A Charleston ghost story

"All Southern tales are like intricate recipes -- part myth, part truth, and part lies."-Michael Lee West


This is a Lettered Olive (Oliva Sayana), a symbol and the official shell of the state of South Carolina. Prolific along the South Carolina coast, it was found and named in 1834 by Dr. Edmund Ravenel, who was an early pioneer in conchology. The "lettered" part of the name stems from the appearance of fine markings, resembling hieroglyphics, on the shell's surface.
Ravenel is a prominent family name in Charleston, and the doctor had a house and small practice out on Sullivan's Island, a tiny barrier island at the mouth of Charleston Harbor.

Legend has it that Dr. Ravenel's young daughter, Anna, met a U.S. army soldier named Edgar Perry, who was stationed out at Ft. Moultrie on the island, and the two fell in love.
Perry, who was born in Boston, had enlisted under a false name due to his young age, a common practice amongst young men throughout history.
While Perry progressed rapidly through the ranks, advancing from private to sergeant major, his position as a soldier -- and a Yankee -- deemed him an entirely unacceptable as a suitor for Anna. Dr. Ravenel forbid his daughter to see Perry, but she ignored her father's orders and continued to spend time with the Perry.
The discovery of the couple's ongoing relationship incensed Dr. Ravenel, who reacted by secreting Anna away, some say locking her in her room for an extended period.

Perry, who had achieved the highest rank possible for a non-commissioned officer, sought an early end to his enlistment, and in doing so, confessed his real name to his commanding officer. His true name was Edgar Allen Poe.
Poe was discharged from service, and returned to his family up North, while the forlorn Anna, still sequestered, weakened, contracted yellow fever and died. When Poe heard the tragic news about Anna, he immediately travelled back down to Charleston, hoping to pay respects to the girl he had loved, but a bitter Dr. Ravenel refused him the opportunity, vowing that there would never be a grave for Poe to visit.


The Ravenels have a family plot in the cemetery of the Charleston Unitarian Church, and were said to have buried Anna there in an unmarked grave as a final familial rebuke of Poe. Although they always denied this act, they never would reveal where Anna was buried, and to this day she is renown as one of the famous ghosts of Charleston, who occasionally haunts the churchyard.

Poe would go on to become much more famous than any Ravenel, and in 1843 published a short story called, "The Gold Bug," a tale involving code deciphering and buried treasure, set on Sullivan's Island. One of his final pieces of writing, before his death at the age of 40, was the sad poem about -- possibly -- Anna Ravenel, titled, "Annabel Lee."

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Road trip

Right before we left on our road trip to Charleston, we made the mistake of watching, "Deliverance." Wow. I'd never seen the film before, and it was pretty disturbing. Needless to say, my enthusiasm about stopping off at little roadside places along our route was slightly dampened.
We drove through some of Florida's horse country, which consists of lots of land, and tiny towns that generate a lot of revenue through speed traps. Along the way, we spotted some firsts, like these purple peppers...

...and a school bus with monster tires...


The following place was not a "first," but rather a scary sight that we've all seen somewhere else before: a little motel with an owner who happens to be interested in taxidermy.

Shower anyone?

"Visit our FREE museum!" Um, no thanks.

Then, as if that weren't frightening enough...we came upon this little church. The Deliverance Tabernacle.

A little free p.r. advice: change your name!!

I was happy when we started seeing signs of the changing landscape, getting into the low country.

And very pleased to see the civilized entrance to the state of South Carolina. There are stiff penalties for littering here, so the roadsides are pristine.


I really started to relax when I spotted Big Mama, as we were entering Charleston.

Whew, we made it!

Ahh, winding down with a cold drink and a game of chess in our bastion of overpriced civilization; I'll take it!

Cappuccino & water

I like how cops who are part of K-9 units always refer to their dogs as their "partner," because it shows the respect within their relationship.
Lucky is often my partner on outings -- he loves riding shotgun. Look at that smile.

Catching the breeze. Lots of good stuff to sniff.

We recently enjoyed a visit to our favorite cafe, for cappuccino and water. Lucky likes this place b/c he's always welcome, and sometimes he gets a plate of ham! Sarasota is a pretty dog-friendly town.

