Saturday, April 28, 2012
Our deck, April 28, 2012, 6:30 PM, Senses of Peace
Today mama turtledove cooed a welcome for her babies, nested safely within the branches of our stately Japanese Maple. As I look not far away from her nest, I notice brown baby bunny with perky ears nestled low nibbling clover, unaware of a crimson streak passing overhead. I listen closely as songbirds harmonize with melodious windchimes, ignoring the tone deaf mockingbird that wants the last word. How pleasant the cool fingers of breeze that move easily through my hair and softly caress my skin. Catching a glimpse of papa redbreast zooming to his nearby home, just in time for supper, I glance aside at the sentry robin, perched upon the highest branch of the weaping fig. Suddenly, he spies another winged neighbor and gives chase, swishing almost too close to my vantage point, interrupting my solitary musings.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
"Cheers" to Rector, Arkansas
Truvy: Louie brought his new girlfriend over, and the
nicest thing I can say is all her tattoos are spelled correctly. »
Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got. Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot. Wouldn't you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came. You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows Your name. You wanna go where people know people are all the same,
You wanna go where everybody knows your name source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/tvthemes/cheerslyrics.html
When I was a teen, I could not wait to achieve some degree of anonymity, get away to some place, any place, where Nobody Knew My Name! When I was a teen, and everyone knew everything I did, or it seemed that way, and they were “tattle-tales” to boot, escape was the only way out. My growing up was protected because of the care all the citizens felt for all of its children, and in retrospect, Camden, Arkansas, was a great place to grow up. But, when speeding down a paved country road, dancing too close to a sweetheart, or stealing a kiss in a darkened corner at the dance made headlines in my living room before I had time to get home, I wanted to be anywhere people did not know that “little Dansby girl.” I tried an escape to college, but my parents had a hot line to the Dean of Women. Go figure!
Now, I am delighted to be learning to enjoy my retirement in a tiny town where, would you believe, “lots of people” know my name. Prior to January, 2012, walking down the halls of Bartlett High School, attending a meeting with the school system, or working with groups of students and teachers fed my need for the acknowledgement that I matter in this world. Leaving Bartlett High School after 27 years and Shelby County Schools after 39 years, there would naturally be a gap to be filled: my need for relationship with people, and they with me. I was moving to a tiny town, where I had connection through my husband, but not in my own right. I had previously been known as my parents’ daughter when I grew up in Camden. In Bartlett and Shelby County, I had grown beyond identification as David and Richard’s mother to being “Jane.”
Comfort can come in being lost in the crowd of a big city; being unknown can be safe. You can disappear, if you wish. But I had grown accustomed to being acknowledged, on a small scale, anyway. I liked it, then, and like it now.
Today, the pharmacist says, “Hi, Jane, we’ve got your prescriptions ready for you.” The grocer says, “We got that bread you and Marvin like.” The banker and the tellers cash my check. The librarian orders books for me and the preacher stops to talk. The teachers at the school came to my garage sale and I gave them goodies for their classrooms. When I am in Wal-Mart, I recognize familiar faces from Rector. Everybody who drives any vehicle waves to everyone else.
Just as in anything, there is that “flip side” or “Side B.” As long as I don’t speed down a deserted road, ride on the back of Bobby Petrino’s Harley, or kiss men I am not married to, I figure I’m fairly safe.
I like living in this small town, where people are all the same, they seem glad you came, and “everybody knows your name.”
Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got. Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot. Wouldn't you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came. You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows Your name. You wanna go where people know people are all the same,
You wanna go where everybody knows your name source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/tvthemes/cheerslyrics.html
When I was a teen, I could not wait to achieve some degree of anonymity, get away to some place, any place, where Nobody Knew My Name! When I was a teen, and everyone knew everything I did, or it seemed that way, and they were “tattle-tales” to boot, escape was the only way out. My growing up was protected because of the care all the citizens felt for all of its children, and in retrospect, Camden, Arkansas, was a great place to grow up. But, when speeding down a paved country road, dancing too close to a sweetheart, or stealing a kiss in a darkened corner at the dance made headlines in my living room before I had time to get home, I wanted to be anywhere people did not know that “little Dansby girl.” I tried an escape to college, but my parents had a hot line to the Dean of Women. Go figure!
