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HISTORY | DOGS | HOME | FOOD | GARDEN

Pine Point

Pine Point

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We still periodically gravitate to the old house. We go out on boats and fish and sail. We cook and gather for dinner. Some of my favorite childhood memories are from summers when as many as seventeen people, young and old, showed up in the same week to stay in a cottage with two and a half bedrooms and two screened sleeping porches. They are not really sleeping porches, they're both rather small, but at times like that, we slept on them. We built bonfires and Uncle Chick told scary stories about the Man-eating Cryptomarian Tree. We ate a lot of fish and crabs, marshmallows, smores and hotdogs.

For me, Pine Point also has a solitary side that I particularly like. After my father died, I went there a number of times alone to visit my mother at nearby Westminster-Canterbury. The first couple of times, my sister went with me. I thought she was an awfully restless sleeper until I spent a night alone and realized that it was the house and the wind and the mice and who knows what else that creaked and scurried and thumped all night.


Craig wanted me to leave out the picture of Soul. He thought she looked abused, though of course we know she was not. She was just very old (maybe even close to 30) when I took this picture, and although it looks like a bare piece of ground, that's just because it was winter and the grass had been cut short. In fact, Soul had a good-sized pasture, a nice little wooden stable, and a row of apple trees. Everything a Jenny mule could wish for in life.

Pine Point itself is a bluff overlooking the river. The
Tidewater is brackish.
The Diningroom
The room we stay in
Looking from the kitchen
The Dock in the Fall
Old Soul

History | Dogs | HOME | Food | Garden

 

PINE POINT
2004 Pine Point Slideshow
Old Pictures of Pine Point
Even Older Pictures
Jekyll Island Birds
Pine Point 2006: Boats