Hear those church bells ringin'

A bit of eye-candy for you, my dear readers:

The Beauty Of These 18 South Carolina Churches Will Leave You Spellbound

Little Red

The two women gathered at the Charleston Airship Docks promptly at 4 am were both grumpy and half asleep.
“Wonder where the Captain is.” grumbled Tira. She looked around and noticed that someone else was missing. “What about Harry, our beloved navigator?”
“I wonder where the navigator is,” answered Kennia. “Wonder if he fell so soundly asleep that he just plain forgot about us.
Then Captain Willie sauntered up to them with a bit of a grin just waiting to bust out. “I have a little surprise for y’all. We’re gettin’ a new navigator on this trip. And this one is, ahem, different.
“How different?” demanded Tira.
“Just wait and see,” he smirked. “She’ll be along any minute now.”
“She? Ain’t you startin’ to fee1 outnumbered?” teased Kennia. But the Captain just chuckled to himself.
Captain Willie replied evasively, “oh, I talked to headquarters. That’s why we’re gettin’ a new navigator. One that’s better.”
“We can only hope,” muttered Tira.
“Now, now.”
“Sounds like an interesting trip already,” grumbled Tira. “You know how I feel about surprises, especially when I ain’t even all awake.”
“Oh, you’ll like this one. I promise!”
“Now I am gettin’ worried too,” Said Kennia. “Who or what have you dug-up this time?”
“Let’s get some tea and biscuits while we wait” suggested Captain Willie. “It’s on the company’s tab  anyway.
“And they make some damn fine chicken biscuits here. I could use a couple. I didn’t want to wake my sister and her family by messin’ about in the pantry.” said Tira.
“I don’t see how you can even think about food at this hour of the morning,” replied Kennia.
“A little bit hung-over are we?” asked the Captain.

They had just settled down at a small table with their food when the door opened and in walked a tiny little woman.
“Howdy y’all! You must be the crew of the Sandflea, right? My name is Rose Chavous, but everyone calls me Little Red.”
Little Red was skinny with a large quantity of red hair piled up on the top of her head. Her most notable feature, the hair was piled higher than was currently fashionable. A pair of hair sticks did their best to contain the main mass but there was a fringe of small tendrils making a stealthy escape.  

Hot tin roof on a summer's day

Before Hans could reach the professor’s tent there was a hair-raising shriek emitted from it. “Eureka! I haf found it! I haf found where to dig for the copper!”
Hans began to run up the path. The old man’s timing could not be better! With useful work to do the men should settle down. At least he hoped so since he really didn’t have any intention of shooting at anyone, let alone hitting him. Hans laughed in relief!

“Herr professor! Herr professor! Is it true? We can start with the mining now?”
The professor grunted smugly. “You seemed to be in need of some, shall we say, assistance, so I came to your aid.”
Hans looked puzzled.
“Ja, I put my head out of the tent more often than you think.

“Yes! I am so happy now. The men are more and more unruly. But now there is some useful work to be done. Now they will be busy and not have time for the mischief!”

“Indeed.” He peered over his glasses at the younger man. “Yes, it is high time that we started.” He pointed at the geological survey maps spread over the camp-desk before him. “Here und here. I knew the copper veins must be here. I know for certain now.  Here they shall start the digging. Then we must store the ore until we can send it to a smelter. That will not be easy. Hmmm.” He lapsed into silence.
Hans nodded in assent.
“Hans, soon we must speak with our friends in Virginia.”
“Sir, isn’t this a little bit too soon?”
“It vill take some time to set-up so, no. And we are behind schedule as it iz. They will be expecting some answers soon.
“Yes sir!” Hans nodded.

********************************

Meanwhile in Charleston, the Captain and his crew drank their ginger beer and the discussion returned to their original topic. Mike opined that the French must be behind the suspected mining operation but Captain Willie disagreed.
“What good would that do them? It is too far away from their remaining strongholds. They would have to ship it on barges down river to the Mississippi river and then down to New Orleans.”
“Maybe through Shawnee territory?”
“I don’t think so. You know how they feel about folks passing through their lands without permission. And I don’t see them giving permission any time soon.”
“What about shipping the ore upriver to the Great Lakes area?” asked Tira. “There’s ore smelters there already.”
“Pardon me, Miss Tira, for contradictin’ a lady. But what would be the point of running mines this far south?”
“I don’t know,” said the Captain. “And I don’t want to speculate. Let’s just get out there and find-out.” He turned to Kennia, “Be sure and bring lots of the dynamite you cooked-up. I expect we’re gonna need it!”

Ginger Beer

Spring in Charleston was beautiful, if humid, and not yet so warm as to make folks miserable. There was no shortage of parasols and paper fans in motion and nothing beat the heat like a refreshing ginger beer!

