the day of the three-leafed shamrock

at some point I am going to learn to tap into my psychic abilities and do something really impressive with them....like pirate the cure for cancer, find the path to world peace....and...of course...win the lottery

until then I suppose I will continue to have these "I told me so" moments/days/years....sigh

but I'll start with the good stuff

Rob flew down last Thursday night. at first I was worried because his plane was delayed in Charleston due to high winds in Atlanta (the few curses of living near a tiny airport...tiny planes) and missed his connection to Brunswick, so instead of counting on him being able to find Delta sponsored transportation from JAX to here at midnight, I opted for the surest solution, drove down and picked him up (aren't I sweet?)


Then our weekend proceeded as follows. Friday: me to work, Rob's interview #1, walk on the beach, shopping in Brunswick, Oysters at Coastal Kitchen, Thai dinner with Liv and Serge then to her dad's bar for a few brewskies, home, bed, Saturday: make breakfast and send Rob to interview #2, veg at the apt until he returns with great news of a good job offer, go for a drive, lunch of barbecue sandwiches at Beachcomber, browse around a shop or two, return home and watch a movie, get ready for dinner, have wine with my friends Graham and Adelaide who live at Marsh's Edge, have the most fantastic birthday dinner at Delaneys, go to a party at Robs future boss's house, hear a great band there, go to Village Pub for more drinks and dancing to live music, in late, crash, Sunday: Rob up early being domestic, washing clothes and dishes and trying to roust me from the covers, go to the pool for a few hours, swim a bit, have ameri-mex lunch at Bubbas across the street and then go for a ride to look for houses...that was when we found this:

which is where we'll be living as of April 1st :)

later we went and heard the band from saturday night play at Locos down the street. met more people, i saw some folks i knew. it was a good weekend. Monday morning he flew out of brunswick bright and early. Early enough for me to catch a nap before going into work.


So, in the midst of all the glee, it was Sunday that I started getting nervous. I'm the kind of person who starts to worry when things are going too well. I am the one who knows that statistically if I drive 115 miles to work and back every day on a major interstate through a major city that at some point I'm going to get into a car accident (so I moved to a tiny island where I live 5 miles from work...very nice).

Right. So I was nervous. Worried. Fretful. I went into work Monday morning and the first thing that happens is the business office/HR girl comes in a slaps a random drug screen on my desk. And I'm like, well I don't use drugs so whatever, but then I start to worry, what if they mix mine up with someone elses? what if it's a bad test and I'm positive for everything? what if what if what if. I regularly drive myself nuts with those bastard words.

Then it dawned on me. My birthday was this week. Something was bound to happen on my birthday. But my birthday came and went and was GOOD. damnit. I even told the executive director about my drug screen fears so all day he teased me that I was getting fired for a positive result. But no, my birthday, which was yesterday, was wonderful. I have some NICE people I work with. Everyone was so kind! Olivia even brought a cake when we met for lunch. Then we went out for cocktails and dinner at Ocean Lodge and trivia at Village Pub.

I gotta say, it was a good day.

So I should've known that my luck would run out. And what better time for that to happen than...well...St. Pattys Day. If this is the luck of the Irish, I'll take the rain.

The first thing I realize is that I paid my mortgage twice this month. Thats great for my principal, and not great for my bank account. The second stupid thing I do is come home mid-day, using the work car b/c I had to drop off a coworker at a home eval, and left MY car keys at the apartment, so when I left work at the end of the day, no car keys. But, as bigDaddymitch would say...lets go back to this right here. While at work I decide to look for a washer and dryer on craigslist b/c I dont want to pay to have mine moved from the Newnan house. I find a set close by for cheep! Call him, he's good, will meet me later at the house, owner is cool with them going in a little early...all is well. So when I discover my keys are MIA I borrowed a coworkers car, met the guy at the house and when it was time to pay up, I realized I had grabbed my savings account deposit book instead of my check book. Fudge. So, I say, follow me to the bank and if you have change I'll give you cash. Which is obviously fine with him. So off we go to the bank. I pull out of the drive, onto Ocean Blvd and make the right turn onto Frederica to go to Suntrust. A few hundred feet under my tires and I hear something slide off my roof and catch a glimpse of my CELL PHONE as it flits off the trunk and splashes in pieces on the road where there is 6 o'clock 55mph traffic in full swing. Defeated, I pull into Suntrust, give Rick his cash and dart back to the scene of the accident to pick up the remains of my phone, praying the sim card isn't demolished....but...but...theres no phone! No trace! Nowhere! as if someone saw it from the sidewalk and snatched it up! I drove back and forth 3 times and was stunned.

And now. Now I don't know if I can count today as the balancing of all that good stuff over the weekend and birthday, or if this is just the beginning of the end....sigh.

So if anyone is trying to reach me (haha. yea right. my phone rings three times a day and its always rob...oh wait, sorry Andy, since you read these, hello and thanks for calling me. You were the last one I talked to before my phone was the victim of a smash and grab! and it might be a few days before I can call you back, btw)...I'm not just being antisocial. Not this time, at least ;)

oh my. Look at the time. And I've chattered my fool head off.

so I will drift off to sleep hoping that today was the worst of it. It could've been even worse, I know, but I literally felt like I had a gray cloud following me around all day. Also i felt like I was possibly developing a case of the dismentias...hehe. And, well, me and dementia fears are aWHOLEnother story...

now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my brain to sweep (the cobwebs from, that is)

night night little blogosphere.

