Lowcountry lullaby

TG and I spent this past weekend in Charleston.

Audrey went along and we stayed at a friend's vacation house on Folly Beach.

The reason for our trip was that each year TG's alma mater, The Citadel, hosts an alumni game.

TG says he's going to play in it until he's the oldest guy out there.

This time there was a member of the Class of '65 on the court, so I think we'll be going back for a few more years.

When we arrived on Friday afternoon it was seventy-five degrees and gloriously sunny.

We didn't pause to unpack before changing our shoes and setting off on the three-minute walk to the beach.

Javier could barely contain himself when he saw the ocean. He gets emotional at such times.

It wasn't long before he'd made a friend. Sort of. Look at their tails! I think the bigger dog was mainly amused at Javier's enthusiasm.

It'd been a long while since Audrey had visited the seashore. I think she'd forgotten how interesting it can be.

The sunset was more peaceful than dramatic, but it's always special.

On Saturday morning we took another walk on the beach and up onto the pier. Pigeons there are not afraid of anything. I think this one is accustomed to close proximity with a lens.

After our walk, it was time to head over to The Citadel for the two o'clock alumni tip-off.

TG shook hands with several old friends, then took to the court for a warm-up. I caught him in mid air and yes, the ball went in.

Following the game (alumni won handily), we met up with TG's college roommate for a walk around the campus.

As the new supplier of the iconic, intricately detailed stoneless Citadel ring, in recent months Balfour has added a giant brass replica to one corner of the parade ground.

The sculpture weighs thirty-eight hundred pounds and is ninety times the size of an actual Citadel ring.

TG and Jim posed to give you an idea of its scale.

That evening we were treated to a nice meal in a window-walled area high in McAlister Field House, overlooking the arena.

We met General, the current Bulldog mascot. He was fairly bursting with personality and his mouth could not contain his tongue.

The Citadel's record being what it is, the stands weren't exactly groaning with fans when the Bulldogs took the court against the Furman Paladins.

But it was fun and I did spot a few knobs. I think they saw me too.

The Bulldogs lost to the Paladins. It's a bitter rivalry so TG and Jim were less than thrilled although not exactly surprised.

On Sunday morning we went to church, then back out to the beach. Seagulls filled the air with their cries when they weren't swooping and landing.

A lone sandpiper strutted the sandy edge as though he had the deed to the entire Atlantic stashed in a safe deposit box.

I leave you with the musical stylings of a gregarious grackle who serenaded us from his perch on the pier. I love his level of intensity and that dice-in-a-cup clacking thing he does.

Happy Monday and Happy Week!

The steps of a good man

Monterey Square, Savannah, Georgia ~ May 2010As promised, here is my homage to TG on his sixtieth birthday.

I have a firm belief that babies are born on their birthdays.

Maybe that's why I vividly remember my children's birthdays but I cannot recall the "due date" of a single one of them.

Be that as it may, I think it's interesting that my mother tells me I arrived precisely on the day I was due.

TG, however, showed up six weeks earlier than expected.

Which is interesting because of the two of us, I am the least patient.

Trust me on this.

TG watching his family play ~ December 2011

Baby TG gave his poor mother a proper fright as she was by herself on a train trying to get from Cleveland to relatives in Painesville (Ohio) in time for the surprise birth.

TG's dad was on the road, playing basketball against the Harlem Globetrotters.

TG's Citadel basketball letter jacket

He planned to be home for the big event but all plans, as they tend to do, went awry.

So TG was born in late January instead of early March. If he'd just hung in there a little longer, he wouldn't be sixty yet.

TG with Bill Hoerr and brother Ron ~ January 2011

Think about it.

Also, since my birthday is in early March, if he hadn't been so antsy, we might have birthdays within a few days of one another or even on the same day.

TG and me with Stephanie ~ November 1981

But I do believe babies come on their birthdays so a mooter point I never discussed for so long.

When a person turns sixty I think some things should be said about him. And who better to say things about TG than the one who knows him best and loves him most?

TG on Wall Street, NYC ~ May 2011

And has a blog? And can talk a blue streak?

I have means, motive, and opportunity.

TG and me with Stephanie, Audrey, and Erica ~ November 1986

TG and I met in February, 1976. Thirty-six years ago. He had graduated from The Citadel two years earlier but I was not yet nineteen.

We had our first date on August 24, 1978, in Chicago, Illinois. We married on June 16, 1979, in Atlanta, Georgia. TG told me while we were dating that all he'd ever wanted was a wife and family.

Oh Yes I Do ~ June 1979

Except later it came out that he harbored a secret dream of coaching the Chicago Bulls. Ah well.

When it comes to dreams, we go big or go home.

Class of '74

TG is the last of the nice guys. Seriously. Find a nicer guy and I will admit I'm wrong but I don't intend to hold my breath.

Sure he has faults and I know most of them. But I won't reveal any and do you know why? Because I have more than him, and he'd cut his tongue out before he'd tell you even one of mine.

Freshman at The Citadel ~ August 1970

Charleston, South Carolina ~ January 2012

I had to suppress laughter the other day when I was in a deposition. The case was a bitter divorce and the wife was testifying while her estranged husband of nearly four decades glared at her from across the table.

