StoveAs was the case in many old homes, this house’s original kitchen was perched on wheels and separate from the main house That way if the kitchen caught on fire, it could be quickly wheeled away, thus preventing damage to the main house.

In fact, beautiful and comprehensive renovations have been made to this house through the years , including, of course, the kitchen which is now firmly attached and elegant.

But just for fun, imagine that the kitchen indeed remained unattached. On and on it went that way through the years. People adapted and it just seemed easier to do it the old way. Life moved on and modern conveniences came into being. Now the old detached kitchen had a real stove, sub=zero refrigerator, granite counters and, of course Wi-Fi. It also had a 6 cylinder engine, power steering and automatic transmission. No more pushing, just get in it, start it up and go.

One can imagine a conversation such as the following:

Sallie: Okay, I guess I’ll toddle out to the kitchen and get dinner ready. Burger and fries okay with you tonight?

Husband; Sounds good.

(from the kitchen) Siri, dial husband’s mobile

calling husband’s mobile


hi…what do you want on your burger

oh, just the regular: lettuce, tomato, onion and ketchup

oops…I think we’re out of ketchup but don’t worry, I’ve got the kitchen keys right here…I’ll just drive down to the bi-lo, grab some ketchup and by the time I’m back, the burgers will be just perfect.

okay…see you in a bit.

five minutes later;

Siri, dial husband’s mobile

Calling husband’s mobile


Little problem here…I’ve been picked up on a moving violation.

What happened?

Well, I guess I was in a little more of a hurry than I thought. Most of the town’s police force is here trying to figure out what my fine is…they’re being very nice. They have fine schedules for speeding cars, vans, trucks, motorcycles, golf carts but nothing for kitchens so they’re having a problem coming up with a number. Further more, these hurricane strength windows we had installed prevented me from hearing the sirens. Unfortunately, the burgers are now seriously overdone. Wait a sec though! The French fries smell perfect…..why don’t I just pull them out of the oven, dash a bit of salt over them and offer them to the officers , perhaps we can come to a deal that way.

Great idea….good luck.

Officers….may I offer you some freshly baked, hot out of the oven, home-made French fries? Perhaps, we can move along on a settlement while you munch on them.

We’d very much like that….they smell delicious.

Wonderful. I hope you enjoy them.

Siri, call husband’s mobile

Calling husband’s mobile


Hi….I think we may be making progress, The French fries are a hit. Wait a sec…there’s a tap on my window. Yes, officer? Anything I can do? You want what?

To Husband …Oh dear, the deal may be off.


They want ketchup with their fries.


CanonI was born to go boom and it’s been nigh on to 200 years since I’ve done my thing. Can you imagine my angst, my desire to once again go boom, just one more time. Not to cause harm, you understand, but just to experience my raison d’etre one last time. (Read on….you’ll understand why I use that fancy word.)

As I said, I’m pretty old. If history proves to be correct, I was born/made in Denmark, somehow ended up with the French (now you understand my fancy language), found my way to Caliboque Cay and was rescued by members of the Seabrook family. There appear to be a lot of holes in my history so if anyone has any information it would be greatly appreciated. There are days when I have no visitors and it would be good to have that knowledge so I could reminisce.

In the meantime, I like company…it’s fun to hear people comment on me, asking questions, admiring my good condition and, of course, wondering, as I do, how I got here.

I’m in a nice planter, my family puts flowers around me and small children sit on me and want their pictures taken. Could it get any better for a retired cannon?

Still, the urge to go “boom” is in my DNA. I’m pretty sure it’s not going to happen. I’m happy in my home, perched above the May river, watching the river traffic and sometimes wishing I could just do a little boom, i.e. a “boomette” (if you will remember I have some French in me) when boats go by our dock too fast…just a little fun and a request to slow down. Bet there would be more than one surprised boater!

Oh, and I’ll bet you know what my favorite holiday is……three guesses….you got it.. The Fourth of July! How all that noise and those bright lights up in the sky bring it all back. And I hear singing with a line in it that reminds me of the old days…”bombs bursting in air.” Frankly, just between us, I saw too much of that in my earlier days and I didn’t like it very much even then. I’m in the perfect spot to watch all those fireworks shows but I m living in peace these days and very happy to do so. Wish everyone were like that. .I would not care to go back to “war” mode. Too much destruction and sadness.

So I’m a piece of history, sitting on a piece of property that is also historical. We do well together, respecting one another’s role in the story of Bluffton. I might not be as pretty as the house but I’ve been around a few more blocks than it has. We have stories to share and I’m a good listener. I’ve come a long way from “boom”, haven’t I?