Monday, April 13, 2015

Old and comfy

I've often ribbed Tim about the male propensity for very old, ratty undergarments. He says they're not old and ratty,they're soft, comfortable, and they fit just right. I actually don't know any female who hasn't registered her objection to this habit. But maybe, just maybe, I'm admitting I understand the principle, if not the execution.

One of the things we like about cruising is that we get to meet so many new people. Each anchorage, mooring or dock brings the potential for new relationships and some of these have developed into lifelong friendships. But there are some times when nothing will suffice but a good, old, comfy friend. Friday morning saw the arrival of just such a one to the marina where we're staying, our good friend Kacey.

The thing about old, comfy friends is that, no matter how much time has elapsed since the last visit, you fall right into the comfy part: laughing, telling stories, shared food which you already know you both like. It's easy. It's right.
Chatting with Kacey while watching the big ships roll by.

Don't want to break down on the way to town...
We didn't do much over the weekend, just hanging out on the boat with one foray into the historical downtown area of Charleston on a walking tour in lieu of an expensive ferry tour to the fort on the opposite shore. We ambled along old residential streets reading signs about each of the residences. We had lunch in a restaurant converted from a historical warehouse. We strolled through a few cemeteries reading the oldest stones that could still be deciphered. The oldest date of death we found was 1760 something (the last number was chipped off), although there were many more that had faded beyond reading. There were countless stones from men who served in the revolutionary war and the civil war. One family had a small fenced-in area with the stone for each of the parents and one large stone engraved with the dates of their five children, all of whom had preceded them. The youngest died at 5 days and the oldest lived to be 17. It was humbling. We take so much of our lives in this free country for granted and complain about way too much.

The high winds and rainy weather kept us pinned to the dock for the rest of Kacey's visit, so sailing with us will have to wait for another time in the fall. Even so, it was hard to say goodbye and send him on his way back to the workaday world. Tomorrow we pick up the trek northward, and in spite of the fact that it will involve some time on the ICW and a hard push of days, there will be more old, comfy friends at the other end to look forward to.

Old churches and their cemeteries abound in historical Charleston

The office and dock of the pilot boats for the harbor

You can spend a whole day just looking at the entry ways

Believe it or not, this is a garage door.

My granddaughters would want this one.

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