Posted in Joy, Humor, Travel

2023 Escape from St. Patrick’s Day #1

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.

He thinks his smile can always get him out of trouble. Ha!

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.

Can you sit in/on these?

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.

Why can’t hills be flat?

OK, enough of this foolishness. I’m eating Robert’s dinner off the grill. See you tomorrow.

Posted in Joy, Humor

Hop Scotch

Since Robert is doing so much better after Covid AND serious pneumonia, he wanted something special, “as a reward.”


(Just between you and me, he’s long past the I-need-a-reward stage. But he is still on oxygen. And sometimes you just go along. But not much longer.)

He didn’t want a new blanket, or a Cadbury egg since it’s so close to Easter, or a new pair of hospital non-grip socks.

No, of course not, he wanted something healthy: Whiskey! But not just any whiskey. He wanted Oban. You don’t know about this Scottish whiskey? Of course you don’t. I wish I didn’t either. It is preposterously expensive.

But I bought it. For my fellow.

Here’s to Robert’s health!

Posted in Joy, Humor

Happy Anniversary!

So today is my anniversary! Well, not just mine. It’s Robert’s too … our Fifth Wedding Anniversary … December 9th! (We’ve been together longer, but purist Robert didn’t want to get married until we could legally do so in Georgia— back in 2016.)

We’re in Atlanta to celebrate. The Alliance Theatre’s new adaptation of A Christmas Carol last night. So good, with deeper character development than usual. God blessed us everyone! And heading to the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra’s Christmas with the ASO tonight. “Culture” is our middle name.

Here’s the very cool anniversary pop-up (or is it pop-out?) card Robert gave me.

Again, always the purist, he likes to find cards that are made Specifically for Gay Folks. (Whereas I just grab one from the Dollar Tree and use white out to get rid of the woman’s hair and … etc. and use a permanent black magic marker to messily but effectively transform “wife” into “husband.”)

Isn’t it cute? I loved it. It’s so pop-uppy, colorful and GAY — in every sense of the word!

TIB (Truth in Blogging): We’re not both black.


And here’s a little anniversary bouquet we got for our midtown Atlanta rental’s little “dining room” table.

Wait, you need a close-up, don’t you? Let me snap one real quick.

Here you go. Well, Lo and Behold! Look toward the back of the pic above. Santa pants! And we all know from yesterday’s post “Robert and …” #6 EXACTLY what that means: Robert’s nearby!

So I interrupted him fussing around in the kitchen doing who knows what (he’s always throwing it up to me that he went to ”Chef’s School”) and told him to wave at our thousands, hundreds, dozens single-digits of blog fans.

P.S. Google just reminded me that a traditional Fifth Anniversary gift is Wood. (And my phone’s calculator cruelly taunted me that I’ll be 114 on our Fiftieth Diamond Anniversary! I just depowered my phone.) Anyway, on the off chance that you haven’t gotten our Wooden Gift yet, here are a couple of suggestions:

We watched The Queen’s Gambit! And I would like to try that looking-up-at-the-ceiling strategy.

I see nothing.


This wooden nutcracker would SO come in handy. Remember that big bowl of nuts from yesterday’s post?


Wedding Day, 2016
With daughters Amy and Sarah