There's a town called Don't-You-Worry
on the banks of River Smile;
where the Cheer-Up and Be-Happy
bloom sweetly all the while

Where the Never-Crumble flower
blooms beside the fragrant Try
and the Ne'er-Give-Up and Patience
point their faces to the sky

In the Valley of Contentment
in the Province of I-Will
you will find this lovely city
at the foot of No-Fret Hill.

There are thoroughfares delightful
in this very charming town;
and on every hand are shade trees
named The-Very-Seldom-Frown

Rustic benches quite enticing
you'll find scattered here and there
and to each a vine is clinging
called The Frequent Earnest Prayer

Everybody there is happy
and is singing all the while
In this town of Don't-You-Worry
On the banks of River Smile

March could be darker. Catapult.

my evening began...oh, around 4:30 when I lost interested in directly "work related" activity (oh wait, that was on and off all day)....but mainly when I logged into CNN and read the article about the dog who survived euthanasia. aw.

anyway, i suppose it may have sent my mind in exploratory mode, because this is how my evening went

despite my raging 72hr stomach bug, i had a hankering for a glass of red wine. and i refuse to open any of the other bottles i have at my house because...well, they're too danged valuable and shall only be opened at a time when i can share them with others who will appreciate the event as much or more than i do....or i should say just plainly--with others--because i dont tend to hang out with snobs or wine critics. so it will always be enjoyed if i have anything to do with it.

(even if it were a dreadful bottle of wine, wouldn't we just open something else and enjoy that? and then years later say, "hey, do you remember that time we opened that $220 bottle of wine and it was TERRIBLE?...man we had so much fun that night!")

exactly...so

i went to the store and bought a bottle of pinot noir (my fav) which was also on sale at the local winndixie. drove home and tossed together a small meal of cous cous & pine nuts and sauteed garlic and spinach

sat down to assess my mail situation. bills and advertisements. pushed them aside to assess my web mail situation. bills and advertisements--not unusual....bills, bill reminders, bank balance alerts and PND updates that i never read....there are a rare few regular emailers i have kept contact with. i guess its how i've crafted my life up to this point. it seems every time i have an opportunity to liquidate and minimize, i do it to the full extent. i only half meant to. i guess. and since i did take on a major relocation last year i guess it's normal (in my world) for some social fallout (<--fallout being a word I decided to work into my normal vocabulary tonight)

there was a random facebook update in my inbox, so out of sheer morbid curiosity i clicked on it and logged into my homepage and thanks to a high school class mate i was barely ever involved with, i clicked on an asteroid "end of days" style YouTube link, that referred to some asteroid that would barely miss the earth, oh, 2029 or something and then cause some kind of earth destruction in 2030-something....i dont remember. but i did google "asteroid-earth collisions" and came up with "impact events" (dang good phrase for it) so i began to read about that on wikipedia. and you know how it goes when you start reading on wikipedia. all these interesting linked words are all over the place. so my "impact events" search lead to "nuclear explosions" which lead to "volcanic eruptions" which led to "natural disasters" which led to "wild fires" which made me musedly wonder why pollution isn't a natural disaster....and reminded me of the river in ohio that caught on fire, cuyahuga, so that was my next search, which led to a brief review of REM's latest album Collapse Into Now
and then i was reminded that last time i checked my iPod i didn't have all my REM on there, so I began fingering through the collection of cds I still have and pulling the ones i thought I was missing.

This also led me to again acknowledge one of the rem TAPES i have saved, over the years.

and...I have only three tapes now. They are as follows.  In order of receipt.

Single: Donna Lewis- I love you always forever (from first official boyfriend. ever) 1996
Soundtrack: Music from and inspired by the City of Angels Motion Picture 1998
Mix Tape: REM Live 1981 and Live 1986 (which I believe I was given sometime in 1999 or 2000 or later)

so, for nostalgias sake, i drug out my Panasonic XBS jambox....which my mother gave me for christmas or birthday sometime in junior high...and has a cd player and a 2 tape deck but no longer will record tape to tape....sigh

and now I am uploading the last of my REM to my computer, who's memory is almost full (because I've had this wonderful little laptop since 2004)....thinking....how did I not have Monster on here? duh. and thumbing through the album art, the lyrics, the titles--I can't help but smile...there are very specific memories all wrapped up in every song. and I wasn't even alive for some of them.

ok. upload complete. goodnight little island

Bloomers

 

Above is what used to be a very small and shriveled Aloe plant that I salvaged last summer from the "death rack" at Home Depot. I consider this a rather nice "thank you"....I've never had an aloe that bloomed before! And today I noticed that another little succulent I just got a few weeks ago has put out a bloom bud. Spring has sprung :) 

weird things that happen when you live in an apartment

Today, for the first time in my life, I was knowingly spied upon....by a little old lady.

