driving to east GA ...

... alone on Saturday to attend an event honoring a family ancestor. Even though I put forth some effort to recruit family for an amusing road trip, hoping that doing some genealogy research might tempt others to want to go along. Especially since my check to pay for bar-b-que lunch was mailed weeks ago, and I fully expected them to go in order to help consume that high-priced meal. That part worked out ok, when I decided to take a cooler and Styrofoam/take out boxes in order to retrieve that food I paid for. Plus a salad for me, as I knew I would not be eating a plate piled with meat.

The purpose of the trip was to be present when the Washington-Wilkes Sons of the Revolution made plans to dedicate a memorial to Owen and his wife. He was the son of a man from Virginia, and settled in the wilds of the eastern part of Georgia. When the British wanted to show those upstarts a thing or two, after the colonists refused to bow to English demands, the redcoats were soundly routed at the Battle of Kettle Creek. Yay us!

I think this man, who went off to defend family and farm, might be my fifth great grandfather. It gets confusing after so many 'greats', so I am not sure about that relationship. I do know there were lots of cousins there for the lunch and well organized program. Even though it was blistering hot out in the treeless cemetery in very rural Taliferro County, it was well attended. A good crowd turned out, including a group of Revolutionary re-enactors in full extremely warm wool jackets, vests, knee pants and white hosiery.  They presented the colors, as the event began, stood patiently by dripping buckets of sweat, waiting to retrieve the colors at the end.

Standing in the hot mid-day sun, the color guard then ended the ceremony by firing their muskets, and presented the Mourn Muskets before we adjourned. Decked out with tri-corner hats and bright metal buckles on their shoes in the fashion of that day. Those men, representing the frontiersmen, homeowners and hard working families of the early 1700's, added pomp and color to the proceedings, as we honored the ancestor who trooped off with the militia well prior to the signing of the Declaration of Independence from the Motherland.

driving across the state...

... to get to a rural church in east Georgia. I spent the night on Friday in Decatur and got up on Saturday to travel on to join with lots of previously un-met cousins for an unusual event planned to honor one of our forebears. An ancestor who was a revolutionary, in the best sense of the word. A man who came from Virginia, and settled in north east Georgia, lived in a log cabin that is (amazingly) still inhabited by family members.  Descendants of this soldier who marched off with the militia to defend his home and family from the British redcoats met on a hot Saturday in May at Phillips Mill Baptist Church where Owen and Sarah were charter members..

It was a beauty-full day, with lots of colorful wildflowers along the right of way as I traveled.Driving along the interstate towards Augusta,  though I turned off before getting near the state line. The ancestor, who received a land grant for his service, lived near Washington GA.Possibly so long ago, there was not much to the town, maybe just a livery, inn, general store.  It is beautiful countryside, with rolling hills and what appears to be good fertile farm land.

Daisies, growing prolifically along the highway, were bright and white, waving in the passing breeze of vehicles on tall slender stems. Queen Anne's lace was just starting to bloom and will be beautiful in the coming weeks if we get a little rain. Some type of low growing purple flower, that I have thought of as a form of wild/native verbena was brilliant in color in large swaths along the embankments in the highway. Red clover has started to fade, due to heat, but will likely reseed and come back with brilliant scarlet blooms next spring, after the DOT tractors mow it down. All those colors: red, white and blue were so appropriate for the day, looking very patriotic as I motored across the hills and valleys, river bridges and over creeks making my way to the land of the forebears.

I enjoyed visiting with some cousins I have met at annual pilgrimages to a state park on the Little River impoundment in recent years. Though I have not done enough research to attest to the reliability of the claim, I was lead to believe we have very distinctive ears, with long lobes. The event was held near Wilkes County, where my dad was born, and there are many relatives still in residence. Plus all those recently discovered cousins that appeared, heretofore unknown, ready to eat their weight in bar-be-que.

if you are ...

... just tuning in, you will want a brief back story about my ill-fated career as a substitute teacher. I will give that - after telling you about a little girl today who was for some completely unknown reason so taken with my presence she asked if I was going to come back tomorrow. Tomorrow being Saturday, I said: "No, and you won't either!" It was a circus, a classroom filled with needy kids.

I've been sub. teaching for years, and honestly cannot decipher why. I don't enjoy it, and really don't need the little bit of income enough to warrant the misery it takes to get paid. I make about $55 for spending my day as a teacher's aide in a pre-K or Kindergarten classroom. Years ago, when I still had a family at home that needed my attention after an exhausting day of sub. work, I would come dragging in the door wondering what the dinner plans were. Along with three other people who were wondering the same thing including a man who would say: 'I would have paid you a hundred dollars to stay at home and not be so exhausted and cranky when you come crawling in.'

