The Return

This weekend marked the first time I've been back to Deltaville in a year.  In my last post, I explained the family drama/crisis that had been going on since October last year.  Because of it, I refused to spend time at the house on the creek for fear it was going to be taken away.  Thankfully, the crisis has been resolved in our favor, the house is safe, I've headed back and there's going to be a big ass party next weekend. It seemed fitting that this return to Deltaville was heralded with a special full moon.  August's full moon is known as the Sturgeon Moon because the sturgeon fish is more easily caught in August and early September than other months according to the Almanac.  It was especially fitting that the full Sturgeon Moon rose this Saturday night over my much loved Sturgeon Creek. I took it as an omen of good things to come.

Stay tuned for an update on the ginormous celebration this coming weekend, and for more posts about Deltaville in general.

 It's good to be back.

Blood and Water

They say blood is thicker than water. It's a simple proverb that says the loyalties and relationships within a family are stronger than anything else.

I'm here to tell you how sometimes water is thicker.

It's been a while since I've blogged here.  September 28, 2017 is in fact my last post where I said I was going to get back into regular blogging about Deltaville.  Shortly after, the unthinkable happened.

Many know the deep seated love I have for our small piece of property in Middlesex County, VA.  If you've been a regular follower of this blog, you may have heard mention of family history stories that go back to the time of the Civil War- or the War of Northern Aggression as my late great-great-grandmother Sissy used to say.  The truth is that the property has been in the family since 1650.  That's 368 years.  368 years of family history on one piece of land.  In the course of those 368 years, the property was passed down and divided up and passed down generation after generation until it became the parcels that it is today.  And one of those small slices of the original property belonged to my grandparents and upon their death went to my father and his 2 sisters.

All my life I have been going to Deltaville.  With the exception of a few trips to Disney World, some camping trips and my honeymoon, all of my vacations have been to Deltaville.  Nearly every Memorial Day weekend, 4th of July, Labor Day weekend, week long vacations and regular weekend getaways were made to the small house on Sturgeon Creek. Growing up, my cousin and I would spend weeks at a time there together.  And with our great-Uncle next door, more cousins usually showed up during the course of our visit.  We played epic games of capture the flag, helped haul fishing nets and crab pots, went on secret midnight prank adventures and spent time boating and swimming.  It was and idyllic place and a perfect childhood of camaraderie and adventure.

And there was Pepop.  (you can read a post about him here).

Really no words can come close to explaining how much Deltaville means to me.  It holds some of my happiest memories as a child, as a parent and as a grandparent.  I have always felt a contentment here that I have not felt anywhere else.  Even in those times where life was rough or uncertain or just plain ugly and vicious, Deltaville was always there to soothe.  Like the sacred Ganges River of India, the waters of the Rappahannock River and Sturgeon Creek healed.

There was an understanding from a young age that Deltaville would always be a part of our family.  I can remember my grandmother explaining that as each person passed away, the house would be inherited by the children so that it would never leave the family. It's easy to think that's how things will go.

You trust your family to keep something so important, so ancient, so sacred- protected.

So not long after my last post at the end of September last year, the unthinkable happened.  One of my father's sisters passed away unexpectedly.  In the aftermath, my father said something I thought I would never hear, "Deltaville might have to be sold."

I can say that in that moment one of my worst fears was realized, and I went tail spinning into a depression unlike any other I have experienced.  Still, there was hope that it wasn't a possibility.  After all, my grandmother always said it was to be passed to each generation never to be sold.  I held onto that belief.

The 1/3 share that was owned by my father's late sister was inherited by her husband and daughter equally.  And to make a long and upsetting story shorter- they wanted a buy out.  That seems simple enough.  The house gets appraised and you offer the person an exact third of the appraisal and everyone is happy.  Except people are greedy and vengeful, and they hold something you love hostage while they extort money from you.  Because that's what family did here.  That's what blood did.  The blood that is supposed to value the family relationship above all else.  Threats were made to petition the court to have the property sold at auction.  It seemed bleak. I refused to go down there. We all just held our breath and waited.

Death is an awful thing for the living.  It seems to bring out the worst in some.  It feeds the darkest parts of a person, creating a monster that can do nothing but bring about pain and anguish to the already grieving.  I'm certain there's a special place in hell for that sort of monster- a spot that lets them fester and rot alone.

On the opposite side of that coin, in situations like this you learn who really is blood.  Sometimes it's actual family and sometimes it's just friends you've made there over the years.  People who do what they can to help and offer assistance.  This town has some really damn good people.

It's with a massive amount of relief and happiness that I can report as of this past Friday,

the house is safe.  

Because when there's 368 years of history and untold happy memories, you do what you must to protect it.

As for blood being thicker than water,

 the waters of the Rappahannock River and Sturgeon Creek proved to be far thicker than blood. 

Give this a listen.  I particularly relate to the line: 

"I've been searching for something, taken out of my soul, something I'd never lose, something somebody stole" 

Thank God they didn't get away with it.

Wordless Wednesday: Wildlife

Two for Tuesday

I know this looks a lot like teamwork.

But really it's Bailey (the chocolate lab)

being a dock diving dog and a fast swimmer

getting the stick first

and Bindi (the yellow lab) sitting in wait

and going to steal the stick. 

Sometimes Bindi even pushes Bailey under because Bailey

won't give up the stick.

Dogs are goofy.