The boys and I met up with our friend, Ms. Barbara, or, as I like to call her, "Ms. Bahbwa." She is my son's former speech therapist, and, I guess ever since he graduated, we have developed this twisted sense of humor wherein we think it's funny to mispronounce words. I know it's terrible, but we do things like tell Cooper that we're going to "cwy" if he doesn't give us a kiss.
Here she is arriving, with her Obama hat in hand. She's fired up.

I think we all appreciate days like this!

Friday Friday

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi; you're my only hope."

J'adore Tim Gunn

I just finished reading Tim Gunn's wonderful book, A Guide to Quality, Taste & Style, which I really enjoyed.
I'm not a big watcher of "Project Runway," but do think the charming and dashing Mr. Gunn is the highlight of that show. His book is an interesting & fun read, with gems of advice that had me chuckling throughout.

One of the features he includes in his book is a list of "films of style." Gunn recommends the following films not "solely for their wardrobes -- even though many of them are exemplary." A great list, very much appreciated, and definitely worth sharing:

Blow-Up
Doctor Zhivago
The Women
Auntie Mame
Dark Victory
Persona
The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer
The Palm Beach Story
The Fountainhead
Funny Face
Dinner at Eight
The Philadelphia Story
All About Eve
Austin Powers
Sleeper
L'Avventura
Valley of the Dolls
The Devil Wears Prada
Infamous
Metropolitan
The Draughtsman's Contract
The Go-Between
Prospero's Books
Grey Gardens
Mildren Pierce
Last Year at Marienbad
Masculin Feminin
Funny Girl
Shampoo
Desk Set
A Place in the Sun
Cleopatra

Some of these, like "Auntie Mame" are all-time favorites of mine, and others -- I've never even heard of, so I'm thrilled. I hope you find something you like on this list, too.

Madame Charlotte!

Among the divine desserts ("puddings?") Rachel made during our visit, was a charlotte. A chocolate-raspberry charlotte.
It was so delicious!
I've been meaning to learn how to make one of these for some time, and have procrastinated, so it was great to see Rachel demonstrate how it's done. Like having a front seat at a cooking show.
The recipe comes from Rachel's friend's mother (who is French, so I consider this methode authoritative), and calls for soaking the Ladyfingers in rum & water. With no rum on hand (can you imagine?), we used brandy instead. The charlotte mould is lined with the biscuits, and then filled with a chocolate mousse. Some fresh raspberries were also sunk into the mix.

So pretty! It tasted as good as it looks!

Cooper loved it so much, he was giddy. Or tipsy from the brandy. Or hyper from the chocolate.

Whatever the case, he would've married Rachel if she weren't already taken.
I've been given the assignment, by my instructor, to make a charlotte within one month. I'm looking forward to it!

These shoes rule. These shoes suck.

Cooper and I got back from Montreal Sunday night. We had a great time, and received royal treatment from our friends.
Travelling w/Cooper proved to be slightly less civilized, at times, than travelling with his older brothers, but he was well-behaved most of the time.

