The penultimate morning of November (love that word which is so often misused)  did not produce quite as lovely a sunrise as yesterday's but it certainly was worth getting up for.  The surf was up this morning for some reason and that added a kind of wild beauty to the scene. The weatherman says the day will deteriorate into wind and rain as it goes along so Uncle Jack is glad he got his walk in early.

    Have a nice day wherever you are and if you have to shovel snow today take it easy.  You need to save your back for January and February.

     Sunday turned out to be the loveliest day of the entire Thanksgiving week-end.  Uncle Jack's heart went out to all the folks who had to climb into their cars and head for home on a day like this when the Outer Banks truly seem like Paradise.

      He and Mrs. U.J. spent a couple of hours this morning checking out the neighborhood which they haven't really had a chance to do since they got back from their trip.  Some of the changes are pictured below.

     Uncle Jack was worn out from the hyper-commerce that transpired at Yellowhouse Gallery yesterday so he was a few minutes late getting to the beach this morning.  The sun was already above the horizon and it was freezing again so he didn't stay long.  He needed to conserve his strength for the second day of the big Thanksgiving Sale at Yellowhouse.

    If the mob at the Tanger mall was any indication yesterday was a banner day for Outer Banks merchants.  The new stoplight in front of the mall helped immeasurably to save lives as crowds of people surged back and forth across the  Bypass from their parking places on the east side streets.   Bizarre.

    Uncle Jack walked dutifully up to the beach at 6:30 this morning,  felt the 34 degree wind chill on his cheeks, took one picture of the mass of ominous black clouds on the horizon, realized that there was no point in waiting around for a sunrise that was not going to happen, and headed home again to bask in the warm glow of his computer.

     What a change from yesterday when the sun shone brightly all day and post-prandial strollers were able to walk off their turkey and mashed potatoes in their shirtsleeves.  Today should be an ideal day for the annual post-Thanksgiving shopping orgy which generates enough heat to keep bargain hunters warm no matter what the wind chill factor.

      Uncle Jack and Mrs. U.J. won't be shopping themselves because they will be minding the store at Yellowhouse Gallery during their annual Thanksgiving Sale which goes on today and Saturday from 10-5 and Sunday from 12 to 4. Lots of  neat items on sale that could help you solve your knottiest Christmas gift problems and plenty of  free parking, too, which you won't find at the outlet mall.

    While he usually eschews commercial exploitation of his weblog he thought he could be forgiven for mentioning that at the age of 75 he has decided to follow the example of his good friends Edward and Richard of the Christmas Shop in Manteo and retire from the wonderful world of retail---but in a  way that could preserve the business for the enjoyment of future customers.

     Rather than having a "going out of business" sale and ending the 36 year life of Yellowhouse Gallery in one fell swoop he prefers to sell it to one buyer who could continue to operate it indefinitely.  To this end he is offering to sell his voluminous inventory of  antique and modern prints and maps including all the fixtures in the main gallery as well as the framing equipment and supplies in the Yellowhouse Annex for the very reasonable (and firm) sum of $90,000.

    While Uncle Jack does not own the historic buildings in which the gallery and framing shop are housed, his landlord is prepared to offer the buyer a lengthy lease on the property which would make it a turnkey operation for the new owner.  (If the new owner prefers to move the business to a different location the selling price will be $94,500).

     For further information about this interesting and unusual business opportunity please call Uncle Jack or Mrs. U.J. at 252-441-6928 (gallery) or 252-441-7460 (home) any time between 10 and 5 Monday through Saturday or email them at yelnag@charter.net   Yellowhouse Gallery will probably never make the owner rich but it is an enjoyable way to make a living and it has a lot of unrealized potential for greater profits in the hands of someone who is not quite as lazy as Uncle Jack.

   If conditions at sunrise are any indication this will be a gorgeous Thanksgiving Day on the Outer Banks.  It's already ten degrees warmer than it was at any time yesterday and the thermometer is headed for a comfortable 60 degrees.  Uncle Jack sends his sincere condolences to all Outer Banks lovers who could not be here today.  Judging from the traffic on the bypass, though, there can't be many of you.

    Mrs. Uncle Jack is preparing a traditional Thanksgiving dinner just like the one Squanto served to the pilgrims---turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, Swedish rye bread and low calory chocolate mousse for dessert.  Yum.

     As soon as they finish the dishes they are going to start resting up for their big sale at Yellowhouse Gallery Friday and Saturday. Drop in and say hello if you are on the Outer Banks this weekend.