Schererville, Indiana ~ Christmas 1987

She said he once tried to choke her with a sock. I know, I know. That part's tragic and not funny at all. And I never could figure out if she meant he shoved the sock down her throat or put it around her neck.

Schererville, Indiana ~ Fall 1988

But the reason I had to choke back a chuckle was, TG is always coming at me with socks.

He's yet to strangle or gag me with one, although I don't dare ask him if he's been tempted.

Highland, Indiana ~ October 1989

If I'm relaxing in my chair at the end of the day, TG often comes over and starts massaging my feet because he knows how much I love that.

Invariably I've forgotten to put on socks and my feet are blocks of ice with toes. I have a throw blanket over me but I don't like covers on my feet.

Chicago, Illinois ~ November 1990

"Precious Girl! Your feet are cold!" TG will declare (he almost always calls me Precious Girl. I am TG's PG).

Then he goes and gets my socks -- he knows just the ones -- and gently tugs them into place.

Knoxville, Tennessee ~ November 1991

That's what I'm talking about.

TG's always working quietly in the background to provide for me and our kids. There's no sniveling, no self-pity. He doesn't whine and he never reminds you of all he's done for you.

Knoxville, Tennessee ~ November 1993

He learned that from his father, who operated in exactly the same way.

TG smells really, really good and of course he's inordinately handsome.

Columbia, South Carolina ~ Christmas 2010

Once when we were having a snack at a restaurant in New York, someone came to our table and asked TG if he was Tom Brokaw.

Mr. Brokaw wishes he were as young and good-looking as my TG.

Greenville, South Carolina ~ November 1994

TG is a great American and a committed conservative. He doesn't just talk about the issues; he knows them inside-out and stays informed.

Everything he believes, he endorses from a place of intelligence, compassion, and conviction.

Hickory, North Carolina ~ September 2011

He is a gentleman and a scholar. TG has given most of his adult life to educating young people. He is an excellent teacher.

TG has the nicest smile. It makes his eyes glow.

TG and Allissa ~ November 2011

He's a devoted Papaw. The Tarheel Tootsies love him to bits. Last night they couldn't wait to talk to him on the phone. Even Melly squeaked out a few syllables that I know she meant as Happy Birthday.

TG is a loyal and loving son, brother, uncle, and friend. The ties may reach across long years and miles, but they are strong and they are authentic.

Hickory, North Carolina ~ September 2011

TG is a fine Christian man. He works at it and his faith, like his patriotism, is heartfelt. He doesn't use phony lingo or put on affectations of spirituality.

If you know him, you realize it's genuine.

Columbia, South Carolina ~ Christmas 2011

If you were to follow him around, watching and listening, you'd understand what I mean.

He's a sweetheart. He's my sweetheart.

Columbia, South Carolina ~ May 2010

His children look up to him. They love and respect him because they experience his love and respect for them.

In wishing her dad a happy birthday last night, Stephanie said: "I hope you have lots more, Dad."

Rossford, Ohio ~ January 2011

Indeed. Lots more. Happy Birthday, dear TG.

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The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD: and he delighteth in his way.

Psalm 37:23

Happy Birthday Dear TG

TG turns sixty today.

I know, right? He's having difficulty believing it too.

Just so you're aware, he's married to a much, much younger woman.

Wanted to get that settled right out of the gate, her front name being Vanity and her center name being Ego.

I don't normally do this -- what am I saying? I've never done this -- but I'm going to have to finish this post later tonight.

It's been an interesting week for me but I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say I haven't had time to get this together.

So I'm going to run some errands and make preparations for TG's birthday celebration.

Be back later y'all. Do stay tuned.

She bit the butter but the butter bit back

Photo courtesy of Food NetworkI guess you've heard tell of Paula Deen's troubles this past week, what with The Lady coming clean about being not so healthy for the past three years.

DIE-A-BEE-TEASE, y'all.

The big D.

Not for the wimpy of gizzard.

You let that thing go, you start losing toes and it's not exactly a week at the seashore.

Chef Deen's got a penchant for butter so prodigious, they say a single bite of one of her richest "best dishes" gives your body all the fat grams it needs for an entire month.

Indulge in that fashion for long and next thing you know, you're bellied up to a fried-cheesecake buffet and it's all you can eat and you think you've died and gone straight to heaven, skipping purgatgory altogether ... except then you glance around and who's loading up a plate beside you but the Grim Reaper himself.

Which is why after hearing the news, I pureed my printout of Paula's killer Crock Pot Mac 'n Cheese recipe and back-burnered several more bookmarked PD butter-rific concoctions (a few of which we sampled over the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays).

Then TG and I stocked up on spinach and broccoli and carrots and celery and peppers and cucumbers and whatnot.

Because hear me: butter is addictive. You don't want to become a butter junkie like Paula. Naw, huh-uh.

But there's still Tavin Dillard and his unbeatable butter philosophy, in which I've yet to find a loophole.

Happy Monday!

I send y'all love ... and hot buttered baby green peas.

SkyWatch Friday: Freedom isn't free

Independence Hall on May 11, 2011

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.

~Ronald Reagan~

Happy Weekend from South Carolina!

 Smiling Faces ~ Beautiful Places ~ Beaucoup Conservatives

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