Now, I am delighted to be learning to enjoy my retirement in a tiny town where, would you believe, “lots of people” know my name. Prior to January, 2012, walking down the halls of Bartlett High School, attending a meeting with the school system, or working with groups of students and teachers fed my need for the acknowledgement that I matter in this world. Leaving Bartlett High School after 27 years and Shelby County Schools after 39 years, there would naturally be a gap to be filled: my need for relationship with people, and they with me. I was moving to a tiny town, where I had connection through my husband, but not in my own right. I had previously been known as my parents’ daughter when I grew up in Camden. In Bartlett and Shelby County, I had grown beyond identification as David and Richard’s mother to being “Jane.”
Comfort can come in being lost in the crowd of a big city; being unknown can be safe. You can disappear, if you wish. But I had grown accustomed to being acknowledged, on a small scale, anyway. I liked it, then, and like it now.
Today, the pharmacist says, “Hi, Jane, we’ve got your prescriptions ready for you.” The grocer says, “We got that bread you and Marvin like.” The banker and the tellers cash my check. The librarian orders books for me and the preacher stops to talk. The teachers at the school came to my garage sale and I gave them goodies for their classrooms. When I am in Wal-Mart, I recognize familiar faces from Rector. Everybody who drives any vehicle waves to everyone else.
Just as in anything, there is that “flip side” or “Side B.” As long as I don’t speed down a deserted road, ride on the back of Bobby Petrino’s Harley, or kiss men I am not married to, I figure I’m fairly safe.
I like living in this small town, where people are all the same, they seem glad you came, and “everybody knows your name.”
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Bobby and Miss Baby: Not So Easy Rider
Ouiser Boudreaux: I'm
not as sweet as I used to be. »
I have a confession to make. Given recent experiences in Tennessee, namely Memphis, regarding coaches and their shenanigans, I told Pam while on one of our walks, that in the name of a winning coach and program, the Athletic Department at U of A would probably say, “Oh, Bobby! Don’t do that!”
But, that was when I believed, first of all, he was alone on that motorcycle, and second, that he had perhaps just taken that pretty blonde for a joy-ride (not a play on words at the time).
As the cycle couple’s story spiraled into chaos, I knew what should be done and immediately so, but seriously doubted that it would happen. Memphis’ coach resigned and flew off to Kentucky before anyone even had a chance to fire him, if RC Johnson would have, which I doubt, also. Explaining away and even justifying “bad choices” has become too common in all avenues of society, but especially in athletics.
As I read in a recently published UofA faculty interview, “when Athletics leads at a University or any venue, that leadership must be with integrity or the essence of education is undermined.”
The dollars generated by major college sports funds programs for athletes and generates scholarship dollars for academia, also. Coffers have filled lately with dirty money, yet we glance at that aspect rarely, rather preferring to bask in the sunshine of TV revenues, championships, and bowl games. Making morally right decisions becomes situational, at best.
Lately, news focus has glared on Penn State, Ohio State, the University of Tennessee, and the University of Memphis Basketball under John Calapari. My viewpoint had become cynical.
Enter Jeff Long, Athletic Director at the University of Arkansas. With swift, yet not without heart felt sadness for a person who had become a friend, AD Long stated that no one person is above the law, above University policy, above the call to live and walk honorably among men. With clarity, he spoke to adults, students, children, and pundits of athletic business: hear and see this. Right is right and wrong is wrong. Illegal is simply that. In such cases, there can be no gray.
Of course, there are jokes: Bill Clinton appreciates them. Beyond that, I am so pleased that at long last a leader said, “turn in your keys” and meant it.
Any time a leader, especially a leader in such a high profile arena, places him(her)self in opposition to morality and above the law, those in authority have but one call to make. Giving “one more chance” weakens the stand for integrity and undermines character every time.
I have a confession to make. Given recent experiences in Tennessee, namely Memphis, regarding coaches and their shenanigans, I told Pam while on one of our walks, that in the name of a winning coach and program, the Athletic Department at U of A would probably say, “Oh, Bobby! Don’t do that!”
But, that was when I believed, first of all, he was alone on that motorcycle, and second, that he had perhaps just taken that pretty blonde for a joy-ride (not a play on words at the time).
