Christmas is coming

I drove from Warner Robins back home to Griffin in the twilight. The orange of the western sky backlit the trees that I passed on the road. I was following the tail lights of trucks as my goal. Its a week and two days from Thanksgiving and people are already putting up their Christmas trees and lights. As I drove into Griffin from my trip to Luthersville, I could see the beginnings of Christmas lights in the cool of the evening. This time of year is one of my favorites around here. The leaves are beginning to drop from the trees. Night comes earlier. I can see the silhouette of the trees against the twilight. Driving around the state, I feel warm and comforted in my car. Tonight, I drove west toward Luthersville. Traffic slowed in Tunis because a deer decided to cross the highway in the dim light and was hit by a car. When I passed the scene, the deputy sheriffs were standing in the creeping darkness, staring at the carcus in the road, like mourners at a funeral. Later, I arrived at the borrower's house. It was an old farmhouse on the side of the road outside of Luthersville. It reminded me of our old farm in Clarksville. White-washed wood siding, wood plank back porch. I joined the borrowers in their country kitchen, at the old wooden table. Later, we said our goodbyes and I disappeared into the darkness. I drove through the darkness, ill-lit by driveway lights and the absence of a moon. I drove back into the comfort of streetlights in Griffin. As I drove past the track, I saw the unlit Christmas lighting. The magic is coming.

Election Day

It is raining this morning. The wind is blustery enough to make umbrellas foolish. The maples and oaks are showing their oranges and yellows. You can hear the cars splashing the rainwater collected on the street. I have my lamps lit in my office to battle the blues. Today is election day. The candidates who have not yet given up are still beating their chests and spewing their hyperbole to crowds gathered in states where rain is not the day's offering. They say that there will be more weather in the Mid Atlantic states. They opine that it may effect the voting patterns on this day. It is easy to feel like your vote means nothing in an electorate which is vast, diverse and so easily swept by the whims of advertising, jingles and marketing. I know a lot of people who are not registered to vote. Some have never been registered to vote. Some feel like its a worthless exercise. Others don't feel like there is anything worth voting for. Some are so pessimistic that they don't see the point. There are so many places on this earth where leadership is chosen for you. Monarchies, dictatorships, oligarchies, places caught in rebellion where voting is dangerous, even deadly. But voting and serving on juries is the primary way in which we can show each other that we have a choice in how our lives are run. My father once told me he wanted the ability to choose a candidate, rather than voting for the lesser of two evils. I would argue that voting for the lesser of two evils is better than no choice at all. Otherwise, we have no one to blame than ourselves when things go wrong. We are two hundred and thirty some odd years divorced from when our choices were made for us by royalty or the peerage. For some of us, that span of time is even shorter, women, minorities, recent citizens. I, perhaps, can understand the forgetfulness of a white male who has never known anything other than the free will afforded our system of government. For those for whom elections are brand new exercises of our rights, it is less understandable. There have been so many battles. In the first national elections the right to participate was limited to people like me: white, male property owners. Two hundred years later, the valuable asset is spread to a wider group. We should be proud to vote today. So many people before us have argued, contended, marched and died for that simple privilege.

First Monday in November, 2012

It is a grey day outside my window. Inside too. The most excitement occurred when a semi drove down College Street, which is a lot of vehicle for such a narrow street. I am supposed to have two closings this evening, but we don't have documents for either loan closing. As the day drags toward darkness, the possibility of closing becomes slimmer and slimmer. On the other hand, you can expect a call to let you know that the documents have arrived and can I drive two hours up into North Georgia for a closing at 9:30? Can I? Will I? Do I want too? I think I know the answer to that last question. This week appears to be a week, where, if I get my sleep, I might be able to catch up on some work needed. I am so tired. This past weekend, we drove up to Dunwoody and I escorted Momma and Cindy to the Marist Christmas arts and crafts show. Later, after the end of the Georgia Old Miss game, we drove up to Roswell and ate supper at Inc., a Mexican taco truck restaurant. It was fun to be out among them. On Sunday, Cindy cooked supper and I drove around assembling ingredients and we celebrated Momma's 80th birthday a day early. It was fun to get together with everybody. The Falcons are 8-0 and Georgia is one victory over Auburn away from playing in the SEC championship again against Alabama. Washington and Lee clinched the ODAC football championship. That means another trip to the NCAA's for my alma mater. Tomorrow is Election Day. Wednesday is Agony Day for a little less than half the population. Its so big we even have a line in the bookmaking shops in England. Everybody has an opinion. Few have a vote.

