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.

"like twilights to her dusky hair"

...that was the subject line of the first message in my gmail "spam" folder this morning

i just had to share it with someone...

life

you just can't make this shit up

old meanderings

THE PACK-AND-SHIP BUSINESS WITH
TOM JONES
AND HIS GIRLFRIENDS OF FLIRT
AT FOUR DIFFERENT STOPS
EACH MAKING GIFTS AT EASTER OR CHRISTMAS
AT A DISCOUNT FOR HIS WIFE

HE'D SKIP LUNCH TO COLLECT TIME
THEN STAND ELBOWING A BOX
WHILE I COUNTED THE CASH DRAWER AND HE
TALKED ABOUT THE WORLD BIZARRE AT 20 AND
OF HOW THINGS WERE DIFFERENT BACK WHEN
THEN I WAS FOUR AND HE WAS....
BUT DRINKING AGES WERE LOWER ANYWAY

HE LEARNED WHEN WE SAY 'GOOD MORNING' WE SHOULD
MEAN IT, YOU KNOW--NOT LIKE HOW
HOT APPLE CIDER IS WARM AND TASTES FINE
BUT GROWS COLD, STALE

AND I LEARNED THAT RING BOXES CAN SOMETIMES HOLD
NOT THEIR INTENDED CONTENT, BUT MORE OF WHAT WE'RE
CONTENT INTENDING

HE SAID HE THOUGHT I'D BE JUST FINE
WHEN I FINALLY RESIGNED ON THE 15TH OF WINTER
AND HE CHANGED HIS ROUTE TO ELSEWHERE-
ONLY ONE WOULD LET HIM ELBOW BOXES DURING
OPEN HOURS
AND WE SEEMED TO HAVE CLOSED
AS QUIETLY AS AN EARLY SUNDAY MORNING
BUT WHEN I'M IN TOWN I STILL KEEP AN EYE
FOR AN SUV TAG READING
"MY OTHER CAR IS A BIG BROWN TRUCK"

R.L.BARNES 2002

observations in a bachelors bathroom

Visiting South Carolina almost always begins with a bang. Usually peeters out after about 72 hrs with is also my tolerance limit for being up here. I left Newnan yesterday around noon and had a pretty good drive up (even though somehow SC is hotter AND more humid than GA at the moment). When I arrived at our SC house my brothers car was there but the house was on lock down, so I figured he was undoubtedly out working the land somewhere in our 74acres of woodage. While tying out the doggies I heard the sound of a tractor coming up by our fathers old workshop...so I had been correct about where and what Stefan was up to (well, actually I never found out what he was up to, but he detached a scraper so I'm guessing he was out scraping something...?). I walked out to my old horse barn where he was and stood in front of the stable until he noticed me (he was wearing earplugs so between them and the engine noise I didn't bother yelling)...then I learned out to drive a tractor...weeeeeeeee!!!

So, not to stray from the usual day-one festivities I accepted an invite to attend a pre-wedding-party-party (I know...) with my aunt. The wedding will most likely be ridiculously lavish as the mother of the groom spends her free time hosting weddings in and around her gorgeous plantation home in Duncan, SC....so she's well-read in the wedding industry. Not to mention who in the world (other than a Newnan couple I've recently met) has so many pre-rehearsal party parties?? Okay. Anyway, Sheila and I attended a very nice little soiree in the downtown Greer area and then tore ourselves away after a few hours of tidbits, wine and lots of chatter, to have real food and drink a few doors down at BIN112...another nice little nook.

Once back at Sheilas I plopped on the couch and decided I'd probably just stay the night at their house since I'd consumed a modest amount of awesome alcoholic bevs and had a full belly to boot. Made a semi-buzzed dial to WV Rob and talked with him for entirely too long (per Sheila) about fleas...but, well, we're both having problems with them! so we were venting..."AHY KNOOOOOW! I can't get rid of them EITHER!!!"...

This morning I woke up pretty early (after sharing the bed with their greatdane/pitbull pup Mackie) and meandered into the kitchen to see who was up. No one was in the kitchen so I decided to go check out my post-festivities face and chicken-hair. In my cousins bathroom I found what prompted me to blog this morning. And I haven't been on here in a while so it's probably about darn time.

Washing my hands I begin to observe the scatterings on my cousins sink counter. To my right there are four different kinds of toothpaste (?), a pair of toenail clippers, deoderant and a few other "normal" bathroom accessories. To my left is where it got interesting. One camoflague walkie talkie (on it's charger), one metal protractor, one medium-sized rubber mallet, one pair of electric clippers, a small note pad, a ziploc baggie with kleenex and gauze pads inside, an electric toothbrush (unplugged but in the charging receptacle), 3 different phone chargers, a hand/knife-sharpened pencil nubbin, baby powder and a bottle of rubbing alcohol....fun huh?