As the cycle couple’s story spiraled into chaos, I knew what should be done and immediately so, but seriously doubted that it would happen. Memphis’ coach resigned and flew off to Kentucky before anyone even had a chance to fire him, if RC Johnson would have, which I doubt, also. Explaining away and even justifying “bad choices” has become too common in all avenues of society, but especially in athletics.
As I read in a recently published UofA faculty interview, “when Athletics leads at a University or any venue, that leadership must be with integrity or the essence of education is undermined.”
The dollars generated by major college sports funds programs for athletes and generates scholarship dollars for academia, also. Coffers have filled lately with dirty money, yet we glance at that aspect rarely, rather preferring to bask in the sunshine of TV revenues, championships, and bowl games. Making morally right decisions becomes situational, at best.
Lately, news focus has glared on Penn State, Ohio State, the University of Tennessee, and the University of Memphis Basketball under John Calapari. My viewpoint had become cynical.
Enter Jeff Long, Athletic Director at the University of Arkansas. With swift, yet not without heart felt sadness for a person who had become a friend, AD Long stated that no one person is above the law, above University policy, above the call to live and walk honorably among men. With clarity, he spoke to adults, students, children, and pundits of athletic business: hear and see this. Right is right and wrong is wrong. Illegal is simply that. In such cases, there can be no gray.
Of course, there are jokes: Bill Clinton appreciates them. Beyond that, I am so pleased that at long last a leader said, “turn in your keys” and meant it.
Any time a leader, especially a leader in such a high profile arena, places him(her)self in opposition to morality and above the law, those in authority have but one call to make. Giving “one more chance” weakens the stand for integrity and undermines character every time.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Scarlett Minds her Mammy, chooses Savannah! Coastal Tour Concludes
Scarlett: Atlanta!
Mammy: Savannah would be better for ya. You'd just get in trouble in Atlanta.
Scarlett: What trouble are you talking about?
Mammy: You know what trouble I's talkin' 'bout. I's talking 'bout Mr. Ashley Wilkes. He'll be comin' to Atlanta when he gets his leave, and you sittin' there waitin' for him, just like a spider. He belongs to Miss Melanie...
Scarlett: You go pack my things like Mother said.
Fresh from immersion in the waters of Tara around Atlanta and Marietta, GA, I am drawn to speculate on the fate of Scarlett, Rhett, and the South in particular, had Scarlett visited Savannah rather than Atlanta, GA, as the Yankees were approaching the state. (“How did they ever get in?”) Savannah was rather dull in comparison to Atlanta and a nice visit with Aunt Pittypat. I believe it might have been some of poor Charles Hamilton’s family who invited Scarlett, the recent widow, to spend some grieving months in Savannah. But when Atlanta was mentioned, Scarlett perked up, partially because that Stupid Ashley might show up there to visit his wife, Melanie. I must pause, however, and think seriously about the Savannah invitation. Shucks, the whole of the South might have been saved!
For one thing, and first in my immediate thoughts, is this: if Scarlett had spent any time at all in Savannah, she might have met Juliette Gordon (a very, very distant Georgia Cousin of mine). Just think what the Girl Scouts could have become with Scarlett’s influence! Fiddle-de-de! I might not have dropped out of Scouting, because with Scarlett’s influence, do you think the Girl Scouts of America would have wasted their time with baked potatoes in the ground! Scarlett valued the earth of Tara, but with her upbringing, I doubt she would have slept or cooked in the great outdoors. This friendship with Juliette was before the war, remember; The War changed Scarlett. If Scarlett had befriended Juliette Gordon who went on to marry a Mr. Low, they would have been selling Girl Scout Viking Ranges, wine glasses and fine linens! Forget the Girl Scout Cookies!
As another thought, had Scarlett spent time in Savannah, she would not have experienced the Burning of Atlanta. She would have had time to think about dressing in her crimson frock to turn General Sherman to pulp. As Sherman was marching to the Sea and burning Georgia, and thus the South, Scarlett would be readying herself to meet him. With one encounter, General Sherman surely would have given Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton the Christmas Present of Savannah instead of gifting the city to Abraham Lincoln. Since he did not burn the city due to its beauty, it would be only “fittin’” for him to give the city to Scarlett, the most charming and beautiful woman in the whole Confederacy. Then, the South would be in the hands of a Southerner, which is absolutely “fittin’.”