Fall Weather

Autumn is on the wing. This afternoon I picked Cindy up at Southern Crescent Tech and the outside thermometer in her car read 75. For the middle of September, that ain't bad. We had several days of rain which cooled everything off and a cold front came down from the northwest. Next month will be the Spalding County Fair and then Halloween. Too bad the Galloways are going to another church. It used to be fun to go out to their property around Halloween and have a big bonfire and chili and pass candy out to the kids. I would like to go to a football game this fall, but I can't seem to get anyone interested or available. Lately, Cindy and I have been spending a lot of time in Dunwoody with Momma. We have the plans for the new back porch and I am looking forward to the completion of that. I think it will be fun to sit out there in the cool weather and enjoy the outdoors. It is good to get this rolling again.

I'm back

Finally, I am back. It has been so long since I wrote anything on this blog that I completely forgot how to get on. I still don't know how to get on, but I found my way back. That is some small accomplishment. Perhaps, at this point I can get back on regularly and not lose my path. Blogging is not for the old and infirm.

The end of day

Amid the confusion of the day, I stopped trying to fight the promptings of a calendar, and let the final task of day take me on a journey down US 19 I found broad, four-lane pathway cut between the furrowed pastureland, until the sun had died over toward Columbus. I found relaxation wishing for peace in the growing darkness, following the last business of the day. Coming home, retracing my steps, the purebred not that long that I could not enjoy the ride through the farmland bathed in moonlight.

Odd Winter afternoon

It got colder today after a cold front came through last night. The wind was blowing hard this morning. Last night we met John and Debbie at LaTavolo in Virginia Highlands. The food was very good and the service was very good as well. Cindy and I shared a bottle of Montepuciano. We had a nice supper with friends and then walked down to Poulo's for gelato. We got back home late and I went to bed while Cindy watched Saturday Night Live. This morning it was hard to wake up. I was planning on making steel cut oatmeal this morning but made myself a pastrami sandwich on rye . An odd breakfast I suppose, but col fits are common breakfast material in Germany. Afterward, I went to church and Cindy and I spent the day predominantly indoors, trying to avoid the cold. This has been an odd Winter. It seems like the world is tipsy turvey this year.

The boys in the neighborhood

Frank and I attended David Balfour's memorial service this morning at Peachtree Presbyterian Church in Atlanta. Mr. Balfour didn't recognize us at first. Referring to myself as Tom Baynham didn't help. After he remembered us, he immediately referred to me as "Tommy".

According to a story Scott told about his little brother, David led him to a saving relationship with Jesus in a bar in downtown Atlanta. He asked him, after visiting three or four bars, what made him, a Christian, any different than the rest of the partiers in the bars. Quite ironic that David's middle name was Andrew.

I have been thinking about those happy days in Dunwoody, when we were kids and young adults. The Balfours had a tree house where we used to meet and talk and play with snakes or insects or whatever we might find. It was a big group of boys, all around the same age. We played football and baseball in our front yard and in the grassy median of the cul de sac behind our house. We played football and baseball at Murphy Candler. A couple of those years, I played with David. A couple years I played with Scott. On the championship Atlanta Colts 115 pound team in 1970, Scott and I were the right side of the offensive line. Later, David and I played for Dunwoody High School together for one year. My last year at Dunwoody, I got to play with Frank in one momentous game against Chamblee High. I would have liked to have played more with him.

