Doing the best I can with what I have
This morning at approximately 11:30 Central Daylight Saving Time, Studly Doright and I were just outside of Ft. Oglethorpe heading to points south. Doright Manor is our ultimate destination, and we should be there by 5 p.m. Only the length of Georgia is between us and home.
We had a grand week of motorcycling with friends in and around Bristol, Tennessee. It was hard to leave all of them behind, but we’re looking forward to sleeping in our own bed and petting the cats.
Peace, people!
I don’t lead an interesting life. In fact, if I weren’t such a klutz I’d be as boring as oatmeal. And not that fancy steel cut stuff with raisins, honey, and brown sugar. No sir. Plain old Quaker oatmeal sans butter. That’s how boring I’d be.
Some of my blogging friends provide interesting recaps of their weekly activities, though, and I thought I’d give it a go. Prepare to be underwhelmed.
I’m sure I did other similarly non-fascinating stuff, but I didn’t sleep much last night, and a nap seems like a good idea at this time.
Peace, people.
I enjoyed shopping in Thomasville, Georgia, on Friday even though I didn’t find what I was looking for. Instead, I found this guy hanging around outside a taxidermy shop.
I think I’ll call this one, “Oh Deer!” I wanted to call it, “Moose on the Loose,” but Studly stopped me from making that mistake. A good editor is priceless.
Peace, people!
On Friday I drove to Thomasville, Georgia, just under an hour north of Doright Manor. I didn’t think to take any photos until I came across this car.
I think it’s a Packard, but didn’t get close enough to tell. Here’s a closeup of the front end. Maybe someone can help identify the make and model.
I’m calling this “Immaculate Beauty!”
She was sitting alone on the beach under her umbrella, this pleasant looking middle-aged woman, reading her book and looking up occasionally at the brilliant blue Gulf. I watched her surreptitiously from my own chair for many minutes, imagining the scenarios that might have led to her being there.
I wondered if she, like me, has a husband who travels frequently leaving her to her own devices during the week. Perhaps she was a recent divorcée trying to find herself in the timeless rise and fall of the waves before moving on with her new single life. Maybe she was an international jewel thief, hiding out on Florida’s Forgotten Coast until she could find a place to offload her ill-gotten booty. Oh, the possibilities were endless.
Then, she spoke to me, “Come, share my umbrella.”
The temperature was 95°. I could hardly refuse an offer like that, even if she was an international jewel thief, so I picked up my chair and settled in beside her, instantly relieved to be out of the direct rays of the sun. I thanked her and for the next hour we chatted like old friends.
She was closer to my age than I’d thought when watching her from several yards away, and attractive in a gamine sort of way. Her name was Tammy or Tammie, maybe Tammi. I didn’t ask for a spelling, and she and her husband were spending the week camping near St. George Island. Her sister and brother-in-law were planning to join them later that day.
Tammy/Tammie/Tammi lives near Thomasville, Georgia, where they farm. They grow pecans among other crops. Her husband of 40 years had contracted skin cancer from spending many long hours working in the sun, so he stays in the camper during the day and comes to join her once the sun starts to set. It’s their routine.
She’s one of four children, three girls and one boy, and their father died when they were all very young. Her mother was a strong woman who kept their family together and raised good kids. Her husband’s family is very big and boisterous and fun.
I told her about Studly and me, our kids, and grandkids, and our many moves from state to state in our 42 years of marriage. How we hoped we could retire and live out the rest of our lives in Tallahassee, but how hard it is to be so far away from the rest of our family. I told her about my deceased parents and how much I miss them. I told her about my brothers and their families, and about Studly’s own boisterous family.
Soon it cane time for me to leave. I thanked her again for the shade and also for the conversation. As I walked away it occurred to me that she hadn’t mentioned children, and I hadn’t asked if she and her husband had any. Surely the existence of children would have come into the conversation at some point. Still I wish I’d asked. That, and about the jewel thief theory. That could still be a possibility.
Peace, people.
