South

Food / South — 2 Comments
31
Jan 12

Squatter’s Rights on a table and the Eager Beaver.

He just tried to snake my salad.

UGH.

The overeager, overachieving bus person had his hand on my salad bowl.

“Excuse me,” I said looking first at his hand and then to his face. “I’m not done yet.”

You want to freak somebody out….

that freaked out eager-beaver table cleaner.

Having time to kill in Athens, I decided to work and treat myself to lunch. I don’t do this ever for I am a good curb-excess-spending wife and mother.

And this guy was trying to take my salad.

Don’t come between a woman and her salad. One that is a treat she rarely enjoys. (Don’t come between me and any food actually.)

Clearly, I had hardly been here 30 minutes and though the restaurant was busy, no one was waiting for a table.

I was abiding by all the establishment’s login “thou shalts” as I understood them. And besides, this was a treat. He wanted me to rush through my ice cream sundae with sprinkles. (Well, my theoretical ice cream sundae.)

I figured an hour was fair enough for a ten dollar purchase.

The Beaver didn’t think so.

I’m bugging the poo out of him and he’s a little shaken. I see him as he furiously sweeps under the tables around me.

Close. But not too close.

It’s not fair that the woman across from me has sat there with her lunch companion — not eating, talking away – longer than I and he hasn’t reached for her bowl.

Clearly, my equal rights under the 14th Amendment as it applies to large franchise eateries with free WiFi had been violated.

No, there’s safety in numbers. The Beaver only looks for the lone pathetic woman (having a wonderful time) to try to hurry out the door.

 

 

He did until he found out this one bites.

Or gives a slightly threatening growl.

A grr.  

He must have found some other patron to torment for haven’t seen him in a while.

Okay, time for me to go.

Pity.

Ever squat on a table? Either by yourself doing work or talking with friends?

 

 

Fitness / Georgia / Running — 2 Comments
24
Jan 12

ZOOMA Atlanta Half Marathon and 5K. #Running, Resorts and Relaxation.

I’m a goal-oriented person.

Setting goals (like New Year’s resolutions) gives me a desired target to aim for….and the feeling of accomplishment when I meet the challenge.

Everyone came into this world wired-differently, but it seems like a pretty common resolution (the voracious blog reader that I am) was to put more emphasis on good health and fitness in 2012.

And if you are within a drive of Atlanta have I got a great challenge for you.

 

The ZOOMA Atlanta Half Marathon & 5K  this coming April 22 at Lake Lanier Island Resort.

If you’ve always desired to train and run that first race — ZOOMA gives you everything you need.

The ZOOMA Women’s Race Series has been around since 2007. This year they will hold races in destination locations including: Austin, Texas, Annapolis, Cape Cod, the Great Lakes and ATL-GA.

They’ve got a great website and interactive Facebook page.

Brae Blackley the ZOOMA series founder, is a mom of young children. She gave up a high-powered corporate law practice to pursue her passion of inspiring women to live healthy, active lives and have FUN in the process.

As a gal that’s been around the 13.1 block a few times, so many things impress me about ZOOMA.

* The races are smaller with limits on registrations.

* They select running Ambassadors in each location who devote their time to spreading the good word about ZOOMA, encouraging registrants of all levels and leading weekly training runs.

* Access to advance copy on training for Half and 5K distances from Train Like a Mother, the upcoming book from Sarah Bowen Shea and Dimity McDowell authors of Run Like a Mother. 

*  They encourage runners to come out early to the expo and spend the night at the great resort before the race. Relaxing with friends enjoying their accommodations.

*  Did I mention the After Race Party with great venue by the lake, music, your friends and Barefoot Wine & Bubbly? Can you say FUN?

There is nothing like crossing the finish line. You should feel proud!

I’d be happy to discuss more of the details about the race with you. Just leave a comment and I’ll e-mail back.