Then I meandered back into the living room, let their four dogs outside, sat down in the Florida room to type this blog, let the four dogs back inside, checked my bank account (yessss, there WAS one last paycheck), paid a few bills and am now going to adios the blog and head for the coffee pot. Wondering what day-two will bring...

tootle-oo little blog :)

recovery, day 12

even though i have avoided semi-public announcement of my current situation, i felt inclined to blog this morning, and so this is the only large event that has occurred as of late.

ok. to begin at the beginning.
august 1st found me sprawled on a riverbank after having falling from the top, and landing quite heavily on a jutting root and a few rocks near the water. the first thing that crossed my mind after landing was, "damn i landed on my back, am i paralyzed," and while the pain was enough to make one hesitant to move, my second thought after assuring myself i had landed just to the left of my spine, "is anything broken." Finishing the hike was torturous but the dogs had fun. and for the next two or three days i hobbled around convinced i had fractured my pelvis. the pain was incredible. fortunately i had a good friend fly in the very same day of the accident, and he was there when it happened (equally horrified by my calamity) so graciously, although my guest, he probably served more as my asssistant until he flew out the following tuesday.

he had driven us everywhere since the accident, so tuesday he got us to the airport and i drove home and strait to the doctors office at st. francis hospital to get it all checked out. hours of waiting later i crawled onto an xray table and turned in all the painful positions the radiologist asked me to, even returning at his request to have more exams (god nows how many different kinds of "rays" went through my abdomen) to rule out spinal damage. only to find out later that my doctor was out of town and wouldn't read the results until wednesday. that was a bit disappointing to say the least. so i got my excuse from work for that day and drove home, moaning all the way, to wait.

once home i realized getting out of the car was nearly impossible. getting up the hill to my front door even more daunting, and once in the house i had no idea what to do. sitting down was painful so i hobbled around in the kitchen fidgeting with the mail that had accumulated on the counter. at this point it was around 6pm. the continuing tragedy began around 6:30 when i dropped a bill on the floor, accidentally of course, and kneeled--ever so carefully--to retrieve it. what can only be explained as the feeling of being hit with a cattle prod landed me in the floor in less than a second, and there i stayed for a few minutes, completely frustrated with my situation, and quite depressed from then 4 days of untreated severe back pain. all i could do was bawl and call my mom.

an hour later mom picked me up and we drove to newnan piedmont emergency room. at that point the pain drew tears immediately so i'm sure i looked like a mess. surprisingly they got me into a room after about 45minutes of waiting in triage. then went through the same routine of getting on an exam bed, telling the doc where it hurt, and heading for the xray room. but this time i had a little more care. kim, the radiology nurse, was fantastic. she wouldn't let me do a thing for myself, which i was thankful for. getting on the xray table was excrutiating, then turning ONTO my hurt side was as you can imagine, quite bad. so once that was over i finally got the answer that nothing was broken.

while i was relieved to not have 6-8 weeks of recovery and possible surgery ahead of me, i was overwhelmed with the disappointment of still not KNOWING what was causing the pain. the ER doc diagnosed me with contusion and severe lower back strain, gave me some heavy pain medication and told me to stay out of work for a week and follow up with an ortho as soon as i could if the pain didn't subside within a few days. being that the pain hadn't subsided in the 4 days since the accident, i was the slightest bit unenthusiastic of the notion it would miraculously remedy in two or three more, nor was i satisfied with the diagnosis.

fortunately as the days passed and with assistance from the pain medication i was able to do a little bit more with a little less pain. i saw the orthopedic doctor on monday who diagnosed a deep bone and muscle bruise of my left pelvis and left lower ribs. he prescribed an anti-inflammatory and was glad i had taken the pain meds and muscle relaxers sparingly (that stuff will knock you out for a day or more, not good) and then yesterday--11 days after the accident--i drove my manual honda for the first time with only moderate discomfort. granted i only went down the street and back, but it was a step in the direction of healing that i'm glad of. being home-bound for almost two weeks has been difficult. but going to work before i'm a little more put-together would naturally be impossible, so here i am. day 12 of what will most likely be a month or two of slow but sure recovery. the pain in my back is now more isolated to the hip area and what used to be occasional severely sharp pains has evolved into a constant ache, like having a migraine headache in my back....of course not pleasing and keeps me up at night more often, but i think it's a sign of healing. i plan to return to work monday, and see how it goes from there.

And as i close this novella--here's my shout-out. my sincere appreciation to Robbie and Mom, who carried the bulk of the weight of my injuries, the Newnan ER team, my dogs Maggie and Basil who have been very patient with my inability to take them for walks, my boss and coworkers Sarah, Melanie, Tonya, Jenny and Henry who have been very understanding or have checked in on me from time to time (despite my antisocial tendencies), and to dear Amy and the hilarious "ladies club" (as i call them) of newnan who took me under-wing and hauled my crippled butt out a few times so my cabin fever wasn't quite so bad over the past two weeks. Thanks. I mean it.

The End!

When life gets you down, look to the tao of pooh-

Many thanks to the person who emailed me this. Hopefully it'll make someone else chuckle a little too.