I think maybe in 2023, I’ll become a spy. I’m retired, so I have some free time on my hands. How hard could it be?
Please ignore this post. Because I don’t think spies are supposed to tell people that they are spies, right?
Here’s our newest ornament we bought on our fun-filled weekend trip to see the Atlanta Ballet’s “The Nutcracker.”
(Please notice HR’s new Christmas tree pants. But don’t be upset; he still has his Santa pants.)
So today, HR’s and my assignment was to pick up grandson Gabriel from one sleepover, get him lunch at Chik-fil-A and take him to another sleepover. His parents are out of town.
No problem. An easy assignment.
But then the Universe got in the way. Gabriel‘s friend from the second sleepover was not going to be home for another couple of hours.
So we went inside Chick-fil-A for a sit-down lunch. Taking up half an hour. (Grandchildren can eat!)
What to do for the remaining time before dropping him off? (We were quite away from his house and from our house.)
Retired professor and older grandfather that I am, I sincerely suggested going to a nearby library. ON A SATURDAY. And maybe “hang out” or just spend a little time browsing the shelves.
Both Robert and Gabriel stared at me, as if I was suggesting that we strangle a new-born kitten.
So Robert, after continuing to glare at me with very mean eyes, just started driving around on Whitemarsh Island, one of Savannah’s many river islands, close to the Atlantic Ocean.
Out of the blue, Gabriel said, “Maybe we can go to Bogey’s Sports Bar and Mini Golf.”
So we did.
And had a JOYFUL hour or so.
End result?
An unexpectedly, incredible fun time.
Georgia gubernatorial candidate Stacey Abrams was here in Savannah this morning for her “Let’s Get It Done Bus Tour.”
Robert excitedly attended without me (because I’m a bit under the weather this weekend).
Natalie Portman is in town this month filming her latest movie, so she introduced Stacey.
May Stacey Abrams be our next Georgia governor !
Last night Robert and I returned home late from dinner, got out of our car, looked up and saw this …
HR’s true partner/cat Benny perched in our second story study window, gazing out. Looking down, his head slowly followed our steps as we walked to the door.
Benny prophesied our return home.
So Robert and I are in Atlanta this weekend for Pride. You may (or may not) know that the traditional month for Pride celebrations is June. But not in the deep South. It’s too hot! And some of our Pride might melt. October works better.
We’re staying at a very cool Airbnb near Piedmont Park where the festival is held.
We get our steps in climbing up to our suite …
And we have our very own little morning coffee spot …
Like-minded folks here.
Today, Saturday, is the Pride festival. (Tomorrow is the parade.)
Such loving, accepting and inclusive fun.
HAPPY OCTOBER PRIDE, Y’ALL!
I have always had a love affair with doors, especially eccentric doors.
Doors beckon, or deny.
Here’s one I saw today on a walk with Robert in our Historic District Savannah. It had a storied past, don’t you think?
Here’s to Doors!
Buying end-of-season green beans this morning at Davis Produce here in Savannah.
Now let’s see, how shall I cook them?
So, Robert and I were enjoying an evening walk here in historic district Savannah near where we live. Minding our own business. When we came upon this …
Wait. You need to look down.
See? Broken eggshells carefully placed at the base of the door to this business.
Robert frustratingly interrupted me by taking my pic as I was trying to start an important investigative report.
But. What? Huh? Eggshells at the bottom of a door?
I tried to research it a bit. But didn’t find too much except for vague references to Savannah voodoo and magic.
What do you think is going on here?
Should I go to the business Monday morning and ask?
NealEnJoy 