Archive for August 5th, 2009

The definition of the word “hike”

August 5, 2009
What to do

What to do

Here’s an adorable child.  Yes, we share common ancestors, hence, adorable.  She’s wearing her big sister’s skirt.  The tomboy’s dilemna:  hike the ball, hike the skirt, hike the ball, hike the skirt.  Here we see her in mid-hike.  Throughout the day, she was constantly and alternately hiking ball and skirt. 
Very cute.

I think that “O” the famous photographer snapped this candid shot.  Nice job, “O”.

Pig? Who You Calling a Pig?

August 5, 2009

Once upon a time about 3 years ago, I got a little rescue guinea pig named Greg.  He had been left in a crate on a friend’s front porch with a note:  “I need a home.  My name is Greg.”  My friend already had two guinea pigs and, although they are social animals, three was a little much.  So Greg came to live with me, and I got him some stylish digs in the laundry room.  He was a happy little pig, and he made those happy, whistling little sounds. 

Then a woman I worked for got another guinea pig, a female, to go in with her other pigs.  (She has unresolved pig issues.)  One of the other pigs tried to accost little female piggie and that scared little piggie a lot.  So said co-worker asked me if I would take her.  Scoot over, Greg.

Greg and Gladys lived happily together in unwed cohabitation, until one day another pig arrived.  No, not a baby, but a grown piggie whose parents were getting evicted, and could I please take him?  So Chew-chew made a happy little trio.  I bought an even bigger enclosure for them.  They got along well, even at feeding time, and being pigs, they liked to pig out.  I bought dry chow from time to time, but mostly I fed them fresh veggies, even organic ones when I could get them, and I filtered their water.  Don’t want little piggies drinking anything but the best.  I didn’t even filter my children’s water.  But I digress.

One morning, I approached the habitat with fresh lettuces, like usual, and Greg raced Chew-chew to the food bowl.  And Greg had a stroke.  I swear, he stroked at the buffet.  He fell over on his little piggie side and spun around in a circle.  We promptly went to the vet, who kept him for observation, and Greg slipped onward to piggie heaven later that day.  On a personal note, if I can choose where to stroke, I’ll take “Buffet” for a thousand, Alex.

Guinea pigs don’t live very long, which might be part of the attraction to an adult buying one for a child.  However, a SEVEN year life span is still a very long time.  That kid could be out of high school and finished with college with Mom still taking care of the pig.  So, needless to say, there’s a lot of guinea pigs out there to  be rescued.

So, there’s Gladys and Chewy, still co-habiting.  I had decided that the boys were gay because we should have had babies by now.  I had gone back to college, taking Saturday classes, and I arrived home one Saturday after about three weeks of classes.  Chew-chew had a habit of ringing a bell to greet me, and then chewing on the bars of the cage in anticipation of food.  (With pigs, it’s all about the food.)  He hadn’t been going thru that routine for a few days, and he seemed lethargic.  I looked into the guinea pig habitat, and I shrieked.  Someone had apparently come thru the front gate, braved their way thru 4 dogs, and dropped a handful of colorful mice babies into the guinea pig habitat.  

Wrong.  Not mice, but baby guinea pigs.  And Chew-chew looked exhausted, like he had done all the work (typical).  He rested, slumped into the corner.  On Sunday, I got home from work, and Gladys and the babies were fine.  But Chew-chew had gone to meet Greg in piggie heaven. 

I still have Gladys.  I found homes for the babies.  And Chew-chew and Greg rest peacefully, the first residents in what will probably come to be the final resting place for other foster animals, here at the Swamped Plantation.

Butterscotch, Chew Jr., Slick, and CrazyHair

Butterscotch, Chew Jr., Slick, and CrazyHair

Doesn’t that make you want a pig?(Thank you credit goes to Sugar for allowing his full-of-pig hands to be photographed.)

“O”, the famous photographer

August 5, 2009
"O" learns to make photo of self

"O" learns to make photo of self

Here’s a great shot of the famous photographer “O”.  This was at our family reunion in May 2009.  I gave my camera to “O” and told him to have at it.  I now have some amazing shots of food on the grill, the ceiling, and the photographer himself.  His work gives new meaning to looking at something thru someone else’s eyes.  Especially when that someone is about waist-high on a grown-up.

Still life with spatula

Still life with spatula

The Tison Family Cemetery in Garnett SC

August 5, 2009
The brick wall around the cemetery

The brick wall around the cemetery

In July 2008, I met up with some folks who were driving thru on a genealogy tour.  They were looking for some Tison ancestors, and we found the Tison family graveyard on land that is now part of the Webb Center in Garnett, SC.  The cemetery was enclosed by a brick wall, built about chest-high.  One section in particular had completely fallen.  The wall appears to be three layers thick.  This cemetery is one of the oldest in this area.

And the wall came tumblin' down

And the wall came tumblin' down

Another section of the wall

Another section of the wall

Here’s another angle of the wall showing the ferns that grow along the top of the wall. 
Ferns make a soft cap for the brick wall

Ferns make a soft cap for the brick wall

I wonder how long it takes for ferns to take root on brick?
It was a hot steamy day in coastal SC.  How did the early inhabitants tolerate this climate?  No wonder there are so many eccentric Southern characters – the summer weather makes us nuts. 
In this heat we just run from air-conditioned spot to air-condidtioned spot…