The Scotch Bonnet

One of the things I love about coastal North Carolina, is that you almost always get a "hello" or "how are you" from a passerby.  Especially on the beach. My first couple of weeks taking my daily walks on the beach, the friendliness sincerely surprised me. I am used to walking with my head down, or, conveniently looking at something in the opposite direction from the person who is walking toward me. I'm not trying to be rude, really! It is well, more the norm where I come from, to hurry past this person or that, sticking to your own self and your own hurried thoughts.

I am becoming quite fond of this friendliness, here on the coast, and have adopted its concept for myself. Funny thing is, on that rare occasion, when I am passing someone and I look, and smile, yet they hurry past me without even making eye contact, I find it quite rude! Note to self: Say hello anyway, you just might surprise someone and alter their concept of whats normal.

This friendliness that I speak of here, is not limited to born and raised Tarheels only. Coastal North Carolina calls to many people, from all over the United States, and a lot of those who hear the call, end up moving here.

One December day as I walked the sand on Fort Macon Beach, I ran into a woman who greeted me with a wave. I waved back and noticed she had a bag full of shells. I asked her if she had found anything good, and she pulled out a small shell, about the size of a quarter, resembling a conch. She held it up in her hand proudly for me to see. I told her my daughter, who was down the beach, was feverishly looking for shells of that sort.

The woman handed the shell to me and said "then she should have it". I protested, but she insisted. She told me she was on the hunt for a Scotch Bonnet Shell. Now I have never heard of a Scotch Bonnet, and even though she tried to describe what it looks like, i could not picture it in my head. She said it was the North Carolina state shell, and very hard to find in tact.

She seemed to know her shells, so i reached into my shell bag and grabbed a strange looking shell that I had picked up on the beach prior to meeting her. I asked her "what is this?". The woman instantly got excited and did a little jump saying "its a Scotch Bonnet!". She wanted to hold and study it, so I handed her the shell. Her eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas Day.

She handed the shell back to me, but I told her to keep it. She refused...but I held up my hands and said "it's yours". She gave me a little hug and told me i had made her day. Well she had made mine too. A total stranger who greeted me with a wave and a smile, who offered a gift from the sea, to my daughter, with no hesitation.

I wonder how I would have reacted in her situation. A total stranger tells me, "hey that shell you found is cool, i collect those"...would I have just handed over the shell?  Of course I handed over my scotch bonnet to the woman, AFTER she had offered her gift to my daughter. Something to think about. Are we only gracious and generous after we have received the same? Or are we gracious and generous regardless of what we get out of it?

GIFTS AND OTHER GIFTS.

I am a born and partially raised, Hoosier. We did move quite a few times during my childhood in Indiana, and I have several distinct memories of being welcomed to our new neighborhoods. I remember people coming over to introduce themselves, some even came bearing gifts in the form of baked goods.

    This was typical to me, it’s what I knew. To me, this was just how neighbors’ treat each other. Moving north, out of Indiana, was kind of a culture shock, for not only me as a young teen, but also my mom. No one came over to introduce themselves in our new neighborhood, no one brought carrot cake or banana bread. It was just, different, and lonely.

 

When I was around 38 years old, my husband and I purchased a home next to a golf course, out in the country, in a lake community.  One day I noticed a new family was moving in across the street. I gave them a few days to settle in before I decided to go introduce myself. I knocked on the door, and a man not much younger than me, opened the door a hair and peeked out at me.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Hello, I’m Kelly, my husband Todd and I live across the street from you.”

The man looked at me puzzled.  “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!” I said cheerfully.

The man was still looking at me puzzled, and muttered out an “oh, okay, thank you”, as his door quietly shut. After that, I gave up on the notion of neighbors welcoming neighbors. I stuck to myself.

Fast forward to the present. A lady knocked on my door the other day, bearing gifts - a homemade loaf of zuchinni bread. She was shy and greeted me with a "hello maam, seen you was new to the neighborhood".

I thought it strange, and unusual, and I did not know exactly how to receive this gift. Ummm..she doesn't know me and I dont know her, so whats this all about?