I surrender! I have all these photos of the grandkids’ visit, but not the oomph needed to write about them. My oomph evaporated on Monday afternoon when I left the kids at the airport in Panama City Beach, and I’m not sure when it’s coming back.
Life continues, though, as does this blog, so I’m going to take the easy, less oomph reliant path and just post photos. If the spirit moves me, I might even comment on them. If not, well, make up your own captions. Oh, I started at the end of their visit and went backwards for some reason.
Here are a few from our morning in Panama City Beach before we headed to the airport:
Dominique and friend, Sophia, pose outside Dick’s Last Resort.
Enjoying a pineapple drink on the promenade.
Dominique pushing Jackson in a beach wheelchair so he wouldn’t get sand in his cast. I pushed him out to the beach and she pushed him back to the pavement. Hey, I think I know the moment my oomph disappeared!
Ahhh! The sun and the sand and the water.
Dining at Dick’s Last Resort, where the waiters are rude on purpose and the giggles are non-stop.
From our trip to Wild Adventures in Valdosta, Georgia on Sunday:
Poppa (aka Studly Doright) and Jackson built a motorcycle during the kids’ visit. For some reason I didn’t take any “before” photos, but this bike was in pieces at the beginning of last week:
Tallahassee Museum and Zoo is one of the grandkids’ (and grandparents’) favorite places to visit.
While the two 15-year-olds embarked on the tree-to-tree adventure,
Jackson, Studly, and I explored the zoo area:
At Jackson’s request we went “thrifting.”
And I took the girls sightseeing and swimming at Wakulla Springs:
And that’s about it. The kids and I stayed up late to watch a scary movie one night, but I didn’t document that. I had crafts for us to do, but those ideas were met with little enthusiasm. That’s just fine. I’m not sure my limited supply of oomph would’ve allowed for much creativity.
It’s awfully quiet around Doright Manor since they’ve been gone. The only one happy with the kids’ absence is our cat, Patches. Maybe she’ll help with the oomph issue.
Or not.
Yesterday (Sunday) was nuts. Studly Doright and I took the Texas grandkids and their friend, Sophia, to Wild Adventures theme park in Valdosta, Georgia. I was too worn out from all the fun and heat last night to write a blog post, and this morning I have to get the crew up to catch their flight out of Panama City. A single snapshot is all I have time to post today.
I call this one, “The Trouble with Butterflies.” Darn thing wouldn’t stand still.
Peace, people.
Drive, drive, drive! That’s about all I did on Friday the 13th. I left my friend Nicky’s home in Kingsport, Tennessee, around 9:45 yesterday morning and drove to Knoxville to meet my cousin, Peggy, for lunch. Peggy is my second cousin. Her father and my grandfather were brothers. Both were handsome men married to attractive women.
Peggy and her two older sisters were the young women I looked up to as a child. All three were beautiful and well-mannered; whereas, I was a plain little girl with a tendency to rebel. Nevertheless, Peggy, who is three years my senior, was a sometimes playmate, and I have great memories of times we spent together in our younger days.
I’d lost track of Peggy for at least a couple of decades, maybe more, until a few months ago when she friended me on Facebook. After I’d accepted my friend Nicky’s invitation to visit Kingsport I began making plans to have lunch with Peggy in Knoxville on the way home.
Now I’m kicking myself because I forgot to get a picture of the two of us together. Damn. You’ll have to take my word for it, but Peggy is still beautiful and well-mannered. We did our best to catch up in the limited time we had to visit, but I need at least another week with her.
Once we parted ways I set my GPS to avoid major highways and the city of Atlanta on my trip home to Doright Manor. The resulting route took me on a scenic, yet curvy, roller coaster ride through Tennessee and into Georgia. I figured that once I’d gotten far enough south of the aforementioned Atlanta I’d reconfigure my settings to find the fastest route.
Back roads are fun, yet exhausting, and around 7:00 p.m. I decided to stop for the night in the town of LaGrange, Georgia. Now, I might’ve found the most perfect town in the world quite by accident. After checking into the brand new Courtyard by Marriott, I had a nice dinner in their bistro before setting out to explore the downtown area.
