My daily snapshot of Robert’s and my 2023 trip to get away from Savannah’s St. Patrick’s Day parade and celebrations.
It is a rainy and cool St. Patrick’s Day here in Atlanta on day four of our little trek to get away from Savannah.
So we have enjoyed “indoor.” A workout at the Y and a hot tub soak. A little shopping. And now a lazy afternoon snuggled on the couch.
So resting comfortably, I send this blessing out to you all.
1. Being able to say “Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” away from Savannah’s craziness today.
2. One of our local colleges, SCAD—the Savannah College of Art and Design—making the big time in Hollywood.
I taught international students at SCAD as an adjunct after retiring from full time college teaching.
3. The unexpected joy when I find a little nook and cranny in Savannah’s historic district which I had never seen before.
4. Our sense of touch. It is raining where we are in Atlanta at the moment, and I’m so thankful to be able to feel the drops on my face and hands as we dash out of our car running around the city.
5. Grilled peaches.
May you have a peachy weekend ahead.
A blog category about finding “art” in unexpected places and situations.
A little while ago, Robert and I were leaving our favorite little Atlanta breakfast place, Homegrown.
Walking toward the car, I heard them before I saw them. Detective-like, I quickly turned around.
They were casually (and somewhat seductively) leaning against the back shed of the little hole-in-the- wall jewel of a restaurant, singing, belting their hearts and souls out.
The Seven Sisters singing their way through The Great American Songbook.
I could’ve stayed there all day, reveling in the joy, the pathos, the excitement, the disappointment, the yearning fullness of their song.
They were us all—EveryWoman, EveryMan—leaning back and leaning into life. Our days, months, and years filled with living the truth of their diverse songs.
But HR finally made me get in the car.
“Neal, other people need to park.”
“And hear,” I thought.
So we made our way back to our midtown Airbnb, but not without the Sisters’ melodies still ringing in my ears and heart.
As we pulled up to our Airbnb, the most amazing thing REALLY HAPPENED, raising goosebumps on my skin. A young lady in a pick-up parked near us. When she opened her door, Robert and I heard her before we saw her—-singing joyfully. She made her way into the other half of the duplex that makes up our Airbnb. She continued to sing as she turned on the vacuum cleaner. Vocal joy. It actually felt a little quietly empty when she got in her truck and drove away.
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.
May you have a restful evening ahead.
So last night, I looked in the pantry and saw one lonely sweet potato.
A bit of butter and a sprinkling of dark brown sugar—then five minutes later our humble abode sprang to joyful and deliciously aromatic life.
I can still smell the sweet potato life this morn.
Simple marvels.
A blog category of pics I’ve taken of HR (Hubby Robert) and … well, just about anything.
Robert and … a duck.
So yesterday we went for a little park bench sit-down (I was not feeling too well) at nearby Lake Mayer.
HR was so husbandly, lovingly concerned and supportive …
Until he saw a photo op.
He has this thing for murals. He has photographed them in a variety of cities. And the one on the side of this Little Library grabbed him.
Here he is explaining something to me about who knows what. I wasn’t paying much attention. Remember, I was not feeling too well.
But then an intruder arrived. See her (him?) Over to the right in the photo above.
“That is a Muscovy duck,” HR explained.
For some reason that duck made me feel better.
As I have said, probably far too many times on this blog, I love living in downtown Historic District Savannah.
And one of the reasons? The beautifully unique twenty-two extant squares (two were lost to “progress”).
[Did I punctuate the above properly?]
This evening I am hanging out in Warren Square, the square closest to my own, Washington Square.
But the sidewalk is.
Yes.
And that magic is free.
An early dogwood tree around the corner from us …
We snatched a small branch.
One of the great rewards about living where we do in Historic District Savannah is that I can walk two blocks over toward the Savannah River, find a bench, read, and experience the Joy of Nature.
That’s the Savannah River behind me. Looking so peaceful now. But don’t be fooled. It is one of the busiest ports in the nation. And all of the ships travel right behind me.
But not at this moment.
Peace.
NealEnJoy 