A Canadian Customs official lectured me about travelling alone with my son without a note of permission from his father. I've never run into this before, and was shocked! First of all, if I were going to kidnap one of my sons, it probably wouldn't be the three-year-old. I mean, he's still in diapers, and is susceptible to meltdowns. Secondly, I wouldn't hide out in Canada; way too cold.
After admonishing me for my carelessness, the woman asked me what I did for a living, and who paid for my trip. She asked where "the father" was, and if we could reach him. I told her she could call him if she wanted, and stood there wondering why nobody had alerted me to the need to bring a permission slip. I was also glad I didn't have any heroin in my pants. I wondered if I was going to be escorted to a room for questioning, but apparently, I just needed to stand there and be good & quiet while the woman asked me personal questions. Then she let me into her country.
It's good that people are on the look-out for illegal activity, but I think that if the concern over kidnappings, parental and otherwise, has reached this point, then perhaps governments should lay down a law and inform people about what legal documents they might need. Otherwise it feels a little like random harassment. Or at least it did to me, because of her tone.
On Wednesday, I went to this new chiropractor who was recommended to me. This is the second time I've seen her, and the last, because I've decided I can't stand her. She is one of those seemingly conceited-yet-insecure types, who asks all these questions about your life and then compares her life to your life, like it's a competition.
I had wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but now the jury is in, and she's way too annoying. This week, she asked me if I worked, and then went off on a tangent about how, being a mom is such hard work...but unlike her, I don't get paid and I can't leave my job at 5:00 and just be free! Gawd. I've heard all this before. It's like she's waiting for me to say, "Oh yeah, it really sucks -- but your life sounds so great!" so that she can feel better about herself. At first, I didn't say anything, because -- really, where do you begin? But then she announced, "It's really a thankless job!"
Eh?!
I said, "Uh, no, not really!" and went on to say that there are a lot of choices in life, and that there are pros and cons to every scenario, and that it always comes down to priorities. She doesn't have kids, and I don't even know (or care) if she wants kids, but I guess she'll have a huge learning curve if she ever becomes a mother, if she wants to be any good at it. Being smug and judgmental never benefits anyone.
Questions about your lifestyle never end. It's always something. I don't mind the questions so much as the feeling I get when they're asked by people who have their claws out and are ready to pounce on me.
One of the things I consistently tell my children is that they can do anything they want in life. They can be anything, and do anything they dream of. Or at least try. And whatever kind of life they build for themselves, I'll be really proud of them, because they're good people. They're smart, kind, funny, and unique -- these are the things that matter, and most importantly, that they're happy!
Last night, we went to see comedians Margaret Cho and Liam Sullivan, who were both hilarious. Margaret Cho is so cool & funny & sweet; she had a lot to say about women and men, sex, differences, and self-acceptance.
Liam Sullivan had everyone in the audience howling as he performed as "aunt Susan," the lesbian musician, and also as the awesome "teenager" Kelly, whom I adore. She sang her "Shoes" song, which is about more than shoes.
Poor Kelly is often surrounded by idiots...people slagging her. I can relate.

Before the show, "the father" of my children and I went out for tapas and sangria. We had a really nice time,

and I was happy with the choices I made.

Dolphins before coffee!

This morning, Wyatt & I were out w/the dogs, and dolphins came by! There were three of them that we could see. What a thrill!

It's hard to capture the excitement in a picture, but it was a wonderful sight.

The Fine Art of Travel

Tomorrow, Cooper & I are off to Montreal. We're both very excited. He's psyched about the plane ride (I, on the other hand, will take Ativan), and we both are excited to see our friends and the beautiful city of Montreal -- which everyone tells us we'll love.
Bad news: our hotel staff is on strike. So, according to my email advisory, there will be "No restaurant or bar service, and limited housekeeping."
Yeah, yeah, The Chambermaid can make her own bed, that's no concern. I am, however, spooked about the prospect of a sort of Anderson Cooper-in-Beirut scenario -- or worse -- "The Shining" with ghost twins in the hallway.
One thing is for sure: there will be no club sandwiches, damn it.
The last several trips I've taken have required suitcase check-in, but this trip is up for carry on -- of which I am a BIG fan. I like to breeze through.
Therefore, I have gone to great pains to check the size of my duffle bag, as well as the parameters of my airline's carry-on luggage. The federal security guidelines, however, present a bit of a freak-out fest for me.
According to the Transportation Security Administration (TSA), there are a lot of guidelines for those wishing to carry on their baggage.
First of all, there's the 3-1-1 rule. You can take THREE ounces of liquids & gels -- no more! -- and you get ONE quart-size zip-lock bag. Period. So, I need to get mini versions of saline solution, etc., and I guess I will ditch my liquid foundation and any perfume bottles for "sample" or "travel" sizes.
I was not shocked to read that I cannot take boxcutters or sabers in my carry-on bag. Nor are guns, liquid bleach, or dynamite acceptable. One cannot take swords -- antique, gift, or otherwise, or sabers. Nor are Chinese throwing stars (a.k.a. Ninja stars), or nunchucks allowed.

Ice picks, hockey sticks, spear guns, and meat cleavers are also prohibited.
I am most curious to see what the security personnel say about the cookie cutter I will be packing. I guess travel is still an adventure, even if certain aspects have become monotonous and bizarre.

License to ill

Driving alone today, I had the windows down and was listening to one of my son's playlists, when the Beastie Boys came on. "No Sleep till Brooklyn"! When I hear that song, which must be played loud, I'm mentally transported back to my teens, to a time when my sister and I were into driving and blasting music. We were carefree.

