Where we're heading next:
Home Sweet Home
Quote of the Day
Peanut, "Wow, mom, now we can say we've been to all 50 states! What are we gonna do next?"
As a side note we're having History Overload.
Before leaving South Carolina, I'd like to mention two things that are special to the Charleston area: sweet grass baskets and Lowcountry Cuisine.
Along the road in little shacks, and in every shop, tourist attraction and open market there are African American
women selling and weaving sweet grass baskets. They are lovely! We bought a little one for Grandma, but I never actually found the perfect one for me.
The weaver told me that she had just taught her nephew to weave 2 years ago, and that her family has been weaving for 7 generations. You can find them here, and on the coast of West Africa. That's it. Prices are high, but I suspect they should even be higher.
We found ourselves wandering around looking for a dinner spot the other night, when we happened upon an intriguing restaurant down a pretty alley. It turned out to be 82 Queen Restaurant where we discovered Lowcountry Cuisine. This will go down forever as a particularly savory memory for me!
Tomcat and I also had the good fortune of a dinner date (thank you, thank you, Grandma) and we had to find more of this delectably gooey fare which was pretty easy. Describing what makes this food different is tricky but we decided it has to start with some kind of starch like cornbread or grits (which are highly underrated in my opinion), then smothered with a delicious sauce and seafood.
Check out my breakfast this morning: "shrimp and grits" which showed up covered in brown gravy. The server said it was a standard breakfast item; looked bad, tasted deeeelicious.
Crossing into Georgia today, we did a U-turn for our Welcome to South Carolina picture and I said, "Who's crazy enough to get out for a picture in the rain?" As it turns out Grandma is the only sane person we've got with us.
Being told there are 3 things a 1st-timer must do in Charleston (Charles Towne Landing, visit a plantation and take a carriage or trolley tour), we were surprised by our spontaneous boat trip to Ft. Sumter today. We're in cahoots that this should definitely be on the list for any 1st time visitor to Charleston!
Peanut and Little Man earned their 7th Junior Ranger badge and they
worked incredibly hard on it. The assignments were complicated and full of meaningless names and dates. We all received a good lesson on flags and cannons, but our goal (with or without earning the badge) was for them to have a good understanding of the basics:
1. There were tensions between the North and South long before the Civil War. (I'd like to note that tensions happens to be a complicated word to understand when you're 8, 6 and 4, along with the labels Union and Confederate.)
2. When Lincoln became president, South Carolina basically said, "We're outa here."
3. Problem! South Carolina wanted Ft. Sumter which they could see from their shore. The North had control of it and refused to leave. The leaders of each side were friends at the time so it was a horrible situation; they tried to be honorable to each other and in the end only one guy died (accidentally from a cannon misfire). The Unionists split.
4. The Battle of Ft. Sumter is important because it essentially started the Civil War. Also, it was the longest battle in the Civil War (36 hours straight) and among the longest anywhere in modern warfare.
5. South Carolina won Ft. Sumter but the Unionists won the Civil War.
We also had to have a long discussion about the word "us" because the kids kept referring to "us" as the winners of the Civil War. I explained that kids from South Carolina don't feel like "them"; they feel like "us", too. I knew they meant that we agree with the North, but somehow their use of the word really rubbed me wrong. Maybe it was just the tone?
I continued to explain that the word "us" was incredibly important to President Lincoln and I wanted them to understand why. He wanted the UNION more than anything in his life, and that's why he didn't remove the stars representing the southern states from the flag when the Civil War started. He wanted everyone to believe we could overcome this trial as a country, and continue to be a union despite our differences. This country is called the United States so that we can all be "us". Further more, we weren't even alive then, so we weren't "us" or "them".
Charles Towne Landing was the original settlement here in 1670, and it's built on high ground (a whopping 10 feet above sea level!); the Europeans settled inland when they realized the natives were hospitable, but the pirates and Spanish were a nuisance to say the least.
The need for trade won out, however, and after only a decade they moved to the current Charleston location -- much of which is below sea level and on the nation's 2nd worst fault line -- both hurricanes and earthquakes can take charge here!
We walked the entire grounds with an audio set, and visited the zoo. It's full of animals that were native to the settlement, but no longer there, like pumas and black bear. Our highlight was definitely the guide on The Adventure, a reproduction boat docked in the marsh.
He was knowledgeable and genuinely into his history, seafaring songs and riddles. When Little Man asked why all the oyster shells were lying on the bank, he responded with, "Well, I ate them!" Then, engaging their noggins he asked, "But why do you think I toss the shells over there?" ((To prevent erosion on the bank and to keep oysters producing!)