Come out to the Big Atlanta Kick Off Party, this Saturday morning, January 28 from 8:30 to 11. The event at the Big Peach Running Company on Peachtree Road in Buckhead — will have lots of info, swag and you can meet some of the Atlanta race Ambassadors. And look for some thing cute to train in.

When you sign-up for the race online be sure to use the Discount Code: ATLCON3. You’ll save $10 of the Half registration and $5 on the 5K.

So come-on girlfriends, get your running shoes on.

 

 

Georgia / Running / South / Uncategorized — 4 Comments
21
Jan 12

Just get out of bed. Musing on how to place in your age group.

When was the last time I had a pap smear?

Good grief. Has it been that long? I immediately suppress thoughts of “dog’s dead” scenarios and vow to make an appointment Monday.

I really want a new doctor.

I must get the house under control tomorrow.

Daughter hasn’t practiced piano once all week — for fourth week in a row. And I had done so well, rehabilitating myself as a somewhat competent piano mom in the eyes of her teacher.

Where are my children? Let’s see. One is spending the night out, one is in her bed, the other is on the couch where he fell asleep last night.

I start to pick them off one by one — praying for them.

Finally, I pick up my phone to see what time it is.

3:40 a.m.

Read a few emails, respond to a few emails.

This all goes through my head lying awake in bed.

Then I hear rain.

Ugh. I’ve got to be up and out of bed for the 10.2K (yes, 10.2) in the morning.

Finally, I pop an herbal sleep aid lozenge on my tongue and guess I go back to ZZZZZ.

 *     *      *

I leave my house about 8 a.m., no rain.

Get to race.

Rain.

But in the mercy of the good Lord, it is fairly warm and I dressed in layers.

Because my hormonally-challenged bod goes from cold to “I’VE GOT TO RIP ALL THESE CLOTHES OFF”  in like nanoseconds.

It was a good race. Lots of rain.

Toward the end I passed two men, younger than me. We exchanged pleasantries.

Or so I thought.

They were talking so loud that I could tell where they were behind me.

When we passed Mile Marker 6, one of them learns from his friend that this race is a 10.2 K.

“That’s another quarter mile. I’d rather crumple and die here than run another quarter mile,” the one says to the other.

But rather than crumpling into a heap, those chatty bast*rds passed me on the last hill.

(Not fair. They made me laugh weakening my body’s ability to stay ahead of their younger men-selves.)

But looky, looky.

 

I love small races.

What about you? What about small races in the rain?

 

 

 

 

South — 3 Comments
20
Nov 11

Musing on Sunday School. Laura Margaret I’ve got your back.

As child, did you go to Sunday School?

No. That’s not the right question.

Maybe the way to approach this would be to ask…as an adult, have you ever taught children’s Sunday School?

Help.

Meet Laura Margaret Burbach. I’ve blogged about her before, but one thing you might not know about this special high school senior is that she teaches the Kindergarten – Second Grade class every week at church.

 

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I taught three-year-old Sunday School class at Peachtree Road Methodist. Actually it was more like Children’s Church during the eleven o’clock service.

There I learned two things.

* If you teach, your child will then become possessed a demon vomiting pea soup. (And be the only child that has to be sent out to sit in the hall.)

* And if you continue to feed your young charges, they sit there quietly. I don’t know how many Sunday lunches I ruined by letting children stuff themselves with Cheez-Its. But I didn’t care.

 

  *    *    *

Today they acted up a little. But for the most part, they were just cute kids learning about Joseph and how he provided grain for the nation of Israel.

 

 

Look at this hair....love it.

 

 

Then it was time to make some Thanksgiving napkin holders.

I tried real hard to stay in the lines when coloring my Indian corn.

This was Sydney's. She was quite the perfectionist corn colorer.

 

It was taking Sydney a long time. She asked if I could help her.

I said, “No way.” I had my own napkin holders for Thanksgiving dinner to worry about. Where did she think I was? Church?

 

Working away...

 

 

 

Done.

Laura Margaret had to leave early to head to Atlanta for the Georgia Youth Assembly.

