Enjoying the journey

Travelling through central Georgia from Tifton to Columbus, I utilized Highway 82 to make a quick trip of it. Everything seemed very green from the recent rains. A multiplicity of greens rivaling Ireland in its lushness. There are a number of these four lanes across the agricultural center of our state, and signs for tomatoes and onions and peas and beans and every kind of locally grown vegetable and fruit. Then the promise of peaches and pecans in their season. Peanuts and melons. The fruits of the crimson Georgia clay. This is the sweet season in Georgia. Azaleas in bloom. Creamy dogwood blossoms. The lavender whisteria hanging from the trees in our backyard. The temperatures are moderate. Cool in the morning, warm in the afternoon. I blew down the highway and landed in Columbus about thirty minutes late. Not bad for a journey which was supposed to take me about fortyfive minutes longer. I was flying low below radar, apparently. I am glad I didn't see too many policecars along the way. That would have been an unpleasant interlude in an otherwise enjoyable afternoon. It ended with a tall amber beer and a chicken sandwich in front of two large screen televisions showing the Braves beating the Nationals in Atlanta and the Brooklyn Nets beating the Chicago Bulls in Brooklyn. Just another jaunt through the Springtime darkness between Columbus and Griffin, one and one half hours to home.

Watching crazy Americans running through the capital of Germany

Cindy and I had stopped watching The Amazing Race on Sunday nights. Listening to the contestants as they maneuvered the journeys around the world became boresome. I was tired of hearing their schemes and their problems and whining. But tonight was different. We went back to last week's episode, the one we missed on our journey from Bayou Lacombe, Louisiana across the coast of Mississippi to Mobile and up through the darkness of South Alabama to a motel room just east of Montgomery. What a long, unpleasant journey, losing an hour because of an accident on I-10 and an hour in Wentzell's Oyster House on the north side of Mobile for our last Gulf Coast seafood supper for awhile. Boy did I eat a lot of seafood in those four or five days. Anyway, it just so happened that last week's episode sent the contestants from Switzerland to Dresden, Germany and on to Berlin. I have always wanted to visit Berlin. Despite the negative connotations, I have always wanted to visit Berlin. So much history. So much meaning for my world. I am a child of the 50's. I was born before the creation of the Berlin Wall became a physical symbol of the chasm between the East and the West, Russia and the United States. I could sit in my room and dread the dropping of atomic bombs and the quick end of our world, but the concrete and barbed wire and machine guns and soldiers. The grey and brown and lack of color. But now it includes an end to that struggle and the joy of freedom that led the people to dance and sing and drink and chant and take sledge hammers to the wall and destroy that terrible symbol of an inability to communicate and get along. What joy. What a moment of release and fun and victory over the desire to control people through force. Anyway, we watched the episode and you could see a modern, vibrant city which seems to have overcome its black history. I want to go and see myself. I want to place a physical connection to the history of the twentieth century and the ultimate victory of peace and freedom and joy. I want to go. I can't wait. Tonight was just a taste.

Sunday afternoon rain and an impending trip to Apalachicola

It rained last night and the thunder and lightning woke the dog and sent him on an excursion upstairs and around the living room, barking. I am not quite sure what he was looking for, but he left a trail of doggy droppings through the living room. I found them when I stepped on one of them in the darkness trying to find the dog. Cindy put the dog in bed with us and I cleaned up the trail. One of those lovely perks of dog ownership. Or ownership by the dog. We woke up late this morning and I was only able to go to church. Cindy stayed home. She was at the table on the backporch, grading papers. The dog was on his bed in the kitchen staring out at Cindy on the backporch. It was beginning to rain again when I got home. It has been raining ever since. Almost eight o'clock pm and I finally found the way into my blog. I hope I will be able to continue. It is quite a comfort. Cindy and I are going to a closing I have in Camilla on Friday, to be followed by a weekend trip to Apalachicola. I am looking forward to more seafood and sunshine and maybe some time in the water at the beach on St. George. There is nothing better than crossing over the bridge from East Point to St. George, watching the oystermen plying their trade on the waters of Apalachicola Bay. The last natural oyster beds in North America. A great place.

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.