I recalled a story just a second ago. The boys in the neighborhood were all gathered in the front yard, shooting bottle rockets into the night sky. One big one flew over toward a house across the street and exploded behind the house. Everybody scattered. Frank, David and I ended up sliding on the den floor into a grouping with Mom and Dad and Susan. Panting like puppies, we feigned watching the program on the tv. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. My dad got up and answered it. The neighbor across the street was complaining about the Baynham boys shooting off fireworks and one exploding in their kitchen window while the family was eating supper.

My dad asked how many boys there were. The neighbor replied "ten or twelve". My dad answered, "I only have two boys." He closed the door.

I remembered staring wide eyed into David's face and both of us laughing. I guess David went home soon thereafter. We had a lot of fun in that neighborhood.

Locked Doors

A tall brick wall, too high to climb safely
Was constructed by some errant mason
Between my thoughts and my memories
One Autumn slumber
When hard-pressed by the getting and spending
I lost touch with my recent past
And could not lay claim to my self again.

Thus, life became fragile,
A tattered tapestry
Hung in a darkened ante-chamber,
So close, yet the doorway
Slowly bricked up like that of Poe's victim,
Bereft of the promises
And that last sweet taste of Amontillado.

Crackles in the dark

Is it a problem when I go out into the darkness of 11:30 in my pajamas to let the dog do his business? So far, no complaints. Tonight, I expected it to be quite chilly when I left the house. For the past few evenings the wind has been whipping around the corners of the house, shaking the storm windows, moaning like a banshee.

But tonight, I took Tex out expecting to see the coming of the precipitation. Instead, the night was silent like a snowfall. I came back in and told Cindy that if it were about thirty degrees cooler I could see it snowing. Of course, it is not thirty degrees cooler. We would have to travel up to Blairsville for that tonight. And it may not happen anyway.

I have been pleased because my laptop has been receiving my wifi for two days in a row. I think I finally figured out the problem. This allows me to write my blog, so you can blame it on my technical abilities. I'll let Kate attest to that.

It was a dark, still night in the neighborhood tonight. No dogs barking from down the street. No shade tree mechanics revving their engines. Instead, the clouds blanketed the atmosphere above the pines and everything was silence.

So quiet that I could hear the dog pee.

Cold Saturday

Winter arrived about two months late today. It is going down into the twenties this evening, or early morning. Tonight we joined a portion of the Galloways for supper at a Mexican restaurant in Griffin. Afterward, we drove over to Kroger and I bought more meat for the pot of soup I prepared this afternoon. The soup was heavy on broth, vegetables and barley, but light on beef. Since we call it "Beef Barley Soup", it would need a preponderence of beef to meet the name's requirements.

Today, I went into work and ran some errands before going home and settling in to an afternoon of soup-making and watching "Desperado" on the television before the evening came to the feasting time.

Tonight, I hope to go to bed soon and wake up in enough time to make stone cut oatmeal and eat it with my orange juice and my Irish Breakfast tea.

I am watching "The Vicar of Dibley" with Cindy. The characters are fighting over what is appropriate in church and who is in charge. This episode is hitting fairly close to heart. We are so propriatory of our churches. It is the oldest fuss in the church. Overall, it is ultimately a blessing that Jesus is actually in charge.I suppose we must remember that.

The vagaries

It has been some time since I wrote on this blog. I have not thought often about writing something. Which is sad. I had this computer upstairs at home and found that the wireless router did not reach its signal to Kate's room from our bedroom. I brought the laptop down and fixed the problem. Fixed. Right. Anyway, I need to write on this from time to time. My wellbeing is supported by it.

I think I will start again on Wednesday. I have been travelling quite a bit for a number of months to do refinance loan closings at the homes of borrowers. The lenders seem to want me to travel to Warner Robins or Columbus quite often, with trips to various hamlets, villages and such in between. I seem to know every little village in Muscogee and Houston counties these days. Like the back of my hand. And various ways to get in and out from there at various times of day.

I like driving. I don't particularly enjoy the driving at night with my eyes near blinded by headlights and the drowsiness of the end of day. I will continue to try. It is regular money at a time when regular money is not easy to find.