Catching Up . . .
Okay, it's been a while since my last substantive post.
As I finally settled down to do this, I had a lot of thoughts about what to attribute the hiatus to, but I settled on telling the truth. Here it is.
Actually, the lovely Missus was away for a good bit of time starting the 5th, and between work, feeding the dog, feeding the cats, playing with the dog, explaining to the cats that I didn't love them less than the dog but he was just more fun to play fetch with, and trying to fight the uphill battle that is not letting the house turn into an absolute pig sty while I am alone in it, I just never really had the time to sit down and wax prosetic . . . okay that's probably not a word, but I don't try to be poetic.
Secondly, I did leave Dodge myself for 9 days and traveled to meet up with my wife in Atlanta, then on to Sunny South Georgia to visit the inlaws. This did involve driving for 9 straight hours (okay, I stopped in North Carolina to use the facilities) and arriving in Columbia, SC at 4:30 am at "The Kids" home to sleep before moving on to the big city.
I want to stop here a second and tell you all that I love Georgia. Rural Georgia reminds me of the rural Pennsylvania that was the scene of my youth. This isn't in any way intended as a slight to Georgia, or to imply that they are 40 years behind us in the north. No, in fact, I believe Georgia has it right and I only wish that my home town still possesed the strong bond to the land that Wrightsville, GA has. People there are real, they have real neighbors and they may not agree with your politics, but they are real polite to you.
This is not to say that there aren't some of the old issues floating around there, largely unspoken in mixed company. But for the most part, that is exactly the culture I grew up in. And it just doesn't get better than whiteacre peas, hoe cakes, grits, and fried catfish. Unless, of course, you add a side of turnip greens and some fried chicken and biscuits.
The north needs to learn about these buffets . . .
As we always do, my wife and I discussed the possibility of moving to the area we are visiting, and with the exception that the work I do keeps me in a more urban area, I can see myself winding out the golden years on a back porch looking out over cotton fields.
One of the nicest things about going away, however, is coming home. And the cats seem to have forgotten the whole fetch thing, so I guess we're okay again.
As I finally settled down to do this, I had a lot of thoughts about what to attribute the hiatus to, but I settled on telling the truth. Here it is.
Actually, the lovely Missus was away for a good bit of time starting the 5th, and between work, feeding the dog, feeding the cats, playing with the dog, explaining to the cats that I didn't love them less than the dog but he was just more fun to play fetch with, and trying to fight the uphill battle that is not letting the house turn into an absolute pig sty while I am alone in it, I just never really had the time to sit down and wax prosetic . . . okay that's probably not a word, but I don't try to be poetic.
Secondly, I did leave Dodge myself for 9 days and traveled to meet up with my wife in Atlanta, then on to Sunny South Georgia to visit the inlaws. This did involve driving for 9 straight hours (okay, I stopped in North Carolina to use the facilities) and arriving in Columbia, SC at 4:30 am at "The Kids" home to sleep before moving on to the big city.
I want to stop here a second and tell you all that I love Georgia. Rural Georgia reminds me of the rural Pennsylvania that was the scene of my youth. This isn't in any way intended as a slight to Georgia, or to imply that they are 40 years behind us in the north. No, in fact, I believe Georgia has it right and I only wish that my home town still possesed the strong bond to the land that Wrightsville, GA has. People there are real, they have real neighbors and they may not agree with your politics, but they are real polite to you.
This is not to say that there aren't some of the old issues floating around there, largely unspoken in mixed company. But for the most part, that is exactly the culture I grew up in. And it just doesn't get better than whiteacre peas, hoe cakes, grits, and fried catfish. Unless, of course, you add a side of turnip greens and some fried chicken and biscuits.
The north needs to learn about these buffets . . .
As we always do, my wife and I discussed the possibility of moving to the area we are visiting, and with the exception that the work I do keeps me in a more urban area, I can see myself winding out the golden years on a back porch looking out over cotton fields.
One of the nicest things about going away, however, is coming home. And the cats seem to have forgotten the whole fetch thing, so I guess we're okay again.
posted by (jim) Bo Ba Log at 2:33 PM
2 Comments:
was good to see you guys over the past 2 weekends. i look forward to the next visit w/ you guys. i'm sure you're glad to be home though. it's always nice to be back safe and sound.
No, actually, I'd rather be back in GA, and see y'all for another weekend. It's freakin' cold here! Ånd I have to work.. and feed the cats... and change the cat litter.. and walk the dogs (yes, dogs, because we're watching someone else's dog for the week).. and cook. Well, you get the idea. Vacation is definitely over!
Post a Comment
<< Home