Kennia joined the Captain and Tira at a corner table towards the back of the main room of the saloon. “Hey, y’all. I got your message? Or are we mostly here to drink beer? They serve a mighty refreshin’ ginger beer here but that is about all this place has goin’ for it.”
“Have a seat” answered the Captain and gestured to the empty chair on his right.
“This place has somethin’ else goin’ for it” said Tira. “It is quiet and we won’t be disturbed.”
“Have a beer and let’s get to business” said the Captain.
“Then we can get to the drinkin’ part of the evenin’. I’ve got news from headquarters and it ain’t good.”
Kennia groaned. “Not more rumor and innuendo is it? I want to hear somethin’ concrete for once or I am outa here. She made no move to rise from her seat though.
“Just sit still and listen then. Remember a couple of months ago when we were up in the mountains and we acquired a passenger as well as a courier pouch?”
Both Kennia and Tira nodded. Who could forget whiny, smelly Ole Toby?
“Well headquarters has put two and two together and finally come-up with four. There is some kinda illegal mining operation goin’ on. That’s why they were after the latest geological surveys that were in that courier pouch. We don’t know who is doin’ the mining or how and why they picked these mountains but we need to investigate.”

                                    *******************************

Mike stepped up to the bar, “Just my usual, thanks.” He leaned against it and gave the room a thorough looking-over. Seeing a few of his mates at a back table, he grabbed his beer, ambled over and pulled up a chair.
“Whatcha doin’ fellas? And lady?” he added as he noticed Tira. “Fancy meetin’ you here, Miss Tira.
Tira smiled in response, “Oh, I do like to step-out once in a while. And this was just too fine an evening to spend sittin’ at home.”
“What are you drinkin’ this fine evening, ma’am?”
“Oh, just a ginger beer. Nothin’ too strong.”
“And may I buy you a fresh one?” inquired Mike.
“You certainly may, sir.”
During this exchange Captain Willie nudged Kennia. “See? What did I tell ya? She definitely likes him” he hissed.
Kennia just rolled her eyes. “You and your match-making! You used to try and match me up with fellas as well, remember?”
“That’s different.”
“No it ain’t! You’ve just got Noah’s Ark syndrome. Think everybody has to go two by two” she hissed back at him.
At this point Mike retured with a fresh ginger beer which he proceeded to ope and pour into a glass.
“Thank you, Mike. You are truely a gentleman” beamed Tira.

Charleston Rice Forum

Artist Jonathan Green launches an important forum on local culture

"Jonathan Green wants to start a conversation. It's a conversation about rice and a conversation about history. And more than anything, it's about a vibrant West African-based culture that flourished for over two centuries in the Lowcountry of South Carolina but is seldom discussed today.
The need for that discussion was the impetus for the Lowcountry Rice Forum, a three-day event that kicks off Thursday evening and brings together scholars, artists, educators, and cooks. The larger goal, as Green articulates it, is to get people together "to have a conversation about the landscape of the South and how it came to be."

Tall Tales and Southern Belles

The Coquettes consisted of Madeleine, Sabrietta, Antoinette, Ermengarde and Carlotta. All five shared a predilection for enormous, over-decorated fans, purses and other accessories as well as an appreciation for a truly well-told tale. They weren’t so particular about the veracity of the tale as long as it was well-told! They had been a fixture of the French Theatre for as long as anyone could remember. Naturally, they joined Kennia as soon as they saw her seated at the bar in hopes of hearing a good story.

“Wanta hit the dance floor,  Miss Kennia?”
“Not this evening, chérie. I am here to relax and rest my weary self. Besides, my last pair of fancy stockings got ruined on a mission and I haven’t had the chance to replace them.”
“How about a tale of daring escapades and risky ventures?” suggested Carlotta.
“Now y’all know that I can’t tell y’all about my missions. Not more than just small bits at least. Most of it is secret.”
“Were you chasing after some wicked miscreants, Miss Kennia?” Sabrietta peeked slyly over her fan.
Kennia laughed. “Just listen to y’all with all that ten dollar vocabulary!” If you must know, there was a fat, greasy ole German fella who did not understand that the word “no” means just that!”
“So what happened?” The assembled Coquettes leaned towards her in expectation.
“Nothing happened, y’all! He tried to lay hands on me and and gave him a good, hard kick. . . or two. Then he fell on the ground hollerin’ and tried to grab my ankle. That’s when my good, patterned stockings got snagged and tore. End of story, y’all! Now can I drink my drink in peace?
There was a collective sigh of disappointment from the assembled Coquettes as they sat up, realizing that no juicy details were forthcoming from Kennia.

The Maître d'hôtel approached Kennia as she sat at the bar, all smiles at seeing one of his favorite customers. “I have your favorite table available, if you are ready to order your dinner Madamoiselle?”
“Thank you, Andre, I would be delighted to have some of your wonderful food.”
“For you, Madamoiselle, I have a vertiable feast!”
Kennia almost purred with contentment. This was the life!
Shortly after she was seated, the waiter brought heaping plates of Boeuf Bourguignon, broiled sweet potatoes, fried mushrooms and gravy.

Out on the dance floor the band played while couples gyrated, lifted their skirts and kicked their legs with enthusiasm. The Cancan dance originated in the working-class dance halls of Paris and  was all the rage in the Francophile areas of the world.  

