So as you regulars know, Robert and I live in beautiful Historic District Savannah … and we’re directly on the route of the annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade—one of the largest and longest and “liveliest” (i.e. alcohol-laden) in the nation.
Sidebar: After I retired from my career in the Department of Writing and Linguistics at Georgia Southern University, an hour north of Savannah, I headed down to Savannah. Found a neat little apartment, which was directly on the parade route. I loved those few early years of St. Patrick’s Day celebrations and even hosted several parties. Then later when Robert and I moved a few blocks over just off Washington Square, we found ourselves again on the parade route. That sounds convenient and fun, right? Well, we quickly grew tired of the hundreds of thousands of folks who descended upon our small city, with an annual contingent camping outside our apartment the night before the parade, partying noisily throughout the entire night, trampling our outdoor plants, and … using the bathroom in our little alley.
So we started our annual tradition of heading outta Dodge for the week around St. Patrick’s Day.
I thought I’d volunteer to keep you posted on our shenanigans this year so you wouldn’t have to ask.
After hauling as many of our outdoor potted plants inside as we could manage, alerting the cat sitter, and saying a prayer of protection over our abode, we rushed out of the SAV with an Irish blessing.
We headed to north Georgia, stopping in Atlanta for lunch and a visit to our favorite Atlanta artsy destination —the High Museum of Art.
I questioned HR’s gayness when I found him photographing and flirting with an indecisive woman.
Storming away from him, I went into the craft area, found a large piece of poster paper, and created a little art of my own, which they quickly hung in the Beginner’s Gallery.
Back on speaking terms, we looked at a few more pieces.
Deciding we couldn’t, Robert and I drove north of Atlanta to the first destination of our little getaway, a cabin at Red Top Mountain State Park on beautiful Lake Allatoona.
A late afternoon hike.
Here’s Robert conquering … a rock.
OK, enough of this foolishness. I’m eating Robert’s dinner off the grill. See you tomorrow.