     A very happy Thanksgiving to all wherever you are!  

   Uncle Jack has been trudging up to the beach to get a picture of the  sunrise every morning since he got home from New Orleans but to no avail----until this morning.  The thick black clouds that have hidden the horizon for the past couple of days have gone away and the sun shone forth brilliantly right on time at 6:43.

     It is still just as cold as yesterday, 43 degrees, and the wind is still blowing out of the north but somehow the beach seemed much more inviting this morning so he walked a mile down to the Outer Banks Pier (with the wind on his back) and returned home via the splendid Multi-use Pedestrian Walkway which is one of South Nags Head's truly excellent amenities.

     It is a truly splendid day on the Outer Banks and all the folks who are arriving this week-end in anticipation of Thanksgiving should be pleased as punch to be here.

   As the pictures below will attest this morning's sunrise in South Nags Head was glorious, unlike yesterday when the sun never made an appearance at any time.  Uncle Jack doesn't know how much rain fell on Monday but it was enough to turn the beach road into a river in places making driving extremely hazardous. 

        While he usually eschews commercial exploitation of his weblog he thought he could be forgiven for mentioning that at the age of 75 he has decided to follow the example of his good friends Edward and Richard of the Christmas Shop in Manteo and retire from the wonderful world of retail---but in a  way that could preserve the business for the enjoyment of future customers.

     Rather than having a "going out of business" sale and ending the 36 year life of Yellowhouse Gallery in one fell swoop he prefers to sell it to one buyer who could continue to operate it indefinitely.  To this end he is offering to sell his voluminous inventory of  antique and modern prints and maps including all the fixtures in the main gallery as well as the framing equipment and supplies in the Yellowhouse Annex for the very reasonable (and firm) sum of $90,000.

     While Uncle Jack does not own the historic buildings in which the gallery and framing shop are housed, his landlord is prepared to offer the buyer a lengthy lease on the property which would make it a turnkey operation for the new owner.  (If the new owner prefers to move the business to a different location the selling price will be $94,500).

     For further information about this interesting and unusual business opportunity please call Uncle Jack or Mrs. U.J. at 252-441-6928 (gallery) or 252-441-7460 (home) any time between 10 and 5 Monday through Saturday or email them at yelnag@charter.net   Yellowhouse Gallery will probably never make the owner rich but it is an enjoyable way to make a living and it has a lot of unrealized potential for greater profits in the hands of someone who is not quite as lazy as Uncle Jack.

   Just a quickie to report that we have arrived home safely after three days of  mind-numbing interstate cruising through the piney woods and red clay of Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia and South Carolina. After nearly two months in the wide open spaces of  Arizona, New Mexico and Texas it was hard to adjust to driving through endless tunnels of  second-growth scrub trees on their way to becoming chip board and cardboard cartons.

     For the first time since the Virginia Dare bridge opened a couple of years ago we decided to to take the old bridge from Manns Harbor to Roanoke Island and we were glad we did.  The corridor of trees and flowers through the north end of the island is as beautiful as anything we saw in all our travels this summer.  It's a pity in a way that visitors who arrive on the Outer Banks via the new bridge don't get to see this miraculous bit of landscaping, especially when everything is in bloom.

     Uncle Jack had hoped to have a sunrise picture to decorate this homecoming weblog page but it was not to be.  The weather this morning is awful enough to make him want to turn around and flee back to sunny Arizona---almost.  There is nothing like having an ocean around to look at even when it is acting up the way it is right now.

     Anyway the trip was fun but the Mini is happy to be home for a while and so are we.

       Uncle Jack and Mrs. U.J. have been in New Orleans for four days now and they are at a loss for words to describe their feelings.  On the one hand there seems to be reason for optimism as the French Quarter begins to show signs of life again but in other parts of the city the devastation is so overwhelming as to make them wonder if the city can ever recover. 
      Optimists are already busy planning for Mardi Gras and next year's Jazz Fest in April but if these exercises in frivolity actually do take place it will be against a somber background of destroyed homes and lives.  On the other hand maybe the city will be ready for some mindless fun by that time.
      In the meantime the French Quarter where we are staying seems to be in a kind of suspended animation.  All the buildings are here but without people crowding the streets and restaurants the whole place seems like a movie set waiting for the director to yell "Action".  It's downright eery.
      But there are hopeful signs.  A few restaurants are open, most of them with short hours and even shorter staffs.  There is a little live music to be heard in a few places.  Many businesses now closed are planning to open soon.  But unless there is a huge influx of tourists during the next couple of months it is hard to see how many of them can survive.  Some were still reeling from the long-term effects of 9/II on tourism and now this. 
      We have made our reservations for the French Quarter Festival in April and fully expect that the resilient residents of this indomitable neighborhood will pull it off  somehow in some form.  But there is more to the city than the French Quarter and it's the other 90% we are most worried about.  But then again Hiroshima survived so maybe there is hope for New Orleans, too.