I live in a second floor apt and my big living room windows give a glorious view of the parking lot and a few of the steps that lead up to the three dwelling levels, including the one I live on. So I was sitting at my computer checking my email this morning around 9:30 and had just opened all the windows because it is another day in paradise, and because the morning sun prevents anyone from easily seeing into my apartment at that time of day....I didn't really notice her until she paused on the steps. An elderly lady carrying a bag of groceries. She had stopped and was peering up, which is what I noticed out of the corner of my eye and just to the left of my laptop screen. Then she went on up the stairs, stopped and walked to the edge of the landing and STARED for probably a whole MINUTE. I mean, who the hell does that? I knew she couldn't see me very well (of course I wouldn't just have the windows wide open without having at some point inspected the view...so I knew this was a truth)...but she sure was trying. And I suddenly felt....guilty? What the heck was I doing that was so suspicious?...so suspicious that it warranted a minutes worth of blatant peering?

I ignored her and went on typing my email, clearly aware she was looking at me. And she eventually moved along to her apartment. I tried to listen to which one she went into so that one day if I met her in the parking lot or on the landing I can go out of my way to say "HI" to my nosey neighbor.

A little later as I left to meet Liv for breakfast I too paused on the stairs to take a gander at my windows....wondering what could be so interesting. I settled on the fact that she must have been very curious about the staghorn fern and rosemary plant I have sitting on the glass-top table at the window (where my laptop also lives)....my brain accepted so I let it go, plotting to blog about it later.

After breakfast/lunch I drove around looking for a house to rent when Rob moves here in April. Then I came home and walked over to the pool to get a little sun and read...sat there for an hour and a half and then headed back to the safety and seclusion of my little abode.

On the walk back to the apartment I agreed to try to blog at least every other day....that's my initial commitment. It may change to...oh...once a week....or, considering the lapse between last nights and the one prior to, every 6 months. Haha.

Happy gorgeous Sunday on St. Simons :) A very lovely day indeed.

THE MIST

Around 3:30 pm today I rode with Olivia to pick up my car--my honda (all 309k miles of her) who just received a new set of tires and new oil, and new wiper blades (Merry Christmas ole Betty)--in Brunswick (the mainland). On the drive home, as I drove over the causeway to St. Simons, I noticed what I was sure was smoke...lingering over the water and in the trees on the island. The closer I got to my home the more worried I became that something big was on fire....my apartment complex? (wait...I turned off the iron, the clothes had already stopped drying....the vacuum wouldn't just spontaneously combust would it?...oh God....did I renew my renters insurance this year?...and....Stella!)...I could already see my valiant launch into the flames to retrieve my feline.

The apartment was not on fire, much to my relief. And no sirens or lights flashing anywhere, no-one running in the direction of the action...hmmmh. oh well. So I dropped off a few things and went back out to zip over to the grocery...and in the minutes I had been inside the smoke had thickened, but now I could tell it wasn't smoke, it was fog...but not just fog, it was mist (Dad, forgive me for not knowing the difference right off, I know you are slapping a proverbial hand to your forehead, but at the moment I plead ignorance)....very heavy mist, fog, water vapor, whatever it is supposed to be called....blowing around like smoke and wetting my face as it brushed by.

I always get a little creeped out when the fog invades the island. I plot how I will bunker in my apartment and last out the creatures that are sure to emerge from the thick white cloud rolling off the ocean and terrorize this small island....I have plenty of rice and cous cous, and several jugs of water...and beer....and wine....I would be good. Also living on the second floor I would hopefully avoid the creatures who preferred to sniff out only the ground level humans...and just in case, I have a 3 pack of wasp and hornet spray (hey, it worked in the story...and it shoots 30 feet...)

So the above pic is a view from across one of the lakes...err..ponds... at work--the last time the mist came.

I realize no one probably reads this anymore. I dont even come here often. But I felt inclined to blog today because it's just me here, I'm so rarely on the island I have become somewhat of an antisocial save for my 2 or 3 closest friends here (who, sadly, have lives of their own) so when a weekend rolls around that I can stay kerput, there is usually at least one night that I enjoy all to myself.

Tonight I thought it was gonna be one of those....I am out of Netflix, and my computer isn't new enough to stream video and I still am antiCable so I have no tele reception. But I did receive an invite to go to Tam's temporarily kidless house for girl time and a few beers...

...dare I venture into the mist?

a codega would be nice

I'm reading again. Not sure if many know this, but when I read, I tend to take on some magical power from the author/writer and it has the same effects as an antidepressant on my mood and general self-image. But mainly, it makes me want to write. And it makes me LIVE in a novel, where everything I experience is something that, in my head, I write down in the imaginary memoir that I have been writing since I was...oh, I don't know...really really young.

But whenever I think of becoming one, I get this deep inner anxiety and decide to be okay for now with my inner, imaginary novella. And sometimes I blog.

So today I returned from Beaufort, SC. A few weeks ago I realized, very happily, that my family has LONG time friends only 1.5 hrs away. It's like I knew this but it wasn't floating on my present mind. I meant to go last weekend with Robert but complications prevented an enjoyable visit for us, so I swore to return, and did. I arrived in Okatie around 2pm on Saturday, was greeted warmly by Don and Helen, directed to settle into the guest cottage, was fed (Don's special greasy rice) and then promptly escorted to the dock to begin my reason for going: to learn the simple art of casting for shrimp.