Plus if you do the work at the beginning of a pay period, it can be nearly a month before the funds are actually deposited in your account - so far after the event you rarely recall where you were when you earned it. Or how awful the job situation was that you survived. Admittedly, going in the classroom as a teacher instead of support staff pays better, but it is also accompanied by a massively bigger headache which usually seems like too high a price to pay for getting a day closer to the minimum requirement of twenty days.

Happily I can announce that today was day number 21. I had a sub. job last Monday, in addition to the one today that was just sort of 'insurance', a cushion to be sure I had the days needed. Sadly, I looked at my watch this morning when I was with the students in art class and said to myself: "How can it be that I have been here all day long and it is only 9:30 in the morning?"

a genius idea....

... that came from my own personal brain, that I completely forgot about, only to be reminded by a dear friend. I told my family some years ago that I did not want them to buy me anything for gift-giving occasions. I don't want any more jewelry, clothing, collectibles, things that I will have to find some place to put. Nothing that will accumulate in my house and life. If we cannot eat it, I don't want it.  Or Fun. I am always up for Fun.

That was not something that is easy to hear: when you want to do something for someone you care about, I think we all tend to spend. Birthday cards, various superfulous presents, or cake and ice cream. I readily admit I do it too - but have figured out a way to combine giving attention to commemorate a special day with not actually forcing an unwanted gift on the recipient: Cheap cards from Just-A-Buck with a gift card enclosed for something good to eat. We all gotta eat, right?  Some place mildly amusing like Dairy Queen or Chic-fil-A, where you can actually get the ice cream which is a vital part of celebrating.

So, no 'stuff', ok? But what you can do, if you feel compelled to spend your money: donations. To most any place that depends on the generosity of strangers.  Any reputable charitable organization that tugs at your heart, makes you feel you have invested in changing the world. They will send a card of acknowledgment, make you feel good, the honored feel good, and you will be doing good!

This friend remembered some years ago when I was busily trying to convince my family about my personal 'theory of gifting' I suggested they should support the library and literacy programs. I heard about the Ferst Foundation (POB 1327, Madison, GA 30650) years ago, and thought it a great way to support efforts to encourage children to love books and reading. Helping kids who have brains that absorb knowledge like sponges learn the basics of surviving in the world. Learn what those mysterious symbols on cereal boxes and road signs mean. I have sent funds earmarked as donations to honor individuals a number of times over the years. Showing my commitment to help provide little people with books, develop a life-long love of the printed word.

If you want to do something kind, generous, thoughtful and make the world a better place: do what Sharon did. Encourage a child to learn how to read! Literacy might save the world. Send a donation to the Brooks County Public Library, 404 Barwick Rd., Quitman, GA 31643. 

for sale:....

... but not having a whole lotta luck with that! I have been optimistically hoping to find a buyer for my auntie's car, that she will not ever be driving again. Maybe a little inappropriate when you think it is an effort to settle her estate while she is still kicking, but with something that will age poorly, I feel like the sooner it has a new owner, the better. It's not that old, and has been well cared for, with low mileage and a good service record.

I even checked to see if there is a history of body work, and found nothing. Which was quite surprising, as I know she has not had the best ever driving history, and even though she claimed to have been taught to drive by her brother-in-law (my dad), she was a terrible driver. I've been in the car with her often enough to observe her methods, and soon concluded that I should always be the driver, and let her just enjoy the ride - in an effort to keep my safety and sanity intact!

A friend made the trip to south GA with me about a month ago to bring the little Toyota back so I could park it on the street and try to find a buyer. With a' for sale' sign in the window, in front of my house on a busy street, I was hopeful that someone would call. I did get lots of messages from people expressing interest, but when they heard the price that was it. Few were interested enough to come and drive and think it the perfect addition to their family fleet. Two people did come to test drive, there were no buyers. Plan B: take it into town, to sit out on the curb  in front of an office on an even busier street, with my number in the window. Thus far,  plan B has been even less successful!

I have had two calls in recent days, making me a bit more optimistic. One was from someone who was to meet me late yesterday. She did not show up, so I left after fifteen minutes - only to have her call me when I was nearly home. We will try again today. She wanted her teenager to drive it. The other call is for a dad who has a sixteen year old he might want to get it for. I will meet him today as well.

