Coastal Gilligan's Island

Last night Landon and I were invited to visit some folks on a coastal island. There are lots of coastal islands here, but this one was very special. So special, in fact, that I'm not going to tell you where it is. It is a kind of Secret Garden for this couple -- they have constructed their own home -- of sorts -- along with amenities.

My favorite part was the wood-heated hot tub. Made in Japan, this soaking tub operates with a mini wood stove that attaches to an oval, not round, wooden structure, which efficiently heats the water in the tub. Sitting in this tub, you have almost a 360 degree view of the coastline. It's spectacular.

So, there we were...on the dock...watching the sun go down, the dophins feeding nearby, while the new moon emerged. Looking up in the sky, I saw nothing but millions of bright stars. So clear that you could see the Milky Way. We drank wine (except for me...I had ginger ale) and ate pate and cheese and bread and we talked about everything from sustainable farming to chamber music and poetry to the state of the economy.

After awhile, we decided to go back to the mainland and so we bundled up in winter coats, blankets, hats and climbed into the boat where we talked and talked as we made our way back home, under the canopy of a dark, but star-studded sky.

So far from my life in New York, I thought. What a long strange trip this has been...

Transitions

What I do for a living is to help people through transition. Usually it is work related -- job loss or wanting to change careers or wanting to work independently.

And, now I find myself in the biggest transition of my life -- life transition.

As I sit here, on the 29th of December, reflecting back on this year, I am struck by just how much transition I have had to process this year. And, am still processing...

- from being single to married.
- from living in a great two bedroom apartment on the East Side of New York City to a beautiful home in the Lowcountry of South Carolina. Think Patrick Conroy country.
- from living in the North to living in the area where the Seccessionist movement began.
- from having 5 Starbucks' within a 4 block radius of my apartment to having to drive 35 minutes to find one coffee shop.
- from eating Cheerios for dinner to cooking deer roasts in a slow cooker and baking in the morning.
- from swing dancing in clubs in New York City to riding a horse over dikes in the country.
- from riding the 4,5 and 6 subway trains to get around the city to driving everywhere in the Envoy.
- from preparing for dates on a Friday night to sitting in deer stands with my husband.

What a long, strange trip it's been...

Christmas Trees in the South

Here's our Christmas tree...

When I lived in New York City, we would put our trees out on the street when the holiday was over. It was fun to see the city sidewalks lined with trees, smelling like balsam. What would happen to the trees? Well, the city sanitation trucks would pick up the trees and chop them up for mulch. Or, at least, that's what we were told. I always felt good about recycling the trees.

In the South, there is different way of recycling trees, just as there is a different way of doing most things.

What are we doing with our Christmas tree? We have it sitting in our front lawn, ready to be taken over to our farm property so that we can dump it in our pond. Are we littering? Careless? Nope, quite the contrary. Apparently, a Christmas tree makes a wonderful habitat for...bream. And, if you Northern city slickers are reading this and have no idea what I'm talking about, bream is a kind of fish, fish that is very important if you want to keep bass in your pond.

I'm in Chicago

It's really cold here...and snowy.

This is the snowman that Luke and Emily and I made this morning. What do you think?

We discovered that the snow isn't good for packing and that it took forever to roll the snow so that we could build this guy.

Pretty cute, don't you think?

Now, this is something I won't get to do in the South!

Becoming Mrs. Thorne

The Christmas cards have been pouring in. Every day our mailbox is chock-a-block full with well-wishers from around the globe.. Most of the cards are addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Landon Thorne or Colonel and Mrs. Landon Thorne.

And then it hits me…I am Mrs. Landon Thorne.

I still don’t really know what that means. I get a little thrill that runs down my spine when I realize that not only am I married, a state of being at which I still marvel, but that I am married to Landon Ketchum Thorne, the man of my dreams. That I am Mrs. Thorne, that we are a couple and the Christmas cards that are coming in, addressed to Mr. and Mrs., or Colonel and Mrs. are an acknowledgement of that fact.

Pinch me…