Mammy: Savannah would be better for ya. You'd just get in trouble in Atlanta.
Scarlett: What trouble are you talking about?
Mammy: You know what trouble I's talkin' 'bout. I's talking 'bout Mr. Ashley Wilkes. He'll be comin' to Atlanta when he gets his leave, and you sittin' there waitin' for him, just like a spider. He belongs to Miss Melanie...
Scarlett: You go pack my things like Mother said.
Fresh from immersion in the waters of Tara around Atlanta and Marietta, GA, I am drawn to speculate on the fate of Scarlett, Rhett, and the South in particular, had Scarlett visited Savannah rather than Atlanta, GA, as the Yankees were approaching the state. (“How did they ever get in?”) Savannah was rather dull in comparison to Atlanta and a nice visit with Aunt Pittypat. I believe it might have been some of poor Charles Hamilton’s family who invited Scarlett, the recent widow, to spend some grieving months in Savannah. But when Atlanta was mentioned, Scarlett perked up, partially because that Stupid Ashley might show up there to visit his wife, Melanie. I must pause, however, and think seriously about the Savannah invitation. Shucks, the whole of the South might have been saved!
For one thing, and first in my immediate thoughts, is this: if Scarlett had spent any time at all in Savannah, she might have met Juliette Gordon (a very, very distant Georgia Cousin of mine). Just think what the Girl Scouts could have become with Scarlett’s influence! Fiddle-de-de! I might not have dropped out of Scouting, because with Scarlett’s influence, do you think the Girl Scouts of America would have wasted their time with baked potatoes in the ground! Scarlett valued the earth of Tara, but with her upbringing, I doubt she would have slept or cooked in the great outdoors. This friendship with Juliette was before the war, remember; The War changed Scarlett. If Scarlett had befriended Juliette Gordon who went on to marry a Mr. Low, they would have been selling Girl Scout Viking Ranges, wine glasses and fine linens! Forget the Girl Scout Cookies!
As another thought, had Scarlett spent time in Savannah, she would not have experienced the Burning of Atlanta. She would have had time to think about dressing in her crimson frock to turn General Sherman to pulp. As Sherman was marching to the Sea and burning Georgia, and thus the South, Scarlett would be readying herself to meet him. With one encounter, General Sherman surely would have given Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton the Christmas Present of Savannah instead of gifting the city to Abraham Lincoln. Since he did not burn the city due to its beauty, it would be only “fittin’” for him to give the city to Scarlett, the most charming and beautiful woman in the whole Confederacy. Then, the South would be in the hands of a Southerner, which is absolutely “fittin’.”
The thought of Scarlett in Savannah must expand to all
aspects of the city. While there, I
learned of the Waving Girl and saw a statue in bronze at the harbor,
commemorating her long-suffering, vigilance and steadfastness, waiting for her
love to return from the sea. Sailors
eventually lined the decks to wave to this young wife who awaited her love’s
return from the sea. Alas, he never
returned. Hmmm and “God’s Nightshirt!” If Scarlett had been waiting for him, I’ll
bet he would have returned with flags flying.
Ok, let your imagination move to this supposition: Mammy, Pork, Prissy – maybe all of them would
have eventually come to Savannah to be safe with Scarlett and could have
influenced Paula Deen! Paula Deen might
not have diabetes, might not drench every dish in butter and sugar. Picture Mammy telling Scarlett she’d better
eat some supper before going to a party. If she didn’t, Scarlett would be eating like
a field-hand, like Paula Deen, instead of like a lady, like a bird. Scarlett could be stuffing her face with some
of Paula Deen’s butter and sugar laden biscuits and take on the size of Paula
plus her 2 sons. But, with the Tara staff
in Savannah, Mammy would be cinching Scarlett’s waist to 16” rather than
anything else.
What would Savannah be without a salute to Forrest
Gump! His whole story, told on that park
bench in Savannah, might have been different, especially if Scarlett had batted
her eyes at him. Even with his forever
love for Jenny, sister Sue Ellen and I know that would not have stopped
Scarlett. Forrest would have dropped his
whole “box of chocolates” at her feet.