Saturday night as my (thoroughly soiled) cotton skirt and tank top soaked in the sink upstairs, we enjoyed a wonderful dinner of rice, stewed tomatoes and zucchini, steamed sugar snap peas, hot bread and Portuguese "Green" wine.

I was staying in the guest house with Don's sister Marjorie...one of the most absolutely delightful women I have met to-date. She was staying in the master bed room downstairs and I chose the loft bedroom (up the 2.5ft wide staircase to the room-on-the-roof) over the two twins downstairs. Don and I went to cast a few more times after dinner, then I sat with them on their screened porch for a bit before retiring to the cottage to watch Law and Order with Marjie and her little dog Sarah.

Breakfast was set for 8am at Don and Helen's. Marj and I had a cup of coffee and talked on the porch about why her tomato plant had never blossomed before walking across the yard. After eating (shrimp and grits, sliced tomato, hot bread with butter and honey) Don and I boarded his golf cart once more, this time to explore his land where his fish pond, pine grove and 1948 ford tractor (that still runs) reside...and to pick blueberries at his daughters house. We were back by 10:15 and I decided to begin packing to head home. When I returned to throw my bags in the car I found several bags of fresh veggies, several pounds of frozen shrimp, more blueberries, a baby rosemary plant, a baby azalea and the coffee can of gardenias I had picked out in the woods as he was proving to me that the tractor DID still run.

And if you can't tell, I have concluded that this was a blissful, perfect weekend. There is nothing else that I wanted to do. I drove home on back roads through Jasper and Chatham County and didn't even mind when, around 12:30, my air conditioner quit working.

At 4:15 I decided to go to the pool. That was when my confidence was heavily challenged, but I'm glad I went. Yes, I'm a social worker, I can navigate almost ANY social scenario and I am NOT afraid of people....at least not when I'm working, shopping, eating or any other relatively purposeful activity....but going to the pool alone is terrifying, going RUNNING in public is terrifying. Yes I feel better for doing it, yes it's good for me, no I have no REAL reason to feel that way, but the truth is....in general, most people scare the living hell out of me (oh wait, is that a direct contradiction?). Anyway, I went to the pool, sat in the corner (in the shade b/c I'm still nursing a burn from LAST weekend) and plotted to get in the water after the snooty sorority sisters and their sperry-wearing wanna-be boyfriends had left...but ended up reading many many chapters, sweating out any water I drank today, doing a smidgen of people watching and then wrapping up in my sarong before navigating my way out of the pool area (all the while certain the three 'kids' in the pool were secretly looking at me and whispering "who the hell does she think she is, and WHAT is she wearing, and ohmygod look at that cellulite")

haha. I know no one really gives a hoot. and I had already inspected the other females at the pool and determined I was NOT older, uglier, frumpier or fatter than the majority of them...okay maybe frumpier (I mean, I did arrive wrapped in a sarong, wearing a long sleeved cotton blouse, ball cap and sunglasses...oh well)...so I am hopping in the shower and wearing something comfortable to go out for pizza with friends and thus will conclude my perfect weekend.

adios, ciao, a tout a leur, buenas noches...see you later little blog

dey - ja - vooooooo y'all

"I knowed it. I seen it comin...blew it right off the blocks"

(I still can't remember where the heck that quote came from but all I know is it makes me laugh..maybe SNL)

Like I said, I knew it would come. And I have been squarely hit by the spirit and am bearing witness to the power of clorox my friends.

So without further ado, I shall reference my clorox material. My history with the stuff. And my hopes that Stella and I will survive this one without any bathroom traumatics.

CLOROX

Now...back to the kitchen floor...my entire living room smells like the indoor pool of a Motel 8. I'm a cleanin machine.

Cheerio-

afterburn

for the last three days (actually I believe it may have been getting "worse" for a few weeks now) I have been addicted (I wish there was a better, more hungry-sounding word) to reading...but the last few days it's been at it's peak...reading anything I can get my hands on. Like a pregnant woman to ice cream and pickles. The ingredients in my face lotion, magazine articles about things I don't even care that much about, online news (and even some propaganda just for kicks)...but mostly a book. And now I've finished Lacuna and tonight I realized my home has not been caring for itself in my absence...sigh.

Stella has created a nest out of the slew of papers strewn in the corner of my living room. She has scratched them into a sloppy circle with a small space of carpet in the center, and there she stays all day. I come home for lunch and she's there...and she doesn't budge. Now, of course when it is TIME for me to be home for the night she meets me at the door and rolls over, waiting for me to find her "bunkie" and toss it into the bedroom for her to retrieve. Nevermind that she's a cat.

So this is what has happened to me in the grips of the latest Kingsolver--And I'm not sure the book was even that addicting. Good, no doubt (did seem a smidge weaker than her others, but still very good) but it became the simple act of reading that ended up consuming my afternoon today and kept me indoors when the temperature outside was perfect for going for a jog--The picture of my apartment in it's neglect and disarray. a salt shaker on my living room windowsill, bedroom pillow in the armchair, the half-unpacked suitcase from my WV trip LAST weekend sitting open and rummaged through outside my bathroom, no toilet paper, no dishwashing detergent (consequently not that many dishes needing to be washed as I haven't seemed to eat much here lately...a microwaved bowl of soup, reheated pasta, popcorn)...Roberts mother would be appalled, thank God I'm quarantined off from the rest of my life for the time being...anyone would be ashamed of such a state I'm in. I've been determined to clean for a week now...hasn't happened.

