Travels with the Mater

Mary with Malcom June 2014

Mama and I went to Charleston to attend the wedding of the daughter of the woman pictured above.  She’s holding her grandson who was the ” ring bearer “.  Mama and Mary (above) have been friends since they were five years old, and she and her husband Nick and their dog Betsy came to spend the night with us on the way down (they live in Philadelphia, Pa).   We set off on a beautiful, sunny day, and about an hour before Charleston, there were two brief, heavy showers, harbringers of what was to come.  Just as a precaution, Mama had packed extra food for me, my yellow towel,  medicine and underwear for her, a raincoat and as an after thought, her flip flops.  This proved to be a very suave move.  The Mater’s motto – We’re going in the car so who cares how much we take?

When we got to our friend in Mt Pleasant’s house,  she and the Mater decided that they were going to plan an all Barefoot Contessa week, selected their recipes, and went out to Trader Joe’s, Whole Fools (that’s Mama’s name for Whole Foods), and finally Bi- Lo,( because puff pastry was almost $11 at WF and it was $4.95 at BI-LO) to buy all the ingredients.  Once again, they made a providential move, because they didn’t have to go out for any supplies during the worst part of the storm.  Just as Mama blew out of BI-LO, the rains began.   Whilst they threw themselves into rolling out puff pastry and  caramelizing onions for goat cheese and tomato tart, it began to rain much harder.  This made taking me out such a drag for both of us. Before long, Mama’s Orvis raincoat was soaked, one pair of trainers were soaked, and I looked like a French Poodle.

Looking at the rain projections, the two of them went into the garage and moved everything off the floor and put it up at least 10 feet. Now, the ground was quite saturated and there was no way to avoid walking in water.  The marsh in front of the house would get to a certain level, look like was going to overflow, and then somehow, water was diverted somewhere else, and the level would go back down.  This happened a number of times.  Fortunately, our friend’s house has two huge porches, so the Mater threw the ball for me a lot.  As she couldn’t figure out how to hold me over the commode, we had to go out several times each day.

At night, we all watched Dr Who, but I would give up after awhile and doze on Mama’s lap.  We arrived last Wednesday, and the wedding was last Sunday, October 4.  Blessedly, the rains held off some on Saturday, and most of Sunday so Mama and her friend were able to get to the wedding, and they had a blast ( or so I am told).  Mama drove our Violet Volvo who sits up high enough, and did have to go thru a large puddle to get there, but Violet got the job done. Mama sez it was  a beautiful ceremony, they  met a lot of really neat people (everyone was very friendly) and ate some fabulous food.  I am told the lighting,  food and flowers were “to die for”.  Well, whatever.   They left a bit early because the rain had started back.

We were supposed to leave the next day, but the storm had closed sections of several Interstates and roads.  It was pretty serious.  Mama figured out our alternate route with help from the Mother of the Bride who had come over for tea, and we set off on Tuesday, because Mama had her eye on Columbia SC, (which we had to go past,  as the stretch of I-95 we would normally take was washed out). She wanted to get around Columbia early on because dams were breaking, rivers were rising, and all that water was projected to flow towards the Charleston area.

We had a very easy trip home, if you don’t count Mama singing along with the radio and flying down the road.  The traffic was fairly light on our side of the Interstates, and we blew around  Columbia (Mama lived there briefly but that is a story for another time), and headed to Charlotte, then on to Greensboro. We’d had a super time, and quite an adventure, but were glad to get home.  There were branches and leaves all over the front and back yard, and the front porch had dirt all over it from the hanging baskets. Mama unloaded me, muttered “Scarlett O’Hara”, and poof, we were  inside our house and truly home.


One comment

  1. Kismet · October 10, 2015

    Don’t get me started on Columbia. He said Fort Jackson was no fun.


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