The saga can go nowhere without Rhett. Scarlett’s avenues would still have crossed
with Rhett’s. After all, Charleston was
his home, only a few miles up the road. Since
Savannah was a major port city and he became a most famous and gallant blockade
runner, I must envision a fated encounter, perhaps in Lafayette Square, in
Savannah. Both he and Scarlett would ultimately
have statues made in their likenesses to adorn the Squares in Savannah. Live Oaks with hanging moss would frame
likenesses of Scarlett and Rhett: Scarlett in the Square – it just has a nice
ring to it!
Given what we know about Scarlett marrying for proximity,
for money, for any reason but love and fun, Rhett would still have had to catch
her between husbands, as she would absolutely become Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Oglethorpe.
My final musings bring me to ponder the literary
significance of Scarlett’s sojourn to Savannah.
Flannery O’Connor’s A Good Man is Hard to Find, John Berendt’s
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and even Forrest Gump’s retelling
of the History of the World from his bench in Savannah would have been altered
had Scarlett spun her magic. Pat Conroy
(The Water is Wide, Prince of Tides) and his wife Cassandra King
(Same Sweet Girls) along with Anne Rivers Siddons (Peachtree Road,
Low Country, Up Island, etc) would have many more tales to tell,
none of which, however, could match those spun regarding the forever fearless
Scarlett O’Hara.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
5-4-3-2-1-Ignition, Blast Off, Day 5
Easter Sunday morning we drove through on I-4 near Mickeydom and
waved to him and Goofy and motored on to Kennedy Space Center. It turned out to be a great drive and Nagging
Nelly did a great job of getting us there. It was a marvelous tour and Marvin and I were
the only 2 who answered questions on our bus ride to the first stop on the
tour. I knew Sally Ride as the first
woman in space and Marvin got Neil Armstrong as the astronaut who walked on the
moon. The highlight of the tour was the Rocket we
got to see that is housed in a huge facility.
The module is but one tiny part of an enormous rocket. The IMAX movie was great, also, and we also got to see a Launch Room - the one they really were using for Apollo missions.
5 – stops for paying a toll on the road to Kennedy from $.75 to $1.25.
4 – miles after the BP to the Ticket Admission Center at Kennedy; we got to park right up front!
3 – Separate areas to visit on the tour, including the observation deck tofrom which you can see all the launch pads, the Rocket center, and the Gift Shop.
2 – PM time we left to drive North to Savannah after touching the moon (we touched a moon rock!)
1 – the fateful exit to get gas about 20 miles out of Savannah and… Ignition (someone else)…
Blast Off – what that other car did to us – hit us in the Trailer Hitch as we were stopped at a red light. We are not hurt. Marvin was so tense that he has more a tension ache, as I was relaxed, looking at Savannah pamphlets. I was seeing "black" and some stars before I realized we had been slammed from the back. Thank God, we were not hurt, the truck is fine, and the driver of the other car left 40 feet in skid marks. We did not lose too much time and the driver of the other car did have insurance and was not hurt. His passenger simply fell out of the car weeping hysterically and was taken to the hospital. We figure she might have been upset for other reasons.
We were able to go on to Savannah and got in around 8PM.
5 – stops for paying a toll on the road to Kennedy from $.75 to $1.25.
4 – miles after the BP to the Ticket Admission Center at Kennedy; we got to park right up front!
3 – Separate areas to visit on the tour, including the observation deck tofrom which you can see all the launch pads, the Rocket center, and the Gift Shop.
2 – PM time we left to drive North to Savannah after touching the moon (we touched a moon rock!)
1 – the fateful exit to get gas about 20 miles out of Savannah and… Ignition (someone else)…
Blast Off – what that other car did to us – hit us in the Trailer Hitch as we were stopped at a red light. We are not hurt. Marvin was so tense that he has more a tension ache, as I was relaxed, looking at Savannah pamphlets. I was seeing "black" and some stars before I realized we had been slammed from the back. Thank God, we were not hurt, the truck is fine, and the driver of the other car left 40 feet in skid marks. We did not lose too much time and the driver of the other car did have insurance and was not hurt. His passenger simply fell out of the car weeping hysterically and was taken to the hospital. We figure she might have been upset for other reasons.
We were able to go on to Savannah and got in around 8PM.
Strawberry Fields Forever, Day 4
…strawberry fields and fields and fields and Orange Groves, Palm Trees and a beautiful Bay.