I'm sure I will go on a cleaning tear any day now. Maybe even any minute. It seems to always take me a week or so to regroup from going out of town. I should get better at it seeing as how I've been travelling so much lately, but then again maybe that's the reason...haven't been here long enough to regroup before I'm off again, leaving this resort island any chance I get to taste my old life or see familiar faces. Sounds pathetic I know...I should really dig in and live it up while I'm at the coast, but my word...for all it's tourism and social happenings, this place can get lonely.

When I closed the book -- I saved two chapters at the end and plotted not to read them so it was never over...an old habit of mine that hasn't showed up in years, (welcome back you strange little self defense mechanism) -- I went to my bookshelf to finger through and see if there was possibly one in there I hadn't read...stolen from my brother's collection or unburied from the dusty shelves of the SC house...nothing caught my eye. So I called my mother back, then called Rob back, then sat back in my arm chair...and decided to blog.

Now, a grocery list...perhaps if I purchase the cleaning supplies I will feel obligated to use them...ah...psychology...and I'm off to bed. Adios.

mush

Years ago my step-father confided in me as we were sitting on the deck looking at the stars and having drinks way past our bedtime, "Your mother is concerned that you'll never settle down, never be happy, with such high expectations. She thinks you will find fault in anyone and move on..."

(And after my second dog adoption she told me she believed I was surrounding myself with animals to "fill the void of a meaningful human relationship")

The truth is I saw too much fault in myself and still struggle with that, but less often...but that's another story all together. I had relationships, but she was right..."meaningful" wasn't in them.

So my mother wanted to know why...such picky wishful dreaming (there is probably a list of research supported ideas) but eventually I came to a point in life where I knew exactly what I wanted, as far fetched as it sounded to some...and I was getting tired of wasting my time pondering on one thing or another- props -I just wanted to be happy

"you just can't sing a depressing song when you're playing the banjo" - Steve Martin

Happy Birthday and Congrats, little brother

This is a belated blog to commemorate my little bros 26th birthday AND his being offered a job around the same time. Much celebration was had. And for the first time in a long while all the cousins were together and I believe I speak for us all when I say we were a very happy bunch. My family is the best.

spamburger hamburger

"jennifer jonhson" is getting on my nerves

she keeps sending me emails about auction processor positions and i can't make her stop!

c'mon gmail, learn the spam tags

speaking of head-hunters...of the sort

today while mailing a gift package and netflix, i was approached by a census taker guy. he told me i could make $13/hr working for the census after work and on the weekends. can i really pass that up? i mean, i live on a resort island...so it's not like i'll be traveling into the hood to get people to fill out their forms. i'm not even sure what the work entails, but i'm totally looking into it.....

then i found out his wife works for a company that my company contracts with. yet again another small world moment that happens nearly every waking hour since i've lived here. i'm telling you, by mid year i'm gonna know the entire population of st. simons island. i'm convinced.

well....it's been a while since i blogged and i missed this space, so this was the best i could come up with for now.

"you were there, and it was good in the beginning"

-peteyorn

cause life is short but sweet for certain....

Last Thursday was moving day. I took a half day at work and met the little bro (who graciously packed my house on Wednesday and drove the truck to the island...b/c he's the best).  Stefan and I hauled that truckload up into my (now smaller) dwelling space--and what will be my official home...at least until Jan 31st 2011--and there-began my nestling into a 1br/1ba condo on Barnes Plantation (no relation...however I can't deny the name may have been an unconscious selling point additional to being the nicest I saw)

Later that evening I met Robbie at the Jacksonville airport with two Fat Tire beers and enough time-worn affection to warrant an acknowledging nod from the security guard assigned the duty of shuffling parkers away from the pick-up curb. An hour drive back to my apt and the three of us successfully sought out a good dinner of oysters and shrimp at Catch 228 in Red Fern Village across from my place.

Location location location greets me again. There is nothing better than being less than 10 minutes from work and an even shorter walk to restaurants and shops on a cool south Georgia island.

Lots of unpacking and a few days of nursing a wheezy beaux later Rob and I meandered into town for some shopping and stopped at Coastal Kitchen for food and ale remedy on the porch....I might add we just happened to stay there a bit beyond happy hour after chumming up with the bartender and her bro who  happens to work at a local kayak rental place and promised to show us around next time Rob is in town....

...between a late lunch and early dinner we took a quick break to stroll down between the boats in the marina below the restaurant.

Then after a few more hours and a few peel-n-eat shrimp (and a few more brews) we found our way home (eventually, since Rob was driving and I wasn't giving very good directions.... "what? you dont know the island?")

Sooo! What a great weekend! And what a great start to a new life in a new place.