He did his best to stay true to the 17th century, but he knew an awful lot about The Hobbit! He got tickled with the kids as we were leaving and the next thing we knew he'd sprinted off the boat and plunked right down on the deck, refusing to let anyone pass until they could answer his riddles. Little did he know, he'd met his match in Peanut!
Whatever memories from this trip actually make it to adulthood, I know for certain that a memory was made tonight: Little Man was Knighted.
There are only a handful of Medieval Times locations and Myrtle Beach happens to be one of them. For the love of my Little Man, we just had to go. Now, it's difficult to describe precisely what was experienced here; sublime grandeur, fantasy turned reality, something truly magical if you're a 6 year old boy who wants to be Knight when he grows up.
When you walk in, you're given a paper crown, your picture is taken and you're told who your Knight is; you cheer for your own Knight and boo the others throughout the show. It's set up like a tournament, with games of skill, presented to a King at his dinner party.
Before the show began they held a Knighting Ceremony. Little Man was the only one who participated so he was treated rather special -- he even had his name congratulated during the show with commentary about our 50 States Road Trip!
After the show the kids got to meet the big, sweaty Knights (and the princess) to have their pictures taken and get autographs. They were full of questions and awe, and it reminded me of Santa Claus -- their minds knew the Knights weren't real, yet in their hearts they believed they were real.
Apparently Little Man had a serious talk with one of them, because he is dead set on returning here when he's 15 years old to start training! Keep in mind that these Knights fight with real weapons and armor, and are impressive horsemen.
Dinner incidentally is served during the show, without silverware! Dragon soup made of ears, tails and eyeballs was our first course. Practically an entire roast chicken was plunked on our plates next, along with ribs, bread and some kind of potato. The girls dug in, but Little Man almost changed professions. Almost.
And one final important note: The Medieval Times gift shop reigns superior and believe me, I'd lay odds that I've been in more gift shops than any of you this year. In the end Doodle and Little Man were fully decorated -- and although I never thought we'd top his ukulele (see Hawaii post), tonight Little Man was adorned with his best souvenirs yet.
The ferry was 2 hours but it felt like 4. Things got really fun when we all heard a hissing sound in the car -- no, not a snake. We finally realized that Doodle was standing on a bottle of sunscreen, which sprayed goo all over the cds. It reminded me of the old desitin days...
Oh, how we longed for the slick ferries in Puget Sound with their comfy chairs and their full galley. Processed food from a vending machine for dinner was a first; they each chose some version of cracker, with their penny sticks for dessert. Grandma and I skipped.
The marshes on the North Carolina mainland were absolutely breathtaking at sunset, but I was so nervous about driving in the dark on these winding roads that I just stayed focused on getting to the main road, Hwy 17. Grandma was shaking her finger at me to slow down... so you all know what happened next.
The North Carolina cop was really nice and swift. I told him why I was hurrying and he told me that was no excuse (slap!) and to slow down. No ticket. I got gas, and some bottles of water and we were off again.
Still, it seemed next to impossible to only go 45mph on these roads. I guess the speed limit is so low because every now and then there's a little town with a stoplight. Consider this extreme torture for someone who learned to drive in Texas.
(We crossed the state line into South Carolina, skipping the picture since it was pitch black outside. We'll do a U-turn with Tomcat when we get to Georgia.)
About 10 minutes into South Carolina, those familiar flashing lights reappeared in my mirror again! I looked at this new cop, questioning, and he said, "The speed limit is still 45mph here." ARRRRRRRRRRRGH. Panic set in when I couldn't turn up my wallet to show him my license. Naturally, I wanted to avoid telling this cop, "Well, I just had it 20 minutes ago when the North Carolina cop pulled me over." And the thought of driving BACK to retrieve my wallet was simply unbearable. Suddenly, I had a thought and asked the cop if I could get out and check the back. Sure enough, my wallet was nestled right in the middle of the bottles of water. Whew.
No ticket again, and I can't explain it. Personally demoralized, I felt like I was crawling my way through traffic but apparently it was an illusion. Blue flashing lights one more time. I wanted to cry. The cop pulled up along side us, gave me a scowling face and the hand motion to slooooooow down. After that, I hid behind the slowest car I could find.
If the Las Vegas Strip had a beach, it'd be called Myrtle Beach. We were totally unprepared for the neon, smut and fancy resorts. Still, it was just nice to finally be here and out of the car. We were all asleep by midnight and I was dreaming of a day off.
