lunch in...

...Tennessee today. I drove to Decatur on Sunday afternoon, to spend the night. We got up this morning and drove on to Chattanooga for lunch, after I made a quick stop at the store for some fresh flowers to take along. Tomorrow is her actual birthday, but I had a minor conflict, causing the celebrating to be moved up a day.

We have been going for several years, to have lunch and chat/visit/laugh. Last year when asked what her preference would be for good eats, she reported that the most favorite would be eating Asian food at the 'cook it on the table' place - something we did occasionally in growing up years. She just loves Asian food - always requesting going to eat at a little hole in the wall place when she comes to visit here.

We got to TN a little early,  and made a detour to a store you could probably furnish your entire house in if you wanted. Definitely a OneStopShop, with everything except food, and maybe roofing shingles. I accidentally purchased a plastic green house that comes in a box, as well as a couple of big pretty yellow mum plants to sit on the front step that will need watering at least once a day. A few open flowers and dozens of buds that will open in the coming days to add color in the coming weeks when they return home to St. Elmo.

After we returned the (day early) Birthday Girl to her workplace, we got back on the interstate to return to Atlanta. Safe uneventful drive to Decatur, then on back home by about 5:30. A lot of traveling, gas burned, but an enjoyable day. I noticed on Sunday afternoon when headed north lots of pretty blooms in the median of I-185. Great swaths of cosmos in brilliant yellow, as well as spots of white, pink and maroon deliberately planted and watered to provide beauty for travelers. In the way that spotting happy yellow daffodils in the early spring make you smile, I was surprised and delighted by the colorful nodding blooms, and effort put forth to make a mundane drive so cheerful.

the consumate volunteer...

... somehow got dropped off the sign up list for making myself available to help with various events at the local botanical gardens. Got a call from the person who was recruited as a volunteer to manage the volunteer cadre, wondering  why I was not participating? Had my feelings been hurt? Do we have a bogus email address? No,  none of the above...

Apparently they thought I was ignoring them, while I was busily thinking they were ignoring me? I'm back on the email list again, and signed up for various projects in need of extra hands/bodies. One occurred on Saturday, when I went yesterday to help with Pumpkin Painting. And yes, they were actually painting actual pumpkins.

About two dozen people had signed up and paid good money to apply stickers, acrylic paint and tons of glitter to the pumpkin of choice. Some were really cute, clever designs carefully drawn out and sketched on the skin of the fruit, while others looked like an explosion in the glitter factory. The event was scheduled to start at 10:00 and be done by noon. I was walking back to my car by twelve, after sweeping up several good sized piles of glitter that landed on the tables, chairs and floor.

wading through...

... a life time of someone's belongings, when I spent the day on Friday going through closets at my auntie's house. I am thankful she reported several years ago when she was still relatively able (physically and mentally) to do some of the sorting and deciding for herself. Even so: it all has to go somewhere, as we all know 'you can't take it with you'.  Some of the things in her closets were items of clothing she will never wear, as she has been so well fed three-meals-a-day everything she had been wearing no

A room full of furniture was relocated to the assisted living facility where she resides, and will eventually be disposed of when she no longer needs a place to lay her head. But still, that leaves a house full of belongings, some antiques, old well made tables and chairs from the era when people took great pride in their craft.  In reality, now that I think of all she has accumulated, there is nothing new, furniture-wise, in her house. She enjoyed shopping in thrift stores, sussing out pieces she would strip of layers of paint, and refinish, have reupholstered and enjoy living with as refreshed, renewed belongings.

A few things in her home were made by her dad, who was obviously pretty handy with a hammer and nails. A beautiful old pine wood cabinet she said her dad made when the young couple was able to afford a radio: obviously a huge item budget-wise as well as in actuality. The cabinet stands about thirty inches high, with a shelf maybe 36 inches long, providing a space for all the workings to bring the news of the outside world into their home. There is a bookshelf, now relegated to her covered carport that stood in my grandmothers' home for years, filled with cookbooks, with necessary tools  tucked away behind hinged doors on either end. A large cabinet, at  least five feet in height, of unfinished wood I first saw at my grandmother's, standing in a storage shed made to store all the jam, jelly and vegetables she put by in glass canning jars over many years.

