Friday, July 3, 2009

this southern life - Howard Finster's Paradise Gardens in Summerville, GA


While on our way through Georgia last month on vacation we stopped by Paradise Gardens. We both love Howard Finster's folk art. It was a visual trip. Attached is a video we made about our visit, we hope you like it.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

North Carolina Shore


Janet and I were chased off an island in North Carolina due to Hurricane Alex. We only enjoyed one day on Ocracoke Island before it was time to go. I'll go ahead and answer the question I get most often when I recount the story. Yes there are islands off the coast of North Carolina. There are fantastic, wonderful, non-commercial, peaceful islands and they are just a ferry ride away from Hatteras or Cedar Island.The coast of North Carolina is probably often dismissed or forgotten as a vacation choice. With serious powerhouse marketing cousins to the the south such as Myrtle, Hilton Head and Daytona it is easy to understand the absence of top of mind awareness. There are few roller coasters and even fewer big name attractions on the North Carolina Coast. I, for one, say thank God and I hope it stays that way.

Janet and I ventured to the coast to meet up with my brother, his wife and daughter at Swansboro, NC. They keep a small boat and camper there. What we really liked about the town and surrounding area was that, unlike the tourist destination beaches and coastlines, it still retains many real people and businesses. Fishing is taken seriously. Good seafood is also taken seriously, and I am so very grateful for that.

The Intercoastal Waterway cuts right through the region and provides a certain economic demand for hotels, grocery stores and repair shops to serve those navigating their way south. Our plan was to spend the day with my family and the next morning Janet and I would continue our drive to Cedar Island and then take the ferry over to Ocracoke. The North Carolina Department of Transportation provides ferry service to Ocracoke and places as far north as Knotts Island and as far south as Southport. 
We spent our first day on vacation playing in the mouth of the Atlantic Ocean. The Pamlico Sound makes for some awesome boating and exploring. A couple of centuries ago my brother would have been the perfect sea captain. He is the one I would want at the helm if I were crossing the ocean. He is alot like the guy on the box of Morton's Seafood. (see painting below) 


I have never known another person more 
knowledgeable about the ocean, fish, aquatic wildlife and all things salty . 

He gave us all a tour of the small uninhabited islands and sand berms in the area. We collected sharks teeth and saw manta rays, dolphins and shadows of large fish/creatures that we didn't want to know what they were. Upon returning to the camper we all sat around by the shore and enjoyed my brother's cooking, simple yet delicious skewed, buttered and flame cooked scallops, shrimp, and chunks of flounder and all caught the day before just a few hundred feet from where we enjoyed their buttery goodness. There is nothing like talking and laughing with family while the sun is slowly setting when you can feel the warmth of summer all around you. If you throw in eating fresh seafood complimented with corn on the cob and chased with an ice cold beer then you have the recipe for a really special memory.
The next morning we wanted to get going early. We partook in some kettle coffee my brother had brewed out on the campfire and hit the road. From Swansboro we headed to Moorehead City, Beaufort, Otway then Davis and Stacy. Just past Masontown we drove into the marshland and after about a half hour of seeing only reeds and swampy landscape we arrived at the loading dock for the ferry boat. I must admit I was a little concerned about our transportation. I had never been on one and this was a two and a half hour long initiation for me. I hoped for the best.


Driving the car onto the boat was a trip. It was like parking the car at the county fair or one of those tourist lots
behind Gatlinburg, Tennessee's main drag: Every inch was precious. It didn't take long for me to settle down and enjoy the ride. The ferry boat was substantial and felt really solid. They have indoor areas to sit and it reminded me a little bit of like being on a bus but larger and more spacious.







They also had restrooms and allowed smoking on the deck, they have probably gone to non-smoking by now though. The trip was smooth sailing and we got off on Ocracoke Island before noon of that day. We had reservations at Blackbeards Inn that night, but couldn't check in until three or four pm, so this gave us time to explore the island. I remember my first impression was that I felt like we were in a foreign country. We saw many people riding bicycles and walking.  The island is about seventeen miles long and spoon shaped. All of the commerce is done in the round spoon part of it and the rest of the island, is part of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore, and it remains in its natural state. The little village of Ocracoke is a great destination itself. Most of the buildings date back to the 1950s fishing village, a walk around reveals its small houses, narrow streets, and lack of big name stores or restaurants. There is a great Civil War marker there as well as a museum and gift shop and the entire area celebrates its pirate heritage and connection to Blackbeard. Arrrrrrg

