Harker's Island

After lunch yesterday, we took a drive to one of our favorite places, Harker's Island.  It is a half-hour drive through interesting countryside.  This falling-down building along the way, for example, seems to get closer and closer to the ground every year.  I could go back and look at the same picture over the past three or four years and see how much its ruin has progressed.

We always enjoy this drive.  One year, we ate lunch out here at the Fish Hook Grill, where we discovered that downeast specialty, clear Hatteras clam chowder - delicious! - also served at the Ruddy Duck restaurant in Morehead City and in frozen quarts at Blue Ocean seafood market.

At Brooks Creek, there is a sheltered little harbor where these picturesque shrimpers are always docked, their big nets drying in the stiff breeze.

One of the reasons for our drive, aside from the scenery, was a visit to the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center, which had been badly damaged by Hurricane Florence two years ago.  We had attended a wonderful event last year, a fund-raiser for the Museum called the Taste of Core Sound, but because of the damage to the museum it had been held in Morehead City at Southern Salt Restaurant, which was much more convenient for us.

We had read that the event would be held back out on Harker's Island this year,  but alas, the building was deserted, a construction trailer out in the parking lot, and no indication of when it would be open.

We drove back to Morehead City and stopped at the Museum's temporary headquarters on Arendell Street, which we had visited last year.  It is a fine old house with high ceilings and a beautiful staircase and fireplaces, and it always reminds us of Martha's "Mamah's" house in Raleigh.

There were three women standing in the lobby, and Martha surprised them by asking when we entered, "Is one of you Deb Thornbush?"  She was close - it was Deb Brushwood, and she remembered who Martha was.  She had been corresponding with her for some time trying to get my name changed on their mailings to us; instead of Richard and Martha Betz, they were addressed to Clarkson and Martha Betz.  I introduced myself as Clarkson, and we all agreed that it was a much more distinguished-sounding name than Richard.  Nobody could explain how Richard had become Clarkson, but Deb promised to take care of it.

We also discovered that the Museum would not be ready in time for the Taste of Core Sound this year on February 28, but would be held at Southern Salt again.  Tickets had just become available, and Martha snagged the very first two tickets.

In the meantime, what has happen to the two young chain-smoking men who were working on the elevators on Thursday and Friday, but seem to have disappeared for a week?  We don't mind climbing the stairs - we usually do, anyway - but some of those folks staying on the Fifth Floor might find it a bit more of an inconvenience.  "Resolute Elevators" needs to be a little more resolute.  Clarkson wants to know what is going on!