Drove right up to Betty Dale and Bill’s house with the help of Nagging Nancy (Nelly), AKA: our GPS. It is a lovely home that Dale has refurbished and updated over the years with all the new things to make a house wonderfully livable and beautiful. BDW just out did herself and had deli meats, cheeses, breads, fruits ( including watermelon) for lunch along with surely-to-die-for Brownies. After we talked Non-Stop, snuggled with Kiltie, (the Westie) and had our lunch on the patio under the Lanai, by the pool, we visited some more. A reservation at the Rusty Pelican (*****) on Tampa Bay highlighted the evening. What a perfect sunset and dinner with friends.
Dale and I got to make a conference call (hands free cell phone) with Suzanne Akins Hall, our friend from our youth and still our friend forever, before turning in for bed, to get up early for breakfast. Again, Dale was a most gracious hostess as she served delicious muffins, eggs, and fresh fruit plus coffee and juice. We were planning on attending Easter service at church, but the drive on I-4 and I-95 seemed daunting, so we left Valrico, FL around 9AM. Dale and Bill were just so very gracious and we thoroughly enjoyed visiting with them. The only thing I left in their bathroom: my make-up mirror.
Drove right up to Betty Dale and Bill’s house with the help of Nagging Nancy (Nelly), AKA: our GPS. It is a lovely home that Dale has refurbished and updated over the years with all the new things to make a house wonderfully livable and beautiful. BDW just out did herself and had deli meats, cheeses, breads, fruits ( including watermelon) for lunch along with surely-to-die-for Brownies. After we talked Non-Stop, snuggled with Kiltie, (the Westie) and had our lunch on the patio under the Lanai, by the pool, we visited some more. A reservation at the Rusty Pelican (*****) on Tampa Bay highlighted the evening. What a perfect sunset and dinner with friends.
Dale and I got to make a conference call (hands free cell phone) with Suzanne Akins Hall, our friend from our youth and still our friend forever, before turning in for bed, to get up early for breakfast. Again, Dale was a most gracious hostess as she served delicious muffins, eggs, and fresh fruit plus coffee and juice. We were planning on attending Easter service at church, but the drive on I-4 and I-95 seemed daunting, so we left Valrico, FL around 9AM. Dale and Bill were just so very gracious and we thoroughly enjoyed visiting with them. The only thing I left in their bathroom: my make-up mirror.
Way Down upon the Suwannee River, Far, Far Away! Day 3
Ocala, FL – Horse Capitol of the World – gorgeous horse
farms breed, raise, and train Thoroughbreds for races such as Belmont Stakes, Pemlico,
Kentucky Derby, etc. Beautiful farms with fencing that is remarkable.
The Villages, FL – Cindy’s Haven. Cindy is living in her piece of paradise and
all is right with the world. For anyone
who might be wondering, Cindy hears beach music and has her feet on her own spot
of earth, and is happy as a clam. She
and Steve golf-carted us around the area, darting fearlessly under highways and
through tunnels, around corners, meeting oncoming carts with no
trepidation. We got to see beautifully
landscaped common areas and recreation centers.
Steve is very gracious though in obvious pain with hip, joint, leg, and
knee pain complications. Busy Cindy is
running full throttle on all cylinders and hearing her beach music every day. We ate lunch at the Canes, and had a
wonderful Ambrosia Chicken Salad Wrap and Marvin had a Ruben Sandwich that was delicious. Later we had some beverages on the porch at the "Jennifer Lopez" LPGA Champion's Clubhouse and a very cool breeze came up, so we darted for the house in a very cool Golf Cart. Dinner was at a nifty Italian spot in The Villages. The Cawthons are happy in The Villages, though it is far, far away! The only things I left behind in the Villages
were a nightgown and a robe which are being mailed to me.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Coastal Adventure Day 2: From 1-100
1 - $1 – best dollar
spent April 5. The toll to Pensacola Beach: Florida’s National Seashore.
Gorgeous.
3 - number of Alligators in the creek beside the hotel outside
Mobile, AL
8 - number of decks we climbed up to get to the top (as high as
allowed) of the USS Alabama
23
– Richard’s age on his birthday today, April 5, 2012.