I feel a sense of urgency about finding a buyer as I know the longer it sits, the older it gets (and the less value it has on the market) I have never had any problems with the two Toyota cars I have owned, and feel like it is a good little vehicle, would be great for a teenager to putz around in as they get excellent mileage. Just need to find the person who is willing to pay what I believe it is worth, according to the Blue Book. There is a concern about negotiations on the price as I will have to answer to probate if the court does not feel that full/reasonable value has been paid for her property.

it took soooooo long...

... to get to the solution for the problem, and the solution happened so fast! After finally deciding to make an appointment to get the pain in my hand and arm evaluated, I made the call last September. Since I would be a 'new patient', it would be nearly two months before they could schedule me to actually see the specialist, guy who works exclusively on hands. I was supposed to see him in Nov. But had that sad frustrating accident in mid-October that resulted in a FOOSH (falling on out-stretched hand). The actual appointment was cancelled when I had a follow up visit with the doctor post surgery, which was also the day before I was originally scheduled to see him.

Slow process of having metal  inserted, getting the slice sewed up and healing, with a cast to immobilize and long weeks of therapy and regaining strength and mobility. I feel like I am as good as I am going to get, have been back at work, doing all I usually do since the end of January. Working enough that the original problem has become problematic again. When I am not doing the normal work of spending hours a day with a knife in my hand, cutting fruit, making salads, doing prep. work that involves the range of motion slicing requires it is not at all bothersome. But hours of holding a large knife and repetitive motion can be troublesome.

I knew this difficulty would likely return when I started back to work, after extensive therapy to regain strength and flexibility. But when I asked about it, at the last appointment post surgery, when the doc. told me I was finished with exercises: he said I would have to schedule a separate visit for that particular problem. I actually did go back out to the front desk and request a 'do-over' and was told when to return. That resulted in me making two more appointments when the doc. was so swamped, I could not spend the afternoon sitting in the waiting room. I finally, finally finally saw him again today. He seemed delighted to see me - even though I am sure he says that to everyone who has there insurance billed for an office visit.

So... what happened? After numerous x-rays, the doc. came in and held my hand, squeezing and smooshing, twisting and bending, asking 'does this hurt?' He showed me a bone spur and arthritis on the film where the long bone and hand bones come together. And offered a quick easy solution that would be dispensed through a long sharp needle into that joint. I went back to work, and am hopeful. He said I do not need to come back unless I need to come back.

church in the yard, part 2...

... is what I found when I got home from the week recently spent in Virginia. About that trip: I had tickets to go, but spur-of-the-moment decided to go days earlier, after receiving a call from my sister- in-law with markedly bad news about deteriorating condition of my brother. That tale does not have a happy ending, but I will not go into it here as the report on that situation happened weeks ago.

My co-worker, the guy who gets so much enjoyment from the visible improvements he sees after spending the morning mowing, trimming, raking, brought a variety of potted plants for me to get my own version of 'therapy'. I have tried a number of times over the years we have worked together to persuade him to go with my family to church, but he has declined. Except for last Easter, when I was very surprised when he showed up and greeted me at the early service.

He and I have often talked of how satisfying it is to dig holes, plant things, get projects finished out doors when you can easily see the result of your labor, and the good feeling  have when your accomplishments are readily visible. I've long promoted the effects of hole-digging and weed-pulling as the best therapy ever.  Not only is the process gratifying as you enjoy sunshine and exercise, the digging and inserting a seed or plant gives the opportunity to optimistically expect beauty or even food! As you observe it sprout, grow and possibly produce fruit or vegetables. 

I have put most of the things he brought and left by my front door as an offering of condolence to give me an excuse to dig and plant. Most have been put in pots across the front of the house, that already had a variety of plants installed - mostly herbs that are green, growing, and draping over the sides of various terracotta planters. A pot full of purple petunias went in a hanging basket I can see from the table where I sit and type. I am optimistic it will be attractive to hummingbirds, with those trumpet shaped blooms, and hope I can keep it watered to bloom all summer. Another plant, with hundreds of wee little blooms is in a planter right be the front door, where it already looks thirsty, so I need to give them all a drink.

A couple of daisy plants, one white and one yellow await planting, due to the fact that I have not decided where they should go.  Along with a pink splash, that I will put in a container and let it grow near the front door. I had one several years ago, in a pot near the front door, which surprised me by surviving the winter, to be just as pretty and colorful the second summer. Plus they are really easy to pinch off and root, when they start getting too big, so you can have more to plant or share.

Thanks to the guy who chooses to look at life as a glass that is Half Full. It has been excellent therapy!