Directly across the street from my hotel was a park with a statue in the midst of a fountain.
Curious as to the identity of the statue, I crossed the street for a better look. I’d expected to see some Confederate war era general, but to my surprise and delight I discovered it to be a statue of General Lafayette.
According to GeorgiaInfo, an online Georgia almanac,
“Born at the Chateau de Chavaniac, Auvergne, France, on September 6, 1757, Gilbert Motier de Lafayette became at age 19 a major general on George Washington’s staff. He played a vital role in the defeat of General Charles Cornwallis at Yorktown, October 19, 1781, ending the American Revolution.
Later in France Lafayette was commanding general of the National Guard. Leader in the movement that gave France a republican form of government, author of the Declaration of the Rights of Man, and designer of the “Cocarde of Liberty” which he holds in his hand.
LaGrange, Georgia, was named for Lafayette’s home, the Chateau de LaGrange, on motion of Julius C. Alford, when this city was chartered on December 16, 1828…”
The statue and the surrounding park are a fitting centerpiece for this lovely town.
The First Baptist Church on the Square:
This is a museum of some kind. I’d have visited it if it had been open. Maybe on my next trip through the area I’ll have better timing.
Lots of interesting shops called to me, but again, I arrived too late:
I don’t think I’d ever seen a “Keep Off the Trees” sign before. It kind of made me want to climb them, rebel that I am.
I MUST visit this shop:
What a day, am I right? Lunch with a long lost cousin followed by a trip on scenic back roads, culminating in a stopover in LaGrange. I’m ready to be back home with Studly Doright and the cats, though.
Peace, people!
On Saturday morning Studly Doright decided we needed to drive the thirty miles or so to Bainbridge, Georgia, for breakfast at the American restaurant. I was delighted that he felt like getting out for a bit, so I quickly made myself presentable, and soon we were driving north through Havana, FL, and across the Florida-Georgia state line.
The drive is a pretty one through rolling hills and by 9:30 a.m. we were pulling up in front of The American.
There was just one problem–the restaurant didn’t open until 11:30. Studly assured me that he knew of another restaurant in Bainbridge, so we drive across town only to discover that they weren’t open either.
Studly suggested we get a donut at a place we’d passed as we drove into town, after which we could shop for a few necessities at the local Walmart then try The American for lunch. A donut sounded awful, but by this time I was so hungry I’d have agreed to just about anything.
After eating our much too doughy donuts we drove to Walmart and bought a new alarm clock and a few other items. We wandered around as long as we could, but it was only 10:30, and I could still taste that damned donut.
I suggested we go back to the downtown area and walk around until The American opened. Studly parked under a shade tree and sent me off to explore while he took a nap.
This pretty park sits in the heart of downtown Bainbridge:
Finally The American restaurant opened. We’d never eaten there, but one of Studly’s co-workers highly recommended it.
The interior was appealing.
Studly enjoyed a Hawaiian ribeye sandwich, and I had a grilled chicken and pesto sandwich. Both were good, but I’m not sure they were worth the drive. Maybe that darned donut was still messing with my taste buds. I’ll have to give the restaurant another try some day.
We drove home and both of us took a nap. Poor Studly still isn’t getting enough sleep due to pain from surgery to repair sciatic nerve damage, so he catches a few zzzzz’s anytime he can. I feel totally helpless.
Peace, people.
On Sunday I met up with members of the Tallahassee Women’s Meetup group for a visit to Birdsong Nature Center outside of Thomasville, Georgia. This was my second visit to Birdsong, and I had eagerly anticipated the trip.
http://www.birdsongnaturecenter.org
Anticipation can sometimes be the enemy, and leave one feeling disappointed by reality, but Birdsong delivered the magic once again.
Here are just a few of my extremely amateurish photos.
Dogwood in bloom:
A titmouse at the window:
A bright red cardinal:
Wild azaleas:
A nice fat woodpecker:
An even fatter squirrel:
The Listening Place:
And one more cardinal:
What a glorious day!
Peace, people.