All these made by my grandfather, with hand tools, long before anyone even dreamed of electric saws and nail guns. In a little shop filled with tools, some of which I now own, stored in wooden chest he probably also made with those same tools. Hammers, hand drills, saws, planes, awls, everything tediously cut and shaped by his two hard-working hands after putting in his days as a bank teller in a small southern town. He was raised by people who worked the land, made most of their household furnishings, as well as growing much of what they ate either by planting or raising livestock. He was born into self-sufficiency, learned from an early age thrift and hard work. 

All that is now for sale, to the highest bidder. Available to those wanting the farm-house vintage look in furnishings. So hard to let these things go....

semi-accidentally ...

... is what I am calling this day devoted to a substitute teaching job at a nearby elementary school. The explanation for it being 'semi', is that I thought I was signing on to only be there half of the day. As the job was listed on the web-site you can access to search for daily openings, the time indicated was from 7:30 to 12:00. So I agreed, and took the assignment. Then the confirmation email reported that the hours I would work as 7:30 to 12:30 - not all that different, and easily do-able since I was already there.

The time seems to creep by so slowly when you are in a classroom with two dozen bouncy babbling energetic five year olds, I must have looked at my watch forty times before ten o'clock. At which time they lined up to go to lunch, with their choices being Salisbury steak or Buffalo Chicken Sandwich. Even though they were warned that anything with 'buffalo' in the name was going to be spicy, most choose the sandwich. I thought I would be free by noon, so did not plan on eating at the school. We got in the lunch room, they got plates with their pitiful lunches and sat down. Concluding it must be lunch time, I asked if the chicken was really hot, and was told there were some that had not been dunked in hot sauce. I asked to be fed, and ate mine with ketchup on it. Then realized it is only ten a.m. and I've just eaten lunch. What am I going to do for the rest of the day?

It gets worse: after more time in the classroom with two dozen milling talkative little people, I began to wonder when the person I was substituting for was going to show up? It got to be noon, then 12:15, then half past, and no replacement for the replacement. Finally, getting on towards one o'clock, someone from the office came in and asked if I would stay until 2:30. I said: 'uuuuuummmm, yeah, I guess.' When what I really meant was 'No.' But completely unprepared for that question, I could  not come up with an authentic-sounding excuse fast enough, so committed for the full day, when I thought I would be free by twelve-oh-one.

It gets better: while I was sitting with the kids in the lunch room, watching them not eat those Buffalo Chicken Sandwiches because they were too spicy, I read silly, cheezy jokes on their milk cartons.
This is what I saw:
What do you call a male cow who is taking a nap? A bull dozer. (The five year olds would never 'get' that!)
What did the lion say after eating a clown? That tasted funny!
Where do cows go on a date: Dinner and a moovie!

this is what...

... they might have heard when I was trudging up the hill behind trying to keep up. I know I am not as fast as people half my age, but I will get there eventually. It just takes me a little longer, especially when the effort required involves steep inclines or numerous stairsteps. I will get there under my own steam, just not as quickly as we would all like for it to happen.

What I was saying, over and over, my own personal mantra: "keep up,walk faster, don't get left", to help me speed up as necessary. I know they would not have left me there in a foreign country with a suitcase full of dirty clothing. It was most assuredly very frustrating for them at times when I was lagging behind. Occasionally stopping to look in a window, or observe nature, or take a photo for the blog. But often, just not moving fast enough, especially in the city when crossing the street at a light.

I will attribute part of the problem to my bad knee, the one with the brace that always gets special attention from the TSA crew at the airport. There is a metal piece on the side, large enough to set off alarms, alert those responsible for our air safety. I try to put the brace on the outside of my pants, to be able to remove it for an extra trip through the x-ray machine. They will always ask: 'Can  you take it off?' That usually makes the enforcers happy.

When asked about it, if anyone should casually inquire about my disability, I usually' respond: my knees seem to be older than the rest of my body'. I've expected for years this joint would be the first one to fail me as my dad had knee replacement surgery three times (one of the surgeries was not successful and had to be re-done). I assumed there would be a genetic predisposition to problems, and not much surprised that I have begun to have trouble with leg joints. We were designed to wear out, not intended to be immortal with organs, joints, parts that last indefinitely. I accept that as part of life and living here on this planet. Just have to occasionally remind myself to add a little more juice, and catch up before they turn the corner and disappear: KeepUpWalkFasterDon'tGetLeft.

renovating/upgrading...