Scroll down to the next entry for more pictures.                                                            

   A few more pictures from a drowned city.

     Our next stop after reluctantly leaving South Padre Island on Monday morning was Kingsville, Texas,  headquarters of the 825,000 acre King Ranch (through a lot of which we drove on the way to Kingsville).  This incredible operation which produces cattle, oil, sugar, cotton, thoroughbred horses and a host of other products was started 150 years ago by a penniless Irish immigrant who ran away from home at 13 in New York City and stowed away on a steamer bound for Texas. The American Dream writ about as large as it can be writ.
      Captain Richard King went to Mexico back in the 1850's to buy cattle for his ranch and persuaded 100 Mexicans to go back to Texas with him to work his new spread. The descendants of these workers, many of them fifth-generation "Kineros", still make up the bulk of the ranch's staff and Spanish is the "first language" on the ranch.Paternalism takes on a whole new meaning here with cradle-to-the-grave security the order of the day (in return for total loyalty and a lot of very hard work).
      The Kleberg family has owned the place for generations and some 150 descendants of the first Klebergs (tied to the King family long ago by marriage) now share ownership of the family corporation.  The Kleberg mansion is no longer lived in but is used by members of the family to entertain their friends.  (Visitors in the past couple of weeks include President Bush,  Prince Charles and what's-her-name,  Nolan Ryan, and George Strait among others).  Visiting the King Ranch while in Texas is comparable to spending the night in Buckingham Palace while in London.
     Our tour of one small corner of the ranch was fascinating as our delightful tourguide,  a fifth-generation Kinero who is studying computer science at Texas A & M in Kingsville,  rattled off a torrent of statistics and other information about this largest and oldest of all American agri-business enterprises.  To her credit, we think, she is planning to leave the ranch and take her chances in the wider world when she finishes her studies.  Perhaps she will return one day as a distinguished guest and get to stay in the "big house" overnight.
      If you are ever in the vicinity a visit to the King Ranch is an enjoyable and educational experience---a great opportunity to see how the "other half" lives whether they be the Kleberg family who hobnob with kings and presidents or the hapless vaqueros who labor on their behalf for 12 hours a day six days a week.

http://www.texasoutside.com/kingsville/kingranchframes.htm
     

     After leaving the King Ranch late Monday afternoon we drove a hundred miles or so through the vast sugar and cotton fields of  south Texas to a town called Port Lavaca (In English Port Cow) where there were several chain motels.  Much to our surprise and chagrin the Best Western had no vacancies.  The Motel 6 down the road had no vacancies.  The Executive Inn across the highway was closed for repairs inflicted by Hurricane Rita.  It began to dawn on us that we had reached the hurricane zone and that things were definitely not back to normal.  We did get the last room in a Days Inn whose parking lot was filled with pick-up trucks belonging to workers who were doing various kinds of post-hurricane work in the vicinity.
      We should have known that it would get worse as we got closer to New Orleans but we drove on Tuesday morning through Galveston where there were only minor signs of damage and then through Port Arthur near the Louisiana border which had been hit very hard.  Huge piles of debris line the streets of Port Arthur and hundreds of houses are covered with blue tarpaulins while the owners wait for roofers who have vastly more work than they can handle.
      They started looking for a motel room in a town called Sulfur, Louisiana near Lake Charles where the kindly desk clerk informed Uncle Jack that there wasn't a motel room to be had anywhere for a hundred miles around New Orleans.  She suggested that we try the hotel at the casino operated by the Cashoutta Indian tribe in a town called Kinder about 25 miles north of Lake Charles.  Mrs. U.J. got on the phone immediately and nailed down what must have been one of their last rooms because when they arrived an hour later the place was sold out. 
     Lucky for them they have reservations in their favorite apartment house in the French Quarter where they expect to arrive around noon on Wednesday.  After the destruction they have already seen in Port Arthur and elsewhere they are prepared for the worst in the Big Easy.  Stay tuned.