Whenever we went to visit our cousins, who lived on the other side of the state, it was our tradition, on the last leg of the journey, to crank up "No Sleep till Brooklyn," and fire up. It was funny, and it was fun!
Someone once advised me that, as an adult, you should never forget what it's like to be a teenager -- it's good for your creativity. Stay up too late, she urged. Play your music too loud. Carpe diem!
Kindergartners are always getting credit for teaching us "everything we ever needed to know" in life, while the oft-maligned teens are blacklisted as annoying and troublesome.
But what about their good points?
They care about their friends, they have intense feelings, they're fashionable, and most of them don't think too far into the future. Also, they don't drone on about golf.
I like the age I'm at now, and probably the only teen attribute I have these days is that I'm easily irritated, but I remember my teen days pretty well, and think that there's a pretty good point to the inherent self-absorption. Some adults...grown-ups, if you will...get a little too wrapped up in what it is they think they're supposed to be. I don't think it makes anyone happy. There's a certain balance to be found, with responsibility on the other end of the teeter-totter.
So, remember that: crank it up, but get to work on time.
The key teen goal I re-aspire to -- and I hope it happens soon -- is to be able to sleep in until noon.
Or Brooklyn.

Mail from "The Girl"

Cooper received a postcard yesterday from Sacha, whom he calls "The Girl" (such a rarity in his life!). He was so happy and excited to get his very own mail, and to see a picture of beautiful Montreal.

The two of us will be travelling there next week, and we're looking forward to a fun adventure!

Lisa Lisa

My friend Sarah mentioned that when she thinks of pearls, she thinks of Lisa...Simpson.
Of course!
Lisa always wears her sizeable pearl choker.

When I Simpsonized myself last year during a Burger King promo, I chose pearls, too.

Pearls steal the spotlight

As a pearl aficionado, I've been thrilled to spot my favorite gem appearing in a major way on some of the most influential women in the U.S., from fashion and popular culture to politics.
Stylist Patricia Field chose a classic beauty for Carrie Bradshaw to wear as her signature staple in the Sex and the City movie: an opera-length Mikimoto 8-8.5mm Akoya strand.

It's perfection -- a strand that can be worn with virtually everything in a woman's wardrobe.
In some scenes, like the one pictured above, Carrie pairs her pearls with rhinestones, a Fall trend that includes the bold vintage looks which can be viewed in full force on the ladies of "Mad Men."

In other early 1960's style channeling, presidential candidates' wives Michelle Obama and Cindy McCain can be seen in dresses & pearls reminiscent of Jackie Kennedy. Good call!
Jackie's famous Kenneth Jay Lane faux three-strand became such a part of her iconic image as First Lady, it inspired precise replicas by the Franklin Mint and Carolee. QVC also offers a version, as well as a selection of necklaces from Kenneth Jay Lane.

Barbara Bush, though no longer in the spotlight, is rarely seen without her signature pearls...

...and Hillary Clinton has been wearing the same 16-inch strand for the past several years, which indicates to me that it's probably made of genuine South Sea pearls.

South Sea pearls are prized for their large size, however, they never achieve the mirror-like luster of the Japanese akoyas, like Carrie's Mikimotos. Conversely, the akoyas rarely grow past 10 mm in size, so there is an exponential price jump reflecting the scarcity starting at the 9mm size.
I may not share the same political ideology as U.S. House Speaker, Nancy Pelosi, but I must say I applaud her stylish strand of 11-14mm multi-colored Tahitian pearls (as well as her Hermes scarf-as-hijab worn during a visit to Syria).

Pelosi's necklace made such an impression on American women last year, it drove up pearl sales and prompted Los Angeles pearl dealer Leon Rebibo, of The Pearl Source, to offer a "Nancy Pelosi necklace."
Last night, when Sarah Palin spoke at the Republican National Convention as the party's vice presidential nominee, she donned a golden South Sea pearl necklace for the occasion. Very pretty.

Yet, while all eyes were on Palin, mine were on the gorgeous, massive strand of Tahitian pearls draped around the neck of Rudy Giuliani's wife, Judi. No wonder she was smiling.
As the election season promises to drive me nuts in the weeks to come, I'll be looking at the various pearls on display to serve as a beautiful distraction from all the hot air.