Month: October 2020

Helen and Home

Studly Doright and I took a couple of days and drove north through Georgia. We’d planned on going to Dillard, but at the last moment decided to stop in Helen instead.

Helen, GA

“Nestled in the hills of northeast Georgia, lies the German Alpine city of Helen. … The city leaders decided to resurrect their community as a Bavarian alpine town, which became mandated through a change in zoning. Beginning in 1969, Helen adopted a classic south-German style, that today is present on most buildings.”—wanderingtrader.com

Helen is a charming tourist destination with plenty of good restaurants and drinking establishments. There’s a water park and an alpine coaster, carriage rides and lots of little shops. Studly and I walked a bazillion miles exploring the town before checking into a cabin on the banks of the Chattahoochie River. Then we walked a bazillion miles more.

Studly tried on a Peaky Blinders style hat. He wouldn’t buy it even though I thought he looked quite handsome.
The view from our cabin.
My lovely mother-in-law’s name is Helen. We sent her this photo.
Who are those masked folks?
The Chattahoochie gurgles along merrily through the downtown area.

We’d still planned on driving to Dillard to stay Thursday night and drive home on Friday, but the cat sitter related that our new kitty, Gracie, hadn’t made an appearance during his last two visits. We became worried, and returned home on Thursday.

The minute I walked through the door and called her name, Gracie came running, meowing and needing to be held. She’s barely left my side since we got home.

We’ll have other opportunities to visit Dillard, Georgia. Our kitty needed us more right now.

Peace, people!

Drinking Wine from a Paper Cup

I’m in a hotel room somewhere in Georgia. I believe the town is named Milledgeville. Why am I in Milledgeville? Because Studly Doright came home from work this afternoon and said, “Let’s go somewhere that’s not here,” so I called a pet sitter to watch over Gracie and we got into our car and drove north for five hours or so.

COVID messed with all of our vacation plans this year, so Studly had several days he needed to take off before the end of 2020. Hence, the road trip.

Tomorrow we’ll push further north to Dillard, Georgia. He visited there last year on a motorcycle trip with our now deceased, and much loved friend, Jim, and it’s held a special place in his heart ever since.

I packed in a hurry, so there is no telling what essentials I left behind. I packed the wine, though. I never forget the wine.

Peace, people!

Buzzkill

Yesterday I was feeling pretty high after I voted. Happy, happy, happy, and optimistic.

I’d worn blue from top to bottom (even my undies were blue) and once I had that “I Voted” sticker I decided to run some errands.

I was in the checkout line at Walmart, keeping a nice social distance from the folks in front of me when I sensed someone standing right behind me. I moved up a couple of steps. They followed. Finally I turned around and said, “You go in front of me. I feel uncomfortable with you standing so close.”

Then I realized this woman, about my age, didn’t have on a mask. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but sometimes it operates independently of my brain.

“Good grief. You don’t even have on a mask. What is wrong with you?”

“Oh, maybe I have one in my pocket,” she smirked. She actually smirked.

Before I could do anything more stupid, I walked away and miraculously found a register that had just opened. Karma?

The whole thing brought my mood down for a second or two, but dang. What’s up with some people?!

Trying to remember: Peace, people.

A Vote for Joe

I wore blue to vote blue.

Right down to my shoes.

I stood in a line. It was the first time voting at this location when I’ve had to wait. I exchanged eye smiles with others in line. We talked of hope. We are daring to hope.

Peace, and hope, people!

Tomorrow, I Vote

For nearly four years I’ve watched Donald J. Trump tromp on our freedoms, embarrass us in front of world leaders, and make a mockery of the democratic process. I’ve listened to him tell one outrageous lie after another—over 20,000 of them, the last I heard.

He’s made me cringe. Caused countless sleepless nights. He’s left me feeling helpless and hopeless, wondering if our country can survive his ignorance, his hateful rhetoric, his self-serving agenda.

With the exception of, perhaps, Andrew Jackson, this country has never had such an ill-prepared, uncouth, morally bankrupt person in the Oval Office. May we never have another.

So, tomorrow, October 19, 2020, I vote. For decency. For experience. For a return to civility. Tomorrow I vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

Peace, people.

Indiana Jones and the Restless Cat

Indiana Jones keeps watch over me every night.