30
– Hwy 30A – Watercolors and Seaside Resorts are now overrun with
pre-teens on foot or bicycle. Rosemary Beach is the winner with
the most well manicured and beautiful seaside community for the rich and well-to-do
folks.
45 – MPH, for most of
this highway – OMG
59
– no regret dollars spent on wonderful dinner for two at Sunset Grill at
Port St. Joe on Florida Hwy 98: super salad, delicious grilled shrimp,
roasted potatoes, steamed beans, and Key Lime Pie.
60 – MPH, at last on
Hwy 98 to Apalachacola, along theForgotten Coast.
This is like Florida used to be – rural, travel courts, small family cottages
or houses. Someone forgot places to eat and sleep, too.
98
– HWY 98 passes through Tyndall AFB, almost deserted and on in to Mexico
Beach area and other small resort communities. The full moon reflecting
on the Gulf as it laps close to the roadway, at high tide. Watch for Bears – in
Florida. Who knew.
100
– Well worth the money to finally put our heads down at the Hampton Inn in Perry,
FL.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Mexican Train pulls into Mobile (Hampton Inn) Wednesday Night - Day 1 of Coastal Trip
OK, here is the quick version of Wednesday night. After supper, Marvin and I stopped into the hospitality area of the
Hampton Inn located on the Battleship/Pensacola side of Mobile. We wanted to pick up information on
the USS Alabama and overheard some ladies having fun with dominos. Marvin went over and began the conversation
and one of the ladies demonstrated the “Whoo-whoo” sound that can be chimed by
pressing a domino-button in the center of the board when a player is
blocked or when a new Train is started. The ladies had a Silver “Train
case” for their set and we commented on that. (Gotta get one of those.) Then, I said, “Where are ya’ll from?”
Short story: Bartlett, Tennessee!... and they are mothers and sisters and daughters and friends who travel together. This is a short tripfor them: Bellingrath Gardens, Outlet Malls, and Pensacola since Monday. They have been to Vermont, Yellowstone, and UP of Michigan on previous trips. But, the ultimate small world: After the Bartlett High School connection is made, the party is on.
One of the ladies, Julia Frost, is in Barbara Polk’s Sunday School class. For those readers unfamiliar with Bartlett HS, Barbara is the perennial Queen of Everything at BHS. I told Mrs. Frost to tell Barbara she saw Jane and Jane and Marvin were on their way to see Cindy. Another lady is the mom of Bartlett graduate Julie Mullinex and knows lots and lots of Bartlett students.
So, now, in addition to the young couple from Chicago that we met at a Mississippi Rest Stop (all of which get 4 Stars for accessibility, cleanliness, design and décor, and safety), we can add four ladies from Shelby County! The Chicago couple drove past us and waved – on their way to New Orleans. The ladies are returning to Memphis tomorrow. They’ll see Barbara on Sunday. I think she'll be surprised!
Short story: Bartlett, Tennessee!... and they are mothers and sisters and daughters and friends who travel together. This is a short tripfor them: Bellingrath Gardens, Outlet Malls, and Pensacola since Monday. They have been to Vermont, Yellowstone, and UP of Michigan on previous trips. But, the ultimate small world: After the Bartlett High School connection is made, the party is on.
One of the ladies, Julia Frost, is in Barbara Polk’s Sunday School class. For those readers unfamiliar with Bartlett HS, Barbara is the perennial Queen of Everything at BHS. I told Mrs. Frost to tell Barbara she saw Jane and Jane and Marvin were on their way to see Cindy. Another lady is the mom of Bartlett graduate Julie Mullinex and knows lots and lots of Bartlett students.
So, now, in addition to the young couple from Chicago that we met at a Mississippi Rest Stop (all of which get 4 Stars for accessibility, cleanliness, design and décor, and safety), we can add four ladies from Shelby County! The Chicago couple drove past us and waved – on their way to New Orleans. The ladies are returning to Memphis tomorrow. They’ll see Barbara on Sunday. I think she'll be surprised!
Sunday, April 1, 2012
What a Weekend!
What a
weekend! March 30-April 1, 2012
TO DO LIST:
Host a Huge
Garage Sale! Check
Entertain
Rich and Maurene! Check
Eat Easter Candy! Half-check
Gnaw on BBQ Ribs and Gobble Catfish! Check, Check
Celebrate
Rich’s April 5th Birthday! Triple Check
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