My daily snapshot of Robert’s and my 2023 trip to get away from Savannah’s St. Patrick’s Day parade and celebrations.
We started off the day in the cabin with beyond-delicious molten center brownies we had gotten in Savannah at our new favorite bakery, Sweet Patricias.
Bloated, we headed about an hour away to my small hometown of Ball Ground and the town cemetery where my parents are buried.
For as long as I can remember, having been taught by my folks, I have enjoyed “decorating the graves” of family members. Each changing season and holiday would find us heading to the various cemeteries and graveyards, spending time reminiscing and laughing at wonderful memories.
After a great lunch at a local meat and three, Robert and I spent a little while at Ball Ground’s small but beautiful botanical garden.
Here’s a bench in honor of my dad.
On the way back to our state park cabin, we stopped by the Georgia National Cemetery. I guess today we were thinking about those who have gone before us.
We left in great admiration and respect for our military service men and women.
Back at Red Top Mountain, HR grilled hotdogs, then we rested by the fire.
For this blog category, “Countdown to Christmas: Images of Peace,” each day between December 1 and 25, I share some of our photography that invites rest, peace, tranquility and love.
Parasols of Peace
I have always found umbrellas to be special handheld “harbingers of peace.” I believe it all started when I was just a wee little thing and would travel from my middle Georgia hometown of Macon up to the tiny north Georgia hamlet of Ball Ground, where my grandparents lived.
For my pre-teen summers I would spend a couple of weeks each July with my Granny Nix and her second husband Veto.
Just me. No parents. None of my four brothers. It was glorious.
Each weekday morning, I would go to work with Granny at the family-owned Frosty Bar (similar to today’s Dairy Queen). Granny let me stay behind the counter with her, while she made cheeseburgers and milkshakes. I would tiptoe up to the bar to hand the folks their food and then stay low to savor the leftover milkshake which Granny would pour into a little paper cup just for me.
But Sunday was the most special day! Granny and I would dress up and walk to the little country Baptist church nearby. As we left the house, she would position her purse strap on her right shoulder and then with her right hand, snap open her big flowered umbrella.
Her left hand reached for me, and we strolled leisurely and somewhat proudly down the dirt road, protected from the unforgiving Georgia July sun, underneath Granny’s lovingly protective parasol.
So when I snap open my own umbrella today, or just see an umbrella, I am thankful for the love and protection underneath.
And like Granny, I also love colorful bumbershoots.