Monday Meditation

 “To the sea, to the sea! The white gulls are crying,
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling,
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,
The voices of my people that have gone before me?

I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;
For our days are ending and our years failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,

In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people forever!”  

~J.R.R. Tolkien Lord of the Rings

(I actually searched for "life ring quotes" as I had a photo of a life ring on the local dock I planned to use.  Instead I got Lord of the Ring quotes.  Found the above quote.  I've never read Tolkien.  Maybe I should.)

Live From Sturgeon Creek

Evening on the creek. Relaxing before the festivities begin for this year's Heritage Day celebration on Saturday.  

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Ornamental grass in the morning

Stingray Point looking toward Gwynn's Island

Our pier

Phillipi Church

The community dock

Tree at Aaron's Beach

Something I Stumbled Upon

Sea Longing

A thousand miles beyond this sun-steeped wall

Somewhere the waves creep cool along the sand,
The ebbing tide forsakes the listless land
With the old murmur, long and musical;
The windy waves mount up and curve and fall,
And round the rocks the foam blows up like snow,-
Tho' I am inland far, I hear and know,
For I was born the sea's eternal thrall.
I would that I were there and over me
The cold insistence of the tide would roll,
Quenching this burning thing men call the soul,-
Then with the ebbing I should drift and be
Less than the smallest shell along the shoal,
Less than the sea-gulls calling to the sea.

~Sara Teasdale

Totally Tubular: The Moive

The end is worth the wait...

Totally Tubular!!

What better way to spend a gorgeous holiday weekend than relaxing on the water. 

Midge had been pestering my dad to take her tubing on the creek, but we weren't certain our tube had survived the tornado. 

Shockingly, the tube (that had been stored- inflated- in the shed at the time of the tornado) had no leaks and was fine. 

So we loaded up the boat to go tubing.

Midge went first.

She looks like she's modeling

Even my mom joined in the fun.

And despite how this photo looks, she didn't fall off.

Then the Brat Child rode- with his sister of course.

Eventually we were all done.

Kayaking Sturgeon Creek

There is nothing better than spending time on the water.

During our vacation this year, my mother and I rented a couple of kayaks from Lazy Days Kayak Rentals.

(We have rented from her several times and highly recommend using her).

Mom and the Brat Child who looked very much like an
Egyptian Prince being rowed down the Nile.
He's 'Pecial dontchaknow.

Midge and her friend Lizard.
I was secretly hoping one of them would fall in so I could get the shot.



Midge and her friend Lizard



We kayaked clear out to the Rivah (that would be the Rappahannock for those of you who don't know). 

Or the Rappahannatank according to the Brat Child.

It could also be the Piankahannock, I don't remember.

Brat Child with his Grandma

There is a large sandbar that stretches out into the river.

It makes for a great place to swim.



When I asked them to pose, the Brat Child said "Everyone say Hot Girls!"
I'm slightly concerned about kindergarten.



Big Bird

The inspiration for today's post came from Growing Wild on Waverly Lane's post about Ichabod the Snake.  I suggest you read her post for yourself, but basically it tells the story of a snake who was named Ichabod (a very appropriate name for a snake) and how each subsequent snake since the first Ichabod has been called Ichabod as well (trust me, it's much more eloquent in her post).
How many more times can I use the word post in this post?

Over in Deltaville on Sturgeon Creek, we have Big Bird.  And no, I'm not talking about a large 8 foot yellow bird, I'm referring to a Great Blue Heron.

I've mentioned many times how my great-uncle and surrogate grandfather PePop was a nature lover and Superintendent of Patapsco State Park in Maryland.  Growing up, he taught me and all my cousins about the natural world around us.  I know he is instrumental in giving me my love of the outdoors and all the creatures in it. 

PePop is the person who gave Big Bird his name.  Through the fall and winter, PePop would send cards and letters.  In his letters, there were always drawings of the animals that had recently visited the creek.  And along with the drawings were the names PePop had christened them with.  The Great Blue Heron was dubbed Big Bird because, well, he's a big bird.  Every Great Blue Heron that I have seen since the age of about 7 is named Big Bird.  My younger siblings grew up calling the herons Big Bird and my children call the herons Big Bird. 

And when I traveled to Deltaville after the Tornado, it was a welcome sight to see Big Bird feeding in his usual spot in the creek.

I have a passionate hatred an aversion to change, so it's reassuring to see the same bird fishing in the same spot the way I have for 30-some years.

Just because everything is different doesn't mean anything has changed.

~Irene Peter

Kayaking Trip

Today, I'm too tired to say much about anything.  So, enjoy some shots I took on my last kayaking trip around Sturgeon Creek.  Photos were taken with the Brat Child's crappy camera, so I apologize now for the quality.

Both of these shots were take looking out at the Rappahannock River. 

This sandbar more or less marks the boundary between the creek and river.

This bulkhead has been here all my life and has recently fallen apart enough to allow for what used to be the normal flow of water.  On the other side of the bulkhead is the Rappahannock.  From what I can remember, some idiot woman thought it would be nice to build a bulkhead so she could make a beach.  What she did was force the channel to change and reduced the flow of water.  There were also concerns about unnatural currents forming.  I always hoped there would be a whirlpool in the middle of the creek.  How cool would that be?!

Looking down into the creek

The Rivah

Some roads lead to water.  I'm pretty sure all my roads do.