My problems continue to pile up.

At the end of my last column, my father was in the hospital and my mother had fallen and injured herself and was therefore staying with my sister, Rhonda, for a few days.

I am a terrible doctor. But my father is a far worse patient. I honestly feel sorry for the folks who had to deal with him after he started to feel better.

It does not take B.F. Robinson long to decide he should be going home. Plans were for him to stay until Friday, but for his sake — or that of the hospital staff — he was released Thursday.

He came home, then my mother came home. We were just one big, not yet healthy family. Then Monday I was set to deliver newspapers early due to the July 4 holiday. When I got into my car and headed toward Pickens, I notice the engine was not running well.

That would have happened to America if we’d lost the revolution? Some of our Founding Fathers would have been tried and convicted of treason, and those who fought against the British if not executed could have been imprisoned.

According to history as seen from the viewpoint of Great Britain, the colonists were considered ungrateful. England had spent long years and lots of money winning the territory from France. They needed the colonies as a source of raw materials for their manufactures. America exported raw materials to England, while England produced the goods and then sold the finished product to the colonists.

The colonists did own guns, but had

We went to Cherry Grove beach in June uncertain of what to expect since the use of canopies has been banned. After visiting the website, we found we could use beach umbrellas up to nine feet wide instead, so we bought one for each person as a start.

Fowler and Buddy welded a handle to a two-inch metal auger to allow us to sink the umbrellas deep enough into the sand to prevent them being blown away.

The first day there we saw some interesting sights on the beach. No, there were no canopies. But in place of one 12-by-12-foot canopy per family, there were now four to six umbrellas put together in clusters to shade entire families.

As the new ordinance says nothing about any distance between umbrellas, this was perfectly legal and lifeguards and beach control could say nothing about it.

Now, we were told the reason for banning canopies was because they interfered with the ability of lifeguards and beach patrol to reach people in trouble.

However, it seems they could simply add canopies to the area behind the lifeguard stand and solve the problem.

Any time there was wind, numerous umbrellas — including two of our own — were pulled out of the sand and turned into projectiles endangering those on the beach.

A number of umbrellas were turned inside out and broken. Many people had to leave the beach because they brought babies and small children with them. Others who wanted to protect themselves from the dangers of skin cancer also had to leave.

The uprooted umbrellas were not blown away because they weren’t firmly in the sand. They were blown away because tie-offs are forbidden and there’s no way to anchor them to the beach.

A sign put up by the city informs visitors that if they arrive without beach umbrellas, rental umbrellas are available from the city. Aha!

That sounds to me as though this whole fiasco is just another way to raise revenue.

Last year our family invested in a new canopy to replace our old one. It was a quality product and a little expensive. But we thought it a good investment, as we planned to use it in years to come.

This year we invested in six beach umbrellas, an additional expense. They together cost as much as last year’s canopy. The difference between the canopy and the six umbrellas is that the umbrellas can’t be secured, while the canopy can. The canopy has four supporting poles, and the umbrellas have six. Both have to be removed from the beach at the end of the day.

So now, Fowler has taken one of the undamaged umbrellas and modified it to attach to the F-150 tractor. It keeps him completely in the shade while plowing. We haven’t figured out what to do with the others yet, but are sure we can find a use for them.

Meanwhile, we’ve decided to cross South Carolina beaches off our list. Next year we will go across the state line to North Carolina and visit Sunset or Holden or Ocean Isle, where our canopy is allowed.

We are the fourth generation of our family who made North Myrtle Beach a vacation destination, but that tradition is sadly at an end.

Maybe we were stuck in a rut and needed a jolt to become more flexible. So now, our fifth generation of beach-goers will continue the tradition, just at another beach.

What a miserable weekend.

Saturday my father was not feeling very good, because somehow his blood pressure was low. That’s pretty much contrary to family history. We generally have problems with high blood pressure.

He sat and complained about his health for a while. Finally my niece, Jessica, who now has a doctorate degree in pharmacy stuff, said we needed to take him to the hospital to be checked out. So my sister, Rhonda, her daughter, Rebecca, and my mother took him to the emergency room Saturday night. I, being ignorant, stayed at home, out of everybody’s way. You can look at me and know I know little about healthcare.

Eventually they admitted my father to the hospital, and my mother spent the night

On The Way

By Olivia Fowler

When we have an especially hot summer day, my thoughts turn to the river, because that’s where I want to be.

Olivia Fowler

One of the reasons I love the Twelve Mile River is how it calls to my heart. Floating down Twelve Mile takes me straight back to childhood, when my brother and cousins and I spent countless hours immersed in the icy waters of the Lumber River.

That river is where I learned to swim. Uncle Walter had a unique teaching method. His swimming school only held one class. If you passed you were certified to swim upstream against the current. If you flunked, you were in danger of drowning.

The first and only lesson given could be titled the “sink or swim” class.

The victim, or student, depending on your viewpoint, usually enrolled in Uncle

On The Way

By Olivia Fowler

Now that the class of 2014 has exited the building we will see how they adjust to their new world. I always feel compassion for these young people as they enter the adult world. Many of the achievements of high school are not especially valued outside.

Olivia Fowler

For good high school athletes who excelled in sports but didn’t get athletic scholarships they will learn, perhaps for the first time, that their athletic records will not advance them in the outside world. For those who have grown used to accolades and admiration it can be very tough to learn that outside the world of high school they will not be given a free pass if they don’t produce in other areas.

On the plus side however they’ve learned many valuable lessons about leadership, loyalty, teamwork, sportsmanship, initiative and persistence. They also learn many

Tax increase unnecessary

Dear Editor,

You’ve heard the saying, “revenue is not the problem, spending is the problem.”

