Are We Having Fun Yet?

A million years ago, I wrote the gossip column for the Eastern Shore News and the Spanish Fort Bulletin. I figured out a thousand ways to say "And a good time was had by all". The heading was "Happening Along the Shore" and it pretty much was who did what on vacation, got married and who was having a party. Sometimes in desperation I would wish happy birthdays and anniversaries or tell who got a new car.  Small town papers will print anything.  It was a time in my life when often I was the center of the gossip and to be honest, it didn't bother me at all. One friend used to say the only thing worst than saying something bad about you was saying nothing at all.  And we along the shore lived that way. My life in Daphne and my shop in Fairhope, Alabama, were not only beautiful but always filled with friends, family, and suitors.  I am the person they were talking about when they said "she had more boyfriends than you can shake a stick at". I still don't know what that means, but I do know I didn't suffer for a date or a kiss.  I wonder sometimes if this is God's way of punishing me for having so much fun then or if its just a really bad practical joke on his part and any day now we'll get to the punch line. We'll all have a good laugh and things will be better.  Anyway, now I don't know any gossip and  if I did, it would not be about me.  My life is so calm that there are days when I almost take an afternoon nap.  For the next couple of weeks though that is about to change. First the thrift store where I volunteer had a yard sale.  Now I know that for many of you  that does not sound exciting or in any way worthy of a gossip column but in Pickens County, Georgia, its front page news.  Our little Pickens Animal Rescue - PAR - brought in almost $800 this past Saturday.  That's a whole lots of dog biscuits.  And we did it the hard way, dimes and quarters.  A hundred people must have stopped by.  Some even came back for a second time late in the day. Yard-selling is big business in Jasper and almost any Saturday in the Spring or Fall you'll find hand lettered signs on every corner.  Most will be falling over or have loppy ears but you can usually tell in which direction the arrow is pointing.  This past weekend I bet there were 20 in our small town including ours and the Episcopalians.  The Episcopalians added food and music to theirs so while it may have been better attended, I don't believe they could have had more stuff.  This next weekend will the be Marble Festival.  Yes, Marble.  Jasper is the Marble Capital of Georgia.  I know that doesn't sound like much but its the only place outside of Italy where you can get pink marble.  And we also have wonderful wineries.  Pink marble and wine, its just like Italy.  You gotta' love this place.   I'm sure my next blogs will be about all the excitement of the Festival and then later you can read about the leaves turning and the apples growing ripe and all the festivals that celebrate them.  So here' my first submission of "What's Happening Along Hwy 515", no shore but a lot of snore.

Have Another Bite?

Once again, I have bitten off more than I can chew.  In my excitement to make my purchase of the generator and elevate my worries about the impending winter, I failed to realize that it was the beginning of a process and not the end of one.  First I discovered that it would not be delivered until 5 days later.  That seemed to be no problem since there were no storms on the horizon and I didn't even know how to work the darn thing. Five days later the phone rings and Home Depot tells me my generator has arrived and I can pick it up at my convenience.  I am thrilled.  Finally I will not have to worry about fall storms or winter isolation and I will have lights in the mist of all the chaos.  I arrived to discovered that three young strong men are needed to put the thing in my car.  It fits, but just barely. The last words I heard as I drove away were "You know that thing is gonna' hurt your gas mileage if you don't get it out of there pretty soon".  That's been a week.  I can't get it out of the car.  I have invited people to dinner. Asked my son-in-law to tea. Talked sweet to a man who is not for me and still "No go".  Tomorrow I will be forced to pay someone to get the fool thing out of my car. Then pay them some more to hook it up, show me what to do, and flip my mattress.  While here I will get my roof cleaned off and gutters un-stuck up and start preparing for the fall and winter which bring so many changes to the mountains.  I think of how the women of the frontier survived often alone in a desolate and unfriendly environment.  Indian raids, mountain lions, illness. As I hurry out the door to Kroger, carrying my gas can, wearing designer jeans and plenty of bling, now only getting l8 miles per gallon of gas, I know I have the stuff they were made of, pure stubbornness and possibly bad judgment.  But tomorrow, in the words of Scarlet O'Hara, a true Southern Frontier woman,  "As God is my witness, I shall never go without lights again".