The National Seashore features Banker Ponies. They have reportedly been there since before the 1730's. They are a mystery as to how they got there, but now they are protected residents of the island. Currently they are cared for by the National Park Service and penned away from traffic. We cut our trip short and only had one day and one night on Ocracoke because of Hurricane Alex. Instead of being bummed about our misfortune we decided we would try to stay ahead of Alex and visit the rest of the outer banks on our flight from the storm, up to Hattaras then to Nags Head over to Roanoake Island and out. Although we were urgent we never felt rushed. We stopped and took pictures of every light house we passed and stopped on Roanoke Island to visit the museum and see the artifacts from the Lost Colony. By nightfall we were well inland at a Rocky Mount hotel, safe from Alex and feeling like we had salvaged our vacation. The next couple of days were spent slowly working our way back to Tennessee and home. We stopped in Old Salem and Mount Airy. We had an entire week planned on the Island, but the hurricane proved to us yet again it is always the journey that makes the best memories.

Ocracoke's Island slogan- May not be the easiest place to get to but worth a visit!

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Thieving Bastards Burn In Hell

Boones Mill, Virginia 

We spotted this on State Hwy 220. 
Boones Mill is located just a dozen or so miles south of Roanoke.
We stopped at a neighboring business and asked why this person posted this giant condemnation. The proprietor told us that there had been a string of robberies in the area and the sign poster had an ATV stolen from him. He was hopping mad. The police couldnt do anything about it so he just vented his displeasure with all the people passing by on hwy 220. Gotta love the south.

In related news. I have a new I-Phone. This is so cool because now when I see a sign like this one we spotted it will be easier to photograph. I am so excited.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Angels on High

Coffin with angel flying above it  #finster #travel #lp on Twitpic

This was in the small chapel at Howard Finster's Paradise Garden in Somerville, GA

The Rumor of my Death had been Greatly Exaggerated

A little girl was perched precariously on a rock in the middle of the Little River with a three foot drop off behind her and me heading straight for her in my inner tube. I inched closer and closer. I looked up and said I am so sorry that I will be knocking you into the raging rapids below. I hoped she would forgive me. Then she did the unexpected. She lifted one foot out of the icy water and then spread her arms like Ralph Macchio in the movie The Karate Kid and as I approached she kicked my inner tube and sent me sailing and spinning into the briar patch on the edge of the river and needless to say I lay low. She then asked for a hand to help her off the rock and I obliged. Hmmm
While vacationing in Gatlinburg, Tennessee last week my nephews Jamie and Jordan accompanied my brother-in-law, George, and I on a tubing adventure. While we waited for our turn to pile in the little yellow van with the tubes to be driven up river only to be released to float peacefully down stream, a little boy and his family were coming out of the water from their adventure. The little boy was banged up. He had scrapes and scratches, bumps and bruises. Raspberries abound. He started offering us advice on how to properly tube to keep from suffering the same fate. I looked at George and snarked that I was not about to listen to an eight year old boy on the fine art of tubing. Ha that'll be the day.

We set in and all floated nicely for a little while. Cutting up and laughing. I held onto my nephew’s feet and he paddled through the calm water. About ten inches below us were some of the slipperiest moss covered rocks you will ever see. Beautiful.
After that it all changed, it became a blur of sorts. The water flow increased. I began to struggle to hold onto Jamie’s feet. He insisted that I was causing them to drag the bottom and said to stop "Waterboarding" his feet. The tosses became more violent and the current more forceful. Soon I was out of my tube and flailing around under water. My other nephew Jordan said I looked like a turtle on the back of his shell. The more I fought to get up the more I slipped, slid and spun around in the water. When I finally found my footing and stood up I slipped again. Wash, rinse and repeat. I did finally get up and stay up long enough to see two little girls float by. George had suffered a worse fate than the cuts and scrapes I endured. He had a limp tube. Busted on the rocks. Jamie and Jordan soon floated away. George and I decided to walk back. Asphalt is hot when you have lost your flip flops in the river. The walk of shame, however didn’t last long. The same yellow van that took us up the road was coming back from another drop off and picked us up.

When my wife Janet and my sister Teresa returned from shopping in Townsend they were surprised to see George and I bandaged up and sitting in rocking chairs waiting for Jamie and Jordan to finish the journey. Janet told us she had returned early to take pictures of our triumphant return. Teresa asked how long we lasted. It is un-known to the rest of the family, but I can not tell a lie. Ten minutes. Yes ten grueling minutes. Ten tortuous, skin scraping, water breathing, ninja kicking minutes. They shook their heads and grinned.