... in the store where I have been working for years. This work has been ongoing for several months, and apparently seems to be coming to an end. My supposition is based on the fact that there are not nearly as many cargo shipping containers out there on the far edge of the parking lot as there was when the project started. Meaning all the building materials required for the construction have been put in place, all those improvements have been largely implemented. Still some painting and cosmetic stuff needed, and signage replaced, but mostly finished.

The crew that comes in every night at ten and disappears at five a.m. is finishing this particular tour of duty. I have not asked and no one tells me anything, but I assume this construction crew signs on to travel, sort of a deployment for weeks on end as they travel the southeast renovating, moving from one town to another as stores age and need upgrades. A variety of tasks to be done as each store is provided with energy efficient improvements, safety features and new paint jobs.

One big thing that has happened here is most of our refrigerated items are now in coolers behind doors. Keeping the cool in, with customers having to open clear glass doors to reach in and get the products they desire. I assume it will save on utility costs, but that is a lot of opening and closing (with loss of chill power), as well as dozens of doors that have to be cleaned of hand prints. Frozen foods area has also been replaced, though these items were in glass-fronted displays, but now have motion sensor lights, so they are not constantly lit up. Probably more energy efficient too.

I passed a customer yesterday who was muttering to herself, trying to find the items on her list. Asking why it is necessary to relocate everything in the area just because we are renovating. Not understanding why improvements necessitate moving things around when she thought she knew right where her preferred products could be found. I laughed, commiserated and said: "I work here, and I cannot find anything either!" I know there are different square footage and sized of stores, but often hear buyers complain that they cannot find anything in a different store. "They should set them up all the same. This one is not like my store, and I don't know where anything is!"

in transit...

... after a morning spent strolling through Central Park in The Big Apple. Following a week in a land with so little color, it was a delight to see all the wildflowers in glorious fall bloom in the park. All that time touring in on that island with much of the landscape either barren and bleak from volcanic eruptions, or washed of most color due to the early onset of autumn it was such a delight to see bright bloomers as we meandered along the paths of the Park.

My vision of a place surrounded by millions people in a town so densely populated is that every plant growing in the environs would be  perfectly placed, carefully groomed and in mint condition. So it was quite unexpected to see areas designed by Fredrick Law Olmsted, first laid out  in the mid-1800's appearing so natural and casual. We read several signs about renovations and improvements made due to donations by Friends of Central Park. Some parts are neatly groomed, tidily planted with landscaping, well mowed, fenced but other parts are much more natural, with seasonal growth, plants that would bloom naturally in the early fall: asters and ageratum.

Subway riding back from Central Park to Chinatown area where we spent the night, blissfully slumbering after travels across the icy North Atlantic. Lunch on a city sidewalk near the hotel where we stored our luggage. Delicious Italian eats: pasta stuffed with ricotta and spinach, made from scratch sauce, sprinkled with freshly grated Parmesan. Oh, my goodness! Then a ride back to JFK to be herded through the maze and arrive for screening with TSA again, Then more 'hurry up and wait' for the flight to ATL.

Sitting in various airports: with more experience than I would like of the scanners in TSA. Interesting to note that the security people in JFK are part of the Port Authority. I thought that odd until it occurred to me that Kennedy Airport is a port too! I hope I will do a better job in the future when traveling to take advantage of the benefit of early boarding. I have learned that it is most beneficial to have the brace I wear on my knee visible when heading through security check. Now I know it is also helpful to look 'disabled' when I approach the desk at the boarding gate with my request for 'extra time' to mosey on down the gang-way in an unhurried fashion along with moms and small children. As well as a good idea to limp a little when I take advantage of the stall in the WC labeled for the handicapped.

Flight back to ATL was uneventful, though we had too much time to kill before the last leg of the trip from Hartsfield International to Chattanooga. Whiling away hours with our eyes pretty much glazed over from travel, then hearing the flight to TN is delayed for who-knows-why. Finally arriving in Chattanooga, which is thankfully small, so no hike, or plane-train ride to the terminal, or tedious wait at the baggage carousel.  Driving back across town to fall into bed. Now I will drive for four hours to get home and eventually get over that draggy feeling from extended travel.

Still so thankful for the benefits of being born and living in America. Though we are most assuredly a spoiled people who want what we want when we want it, and sadly accustomed to all the choices that come with our consumeristic society, I know it is a blessing to be here. Enjoying the benefits of the US Constitution and traveling with a privileged passport.