Facts from the S.C. Comptroller support that saying and are evidence we should study issues and vote wisely June 10. S.C. general fund revenues increased from around $5 billion in 2004 to about $7 billion in 2014. During the same period, the entire budget, which includes fees and other sources of income, grew from $15 billion to around $26 billion; more than $1 billion average annual growth in state

On The Way

By Olivia Fowler

Olivia Fowler

We don’t need television. We have our animals. The same could be said of them, as I’m sure we provide as much entertainment for them as they do for us.

Sunday afternoon provided just such a situation.

Rosa and her baby goats (kids) have been occupying our backyard, which has displaced two of the rat terriers. Kewpie and Diablo have temporarily relocated to the front porch.

However, now that the babies are here and doing well, Fowler said we could move them back into the former bird dog pen, now the temporary goat pen.

And so, late Sunday afternoon after he and Buddy returned from their horseback riding expedition, they decided it would be a good time to move our goat family. A storm was predicted, and we all thought they needed more shelter than that offered by the deck, especially if it should hail.

So Fowler and Buddy went into the backyard, keeping all the dogs at bay, as they’re just a little too interested in the goats, with plans to move the babies and Rosa.

But the babies were nowhere to be found. Buddy was afraid a hawk might have snatched them up, as they’re no bigger than the average cat.

So we’d all looked everywhere we could think of when Buddy found them hidden away in the center of a clump of pompas grass. I suppose Rosa thought we looked suspicious and hid her offspring there to protect them from potential predators.

Fowler went and got the rope as he planned to lasso Rosa. All the dogs followed him. They knew something important was about to happen. Rosa, unfortunately, had other plans. She warily looked out at us from beneath the deck and stood between us and her babies.

An attempt was made to lure her out, but she ignored it. She acted as though she’d never seen any of us before and completely disregarded the fact that earlier in the day she had eaten honeysuckle vine from Fowler’s hand.

So they decided to catch her by other means. One would go under the deck while the other would grab Rosa as she ran out. The dogs had their faces pressed against the fence, ready to go into action. They knew more than we did.

Goats are not described as nimble-footed for nothing. Rosa can run like a greyhound and jump like an antelope. She can weave in and out like a downhill skier. She can circle the perimeter of the backyard three times in the time it takes a human to come out from underneath the deck.

She is obviously training for the Olympics.

Every time she circled the yard the dogs ran with her on the outside of the fence. She eyed them, warily bleating in protest. The dogs were also very vocal, assuring Fowler that if he would only let them inside the fence they’d make short work of Rosa and her family. It was chaos, and it was not controlled.

Finally it was decided that subterfuge was needed. Surely, we thought, if we couldn’t outrun Rosa we could possibly outwit her.

The babies were removed from their nest in the pompas grass and delivered into my care. Dolly, the tiny nanny, settled down after a few bleats and stretched out in my lap to be petted. Buster, the little billy, was a different matter and bleated frantically while struggling to escape. He had to be restrained.

Rosa became frantic. She would approach the babies but would not come close enough for capture. Numerous attempts to lasso her failed. Numerous attempts to grab her horns as she darted past also failed. After about an hour of this fruitless pastime we were worn out and exasperated. Finally, I released her children from captivity, and they rushed toward their mother. While she was distractedly checking them out, Buddy managed to sneak up and bull dog her. He held tightly to her horns while she had a goat fit.

Then they dragged her down to the goat pen while the children were carried down more peacefully.

Buddy said he had to go home, although he was invited to help catch any other animal on Fowler Farm that took his fancy. He said he would decline that invitation but would perhaps take it up another day.

Fowler transferred all the feed and water containers and then let the terriers back into their domain. They gave us superior looks as though to say, “You idiots. You could have avoided all this if you’d just let us help.”

Fowler says in four months when the babies are weaned we will sell the entire kit and caboodle. I believe this is a wise decision, as if we kept them we wouldn’t have time to do anything else, and we do have lives to live. Meanwhile, we’ll wait it out. How long can four months be?

The on-time graduation rate in our school district has risen 4 percentage points the past four years to 76.8 percent. Our district is doing better than most, and I think we’ll reach our goal of 80 percent. However, the overall approach throughout the state will not yield the result that’s needed — 90 percent or more.

This statewide issue is not fully understood. Only 67 percent of eighth graders in S.C. are at or above grade level in mathematics, and 70 percent are at or above grade level in English. It is not surprising so many students then fail to amass the required 24 high school credits to graduate on time, if at all.

I don’t think the problem is an academic one, though. For years now, I’ve believed the low graduation rate has its roots in the breakdown of the family, and the social, psychological and behavioral issues that spawn from that.

An elementary student not reading at grade level, likely that’s due to his parents not reading with him at home. That has to do with relationship at home — a social issue. Not an academic one at the school.

I recently spoke with students who had dropped out and later enrolled in a GED program. I asked, why

On The Way

By Olivia Fowler

Olivia Fowler

Today was a spectacular day. Rosa, our goat, has been spending time in the backyard grazing, as she is an expectant mother and needs the extra nutrition. She has a collar, and each morning she is led from the goat pen to the fenced-in backyard, where she is staked out. She has a bucket of fresh water and access to shade.

Rosa doesn’t bleat unless she has something specific to say. I was in the kitchen and heard her calling, so I stepped out the backdoor and saw she had wound her chain around the stake and couldn’t reach her water or the shade.

So, I went out and untangled her and led her down beneath the oak tree. She had turned over her water bucket, so I refilled it and carried it to her.

She was panting, and I assumed she was too hot.

Fowler was pounding stakes in the tomato rows when I looked out again to check on Rosa. She was calling out. There in the