He sits on my bookcase/nightstand, prepared to take on whatever evil comes my way. Except for snakes. He hates snakes.

Last night, though, Indy met a foe for which he was not prepared—a restless cat. I heard Gracie as she investigated the objects on the nightstand. Apparently she didn’t think it was time to go to bed, so first she knocked around an ink pen until it tumbled to the floor, then she tried to squeeze behind the books, causing them to tumble like dominoes.

After I straightened and reinforced the books, I noticed that Indy was in a perilous predicament—heels over head above a cavernous chasm!

How will our hero survive this situation?

It’s not looking good.

Peace, people!

The Grunting Cat

Our new kitty, Gracie, is a grunter. When she jumps from pillar to post (which she does regularly) she emits a guttural grunt that sounds very much like a dog’s bark.

I’ve tried catching the sound on my phone, but she won’t grunt on cue. The closest approximation I can find is of Monica Seles at the height of her career.

https://youtu.be/iCstpe3OOaw

Maybe Gracie is a tennis prodigy. She does have a wicked backhand.

Peace, people!

Peaky Blinders

When Studly Doright and I finished watching the series, “Dexter,” we were conflicted about what to watch next. I was rooting for “Weeds “ while Studly really wanted to watch “Peaky Blinders.” Since I’d chosen “Dexter” I gave in to him this go around.

Now, we’re seven episodes in, and if I could understand all of the dialogue I believe I’d really like “Peaky Blinders.” Even so, I comprehend well enough to keep watching.

Set in Birmingham, England, in 1919, the series centers on the Shelby family, and their gang, for which the series is named. I won’t reveal why the gang has such an odd name; that’s something one has to see to believe.

Thomas Shelby, the protagonist, is seriously flawed. He’s struggling with PTSD from his service in World War I; although, they didn’t call it that back then. He’s cruel and ruthless, and somehow we find ourselves rooting for him against our better judgement. Played beautifully by Cillian Murphy, one wants to alternately kiss him or knock some sense into him. Maybe that’s just my reaction. He is rather delicious.

His love interest, the barmaid, Grace Burgess, played by the stunning Annabelle Wallis, is a match for Thomas in every way. She’s not who he thinks she is, and that could cost him everything.

Perhaps my favorite character is the matriarch of the Shelby family played by Helen McCrory. She’s tough as nails and you don’t want to mess with her family.

As much as I hate to admit it, Studly chose a great series. If I could just get him to let me use closed captioning, it might be my favorite series so far.

Peace, people!

Crazy Gracie

Our new cat, Gracie, all but ignores her name. When I call her she flicks those outsized ears then turns her head away, determined not to answer to this construct of human language.

Studly Doright calls her Pretty Girl. She doesn’t answer to that either. After watching her make thirty-nine non-stop trips around the island in our kitchen, I began referring to her as Crazy Gracie. Still no reaction.

Crazy Gracie fits, doesn’t it?

I wonder if she has a name she likes better? She meows conversationally all the time. Maybe she’s trying to tell me her real name.

Oh, occasionally she makes a sound that sounds very much like a bark. Studly thought I was imagining things until he heard it, too. Maybe she’s a German Shepherd trapped in a cat’s body. I could try calling her Heidi or perhaps Gretchen.

Until she provides additional information, she’ll just be Gracie. I know she calls me “Meow, meow?” I answer to it every time.

Peace, people.

Wine and the New Cat

Gracie, our new kitty, is a hoot. It’s been many years since we’ve had such an active cat, and both Studly Doright and I are having to relearn the dangers of extra sharp claws and crazy cat antics.

Today, I watched Gracie launch herself halfway across the den, where she knocked over a couch cushion before hurtling herself underneath the television. She bonked her head on the wall, turned around and did the whole thing in reverse. Afterwards she flopped down in the middle of the room and fell asleep almost instantly.

We’re working on the appropriate use of claws. She gets a stern “no!” any time she scratches the couch. Treats are given when she uses the scratching post instead. Savvy readers should invest in companies that make cat treats. you’ll be rich. Rich, I tell you!

I’ve had to resort to drinking copious amounts of wine just to maintain my equilibrium. Fortunately, I really like wine. And cats.

Peace, people!