I took the bread from her and thanked her, how confused I must have looked! She never looked up at me, and there was this awkward moment of silence in which i thought "kelly what is wrong with you? This is like old times, this is good!". But I never invited her in. 

As she turned to make her way back down the driveway, she looked back and said "it ain't laced or nuthin, it's my momma's recipe."

I laughed and told her if it had been laced i knew where she lived. She laughed as she headed off. 

Truth is though, I did not know where she lived, nor did I ask for her name. Oh my God? Had I become the man who moved in across the street from me years ago? The man who thought it so strange that I would come and introduce myself that he could't or wouldn't open his door more than a hair?

Zuchinni Lady, I will find you, and I will ask for your name and apologize as I shake your hand. I will invite you in for coffee, and maybe bake you something, if you could just find it in your heart to give this neighbor, a second chance !

Puffer-Fish Man

The Bogue Inlet Fishing Pier, is on a 21 mile barrier island , located in the town of Emerald Isle.  This barrier island is often referred to here as "the island" or the "Southern Outer Banks".   I walk the many beaches of the island almost daily. On our third day in North Carolina, we decided to check out the Pier.

 http://www.newvisionbuilders.com/wherearewe.html

There were both fishermen, and women, lining both sides of the pier, of all ages, races and socio-economic levels. But all were strangely "in-tune" with each other, conversing, telling fish tales, etc.  Must be a spirituality to fishing, that binds and ties.

Quit a few "Skeet" on the line, like the one below. Yes, I thought it was a sting ray also. But a fisherman resembling the Gortons Fisherman, haha, educated me. "This here is a SKEET", he said as he held the creatures tail with a pair of pliers. "I don't eat em".

We had a wonderful conversation with an old, toothless, black fisherman, who urged us to check out his newly caught puffer fish. I obliged reluctantly. Pufferfish man poetically informed us, that greedy fishing, is not good fishing. He said "I takes what I needs and no more". He said he always thanks God and the Sea for his "gifts" (dinner for the night), because God and the Sea..dont "owe" us. What a concept. We all want more and more, always expecting to have what we want, instead of being thankful for what is given unto our needs. We could all learn a lot from this man. I think I will most definitely dedicate a chapter in my book to PufferFish Man. He was a very wise soul.

the Puffer

The First Few Days

Thursday, November 3, 2011

GEORGE AND MARTHA

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It was a long drive. I left Michigan with my two young daughters a few days before my husband was to leave with our furniture and belongings.  Normally, when the girls and I vacation in North Carolina, we stop for a night at my cousin's house in West Virginia. But we were excited about our new rental home in Hubert NC, and well, we just wanted to get here.

A few years ago, I ran across a North Carolina photographer, George. I admired his landscape photography, especially of the NC lighthouses. I randomly added him as a friend on facebook.  We shared a few minor emails about his work, and about my childhood ties to the outer banks of North Carolina. That was it.

In August of 2011, my soul said 'MOVE TO NORTH CAROLINA NOW". I've always wanted it, and the girls also. I emailed George to ask about rental houses in the area. His response was "I have a house for rent, come home to North Carolina". Two months later, I am in my car, with my girls, traveling through the Blue Ridge Mountains, in route to our new home near the coast.

I had several conversations with George's wife, Martha, before our moving date. I fell in love with her wit and energy, instantly. A woman in her golden years, I never would have guessed. Her talk ...I can only describe as fast, fun and furious with an intense southern draw,  an admitted "Holy Roller", occasionally cussing and then apologizing for it.  "Welcome welcome welcome, oh I am so excited to have you here , you'll love the house. I am so glad you are coming home".

I found it strange, that both George and Martha, had used the same words "coming home". I assumed they were referring to me coming home to a place I spent time at, in my childhood.

We arrived at our new home, at 8pm on November 3, 2011. A small quaint ranch-style house, in a quiet, country neighborhood. I had no fears, doubts or regrets as I walked through the door and viewed my new home in person, for the first time.

