Trail Guy wanted me to show you Scout and the grandkitties as they appeared yesterday. They are almost 2 weeks old now.
Now, back to Georgia. It took some focused discipline to concentrate on painting a new way when there were so many new sights to see. I was a good student, but I was eager for the next stage of exploring the area after class.
I want to know how many of the outbuildings were slave quarters, now referred to as “tabby cabins” because of the building material, called “tabby”.
This was not a fancy plantation house; the owners had their fancy home in Savannah.
The wildflowers weren’t profuse like they are in Three Rivers and most parts of California right now, but they were present.
Fresh flowers on the mantel of the fireplace in the building that housed the bathrooms.
Fresh flowers in the bathroom too.
I took the official tour of the plantation house. Our guide was knowledgable but less than vigorous, so the outbuildings were not included.
The rooms felt crowded to me. This is probably because we are giants compared to the era when those folks were alive.
Someone spent many hours knitting this bedspread, but what else was there to do, besides tell slaves what to do? So hard to imagine that life.
On the way to Laurel’s house after we painted, she dropped me off at the beach. THE ATLANTIC OCEAN BEACH!
It rained on me while the sun was also shining. I was ridiculously happy about it all.
Lots of weird jellyfish, and I only found 3 shells, which I left on the railing when I put my shoes back on.
After our visit at Laurel’s house, where she gave me a much needed private lesson in brush washing (how have my brushes survived my ignorance all these years?), I went to find the lighthouse that was featured in Eugenia Price’s novels, where I first learned of St. Simons Island. This is not the lighthouse.
THIS is the lighthouse! It is so much fancier than I imagined, all dressed up in a well manicured park area, surrounded by perfectly maintained historic brick buildings.
Look at these shadows on the side of the lighthouse. And you can bet there weren’t perfectly pruned shrubs around it in the era of the book I read.
I wonder if this lightkeeper’s cottage was the original. I wasn’t there during touring hours.
I walked back to the car along the beach, just full of gratitude that I got to be there and see these places.
