All This and College Tuition

On Sunday, we got ready to leave town and Angie arrived. We started off the trip with a bit of Carolina Barbecue and then split into 2 cars for the drive (a consequence of having 3 1/2 people who get carsick if not in a front seat or driving). Angie and I drove down together, allowing for some nice sister time. It had been a very long time since we'd been together at all, and it was a nice opportunity to talk.

We also made the drive more interesting by stopping a few times. Once, we stopped for firewood -- along highway 70, I think. Why? Well, we'd not found good ways to buy firewood here, and I wanted to be able to use the fireplace. The purchase of firewood was an adventure, in that there was an empty shack with a radio running and no human in sight. We called the number on the side and were given instructions:
"You see those piles of wood off to your right?"
"Yes"
"You want one of them?"
"Yes"
"There's a green mailbox on your left. Put $20 in there and then you can take a pile."
"Okay, thank you."
Still alone, but with the distinct feeling we were being watched, we deposited the money and lugged the wood into the trunk of the car. I felt almost as if I had just been given instructions for where to leave the suitcase of money in some surreal crime drama. We giggled as we drove off, because we felt like we had been stealing. I don't think either of us are quite used to that sensation.

The house by the wood shack. (Note the name of the website on the bottom right corner of the billboard. Also note the lovely yard sale sign. Yes, we are juvenile.)

We also stopped and bought Piggly Wiggly T-shirts. They are sure to be a hit in the land of "Ralphs" and "Vons".

Angie's blog does a great job of describing the rest of the trip to Morehaed City/Beaufort. I'll only add a few notes about the drive and the hotel. And I will share a few favorite photo memories in the next entry.

So, about the hotel... we learned that sometimes paying about $10 more for a room means a huge difference in what one can reasonable expect. Mom and Dad were kind enough to pay for our lodging, for which I am very grateful. I hasten to add that this is about the hotel, which really should have thought about providing SOME level of service, not my parents' choice of venue. The hotel claims that their laundry staff walked out on them earlier the day we arrived. The claim seems reasonable for soooo many reasons. I don't think we will soon forget the mattresses with "trenches" that you roll into in the middle of the night. The complete lack of towels in the other room. The lack of toiletries. The sheets complete with holes and rather suspcious stains. The shower wet from the previous guest, and her dirty towel hung on the back of the bathroom door (It was covered with make-up). Ahhhh. The joys of sleeping in a public bedroom. hahaha. The room didn't diminish our enjoyment of the time. We'll just add this particular hotel which shall remain unnamed to the "not staying there again" files.

The drive back I made with Dan and Angie. We stopped for firewood again. Same shack. Same erie abandoned-but-not-abandoned feeling. Knowing the drill, we deposited money and loaded up a pile, eying the nearby house suspiciously. It also looked sort of lived-in but abandoned. We were just finishing up and about to drive off, when, sure enough, a man rode up on an ATV from the building some ways away from the shack in the other direction from the house. In my mind's eye he had a rifle on his lap. I am almost certain that is an exaggeration. However, I assure you... it would not have been out of place.

I rolled down my window, greeted him, explained that I had deposited a $20 bill in the green mailbox and taken a pile of wood. He sort of grunted that that was fine, and off he drove and off we drove.


The wood shack and its proprietor.

The other memorable thing about the drive itself was our time passing through military towns. There was a stretch of a few miles where all of the fences bordering the highway had been covered by hand-made signs welcoming home various service men and women. They were brightly colored and heartfelt. We noticed that in one of these towns, almost every other building was a barber specializing in military haircuts. There were more barbers than restaurants. It gave the town a very strange feel indeed.

I close this entry with a photograph or two of the building about a block or two from our hotel. It's a US military building, and it's rather sad, worn and defeated in appearance. I think the message painted on the ramp which I suppose may sometimes display a nice heavy artillery vehicle or something similarly imposing and somehow "cool" says it all:

"All This and College Tuition."

It's too late for me now, what with my weight problems and my age... but to think I took out loans to go to UCLA when I had THIS as an option!