Crispy Critters

There's something I want to write about, but I just haven't found the time yet. This post will have to suffice in the meantime. I wanted to assure everyone that I still know how to type...kinda.

Oh, by the way, those are azalea blossoms up there to the left. Azaleas grow well around here, and are a local hallmark of spring. They look stunning for about a week, and that's it; they're done. But, it's a glorious week when they are all in bloom.

My face is starting to fall off. My arms and legs sting. The skin on my forehead feels taut and dry. I am sun-burned. The inevitable peeling has begun. Still, it's mild compared to the severe sunburn I got a few years ago when I was visiting Suzanne in Spain. I fell asleep on a terrace with a cool Mediterranean breeze wafting over me, and burned myself to a crisp.

Last Sunday I went boating on the James River with Sadie on her new boat. I thought I had everything I needed, but forgot a beach towel and sunscreen. Oops. Did you know that when you are out on the water on a mild, breezy day, you have no idea how much sun you are getting until it's too late? You would think I'd have learned from my Mediterranean Scorchfest.

Even though I am feeling slightly crispy, it was a fun day that I will remember. There were four of us, although the boat will hold up to seven. This allowed room for the snacks we brought. We probably could have lasted all summer on the water with the amount of food assembled. Sadie bought a cute boat; it's white & yellow, with an inboard-outboard motor, very comfortable seats, and a stereo system that broadcasts Gangsta Rap no matter which station is selected on the tuner. Sadie docks her boat at the marina at Rockett's Landing where she lives. Below, Sadie & Dot head out from Sadie's building for the marina.

The weather was clear & mild, and it was a perfect day for an outing. We anchored below the Varina-Enon bridge, and had an informal & impromptu meeting on the James. We laughed & talked & ate, and the three brave girls jumped in the water. I stayed in the boat. There wasn't a lot of traffic on the river since it was Mother's Day. We figured that most people were standing in the parking lot of Outback Steakhouse or Red Lobster clutching pagers.


That's Dot above with Sadie at the helm. The picture below is Candy.


Next we have Jimmy Dean's home. Jimmy Dean is famous for an awful song called Big Bad John, and some darned good sausage.



Across the river and down a ways, we came to an industrial behemoth at the river's edge. This is where Jimmy Dean makes his sausage. Live pigs are brought upriver by barge, and then forced to swim to the sausage factory. You can see the partially opened intake door in the photo below. This method accounts for the superior quality of Jimmy Dean sausage. Only the fittest pigs survive the swim from the barge to the factory. The rest are swept downstream by the current. It is rumored that the producers of inferior sausage (such as Gunnoe's) wait downstream to fish the weaker (and, some assert, dead) pigs out of the water for processing at their own sausage plants. PETA is headquartered down the river in Norfolk, and they frequently have "Save Our Swine" flotillas along this stretch of the James.


You didn't really believe that sausage story, did you? That's actually a power plant operated by Dominion Power. Most of the views along the river are tree-lined and pretty, but you come across some eyesores like this from time to time. Those truly are pictures of Jimmy Dean's home up there, but he sold his sausage empire to Sara Lee back in 1984, and he moved to Virginia in 1990 and built his riverfront home.

Oh, look. There's Dot sunning herself on the stern.


Here we have some scraps of food. A little maritime picnic of hummus, pita, fruit, cheese, chips, crackers, popcorn, and cookies. This photo looks sort of like one of those Hidden Object games. Can you find the hand?


We saw many birds in the air and on the water. This blue heron had found a serene place to perch off mysterious Hatchers Island. Hatchers Island was created when the Dutch Gap Canal cut a more efficient channel along the river's meandering path. We passed under a rickety wooden bridge that spanned the western loop of the old riverway, providing a connection from mainland to island. It didn't look safe enough for foot traffic, but I could see a sign up on the bridge that said "Speed Limit 3." I don't think I've ever seen a speed limit of 3 mph.


A pleasant day on the river comes to an end back at Sadie's home. We all got a bit crispy, but we had a lot of fun & laughter.