If a Tree Falls in the Forest????

Preparing for my Winter Wonderland

I have figured out, un-scientifically of course, the age old question as to whether there is a sound in the forest if a tree falls and no one is around to hear it.  The answer is yes.  And the sound is the sound of hundreds of gas powered generators cranking up in the subdivision in which I live. And a tree falls every week. And usually right on top of a power line.  I can not answer why Amicalola Power Company would not have run the lines underground since the technology was available and the trees were in abundance. To me that that seems to be more in question than the sounds that are not being heard in the forest from falling trees and certainly more relevant to my life.  As you know,  I live in "the woods".  Surrounded by trees as old as the mountain I live on.  The trees have been stressed out, almost as much as me, by the continued drought that has plagued much of the South. This has left many of the tall pines and hardwoods in a weakened state and  ready to topple.  Let a thunder storm brew up or a tornado get in our area and down goes a tree or a branch large enough to crush a car. Or ten such branches.  Last week I sat in the dark for 5 hours.  I arrived home from work tired, hungry and eager to sit down with a nice dinner and watch TV only to find my neighborhood streets very dark.  Most of the houses I passed had limited lights on, open garage doors and the very familiar hum of the generators. In the winter everyone on my street either has one of those contraptions or leaves for the Florida.   Some of the houses even have the fancy kind that come on automatically and are tied into the electrical system of the entire house.  I don't have a generator.  Or at least didn't have one.  This was going to be the third winter that I had suffered through without the benefit of a generator but all that changed for me on Friday.  I put a call into my own personal ATM machine.  My ex husband.  I am at a loss to explain why he does these things for me.  Guilt.  Left over feelings of love.  Terrible remorse.  Who knows?  But now when the winds blow and the trees fall, I will go outside, pull up my garage door, get out my generator and join in the chorus of a steady if not deafening hum of the many generators on my street.  I am a little concerned that I will not be able to afford the gas to run the generator should things continue as they are, nor that I will be strong enough to crank the generator, nor even smart enough to figure out how to get it out of the huge box and set it up but I have a generator.  I am now officially a mountain woman.  Self sufficient and prepared for any weather disaster.  I wish they would make a generator for my dating life.  Now that would be worth the price of the gas.

9/11

Often we heard stories from our parents and others of their generation retelling their experiences on the day of Pearl Harbor or the end of WWII, VE or VJ Dy.  They remember that day, what they were doing, where they were, the feelings that they had.  I think for our generation and maybe for our children's Nine-Eleven will be that kind of experience.  It will be a day, one we will remember with details and feelings.  I can remember that morning was so beautiful and my "late" husband, late as in last, walked early and had not heard the news.  We commented on how quiet it seemed that morning not understanding that was a indication of what was happening in New York and Pennsylvania.   It was a silence that we experienced while others died and lived with more tragedy, surrounded by noise and anguish that we can only imagine.  When we turned on the news after the walk, we were completely shocked at the tragedy unfolding before our eyes.  A neighbor came over just as the first tower fell. I believe she came not just to ask if we were watching but I will always feel it was to find some comfort that we were home and she was not alone in all the sorrow.  Later that evening we sat in our hot tub on top of a mountain in Wetumpka and watched a dark sky. Usually planes making their approach or leaving the Atlanta airspace were visible.  That evening though was totally quiet, totally black.  I know that those are experiences that for many will never be forgotten, for many others we will do all we can to forget.  Tragedy and sorrow are difficult feelings to hold on to.  They make us scared and uncomfortable.  But if we refuse to embraced the sorrow of life, then we also choose to embrace the beauty of it. Life is two sided, all religions, all psychology teaches this.  Our personal tragedies seem small when the tragedy of mankind is examined and the world is viewed in its entirety.   My personal problems seem so unimportant in comparison to what happened that day. But they are mine and after this weekend, they will overwhelm me just as they have in the past. For a few days though, I can view them as inconsequential and petty.  My thoughts and prayers are with all of you in this time of remembrance.