I only let go of her ankle  halfway down the hall after the sight of me sobbing and pleading “Don’t leave” was upsetting the babies in the nursery.

So with her gone, I entertained the kiddies with a rousing game of Thanksgiving charades.

They loved it.

I had them spellbound.

But the best surprise of the day was how good my son acted.

He actually said he loved having me there and wants me to come every Sunday.

I don’t think so. I think I kind of peaked today.

Thanks Laura Margaret for volunteering your time with the kids each week.

Do you teach Sunday School? What are any tips…rather than just keeping them eating?

Georgia / South / Uncategorized — No Comments
21
Oct 11

Musing on collegiate theatre. Might I have been a thespian?

Today I travelled to Milledgeville to talk with Karen Berman, Chair and Artistic Director of the Georgia College and State University Theatre Department.

Milledgeville, has so much history. I need to poke around another day — especially want to visit Andalusia, estate home of Flannery O’Connor.

But not today, for I visited…

 

How cool is that…a theatre department in an old restored theater.

 

 *     *     *

 

As we talked, I thought how great it would have been to have studied theater along with creative writing.

Oh dear. I’m starting to sound like an ancient person.

But something about walking along a college campus makes me want to study again. (Not take exams mind you. But go to class and learn things.)

Soon my son will be heading off to college.

Do we — those privileged to go on to higher education — realize what an incredible time this is?

Okay.

I knew.

 

 

Walking the sidewalks of younger, higher educated minds, I turned and saw these incredible oaks.

 

 

And then I noticed this.

 

Azaleas blooming. Isn’t that odd for October 21st?

I guess reality is suspended in college.

Also confirmation that I am approaching old person status because no 20 year old is going to notice that a flippin’ flower is blooming.

I wanted to stay around and soak up that only-worry-is-a-lit-exam mindset but son called and said he needed the car.

So I said good-bye to the me-who-might-have-studied-playwriting and got this middle-aged rear back to Madison.

Road trip!

Do you feel that way on college campuses?

All slightly sentimental and wondering where the time went….

Georgia / South / The garden — 6 Comments
6
Oct 11

Musing on planting a fall garden. Lofton and Me.

“What are you doin’ with that camera? You’re always taking pictures.”

“Lofton. I have a blog. Do you know what a blog is?”

He nodded affirmative.

 

Today was the day. The winter garden was going in so naturally I was snapping pictures.

Lofton and his brother Charles did the honors. Because frankly, preparing and planting my little space of God’s Green Acre is a lot harder than I ever imagined when I decided to “become one with the land” a few springs ago.

A fall, till killer-frost garden, basically has greens.

Collards, mustards, turnips, chard, lettuces and my personal favorite.

Of all the things I have planted summer or fall  (well, of all the things Lofton has planted and I have tended) broccoli is my favorite. A true southern gal should say something like tomatoes or butter beans, but I never lie to you. Even if it breaks with my southern “brand.”

I love brocoli and if you’ve ever seen it grow it is GLORIOUS. (But that is another post.)

When I told Lofton about the blogging part, he did this.

Charles was worrying that I was going to put their picture in the paper.

 

No. Just my blog.

Last year, I ended up with lots of greens, much more than I could eat.

My friend Annie, who I met when she knocked on my door to pray for my garden, takes lots and cooks them for other folks.

My motto: my garden is your garden. But don’t go messin’ too much with my brocoli.

 

Race in a small town is a funny thing.  Or maybe it’s the most natural thing in the world? Differences, I mean. Why does being the same, but different have to be a bad thing?

When in Atlanta, we lived in an in-town neighborhood insulated and surrounded with lots of urban, upper-middle class, most-likely-liberal, feeling enlightened folks.

In a small town,

white/black, doin’-okay/doin’-not-so-great,

live side-by-side. Or block-by-block.

I know some folks say one thing and hold another in their heart.

But I can’t fix people.

Lofton and I are cool.

