God Bless America (Once Upon A Time in the South East, Part VII)

The morning after Aaron's wedding, we bid farewell to the friends we had made as they headed back to their respective lives. We spent our last full day in the U.S. at Patriot's Point Naval Museum in Charleston, which included touring the USS Yorktown, the 10th aircraft carrier to serve in the United States Navy, and the USS Clamagore, the only preserved GUPPY III submarine in the United States.

It was a freezing cold day, even by my standards, and windy and rainy on top of that. Still, we ventured back into Charleston proper in search of food and one last adventure. We considered a tour of Fort Sumter, but let the weather change our minds. Instead, we wandered through the Fort Sumter Visitor Education Centre at Liberty Square and learned a little more about what it was like to be an American in the south.

The next morning, we headed back to Georgia to return the rental car and catch our flight.

Our layover in New York City turned into six hours instead of the scheduled three, but otherwise, we had no problems whatsoever. As an added bonus, I was able to capture these from the plane window as we touched down.
They represent my only experience with New York, and I think they cover it quite nicely.

...and really. Who could say they got pictures of New York without a shot of the Statue of Liberty, even if it is from 20,000 feet up. :D

/Facepalm. Epic.

So, it would seem that deleting photos from Picasa albums also deletes them from your blog. I'm starting to rebuild, but it's actually just reposting all the tedious stuff from scratch because the photos I deleted cannot be recovered. I have many of them in an album on my computer, but not all. I'm trying to determine if it is worth it to find and repost the over one thousand photos that have been removed, or if I should just start over from the present.

I have started to rebuild, but I've also started to look for a new blog hosting site. This Google + integration of everything is for the birds.

~Terri

So This Is Christmas 2012

Their  traditions: homemade gingerbread and roasted chestnuts.

 

My traditions: Christmas tree decorations composed entirely of angels

Our traditions: peace on earth and good will toward man. Sleep in heavenly peace.

The New Baby

I didn't take the loss of Simon Says lightly. It was only a matter of days before I began hunting for his replacement. I won't lie: I knew it was a replacement I was looking for. My maximum allowable cat limit was three, and being back down to two was odd. 

I was introduced to "Petal" on my first trip to the SPCA mid-December. She was a stunningly soft long-haired calico, about 6 months old, and... already spoken for. I asked what that meant, and essentially a family had claimed my ideal third cat already but gone home to get supplies and prepare the house. They had 24 hours to come back for her. What were the chances of them not coming back? I asked. "I've never had someone not come back for a kitten," the girl behind the counter told me.

There was a tiny black furball and a year-old white beauty with calico spots that I found myself debating between. I did have the thought of taking them both, but four cats was a little too much to care for properly, even for me. So I decided in the end to sleep on it and went home empty handed.

Imagine my delight when I returned the next day, and that girl behind the counter almost came over the desk after me as I came through the door. "Oh my God, I'm so glad you came back! They didn't come to claim her!"
I was stunned. I recall having to apologize for using the f-bomb in my moment of sheer glee. "She's mine. I want her," I said, and then I dashed into the cat room to Petal's cage and took her incredible softness into my arms. "You're coming home with me," I informed her. "But that name has got to go."

Meet Chloe, aka BabyCat, or BellaBean. 

 

She has a swiffer tail, feels like silk to the touch, and is a hell of a charmer, to both the other cats and humans alike. She loves to tease Fat Monty and she and Pickles chase each other playfully from one end of the house to the other. Then, she sleeps. Most often with me, on my legs or on my keyboard, but generally any lap will do. 

On the occasion when she's allowed outside, she goes no farther than the next door neighbour's, and the one night she was accidentally left outside, she sat by the basement door and meowed until she was found.

She replaced Simon physically, but definitely  has carved her own little niche in the family.

That Fat Cat

Just a little camera shy, Montgomery takes more offense at having to open his eyes than he does to sleeping in a doggy bed.