That’s how the attendees at the Glynn County Democrats’ Annual Dinner want everyone to think about our state. Georgia is a democratic state. Republican rule is just a blip, the result of Democrats being too generous and thinking the other side ought to have a chance to win.
August 19, 2014
August 17, 2014
August 16, 2014
In coastal Georgia that’s questionable. Although it is widely understood that there’s a good chance Georgia voters will send Democrats to the U.S. Senate and the Governor’s mansion since they have nominated candidates qualified to hold those posts, political organization on the county level is haphazard, at best. Take the up-coming fish-fry to raise funds for an office that’s independent of an establishment of religion in Glynn. Though the local paper obviously received notice of the event and the scheduled appearance of the Senate candidate, the web site for Glynn County Democrats hasn’t been updated since June. The fish-fry isn’t even entered on their calendar or events page and, though there’s a button for donations everywhere, it leads to pay pall, a commercial enterprise whose interest in client privacy is minimal.
August 13, 2014
August 9, 2014
I’m told it has been claimed as a perch by a big black snake. Stay tuned for pictures.
August 8, 2014
The Wikipedia page for Salem, Virginia, which is located just south of Roanoke off Interstate 81, the scenic highway through the Shenandoah Valley and the Blue Ridge Mountains, says the locale was settled by man about 5000 BC.
Apparently, the terrain has always lent itself to being traversed by man. Certainly, the mountains aren’t terribly steep, though more rounded now than before they began eroding. So, the modern highway system follows ancient routes and, to get to the coast from the mountain region, we drive through Fancy Gap and descend snake-like along the mountain side, by-passing the arrow-like up-hill cuts to rescue runaway trucks.
August 7, 2014
August 4, 2014
August 2, 2014
He wanders from pond to pond, checking out the fish and frogs. Today, while I was sitting at the floating picnic table, he searched through three sides until he came up with a near-frog for lunch. At first I held very still. Then, since I didn’t have my camera anyway, I continued drinking my beer. Mr. Heron did not depart until Mr. Smith came up out of the field. Then he flew across the water and landed further on.
Of course, this may be another one of those old herons come here to spend his last days and then expire in the swamp. There have been at least four of those. But, this one does not seem that old. Just impertinent.
I’m not sure it’s a he. There’s no crest on the head and the neck is rather mottled. It would have been nice to get close-up video.
August 1, 2014
I can’t remember ever being homesick. It’s a new sensation. Now my bags are packed and I can hardly wait to head for home next week.
I’ve felt antsy about traveling before, but by the time the day came I was eager to hit the road, or even to depart where I was at. But there was never a sense of going home. Strange.