March to the Sea - On to Charleston!

A tourist group explores Charleston by carriage. Note the absence of face masks. Later I would see a group of Asian tourists sightseeing in a similar manner, all of whom were wearing protective coverings. As Omicron cases explode, it was unsettling to see so many going about without any masks while we were traveling. 

Being in language training as I am doesn't provide for much time off (other than for doctor visits and surgeries, of course). Basically, there are only two periods when students can opt to use some of their accumulated annual leave. The first is around Thanksgiving (and during which we stayed a couple of nights in Wilmington, Delaware); and the other is the period between Christmas and New Year's. Regular classes are put on hiatus during these times, and students can opt to use the break to either participate in review lessons, or to take some vacation time. Being a conscientious student who has unfortunately had to miss some lessons and who therefore needs to consolidate what he has learned during the past four months, I chose to tell Mandarin to piss off while I had some fun. 

Which is why on the day following Christmas my family and I were on the road heading further south than we'd ever done so before. Except that it took a while to get anywhere on that Boxing Day. After initially being diverted off the freeway by Google Maps in order to get around an apparently nasty traffic accident, we found ourselves stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic at three different points along the way. The first two were on Interstate 95 outside Fredericksburg and Richmond, respectively. After clearing the latter snarl, we left the freeway at Petersburg to visit the Petersburg National Battlefield. I had hoped to do a driving tour of the battlefield where Union troops planted explosives underneath a Confederate breastwork, which resulted in the Battle of the Crater, but because it was getting late in the day, we made do with the visiting the small museum covering the opening attacks on Petersburg, the beginning of the longest siege on American soil: 

 

We also had a look round the remains of a Confederate battery which was quickly overrun by Union troops:

My daughter peers into the maw of the "Dictator", a massive 13-inch mortar that launched 218 rounds of explosive shells at Confederate defenses in Petersburg during a three-month period in the summer of 1864. According to the explanatory signboard, the Dictator was "militarily ineffective":

Taking a walk in the woods on a path circling the battery. The southern U.S. has been going through an unusual warm spell at the end of the year. Temperatures ranged in the upper 60's to the low 80's Fahrenheit during the day while we were there, and in the evenings a windbreaker was enough to stay comfortable:

Back on the road, and crossing over from Virginia into North Carolina, we encountered a third traffic jam of the day, this one leading into Rocky Mount, NC. It was here that we would spend the night, though it took a bit of an effort to secure a room. The first place where we enquired, the Courtyard by Marriott, was full. The Residence Inn next door had just one vacant room remaining, which we quickly snapped up.  The clerk had been apologetic, saying it was a studio with a single bed, and that Amber would have to sleep on a sofa hideaway, but the room turned out to be larger than some of the apartments where I lived in Tokyo, and the sofa was more than comfortable for our daughter! 

Shu-E noted there was a Cracker Barrel near the hotel, but my initial reaction (based on the chain's past controversies with LGBT and minority groups)  alarmed the girls at first. Seeing as the only other places close by were steakhouses, I convinced them to go. We checked out the kitschy Old Country Store while waiting for a table. My daughter was confused by all the Christian paraphernalia for sale. Welcome to the Bible Belt!:

 

Next to craft beer, I'm a fan of old-timey craft sodas:

When it came to eat, all three of us were pleasantly surprised. Eschewing the fried chicken and its 1690 calories, Amber and I both had the lemon trout, while my wife ordered the catfish. My vascular surgeon would've approved:

We were back on the road the following day, and not much happened during that time. I-95 is a particularly dull stretch of road in North Carolina, and despite all the billboards leading up to it, we decided to give South of the Border a pass.  In fact, the only places where we stopped were at a CVS and an Arby's somewhere in the North Carolina countryside (at the former, the clerk greeted an old couple by name, and asked the woman in front of us how her baby was doing); and at the Ice Cream Bar in Santee, South Carolina, where the fudge was too good to pass up:

It was close to 1630 hours when we finally arrived at our destination in Charleston, South Carolina, but the 1837 Bed and Breakfast was well worth the long drive. Our room was on the third floor of the 1798 Main House:

Our comfortable room came with a queen canopy rice bed for the wife and me, plus a smaller bed for our daughter, and an en suite bathroom:

After taking afternoon tea in the downstairs parlor, we set off on foot in search of dinner, passing by the 1760's Saint Michael Church, where George Washington sat in one of its pews in 1791:

We ended up at the Blind Tiger Pub, where I risked clogging my arteries with a fried chicken sandwich (what my vascular surgeon doesn't know won't hurt me), while taking advantage of the closeness of our B&B by enjoying their Coast Hop Art IPA (pictured) and a Revelry Lefty Loosey IPA. "Cheers" I say...:

 

To be continued...