Jamie and Jordan finally returned. As I was sharing the story of our separate route back with them several people started to come out of the river. Little girls. Little puppies. The Knoxville Senior citizen fieldtrip. The paraplegic club of Maryville. Need I say more? We enjoyed several minutes of ridicule that lasted several more during lunch and several more on the way back to our rented condo. Jamie hurriedly rushed to his computer and started to type furiously. We all looked with some curiosity. He said he wanted to get the story in print on Face book before we could embellish it with tall tales of mis-information. Ha. He concluded that many lies would be made up about the "fall" the "Limp tube" and the "Walk of shame back." So he decided to take a stab at what he thought I would write in my blog about the adventure.

So here in its entirety is our guest blogger Jamie Happney with what he thought I'd write about the adventure.


So a lot of things happened on my trip to Gatlinburg this weekend. Most notably of all was our trip tubing the river the last day we were there. It was my dad, my brother, my Uncle Dan, and myself. Now to me, it was a fairly normal case of tubing. Many times on the river minor things happen, such as a few small cuts on rocks, a popped tube, losing an item of clothing. You know, something like that. What basically happened was about 15 to 20 minutes on the water we hit our first set of rapids. I’m navigating fairly easily as was my dad and my brother, but 30 yards behind us Uncle Dan is hung on a rock and spinning around in a circle. Then a 5 year-old girl runs into Dan, knocking him off the rock he had run aground upon sending him towards a large boulder. On this boulder is another small girl trying to regain her balance on the slick surface. Uncle Dan is heading straight towards her apologizing for the collision he is about to cause. It’s a good thing this little girl had more wherewithal than my grown uncle. She pushes his tube away from the rock with her foot and Uncle Dan is sent into the deeper part of the rapids before being completely flipped over. He lost his hat and his flip-flops. Now the extent of Uncle Dan’s injuries is he had a nice scrape on his knee…that’s it. While all of this is going on, my dad, brother and me are just treading water waiting on the great adventurer. My brother starts rocking dad’s tube and slams it into a sharp rock. Dad’s tube is now popped and he and Uncle Dan decide to walk back to the car down stream. Not the best scenario, but hey, it’s normal. By the time Jordan and I get back to the car, Uncle Dan has added so many skewed details to the afternoon’s events, I just had to recall his version of the story.

Enjoy…

“We crawled from the wreckage of our plane right at sunrise. We headed off down the Amazon like river full of rapids and dangerous wild life. We had to fasten makeshift rafts from lifeboats salvaged from the plane. While heading down the river my nephew Jordan gets too far ahead. We never saw him again. My other nephew Jamie was stuck on a rock because a gator had chased him from his raft and now had him treed. I killed the beast with my bare hands before rescuing him and giving him my raft. Only I was brave enough to venture the water alone without at raft. I was swimming along behind Jamie keeping an eye on things when we were attacked by a she-ninja. She stood a good seven feet, three hundred pounds. I tried befriending the ninja woman, but she karate kicked me in the chest. Kicked me so hard my shoes and hat flew off, and I never saw them again either. It was at this point I begin to notice a drowning sensation, because I was drowning. My leg was caught in a spinning whirlpool caused by a hole to an underground cavern. I held my breath as my brother-in-law George and I were sucked down into the cave. We landed in a cavern that housed an old pirate ship. We wanted no more of this adventure, so we headed towards a light on the other side of the cave. We find our way back to the surface of Earth and got back into the river. All of a sudden, the largest grizzly bear in reported history attacked us from above. To our surprise, a hunter came from nowhere and shot the bear seven times…and George once. I don’t know whether it was the adrenaline or sheer masculinity, but not until I began writing this did I realize the massive wound to my knee from the bear’s tire-rim-sized paws. If I had to venture a guess, I would say all major tendons and ligaments are torn. George and I finally reached what looks like civilization. However, having lost my shoes, I was not thrilled to find that the next mile of road we had to walk on was made of broken glass and salt. After an hour of gruesome walking, we reached the ranger station to find Jamie waiting for us with a severe gash in his head. We were able to call our family to come rescue us. All was well, however, there’s no telling how long it will be before I fully recover from not only my physical injuries, but the psychological wounds as well.”

Tangled Bicycle Structure at Howard Finster's Paradise Garden in Georgia

Tangled Bicycle Structure at Paradise Garden in Georgia #fins... on Twitpic

Is it just me or do you see the swirling vortex of lights that seem to be heading inward?

Friday, June 12, 2009

RT Mabry Mill, Virginia in Widescreen and HD