As in most Christmas parades, Santa was the grand finale, and for the Smithfield parade he was riding in a fire truck. However, the highlight for me was not him, but Paula Dean in a 1963 Mercury Comet.
December 10, 2011
On the March Again
Today was the annual Smithfield Christmas parade. My son, his friend, one of our dogs and I marched, or rather loosely sauntered, with the Isle of Wight County Humane Society. Our youngest dog Penny came from the Society and both of our cats did as well, though the cats stayed home with phonophobic Loretta. We participated last year as well, but today my mood was better and the parade was more fun than therapy.
As in most Christmas parades, Santa was the grand finale, and for the Smithfield parade he was riding in a fire truck. However, the highlight for me was not him, but Paula Dean in a 1963 Mercury Comet.
As in most Christmas parades, Santa was the grand finale, and for the Smithfield parade he was riding in a fire truck. However, the highlight for me was not him, but Paula Dean in a 1963 Mercury Comet.
December 1, 2011
My Morning Break
Over the Thanksgiving holiday I was able to take a much deserved, and needed, break from what is a very busy time of the year for me. As is usual for us, we went to my parents house on Virginia's beautiful Eastern Shore. Each morning I was able to take advantage of my inability to sleep-in, my dog's need to relieve themselves and decent weather.
Thanksgiving morning found me channeling Maxfield Parrish on the shore of Metompkin Bay.
On Black Friday I skipped the early early morning deals and pushy crowds in favor of visiting three bayside hamlets. The first stop was Deep Creek, which is one of several communities in Virginia to carry this name, but this one has always been a no-frills, too busy trying to eke a living, sort of place.
Just south of Deep Creek is Chesconessex, and in the middle of the creek were several crab shacks, once a much more common sight around here.
My final Black Friday morning stop was Harborton. You wouldn't know it now, but this was once a very happening place. At one time, steamships crowded the waters of the Chesapeake, and at places like Harborton, people, produce and seafood from the Eastern Shore were transported to cities like Norfolk, Washington and Baltimore. The railroads and then the trucking industry put an end to that, and now Harborton is a quiet shadow of its former self.
Saturday was our day to head home, but that morning I was treated to sky and water beautiful enough to make me want to change my address (not the first time I've felt this way).
If interested, you can see all of my photos in this set here.
Thanksgiving morning found me channeling Maxfield Parrish on the shore of Metompkin Bay.
On Black Friday I skipped the early early morning deals and pushy crowds in favor of visiting three bayside hamlets. The first stop was Deep Creek, which is one of several communities in Virginia to carry this name, but this one has always been a no-frills, too busy trying to eke a living, sort of place.
Just south of Deep Creek is Chesconessex, and in the middle of the creek were several crab shacks, once a much more common sight around here.
My final Black Friday morning stop was Harborton. You wouldn't know it now, but this was once a very happening place. At one time, steamships crowded the waters of the Chesapeake, and at places like Harborton, people, produce and seafood from the Eastern Shore were transported to cities like Norfolk, Washington and Baltimore. The railroads and then the trucking industry put an end to that, and now Harborton is a quiet shadow of its former self.
Saturday was our day to head home, but that morning I was treated to sky and water beautiful enough to make me want to change my address (not the first time I've felt this way).
If interested, you can see all of my photos in this set here.
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