought it might be fun for the Bateson boys to eat in a British pub, since their families were born Brits. The meal was unremarkable and no photos are forthcoming. 

But then, we head toward Hilton Head even though it is Saturday, which is changeover day for the tourist rentals and no one in their right mind gets on the one road in and out of Hilton Head unless it’s the offseason. Sometimes we are not in our right mind, but it’s offseason, and on we press to see the house and property where Sugar’s friend Fred grew up. It’s a museum now. With a gift shop. Which will have books!


More Batesons, More Bluffton

November 20, 2015

We’re at the Church of the Cross. We were here once before, a few years back, and Sugar was shocked to see that there were *tourists* touring his church. (I see what you’re thinking. If it’s his church, why doesn’t he know about the tours.) To be fair, he hasn’t lived there for years, and how things can change in the blink of an eye. Or forty or fifty years.

Here’s a fun little insert: an old postcard of Calhoun Street looking north from Sugar’s Gold Mine in the Closet. It looks as if this photo was taken almost directly in front of the church with the photographer’s back to the rivuh. This strikes me as strange because this doesn’t look like a particularly photogenic view when you compare it to the river and the church. Yet I’ve never seen another postcard of this vintage of the church. The white two-story house on the left at one point was a bed-and-breakfast, but now according to the docent at the church is a church property.

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Sugar told us some far-fetched story about bees that build their hives in the church walls, and the church recovers the honey and patches up the wall. Totally preposterous. Except true.

Someday I am going to learn to believe him.


Holy Honey

The table in the foyer had memorabilia. In fact, an entire notebook of photos and newspaper clippings and research materials. I looked around for a corner that I could curl up in and look at the notebook, but, finding none, I had to satisfy myself with a few photos.

The santuary part of the church is much larger inside than I’d imagined.

In an amazing reversal in my through-the-window technique, keep in mind that finally I am inside a church taking a photo through the window, not the other way around. If I went to this church, I wouldn’t be sitting in a pew and listening to the service, I’d be chillin’ by the window.

Yes, we are still inside the church. These windows are magnificent.


On the way out, we stopped to chat with one of the docents. She and Sugar reminisced about the old town and how things had changed.

Then we headed outside and over to the rivuh…


Batesons in Bluffton

November 20, 2015

Sugar’s Canadian cousins are here! It’s better than Christmas!

Sugar worried over what to do and where to go. Most of our outings center around food and dead people, and this trip proves no different. 

We’ve already done Savannah and Beaufort, so Sugar decides we’d tour Bluffton, where he grew up. 

The first stop of the day is to see the Maye River. There’s an excellent vantage point at the end of Calhoun at the community dock/pier, with an extra beautiful historic church. 


The Church of the Cross

It’s hard to get a good shot of the front without tourists wandering in and out. Today the church is open for touring, so should we go in?

First, our volunteer guide gives us his personal history tour. He was an acolyte here when a typical Sunday morning service might have 7 attendees. 

Soon, we go inside…

The CamScanner

November 15, 2015

I love my iPhone. 

I miss the full-size keyboard of the laptop, but love it I do. 

I now love it even more. 

I heard of an app that works as a scanner, which sounds too good to be true. I chose the CamScanner. 

It works like a camera, but it also has an OCR feature that recognizes text. Taking a photo of a document and it’s lopsided? The CamScanner corrects it by magically shifting and stretching the image to the correct size, like an 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of paper. Take a photo of a page in a book, convert it to text, copy and paste, and maybe Google will read it to you. 

I can generate an image into a PDF. I can upload an image to my iPhone photo album or to FaceBook or Twitter. I can add notes, or watermarks, or line drawings. I can do any number of things that I have not yet attempted. 

So I can snap a quick photo, edit it, add a watermark, transfer it to an album, and upload it in my Etsy shop. 

CamScanner? It’s *FREE*.

Bateson, Spears, and Ebbs in the Probate Records

November 15, 2015

Thomas Bateson died young in the 1870s. His brother Christopher Henry Bateson had preceded him in death.

Thomas and Martha Mann Bateson had 3 children: Alice, Georgia Agnes, and Thomas Remington. After Martha died, Thomas relinquished the care of the girls to the Episcopal Orphan Home and the care of young Thomas to William Spears and William Ebbs. Then Thomas the elder and Thomas the younger died, and somehow one of the documents shows Spears and Ebbs to be the guardian of the girls, even though by then the girls were both past age 20.


Can someone please tell me how Bateson, Spears, and Ebbs are connected?!

Bateson, Spear, and Ebbs

November 15, 2015

Sometimes it looks like I’m doing things in a backwards manner. That’s the order that things present themselves. It’s like the universe has a paper bag of items that gets shaken up and parceled out in bits here and there. Sometimes I don’t get enough puzzle pieces to make a clear picture. 

That’s what’s going on with the Thomas Bateson family of Savannah, Georgia. We discovered that Thomas Bateson was affiliated somehow with William Spears and William Ebbs, because they are mentioned as guardians of the minor children Georgia Agnes and Alice after the rest of the family died in the 1870s. 

Sugar and I found one of them the city of Savannah cemetery database which listed William Ebbs in plot 1494. 

We visited plot 1494 with Sugar’s Bateson cousins in January of this year. There’s no marker there. 

We couldn’t find any record of William Spears at all for months. Nothing online. Until I remembered that some of the records spelled it “Speer”. 

And there he is listed online in lot 1028. So we drove on over to say hello and see if there’s a story. 

The story is that there is no story here, unless we dig deeper, figuratively speaking. There’s not even a plot marker. 

There’s another blank lot without a marker, just like the Bateson plot and the Ebbs plot. 

 Sandwiched between 1027 and 1029 is most probably 1028. Discouraging. 

And so I walk about, circling the lot and taking shots of all sides. 

Front to back with 1029 on the left & 1027 on the right.


More of the same. Back to front.

It occurs to us to stroll over to the Ebbs lot. Close in life, perhaps close in death. 


The Ebbs plot at 1494.

Very close. It’s perhaps at most 50 yards away across a little lane looking back to our right. You could throw a football there.  The clump of trees is next to the Speers/Spears plot. 

There’s William Speer, age 81, died on June 15, 1899; Rachel, age 45, died December 10, 1874; and William E. Spears, age 1 year and 9 months, died May 1, 1863. 


Oh, my. The new collection of probate records came out…

The Post Office at Garnett, SC

November 10, 2015

That is about all that marks the once-prosperous area of St. Peter’s Parish. 

That, and Housey’s store, which sells an assortment of convenience items like saltine crackers, Vienna sausages, and beer.  

This is, of course, not the first post office in Garnett. At one time, Annie Chisolm Wiggins was the postmaster, perhaps close to 100 years ago. Miz Florrie, who is 102 or thereabouts, said she used to work with Miss Annie in Miss Annie’s garden.  Miss Annie still has many descendants scattered near and far. I wonder if they have a photo of Miss Annie and the post office. 

Housey’s store has a bulletin board covered with old photos, but they appear to go back to the 1940s, 50s, 60s, and 70s. At least I didn’t see any that looked like they were of a post office, but Sugar was hustling me up to go. He thinks it’s rude to take photos sometimes, even though I had permission from Mrs. Housey and it was a public place. 

It worries me to no end that these photos might fade away into the past. I might just have to fly solo on this one. 


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