George and Martha knew, that the girls and I were arriving a few days before our belongings would be here, but much to our surprise, they had supplied us with  Mattresses to sleep on, fresh linens and towels, a television set with a built in dvd player, movies to watch, board games for the girls to play, a coffee pot, a few dishes, pots, pans and silverware.  In the refrigerator, a fresh pot of spaggetti, and a fresh batch of Martha's chili, juice, bread, butter. They had supplied us with everything we would need to be comfortable until our things arrived.

I was speechless. Was this Southern Hospitality? Was this "George and Martha"? I think it was both.

Friday, November 4, 2011

BETTY

The girls and I wasted no time in getting to know our new home and it's surrounding areas.  Literally the morning after our arrival, and after my morning coffee, compliments of Martha, we headed out to explore.

Our address is in Hubert, but seconds down the road is the town of Swansboro, lovingly nick-named "Friendly City by the Sea". It's not exactly on the sea.  It sits on the beautiful White Oak River. The river is dotted with marsh islands, and is a passage-way to the Atlantic Ocean, which is a few miles over. Along the river in Swansboro, there are seafood markets, seafood restaurants and a quaint historical district, lined with unique little stores, gift shops and cafes.

Sailboats, shrimping boats, and kayaks on the river, are an every day sight.

Just before you get to the riverfront, the historical district of Swansboro, is the road to a park we wanted to check out so we turned south to check out Hammocks State Park.  On top of the 33 acres of mainland, where you can launch your kayak into the intercoastal waterways, or explore the forest, Hammocks State Park also encompases two barrier islands, Huggins Island, and Bear Island. They are called barrier islands, because they lie between the mainland, and the ocean.  No one lives on these islands, but you can kayak , or ferry to the islands for the day, or pop a tent on the beach and camp the night ! Besides a concession stand that has seasonal hours, nothing exists on these islands, but nature.

 http://swansborohistory.blogspot.com/2010/09/more-on-huggins-island.html

The girls and I walked out onto the dock as a kayaker was coming in. My youngest child, Josie, started a conversation with the man, and he revealed he was from Tennessee, and came to North Carolina often, to kayak. He was just returning, from an overnight camping trip on bear island, and his camping gear was so minimal, it fit into the storage compartment of his ten foot wooden kayak.

As we were saying our goodbye's to Tennessee man, two older ladies approached us and said hello. My guess is that they were both in their early seventies.

"Your babies are beautiful" one of the ladies said, as she smiled the warmest smile, directed towards my girls. It was a sunny day, and the first thing I really noticed about this old woman, is how the light of the sun, reflecting off of the water below us, made a light dance in her fading blue eyes.  She introduced herself as "Betty", and she also introduced the other woman as her sister, but for the life of me, I can not recall the sisters name.

I introduced myself and my children, and explained that we had just moved to the area from Michigan and we were out exploring. This seemed to excite them and they both exclaimed in unison "you will love it here!".  We made small talk for the next twenty minutes, the aged sisters were humorous and argued over who used to be the sexiest when they were "younger".

As we parted ways, Betty said "Well here now, you know I just live around the corner, little green house, white shutters, please do come by for coffee soon! We would love to have you, we will just have a good time !". 

With a smile I nodded and they both reached out to shake my hand. Not a firm "glad to meet you buddy" handshake i'm so used to from being a "northerner". But a "Southern ladies" handshake, gentle, warm, soft and friendly.

As I walked away, Betty yelled "Welcome home honey !". I smiled to myself, as this was not the first time I have been "welcomed home" here in North Carolina by someone who KNEW  that I was not born and raised here. I was beginning to think it was an endearing phrase these North Carolinians use in replace of "Welcome to North Carolina", and I kind of liked it!

I have not as of yet, made it over to Betty's for coffee, and I wonder why, what stops me from doing so?  Am I afraid? Do normal people just invite strangers over for coffee? Not where I am from...so...Is it a bit strange? Or is it simply "southern" to give out such an invite? A little old lady from the south, Betty, who takes her daily stroll through Hammocks State Park.  She reached out to us on our first day here, she was warm and welcoming, and her eyes twinkled with the same graciousness and kindness  that her voice so beautifully  resonated. I should go visit Betty soon.

 My grandchildren and I enjoy some time, on the dock at Hammock's State Park/Mainland. We watched a few dolphins swim right in front of us that day !