Mere Mortality

All aboard!

If you've looked at the photograph immediately above, you will probably have noted the presence of a lot more facial hair than usual. The reason for the growth had less to do with the onset of winter and more to do with the immediate aftermath of surgery performed on my neck, the scar of which you can see below in a photo taken after I returned home following an overnight stay in a local hospital. Not wanting to risk cutting open the suture, I decided a more prudent course of action would be to forgo shaving until after a follow-up visit with my vascular surgeon early next year. Unfortunately, after only 11 days of looking around 15 years older (according to my wife), my inexperience with beards resulted in a botched attempt at trimming the facial hair, with the end result being clean-shaven and looking my relatively youthful self again, albeit one who appears to have a neck tumor due to the post-op swelling:

Other than the aforementioned swelling, a sore throat and the aging hipster look, I feel fine following the operation. However, changes will have to be made when it comes to diet, according to the booklet I was given after being discharged from the hospital. As my daughter pointed out, the booklet assumes stroke patients are elderly folks, an impression confirmed by some of the tips given within - I should exercise by "rak(ing) leaves or work(ing) in the garden" and "walking to the mailbox"!:

I should point out here that the surgery I underwent was done in order to prevent a stroke, not because I had one...yet:

And so, as a brave new world opens up, here's a brief round-up of what else has been going on (other than studying Mandarin and taking retirement seminars) since the last time. Like the time I came across a pair of deer while going for a walk in the local cemetery:

Our Christmas tree, purchased from a supermarket. It only goes up to my waist, but at least it's a real living organism. Charlie Brown would've approved, I'm sure:

My daughter the flutist. She "flauted" (get it?) her skills at her school's winter concert earlier this month:

After months of relying on Uber and public transport, our car has finally been inspected, registered and tuned up, and is now plying the highways and byways of northern Virginia. Having been sitting idle on a dock for several months earlier this year, the vehicle initially failed the required emissions test, so the mechanic advised us to drive it on a highway for at least 30 minutes at speeds over 50 mph (80 kph) before bringing it in again. This we did one Sunday by visiting Warrenton, a scenic town of 9000 souls 40 miles (65 kilometers) by freeway from Falls Church. Incorporated in 1810, the downtown area has a number of old buildings:

Because I was advised not to drive for at least a week following the surgery, meaning Shu-E had to do all the driving, I was able to enjoy some of the beers on tap at the Wort Hog Brewery. The girls suggested I pose hiding the scar...:

…and by showing it off, for which I was happy to oblige. As a friend suggested, if anyone inquires as to what happened, I should say "You should see the bear":

As a kid, while waiting in the car at railroad crossings for the freight trains to slowly pass by, I would count all the cars, and then get excited when the red caboose came along. Modern technology has made the caboose obsolete, but Warrenton has a restored 1969 Norfolk and Western model on display:

The old Warrenton Branch spur line has been converted into a bicycle/walking trail:

The Warren Green Hotel was where Union General George McClellan said farewell to his officers on November 11, 1862 after being relieved of his command of the Army of the Potomac by President Abraham Lincoln. The current building was erected in 1875 following the destruction of the hotel in a fire:

Built in 1808, the old county jail is now a local history museum:

A statue of Supreme Court Justice John Marshall stands outside the 1890 courthouse building:

For a town with a pronounced Confederate background (see below), Warrenton has a surprising number of hipster outlets such as the Deja Brew Cafe on Main Street, where I stopped for a salted caramel latte:

A rare public sighting of my wife on Main Street, USA:

We ended our time in Warrenton by visiting the local cemetery. I was looking for the grave of John S. Mosby, a Confederate colonel who led Mosby's Raiders, a cavalry battalion that harassed Union forces and eluded capture right up to the end of the Civil War. While I couldn't find his resting place, it was impossible to ignore the Confederate soldiers memorial in the center of the grounds:

The cemetery is also notorious for its role in the lynching of an African-American man in January 1880. The poor soul was hung from a locust tree in the cemetery, after being accused of bigamy and miscegenation for eloping with a white woman, an event the local tourist authorities neglect to mention:

Our venerated 2013 Honda Accord. The drive to Warrenton and back was apparently successful in that it passed the emissions inspection on its second attempt:

On the weekend before Christmas, our daughter could barely contain her excitement at being outdoors by closing her eyes at Lake Audubon, after confessing that she had never heard of the famed American ornithologist and painter:

Our purpose for going out to the lake was to walk the 4.7-mile (7.6 kilometers) Turquoise Trail at Glade Stream Valley Park:

A series of expensive homes lined the trail:

At one point we came across a pair of black vultures. Due to the overcast sky and poor lighting, I had to do some tinkering to make the birds easier to see in the pic:

I thought shaving off the beard would've restored my youthful appearance. Apparently the surgery has taken more of a toll than I realized:

Speaking of transient ischemic attacks and carotid endarterectomies, I undid whatever dietary progress I'd been making by indulging in a greasy cheeseburger with fries at the Big Buns Damn Good Burgers in Reston following our "hike". Amber, though not yet 16, ordered a much healthier grilled chicken burger, proving once again she's far wiser than her old man. I should make her my dietician. In my defense, it was a damn good burger. The chocolate milkshake with which I washed it down was also pretty fucking good:

In addition to red meat, I'm also supposed to avoid whole milk, so I may not have done myself any favors by indulging in a 奶茶 at Sharetea. Unless powdered milk was used, as my daughter pointed out is often the case at bubble tea outlets:

As it would've been difficult to wrap an acoustic guitar and place it under a tiny tree, Christmas came a little early for Amber this year (also, I wanted her to pick out for herself an instrument that she was comfortable with). This could be the cover shot for her debut album, Interstate 66 Revisited:

Speaking of Christmas, my daughter asked me how the day is celebrated in Taiwan, as she only remembers what we did as a family while we were living in Shengang 神岡. To which I had to reply I really had no idea how non-Christians in Taiwan observe the day, if they do anything at all. As it turns out (courtesy of my friend Steve, a long-time expat in Taichung 台中), the 25th of December essentially is just another day, although in recent years English kindergartens and cram schools 補習班 (one of the latter of which is owned and operated by Steve) have influenced some younger adults to exchange gifts among friends. Hypermarkets also stock Christmas-related merchandise, but it's a far cry from Japan, where department stores are decked out in seasonal decorations, and families celebrate the occasion with a dinner from KFC. And in a country where the day is not a national holiday and only about 1% of the population are Christians (one of the things I like best about Japan), many young couples celebrate Christmas Eve with a night of copulation in a love hotel, a fact of which I was reminded by this sign in a local bubble tea store:

Speaking of fowl, on the day before Christmas Shu-E and I drove to Gaithersburg, Maryland on another one of those furtive Taiwanese shopping excursions that would suggest to the unknowing that some sort of disreputable exchange was taking place. What actually occurs is that my wife will order some Taiwanese dishes online, then arrange to meet in a supermarket parking lot to pay the person and bring home the 餐 - it only looks shady, honest. On this occasion we actually went to a private residence, with a sign in Chinese instructing food buyers to park in the back. While I waited in the car, Shu-E met her dealer, forked over the dough and returned to the car with the goods:

The contraband, which included duck meat (on the far right), a favorite of the missus. Among the other dishes are málàdòufu 麻辣豆腐 - "bean curd flavored with hot spices"; and sǔngān típáng 筍干蹄膀 - "dried bamboo shoots". It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas (though in the end we had steak for Christmas dinner):

As I finish up this entry, it's Christmas Day. As you've already seen, Amber received her main present early, so the gift-giving this morning was low-key. Santa thoughtfully brought all three of us winter beanies with buttons to hold face masks (my daughter also got an Otamatone オタマトーン with which to broaden her musical horizons, and annoy her parents):

It was a relatively balmy 68°F (20°C) in the afternoon when I left the apartment to get some exercise. I ended up taking around 14,000 steps in 2+ hours along the W&OD and Four Mile Run trails, all the while listening to a psychedelia playlist, a good workout for keeping those arteries unclogged, but not quite as beneficial when it comes to beating hearts - according to my Fitbit, my organ was doing 127 bpm at the time I returned home. This could be the start of a Yuletide tradition, except that if all goes according to schedule, the chances are good that I'll be either freezing my ass off or choking on smog (or both) this time next year in Beijing 北京:

Just after taking this selfie a jogger stopped to warn me of a possibly rabid raccoon up ahead. I didn't see the critter, but I wasn't particularly concerned - one of the benefits (?) of my profession is that I've been vaccinated for many contingencies, rabies included. Bring it on procyonid!:

And so another Christmas is upon us. Happy holidays to all in Christendom, and to my family and friends in Japan and Taiwan, メリークリスマス and 聖誕快樂, respectively!