Claw Foot, Hand and Arm …

A lovely walk in Savannah

A lovely walk in Savannah

Our Labor Day Savannah trip began with check-in at the Hamilton Turner Inn.  With its impressive architecture, sweeping staircases, and hardwood furniture, this was the type of establishment to send Mom into raptures.  While I handled details such as keys and Visa cards, she darted about the parlors examining upholstered chairs and knocking on wooden surfaces to test the integrity of the wood grains.  And although I admire Oriental carpeting and Victorian era buffets as much as the next gal, I was more interested in the mushrooms on the three-tiered plate and the lemon beverages beside them.  We all have our hobbies.

Hamilton Turner Inn

Hamilton Turner Inn

Our room was equally enchanting.  Mom found an antique end table, and I discovered a box of complimentary chocolates, the perfect chaser for soiree mushrooms.  I stepped into a bathroom with a claw foot tub, and life hit the mark of perfection.  I can’t understand why they stopped making claw foot tubs.  Life would regain a significant degree of peace if we would reinstate their production.  So we went out for a fabulous meal and returned for an early evening in our perfect, little room.  There’s one certainty about perfection: it has no other goals to attain, so it immediately begins to atrophy.

I first heard him around midnight.  So soft at first that my mind told me that I must be imagining things, but then the noise grew louder.  He approached, and I knew that an interloper had invaded my space and I was his next mark.  That telltale hum by my ear revealed the horrifying truth: there was a skeeter in the room.

I followed my normal protocol and began flailing wildly in the air in hopes of convincing him that even if he could stick a landing, he would obviously be feasting on psychotic tissue; but as with all previous attempts of this technique, it failed utterly.  Any momentary lapse in humming was always rekindled as soon as my limbs ceased movement, so I tried my backup plan of burrowing deeply into the covers and emerging at intervals to swat viciously at my own flesh.  About the time I resigned myself to looking like a smallpox victim the next day, my stalker left; and just as I was dozing off, I heard Mom muttering, “Son of a gun!” and “You little devil!” from across the room.  If the Red Cross could get half as much blood in one day, we’d be well out of the blood drought in Georgia.

The next day we rolled out of bed fatigued, but vengeance was mine when I caught our third party in the bathroom.  Given the CSI pattern he made against the wall, I’m pretty sure I’m still suffering from a nasty case of anemia.  Mom and I tried to put the blight on our lovely vacation behind us, but when we entered the Savannah Bee Company, one of my favorite haunts for honey, Mom pointed to a pith helmet against the wall.

“When you check out, go ahead and have them ring up one of those.  Just in case our skeeter had any friends.”

And while I laughed, I couldn’t help but eye that net and wonder if she was on to something.

A necessary accessory to enjoy a good vacation

A necessary accessory to enjoy a good vacation

© 2013 – Traci Carver


15 responses »

    • I really wish I had read this a week ago! I just got devoured on a trip to middle Florida. I’ve been wearing pants the past few days so no one would label me as a contagion 😀

      • It is simple to make, Shea butter, olive oil, glycerine and essential oil mixed up with an electric mixer. The proportions are not vital but I usually use 100g Shea butter 4 tbsp oil and 2 tbsp glycerine.

    • I never even heard her use a “bad word” until I was an adult. Let’s hear it for self control, eh? I don’t know if I would be able to say the same considering some of the things I’ve let slip around my best friend’s kids. 🙂

  1. Traci, you always succeed in tickling my funny bone.

    Like the topic too. When Cliff and I want to escape mad city life, we head for historic Savannah. The Hamilton Turner Inn is a must-see made famous by John Berendt’s Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. You say of claw-footed tubs: “Life would regain a significant degree of peace if we would reinstate their production.” Probably true!

    • I love Savannah! I enjoy a vacation spot that allows me to walk almost anywhere I want to go, but also offers multiple parks for resting and munching along the way. I’m sure you’ve also been to St. Augustine – another favorite of mine – although Savannah is in the lead slightly 🙂

  2. The CSI pattern got me. You and I have an affinity for finding the blood suckers, don’t we? :-/ They have ruined more than one pleasant evening outdoors. Leeches….

  3. You don’t need to risk larceny charges to get a mosquito net:

    I also happened to see a claw-foot tub at a tile shop Wendi and I visited recently. The drain plug in this particular model was in the center of the bottom of the tub, so I couldn’t in good faith suggest that model since that ‘relaxation slide’ into the water would be brutally interrupted by this unfortunate arrangement… and also because I didn’t pay any attention to the model number and hence don’t remember what it was.

    • Yikes on that drain placement! I don’t know what it is with me and claw foot tubs, but I love them. I think it’s the whole throwback to another era that has such an appeal. Thanks for the tip on the net 🙂 When I lived in the tropics, I was quite familiar with them; I just never thought I’d need one here!

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