Carole and I took her mom to Stone Mountain State Park Sunday for a picnic and quasi-60th birthday celebration for me. When it comes to NC high country, this state park is the most easily accessible for me. There are some lower monadnocks located closer (such as Crowders Mountain), but Stone Mountain is actually sitting in the midst of 4,000-foot summits and is definitely among the bigger mountains here in the Carolinas. We got there early, picked out a picnic table and grill and soon got busy making hamburgers and relaxing by the table. Carole then drove me to a nearby trailhead so that all I had to do was hike up and over the mountain on the same trail that would dump me back out at the picnic area where they would be waiting. The hike was a relatively easy one. There's just one big elevation gain at the beginning (about 600 feet, I think). I was having sinus problems so it winded me more than I'd like to admit, but it really is a simple, easy hike. I've always liked that trail, even back in the days when they didn't have all of the stairs and cables to help you over the roughest spots. The first time I hiked it back in the mid-80s there was nothing at all in the way of infrastructure on the trail except for painted orange dots on the exposed rock to let you know that you were on the trail. Everything was really nice for that hike, including the weather. The temperatures barely broke into low 80s and the humidity was also very low. I got some great photos and video of the cliffs and views. Since it was on a Sunday, there were more people on the summit than I like to encounter, and I saw almost no wildlife--the exception being lots of white-tail deer off the main trail as I returned to the picnic area. All in all, it was a great way to spend a quasi-birthday celebration.
Carole and Faye at the picnic spot we chose.
Pregnant doe at the edge of the forest.
Birthday selfie.
Although not on the summit, this is actually my favorite view on Stone Mountain.
The large crack on the mountain (actually an exfoliation scar) is the most popular climbing route on the mountain. This is where a lot of North Carolina rock climbers learn the sport.
A closer view of the climbing route called "The Great Arch".
Short blog today. We went to see Faye, my mother-in-law yesterday for her birthday, (her 84th!). Our intention was also to watch the Super Bowl game. Now, under normal circumstances neither my wife nor I am in the least bit interested in the Super Bowl. But this year the local team (Carolina Panthers) represents the NFC, so we figured we'd watch. However, the Panthers were playing so poorly that we left to head back home shortly before half-time. And Carole's mom was really tired after the birthday celebration anyway. Don't forget...the serialization of my novel THE CLAN is available at Channillo. You can grab subscribe at this website.
Carole decked out in her Panther stuff. Dig that crazy hat!
Remember the yellowjacket nest? Well, my mother-in-law was as good as her word. She killt them. She's pretty good at it. What you have to do is go out to the nest after dark. The yellowjackets are all but dormant after sunset and less likely to swarm and sting. So she went out with a small bottle of gasoline and poured some into the entrance to the nest. She didn't drench the ground or anything. Just poured a little in there. She repeated the process for three days. After the third day she went out and to check the nest for activity. What she found was that instead of a small entrance tunnel buzzing with yellowjackets she saw a large hole in the ground! The yellowjackets were obviously dead. Where the nest had been there was now a deep hole. Something had come to the now-vacant nest and had dug it up for the grubs in the combs. Typically, there are three animals who would do this. Yellowjacket grubs are pure fat and protein. Some mammals like them so much that they'll risk getting stung severely to feast on the grubs. The calorie reward outweighs the pain. Black bears have been known to travel through the forest digging them up and feasting on the nests. But this hole, while decent, was certainly not made by a bear. So, the three local critters at the top of my list are: raccoons, skunks, and foxes. Whatever dug that hole was really good at it. Raccoons can dig, but I've never seen one construct such an efficient excavation. Skunks are exceptional diggers, but Faye said she never smelled a skunk around, and they're hard to miss. So my guess is that the nest was dug up and consumed by a gray fox. There are lots of them around that part of the county. I've seen them, mainly in the evening. No more yellowjacket nest. Faye killt the adults and this left the grubs vulnerable. Of course they'd have died anyway without the colony to feed and care for them. Or it's even possible the same gas fumes that killed the adults did in the grubs. Must not have affected the flavor, though, because there was not one grub left.
Hole where the nest had been.
There were bits of yellowjacket nest scattered around.
You can see that the grubs were all gone...gobbled up.
I'm not a fan of guns, to put it mildly. Having been caught in cross-fire on my job, I have negative opinions of the things.
When my father-in-law (great guy, Frank!) was alive, he was an avid hunter. He had quite a lot of guns for various types of hunting. Most of his guns (but not all) were on display in a gun cabinet. When Frank died the guns were eliminated. But the gun cabinet was still there.
One day his widow (Faye) got the idea of having a carpenter come in to modify the gun cabinet. He did so, and now it's a china cabinet. Recreating a thing meant for the repose of guns into something of peace. Appropriate work for a carpenter...
Sunday was Carole's birthday. So we took a break from putting my new loft office together and went to meet her mom for a small birthday gathering. My little family gets smaller every year. Even Andy didn't show up this year for his mother's birthday.
Carole made me wear the Ugly Shoes. She bought them for me a few years ago and I have worn them like three times. They resemble those shoes retarded kids wear. But sometimes when she finds the place where I've hidden them, she'll ask me to wear them. (No, I won't throw them out. I'm not that wasteful.)
Carole and her mom (Faye) at the restaurant where we had dinner.
Just a random shot of the restaurant. It was really crowded.
Back at Faye's house we break out the $52 cheesecake. That's what Carole wanted for her birthday cake: A strawberry cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory. So I bought her one. And, of course, we had wine.
We had our holiday celebration on Friday instead of Saturday. This was because Carole had to work on Saturday so it was our only chance to go to Carole's mom's place to get together with her and have a nice dinner and exchange presents. As we do every Christmas Eve, we also watched the George C. Scott version of A CHRISTMAS CAROL. I know everyone has their favorite movie version of that story, but to my way of thinking, none of the others come anywhere near touching the effectiveness of the one with George C. Scott, Edward Woodward, David Warner, and Susannah York.
I think that version was originally made for TV, which is even more astonishing to me as it was so highly produced and polished. I never get tired of watching it and it never fails to bring tears to my eyes (for all the right reasons).
This was a particularly fun Christmas for us. It was the first time I've ever felt financially secure enough to buy something really frivolous for Carole. As I consider any jewelery purchase to be completely and totally frivolous, that has never been something I've ever felt comfortable about buying. At least no jewelry that's expensive. This year, though, flush with cash from various writing projects, I did just that, and paid cash for a nice ring for Carole. It felt good to be able to do that.
My very tiny family. Carole, Andy, and Faye.
Me and Carole. (Don't ask about the high waters.)
What passed for our Christmas tree this year.
My pre-dinner snack. Port wine cheese, salami, sausage balls, and moscato wine. We went through three bottles of wine.