Heres my shout-out:
Many thanks to Mom, Wayne and Stefan for the moving efforts and more support than one girl could ever ask for. I have the best family. If I go into that any further I might tear up.
Thank you Rob for supporting and sharing this new part of my life with me.
Regards to all of my friends and fam (Nana, Jackie, Sheila, Suzie) who have been so encouraging while I was in search of a new job and a new home. You know who you are!
Many warm thanks to my adoring real estate agent and former neighbor Parks (the only man I've ever baked for!) and his lovely wife Judy (who sweetly visited me at work yesterday! what an awesome surprise!).

...and a not so common thank you to the mistakes I've made, the detours I've taken and the lessons I've learned thus far down this road I have come to call my own. I appreciate everyone who has stuck by me through those times as well-

I'm absolutely positive I would have never made it to where I am without these wonderful blessings in my life.

Prince

here's my newest two friends of the island...Prince and his Uncle Arnold out at the farm....and if I'm lucky I'll be mucking stalls in my spare time this spring/summer, soaking up the smell of hay and equines and shaping up the arms! With an added perk of working with this little Tennessee Walker...

Leaving town

There's something refreshing about moving to a new place. And sometimes it's a bit bittersweet...In my case the only bitter part is moving farther south and I am a little sad to leave my sweet neighbors Parks and Judy,  and Scott, Whitney and Harper...but I'm exceedingly happy to be leaving the town I have lived in for the last nearly four years. I haven't lived somewhere for this long since I moved to Georgia 10 years ago, and I believe the time to move on came and went several months ago...it's just taken me a minute to catch up.

So today I am packing the things I will need for my first week at work at a new job on St. Simon's Island. I will be the new Social Worker for Marsh's Edge, a beautiful retirement community on the northern corner of the island near the horse stables (<--for anyone who has ever been there you probably know where I'm talking about). At first I was a little reluctant to pursue another job in social services because the place I worked last was a 2yr nightmare...I try not to think about it too much, but it was a very bad experience that I know I'm still getting over. Nevertheless, I am hopeful that this will be a better company to work for and am thrilled to be finally living on the coast, where I have always wanted to reside for a while.

The only things in my house that I found myself packing more than a few of (as far as housewares go) were my coffee mugs. I'm not sure why I'm so attached to them, but I've been collecting handmade mugs for several years now and there are a few that I wouldn't feel right leaving behind, even temporarily. It might be silly to find comfort in material things, but each mug has a story that's close to my heart. There's the mug I was given as a housewarming present when I first moved to Newnan. It was from REI coworker Chip McCuiston who owns "The Signature Shop" with his wife Carr...a folk art gallery that always carries a wide selection of local art. The next mug is also from their shop, but was a Christmas gift from another good REI friend and coworker. Next up is the very 1st perfect coffee drinking mug I found at Mountain Made in West Virginia...stopping at that store happened to delay our leaving Thomas just long enough for the new-found Rob to get off work and ride with us to the airport, where we missed our flight due to slow snow traffic and had to spend the night in Pittsburgh.  Last but not least the mug I found just this fall while exploring a hidden art gallery in Boone, NC with good buddy Jess. We were on our way to the Wooly Worm Festival and traffic was so bad we detoured on a mountain road that had equally bad traffic, so we decided to take a break and peruse. She spotted them first, and found what became her perfect coffee mug...and I purchased it's sister mug because I thought it was a good mug too.

So that's my mug story!  Haha.  And here I close. After today I will no longer be a resident of Newnan, Georgia and am looking forward to a fresh start in a new town with the smell of salt in the air, palm trees and live oaks sagging their branches like big outstretched arms.

"You say goodbye, I say hello.  Hello hello."

what's that scritch scratchin

It seems that's every new year has a different twist to it....some years I can remember staying in bed as long as possible trying to will away the side effects of the last nights imbibery, some I've been solo and sober from dusk to dawn...last year was a mild headache, good food and hanging with fam for the weekend. This year I was up before everyone else (probably b/c I was in bed before everyone else too. oops!) and yesterday afternoon mom and I went trekking in the woods to explore for old homesteads on the land around their house (and found one!)...lots of old cotton plantations in that area. Very interesting indeed. Particularly watching mom climb over a barbed wire fence.

I debated all day yesterday on whether to leave for Newnan then or wait until today. And eventually I decided I needed to hit the road, so I left their house around 9pm. That put me home around 10, and I unloaded the car, searched for some paperwork I needed to mail today and plopped down at the computer to check email and whatnot.

About that time I heard a noise. Shuffling and bonking around somewhere in or around my house. And my house is small, so I only knew the noise was coming from the side I was on...plus it was windy outside so I thought it might be a tree branch on the siding.  But anyone who's ever had a critter in their house knows the unmistakable sound of...well, having a critter in your house. I crept into the kitchen to get a better idea of where it was coming from. Eased over to the kitchen door and waited to hear it again, but what I heard wasn't coming from outside, or even above me...it was scratching and scuttling around closer to...or perhaps even in...my oven? Well, I knew it couldn't actually be IN the oven, but it sure sounded like it was very very close to being in the oven. Then I heard a little clang and deducted it could be in the drawer under my oven. Now, I'm not an easily scared person when it comes to rodents so at first I was just a tad annoyed, but THEN I could hear it breathing. Yes! Breathing! Sniffing around like a doggie on the trail of something good....and quite frankly that's what it took to freak me out. Being after 11pm at that point I knew better than to think my neighbors would be up, or that they wouldn't panic if they got a call from me so late....so I sent a message to the only person I knew could help....too bad he lives 300+ miles away.

