My weekly gratitude journal, of sorts.
1. Picking strawberries yesterday at Franklin Farm up the road from us in Statesboro (GA).
2. HR and an albino alligator.
3. The ability to add and subtract. Thank you, elementary school teachers.
4. Sandy pine cones on south Georgia trails.
5. A few pretties on our Friday morning walk here in Historic District Savannah.
May your weekend produce a garden of joy.
Walking along the Savannah River near us, Robert and I came upon this stretch of “weeds” pushing, rising, bursting forth with colorful, flowering life through man’s concrete and bricks.
I love to be happy. Don’t we all? And it doesn’t take much to make me so.
Over the weekend, HR and I traversed over to our favorite new Savannah bakery, Sweet Patricia’s. WE LOVE THIS PLACE!
Our breakfast was BEYOND delicious. But the piece de resistance was … the bathroom.
It exuded happiness.
On the way out, I told beautiful Morgan, the face of Sweet Patricia’s (at least on that day), that we claim the bathroom, and hope to move one of the tables into the bathroom next time we eat there.
Morgan responded: “We will reserve it for you!”
Like I said, it doesn’t take much.
This is why I never learned to fly an airplane …
Seriously?
If I were actually flying that plane, the only survivor would probably be the cobra.
My weekly gratitude journal, of sorts.
1. Finishing with Robert perhaps one of the top three novels we’ve read together in the last ten years …
Oh my goodness, it’s hilarious, heartwarming, heartbreaking, a mystery, a treatise on our economy and banking system, a love story/love stories, an examination of the inevitably difficult dynamics of family. And a book FULL of surprises. I did not want it to end. I miss the characters. I highly recommend it!
What a joy to read a good book.
2. The 2023 Savannah Music Festival.
What a treat! Last night Robert and I went to a bluegrass event with incredible banjoes, fiddles and guitars.
(Just so you know, I played trombone in high school. Okay, I was 3rd chair. And I really never managed to march on the football field and play my instrument at the same time. But still.)
3. Air. Oxygen. Breath.
4. HR finally learning how to photograph me now that I’m 71.
5. This morning walking past my favorite old Savannah mansion which faces Forsyth Park.
May your weekend’s peace and joy be of mansion proportions.
So HR and I went to a new little cafe near us for lunch today.
It was raining, so we went inside.
Delicious sandwiches
But what warmed my heart the most was the little sign as we entered …
I’M SPECIAL!
YOU ARE TOO!
This morning Greene Square near us here in Historic District Savannah hosted the annual Spring Equinox Brunch. Glorious!
Oh my gosh. Such springtime fun as we proclaimed a hearty “Salut!” to Spring 2023.
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.
NealEnJoy 