He doesn’t always understand me. I don’t always understand him.

But we understand the garden and

 that white or black —

doin’-okay or doin’-not-so-great —

we care about each other.

 

My garden’s planted. A bit late, steeping with chicken manure, but we got us a garden.

How about you? Do you grow anything in the fall?

 

Georgia / South — 16 Comments
14
Sep 11

Musing on Plants I killed this Summer. #PPP

 

One of my favorite people and renown (in these parts) Master Gardner, Flossie Dodge asked if she could put one of these large placards in my yard.

The Morgan County Master Gardeners are having a plant sale to raise money for projects — one being a heirloom medicinal garden (funky medicine plants from last century) at Madison’s Heritage Hall.

As fellow Magnolia Garden Club member, I was thrilled to help out.

There are Master Gardeners and then there are people who should be thankful there isn’t a Department for Potted Ferns and Begonia Services.

I’ll try to identify the charred remains of the potted plants decorating my yard.

 

 

A petunia. I think.

 

 

 

No idea. I think too much water killed this. Seriously, I better poke a hole or two in bottom.

 

I think this was Flossie’s favorite.

 

A vinca.

 

No idea what this was.

 

 

To avoid any confusion after looking at these specimens, the sale is NOT AT MY HOUSE weekend after next but on Hancock Street in Madison behind the old jail.

And how did your garden grow this summer?
iPhone Photo Phun

 

 

Georgia / Running / South — No Comments
10
Sep 11

In Memory of Our Fallen Heroes. Fuzz Run Pictorial Muse.

On the eve of the 10th Anniversary of 9/11, I ran the Fuzz Run in Covington.  I saw lots of familiar faces. And lots of small town reverence for public servants who daily put their lives at risk.

And reverence for those who went to work one September morning and never returned home.

So I bumped this post ahead of my regular Saturday @MorganCoHs Friday Night Lights.

Because this was a spectacular day, in our spectacular country — for a lady with a bum right knee and a smart phone camera.

6:30 a.m.

I broke it to Tebow, “I’m going solo.”

Nothing warms my heart like a box of spankin’ new safety pins.

Saw Kim, Dennis, Kingsley and Clark Sitzmann. Got a terribly cute picture of them which I erased. Hate that!

The Sitzmanns ran  this morning in spite of travelling to Monticello last night watching the Bulldogs win.

Woo! <<Stomp feet. Clap hands.>>

I stretched my chronically tight legs….then meandered on.

Another heart-warmer for any runner, a porta potty with no line.

Tons of children showed up for the Fuzz Run Fun Run. Say that six times fast.

Finally, it was time for the 5K to start.

Heard a “Hey, Jamie.”

Beth Coody and Lindsay Peaster (also at the game last night).

In the interest of journalistic integrity over artistic integrity, thought I would share they wore the cutest pink tops.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked around to see Rodney Whittaker darting through the crowd to the front of the pack where he should be. Not back in the Pokey Puppy Pack with me.

That first mile was pretty much uphill, then it was a gradual downhill for most of the race.

After Mile 2, I looked across the crowd and thought “that looks like Terry Massey.” But it couldn’t be the Honorable Terry Massey because this is a footrace.

Saints preserve us. It was he. We ran for a while.

I stopped to take this picture. And he ran by.

See evidence that it was Terry and that he passed me — darn him.

That’s okay. I had about half a mile to catch him.

That is… till I had to stop and take another picture.

Rodney and his son, Blake. Well-rested after finishing an hour and half before me.

Terry finished about 10 seconds ahead of me. (Not that I watched him run under the clock or anything.)

That’s okay, it’s best not to sprint past him and keep on his good side. You never know when I might get a speeding ticket on I-20 through Conyers.

It was great day to be grateful for family, friends and a bad knee that still lets me run on an early fall Saturday morning in September.

Georgia / Life in Madison / Pets — 4 Comments
26
Aug 11

Today’s Muse. Dog Days at the Morgan County Citizen.