Instructions were to open the oven and let my cat do the work. Buuuuuut unfortunately my cat is also far away in South Carolina staying with her uncle Stefan until I'm settled into an apartment on the island. It is just little old me in the house for now, so that plan, while good, couldn't work. As the noises continued I began visualizing the Christmas tree scene from the Griswalds movie...me opening the oven drawer, squirrel leaping out and attacking my face...a fire starting somewhere...a toupee flying by...you know, carnage. I decided a non-confrontational approach was best, so the next set of instructions I got were to go into my bedroom, stuff a towel under the door and try to forget about it until morning. That sounded pretty darn good to me, so that's what I did. One towel, a dirty t-shirt and a moving box full of books were promptly used as a rodent barricade. I drifted off to sleep around 1am after flipping through the latest Coastal Living and a brief convo with RR while he corralled hound dogs at the house he's staying in for the weekend and settled in himself...thinking this is the only time in my life I'll wish I had his cat Almost in the same house as me.

This morning the sun was trying it's best to get through the closed curtains in my bedroom and I sunk further under the comforter...the house was chilly and quiet, no scampering, scuttling or scratching...and especially no heavy rodent breathing. I stretched out my feet to the bottom of the bed and in my grogginess thought I was pushing my foot up against my cat who usually sleeps on the bed with me. And after a few more seconds I remembered my cat wasn't here.

You know that feeling you get sometimes....that nasty insta-surge of adrenaline that's almost painful? Like when you're driving and it's been a little too long since you took a break from the pavement and your eyes do that crossing thing like you're about to dose off, then it scares you awake with that feeling; Or if you've ever almost been hit by another car...or if you almost lose your grip while bouldering...or if you hit an unexpected root on a really fast decent on a mtb trail...or if you almost trip and fall while walking in public.....OK....that was the feeling I got bright and early this morning that woke me directly from a very warm and comfortable dozing spell.  Then I was afraid to move...evidently whatever it was last night had gotten out of the oven, found my room, infiltrated my barricade and gotten up on the bed with me--and whatever it was, I had just nudged it with my foot...what if I woke it up? Surely after nearly kicking it, it was only a matter of time before I was attacked....

But the attack never came, thankfully. And eventually I gathered the nerve to peek out over the covers and discover the two magazines I had left at the foot of the bed the night before.

Ah...such is life.

Home of Hospitality

Spent a few days before Christmas in Charleston, WV. From across the Kanawha River Charleston sprawls along the valley line and up into the mountains like a modern folk art painting. Four or so inches of snow was still frozen on the ground when I arrived Monday evening but the temperatures while I visited were mild and in the upper 30s or 40s. Very nice.

This was my second 'adult' trip to West Virginia...my first being last November when a friend and I flew into PA and stayed in Thomas, WV...home of Mountain State Brewery and some very cool people. That trip was one of the best I can remember to date. I kept promising to visit again since that trip, and so a year and a month later, I made good on it. Explored a little in town while Rob was at work, fended off surprise attacks from his cat Almost and had the opportunity of meeting some of Rob's friends and the crew of KTM coworkers. Had a great time and hope to have the chance to visit again and explore some areas I didn't get to, perhaps even bring the Sur with for some mtb action.

Tomorrow is New Years Eve and I'll be heading a little farther south to the parent's for our annual NYE gala. Then Monday I begin a new beginning in a new town 5 hours even farther southeast...it's a good job, and it's on the coast, so I shall make the best of it. I'm thinking kayaking in the marsh channels will be a great new hobby of mine.

Happy 2010 all ye bloggers and passers by. I sure do hope it's a good one.

occasional benefits of hypochondria

i apparently burned the shit out of my tongue last wednesday and of course have been fretting over it for DAYS now b/c it hasn't healed up as quickly as i wanted. no doubt b/c i've been messing with it incessantly. so tonight i finally determined it had not turned into cancer (because if my tounge had to be cut out due to cancer, i'd rather just die...sorry). then went in to the bathroom for a final gander in the mirror and just as i was becoming satisfied that the burned spot was indeed better, i discovered the underside of my tongue looked weird....

this is what happened with that google fret-fest...


http://boingboing.net/2008/06/10/what-is-on-keiths-to.html

239 comments over a 7 month period. i was so impressed i almost created an account to comment. made me laugh a lot ( StudioRobot, brundlefly and grisly are favs....among others) AND I  feel better particularly since my tongue doesn't look like that.

my hypochondria may still be a smidge out of control at the moment tho

since i also got paranoid today after my PPD test (for TB) was administered...i thought i felt a strange soreness in the side of my neck and jaw. was convinced it meant i was probably positive for TB. walked around all afternoon thinking of how i would respond to the nurse when she looked under the bandaid to surely find a festering sore where the solution was injected..."sooo, does this mean i dont get the job?"

i'm kicking myself into bed now. before i come up with one more reason why i could die very soon

bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens

Home (or what is still "home" via mortgage) after a weekend in the mountains followed by a day at the beach...I seem to have traveled a lot in the last four days. Actually, there's no seeming about it. I've been in the car far longer than I'd like to be...but there are costs and benefits in everything, yes.