Ma chérie

Kennia rented a room at Miss Lily’s Respectable Ladies Boarding House. While she often was away from Charleston, she definitely liked her comforts during her time-off. Her room included a favorite over-stuffed armchair covered with a plethora of embroidered pillows as well as an elaborate vanity table with an unusually large mirror. She wished that there was some way she could have her comforts with her everywhere she travelled.

After arriving at the Boarding House she had a long sleep and a change of clothing. When she awoke she considered visiting the Public Bathes for a soak but decided that soap, water and a soft wash-cloth were sufficient for the moment. She’d slept through the rest of the day and now the evening breeze was cooling the sweltering city. Time to go out on the town!

As she headed down the stairs she chanced upon her friend Callie just returning home for the evening.
“Hey gal!. Good to see ya back home safe and sound.” Callie hugged her friend. “What are ya up to now? Ready for a night out?”
“You have got entirely too many questions, gal! I haven’t even unpacked properly!” laughed Kennia while hugging her in return. “I certainly want some decent food and I want it fixed by someone else while I just sit tight and give myself airs.”
“Sweetie, just let me get myself all put together and I’ll join you.”
The two friends went into Callie’s room so that she could change into her best hat and dress bodice with fringe around the hem. The room was a bit larger than Kennia’s but more sparsely furnished. Callie’s job in a factory didn’t pay as well as Kennia’s but it also didn’t involved being chased by (and sometimes shot at by) bad guys!

At 10 pm the evening was young and there still weren’t so many folks out on the town. Nightlife in Charleston didn’t truly come into its own until well after sunset when the ocean breezes cooled the cooking heat of the Charleston day. The city’s nightlife would not be in full-swing until midnight. The women ambled amiably through Tavern Row and onwards to the French Theatre. The French Theatre was quite lavish with an abundance of crystal chandeliers, bevelled mirrors and gilding.  However if one looked more closely, one could see just a touch of distress to the gilding as well as a missing crystal or two from some of the chandeliers. The French Theatre was a proud old lady who wore her years comfortably.

As regulars both women were greeted with cries and waves as they crossed the floor over to the bar.
“Your usual, mon ma chérie?” asked the bartender.
“Oui, Jean-Pierre” smiled Kennia. “il est bon d'être à ma maison!”***




***Author’s note. It has been a loooong time since I studied French in school and I have no one here to practice with so I apologize in advice for being very “rusty” with my language skills even though I am a person of French descent (on my grandmother’s side).

Tira (all gussied up)

Another version of our favorite airship mechanic, this time all gussied-up and ready for a night out in Charleston!

Benjamin

Tira stayed with her sister when she was in town. Yolanda was a widow and 3 of her four daughters had grown-up and left home so Tira bunked with her when she was in-and-about Charleston.“Hey y’all, I’m back now” she hollered as she let herself in the front door of the little cottage. But she wasn’t surprised that the small cottage was empty during the middle of the day.  Yolanda was almost certainly at the small café she owned and operated in another part of town and Lord only knew where to find her harum-scarum youngest girl. Almost certainly not in school in any case.

Tira sighed and carried her bags over the threshold and into the hall. Now that she was here she felt at a bit of a loss for what to do with herself. Once thing was for certain, she was too tired to go out to a pub or a public bath house. Instead she took her belongings into the back bedroom and just left them sitting on the floor. Tira decided to make-do with a quick hand and face wash-up in the kitchen.

She hunted through the wardrobe in the bedroom and found a freshly washed nightgown to change into. “Nice to have some peace and privacy for a change” she muttered as she sank onto the daybed. Clean sheets and a genuine mattress, what a luxurious feeling! No wonder her eyes closed and her breathing deepened only seconds after she pulled the bedclothes over her.

She woke several hours later to find a boy of about 12 years of age staring at her.
“Who’re you?” she asked.
“I’m Benjamin. Why are you sleeping in my bed?”
Tira sat up, now completely woken, and stared. “Your bed? This is my sister’s house and this is the bed I sleep in.”
Benjamin ran out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. He hollered “Aunty Yolanda! There’s a strange lady here and she is sleepin’ in ma bed!”
Yolanda laughed, “Honey, thats just my sista, Tira. You don’t need to be scared about her. She ain’t gonna eat ya fer dinner or nuthin’ like that. She loves children!”
“So how come she ain’t got none of her own with her?”
“I’ve got a son but he’s all grown-up now and on his own.”
Benjamin looked sceptical but slowly nodded his head. Maybe the strange lady wasn’t so scary after all.

Charleston, South Carolina

“This is Charles-Town”

Black and white all mix’d together
Inconstant, strange, unhealthful weather
Burning heat and chilling cold
Dangerous both to young and old
Boisterous winds and heavy rains
Fevers and rheumatic pains
Agues plenty without doubt
Sores, boils, the prickling heat and gout
Water bad, past all drinking
Men and women without thinking
Every thing at a high price
But rum, hominy and rice
Many a widow not unwilling
Many a beau not worth a shilling
Many a bargain, if you strike it
This is Charles-town, how do you like it?

Captain Martin, 1769