Another work day begins at the Citizen.

 

The Morgan County Citizen is going to the dogs. Well, at least today, August 26th, National Dog Day.

Word on the street is that Kathryn Schiliro, Managing Editor of paper, declared today bring-your-dog-to-work-day in celebration of National Dog Day.

When I heard this stupendous news, I couldn’t bear to let my Tebow miss out on all the fun.

Though I decided to hibernate a while from my weekly newspaper column, I never miss a chance to see old friends at the paper.

And I never picked up my 2011 Georgia Press Association (GPA) award.

 

 

 

 

 

Hmm. It still says 2nd Place.

After the GPA refused to take any of my phone calls asking for a recount of the voting, I feared as much.

Looking at the document, a steady hand and a black Sharpie could fix their obvious mistake.

Kathryn brought her child Holden, a boxer/pit mix.

 

 

Photobucket

 

 

Kathryn never had experienced life with a dog before Holden and seems quite smitten calling him —  the “love of her life.”

Andrea Gable, editor of another Main Street Communications publication, Lake Oconee Living, brought her beauty of a German Shepard, Gus.

 

 

 

 

A chance stop in Bainbridge, Georgia while travelling with her husband and two girls resulted in the addition of two new canine members to their clan. Gus and his sibling, a white Shepard, headed home in the car with her daughters. (My animal lover daughter would say that Andrea is a very nice mommy.)

 

 

Holden greets longtime Citizen staffer Monaray Powers.

 

 

Photobucket

 

I looked for the publisher, Patrick Yost, but he wasn’t in.

Photobucket

Katie Davis Walker was out on assignment, but  Jack, her doberman, made Tebow feel right at home

.

Photobucket

Out in the parking, Mr. Yost pulled in empty handed after searching for hours for Doggie Bags. Alas, no perfect treat could be found.

 (I guess this was due to all the hoopla surrounding National Dog Day.)

He assured me he felt horrible.

And promised send the entire staff with their canine friends to Atlantis in the Bahamas for a week long frolic in their unparalleled Dog Park and Beach Resort — scheduled to open December 2027.

So there it was.

The Dogs’ Day at the Citizen.

Have you ever taken your pet to work?

And like people knew about it…you weren’t hiding him in your purse or anything.

Midlife / South — 18 Comments
24
Aug 11

Today’s Muse. Stairway to the Me I Forgot.

This morning, I chose to walk this path.

To an attic in a house I haven’t lived for ten years.

Someone is moving in and doesn’t want my stuff taking up space.

Some people.

So I strode the teetering path and found many things I had completely forgotten.

 

Completely forgot modeling for this 38 Special album cover.

 

Can show Mom why I haven't entertained for the last 10 years. Who can hostess without a lace apron?

 

Completely unable to find the 2011-2012 Morgan County Primary School Handbook I received last week, I do have the 1998 Peachtree Road Methodist Preschool Handbook. (Excellent condition. I don't think it's been opened.)

 

My hair was that color...naturally? (How did she do that?)

 

I  still have that coat hanging in my closet.

 

The dude I'm hugging above was hiding his "Sexiest Legs" under those acid-washed jeans.

 

 

Another stunner. Handmade Halloween costumes. By my hands. Wonder if Jake could fit his 6'1'' frame into this to trick-or-treat?

 

I found a small index card box with 3x5 cards where I had written a bible verse and the date. Here's the one for today's date 1996.

 

I have no memory of doing that. Did I memorize them? Why the date?

Who was this girl who made Halloween costumes, saved preschool handbooks and wrote bible verses on 3×5 cards. (And where did her lovely handwriting go?)

Alright, I still have a thing for 3×5 cards.

Writing bible verses and things on 3×5 cards seem to be the one common denominator between the girl in the attic and the woman at the keyboard.

And she’s still hugging the guy wearing the acid-washed jeans.

Have you cleaned out an attic lately? What did you find?  Or re-find about yourself.

 

 

iPhone Photo Phun

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