Friday found me driving to Hot Springs, NC to meet my WV comrade Rob at 'Hound Heaven,' a pet (and pocket) friendly cabin along the "dramatic climb" up Spring Mountain. Some of my few good friends and hiking buddies know how I feel about Hot Springs...so even after I had begrudgingly decided that a winter retreat with Rob before his hectic ski season began was just a little too impossible, he somehow managed to unknowingly find a place that no life crisis or rock slide could deter me from getting to.

There may be nothing blatantly special about Hot Springs. Certainly there's special stuff there, but there are countless camp sites along the French Broad River, I can soak in a natural hot spring right here in Georgia and there's plenty of teeny mountain towns that are within close(r) proximity to a grocery store or cell tower. What makes this place so compelling is difficult to explain but to me it just is. From the moment I first tumbled (quite literally, I might add) into this quaint little town almost 10 years ago I began to love it as if it held some magical hidden portal to another dimension where feeling and dreaming and living are impossible concepts to avoid...and maybe that's the best descriptive--or maybe it's just me--though Southern Living gave it a glowing nod in this November's issue.

Saturday morning we woke up to the stillness that comes with new snow. To my glee it flurried and peppered through our mid-morning breakfast and continued while we ventured down and about in town, dipping in and out of the less-than-a-handful of shops, finding super sale items in tucked away bins of the cozy outfitter store, trying to get the perfect picture from the bridge over the river and exploring nooks and crannies of the eversohumble neighborhood (which took about 45 seconds). We found new insoles for my shoes, strange voodoo dolls (craftily disguised as Christmas ornaments), uncommon wines and a favorite little cabin we both chattered about building for the duration of the drive back up into the mountainside...only interrupted by a discussion of how I would furnish a rocky crevice home if I were a small Faeiry creature and how to effectively heat it in the winter months... musings of mine that Rob always kindly humors and often graciously joins in on. We made a quick obligatory stop at a lookout for a few photos then hauled it up to the cabin, fully intent on taking the dogs for a long and rigorous hike--a hike that ended up being a not-so long or rigorous trek between the warm innards of our cabin and the warm innards of the hot tub on the deck...champagne and WV Melomel honey wine in tow.

That night we descended back into town for dinner at the bed and breakfast and post- dinner brews at Rock Bottom pub. This is a favorite activity of mine, not only because I enjoy drinking good beer (btw the Highland Gaelic Holiday Ale is superb), but because late night encounters in Hot Springs are one of the most entertaining parts of a visit there. After finding a few seats at the bar, Robbie's attention was snatched by Hank, a small old leprechaun-like man with frizzy reddish hair and beard, half a mouth of snaggle-teeth and lots of talk about life and hard labor. I caught up on the last few years of town happenings with our bartender, Brenda, who also shared with me her own family history, her two childrens accomplishments, and exactly what "stocking up" means when you live in a valley-town 20miles, 40mins and a hundred hair-pin turns from the closest grocery store. Rob and I sneakily loaded up the excessively modern electronic jukebox with Waylon, Merle and a choice few others and then were invited to a doubles game of pool with an older local who I called 'Chief' and a much younger 'Davis' who was in town staying with his uncle (and who was a little too into Widespread Panic). We left with full bellies, a night of laughter and the knowledge that we would most likely never see this selection of people again, regardless of when we returned.

Sunday morning we slept in and then began the task of packing up and leaving what had been an irreplaceable weekend getaway. We loaded up the cars just as the bells were ringing from the church across the meadow from our cabin. Missed breakfast-time in town and conceded to lunch at the diner where we laughed about our weekend, eyeballed my road atlas and the miles btw us, got the scoop from the locals on what time the Christmas parade was starting (aka, when to git while the git'n was good) and talked about the next time we might meet...when the waitress took our plates I assumed the frowny "don't wanna leave" face and Rob followed with "oh lord I know, we go through this every time"...and shortly thereafter we parted ways. He began the climb into hill country and I began the long swoop down through Blue Ridge, Saluda and Green River Gorge, stopping briefly for soup and conversation with the brother before heading home to Georgia.

Yesterday morning bright and early mom and I drove 5 hours southeast to St. Simon's Island where I had an interview. Along the way we completed two Sunday crosswords and discussed our favorite items in the L.L.Bean Christmas catalog. After my interview we grabbed a fireside dinner at Crabdaddy's (highly recommend it) and hit I-95 North to again head homeward. The ride back we were too tired for crosswords so we discussed school, family, how glad we were to have left SC when we did, relationships, flannel-lined corduroys, good books and the meaning of life.

I climbed in bed, appropriately delirious, around 1:30am only to toss and turn with strange and disruptive dreams of floods and annoying neighbors (though i live no where near a flood zone and my real-life neighbors are fabulous). Woke up this morning long before I wanted to and have been plodding around the house ever since... unpacking, shuffling things around without really putting them away, wondering if I should call my real estate agent and postpone our meeting until tomorrow, coddling my socially anxious cat, Stella...and, well, blogging.

And once again here I close my (apparently) monthly blog to cyberspace. Until next time.