Tag Archives: Atlanta

Taking The Slow Train To London

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Okay, so it’s not really all that slow and I don’t mind at all because my ticket price (bought in advance) was a great deal, and I’m seated at a table with a power source for my computer. I’m taking the little netbook with me that John and I carried all over New Zealand so I can get some writing done while I’m riding.

It will be my first train trip alone since moving to the UK, but I expect it to go smoothly. We’re about four hours by car from London and the slow train takes about the same amount of time when you factor in a few stops along the way. There’s an express train if you are in a hurry, but I’ll be there in time for lunch and that’s good enough for my pocketbook.

My imagination tends to go wild when I ride the train thinking about all the people who have traveled the rails before me. One of the bloggers I read did a few posts on traveling by train in the 1940’s and has some photographs that you may find as interesting as I did if you’d care to make the trip over to her place here. She’s an American like me, who fell in love with a man far from home and now lives in the UK.

I’m off to London this morning to spend a few days with David, my dear friend and former next door neighbor. You may remember he came to visit for a few days last summer with his partner Steven. David takes amazing photographs so I’m sure it will be one big photo shoot for the two of us. I never feel as if I’ve had enough time with him since leaving Atlanta and I’m looking forward to long conversations and adding to a memory box that already has some sweet memories of good times together.

 

 

Speaking My Language

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In yesterday’s post, I talked about Love Languages and how we communicate and said I would be back to share the results of my assessment with you. It’s no surprise to me that of the five areas that Gary Chapman identifies in his book The 5 Love Languages, the one that ranks highest for me is what he refers to as, ” Acts of Service ” with “Words of Affirmation ” close behind.

I have included a couple of photos of John doing the service part. While we were home in Atlanta for Christmas week, he raked and bagged all of leaves around the house I still own in Atlanta. I did not even have to ask. I had arranged for the man who cuts the grass to do it, but he was waiting until after Christmas and being concerned about how shabby it looked and how it might be affecting the grass, I decided to do it myself. There were some immediate things I needed to attend to inside the house first and by the time I was ready to move outside to the yard work, John picked up a rake and attacked the problem by himself.

I know this front yard looks tiny and you’re thinking, ” How much work can that really be? ”  The back yard is only a little larger, but the leaves seem to multiply or get blown in from my neighbor’s yards so it’s always a huge task every year and one I usually do alone.

John did all the work without a single grumble during or after and when it was all done had 40 bags of leaves lined up against the fence. That’s exactly what I mean by ” Acts of Service. ”  I think the quiz is especially useful when you think you may be saying or doing all the right things to show your love, but your spouse or partner is acting as if they are not feeling it.

For example, giving me an expensive gift is never a good way to show me love especially if money is tight because I will just worry about the cost. Worry = stress which is never a ” gift of love ” for me. Men might be surprised how many women feel this way. I have jokingly said many times that when it comes to seduction, a foot rub can be way more effective than a diamond bracelet for most women.

How about you … did any of you take the assessment?


Power Shots & Love Lines

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Earlier this year while John was driving us to Tenby Wales, I spotted this sight and I shouted something like, ” Stop, please … I want to take a picture! ” Being the patient and accommodating man that he is, John pulled the car over so I could take a couple of shots that would probably not appeal to many.

I pulled these two photographs today because they reminded me of how often John puts my needs first even when he’d rather be doing something else. He’s been busy lately helping me get ready for my upcoming trip to my home in Atlanta, Georgia where I’ll soon be for the next few weeks.

He’s been patient and calming even when travel worries have left me a bit stroppy. I love some of the new words I discovered after moving here. Stroppy is a perfect description for my mood lately and I think it’s because I’m really going to miss him. As an independent, space loving woman, this represents a big shift for me.

Even though we’ve only been together for about two and half years I’ve come to love sharing my time with him. I still need of lot of time to myself, but there’s something really easy about the way we move in each other’s lives and space and if we were dancing, I’d say we had definitely mastered the steps.

Of course I’ll have fun on my trip home to the US and it’s going to be good to spend time with Miranda and Cullene and the rest of my family and friends, but now while any family gathering is still sweet, not having him there to share it makes it feel a bit incomplete.

I’m not gone yet, but soon I’ll be writing from the other side of the Atlantic where the high temperatures and humidity may be just enough to distract me from missing him too much.

I’ve already scheduled a run/walk/hike with a blogger friend, Jules who John and I met on the TMB a couple of years ago along with her husband. If you’re reading me from Georgia and want to meet up to say hello, you can leave me a message here and I’ll get in touch with you. We don’t have to brave the heat like Jules and I will be doing … I am content to sit in a cool air-conditioned space and drink iced coffee with you instead.

Had I Known You Were Coming, I Would Have Baked A Cake

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Atlanta – December – 2006

That’s me in the cell phone picture above, wearing a borrowed apron while presenting the first cake I ever made from scratch to my guests at a Christmas party in Atlanta. Judging from that smile and what I remember, I was clearly giddy with delight at how well it turned out. Yesterday was a day like that for me too. After clicking publish on yesterday’s post, I checked a few blogs that I read regularly and went out for a run that quickly turned into more of a brisk walk due to a pulled back muscle.

Imagine my surprise when I realized on my return that my blog had been selected by Joy, an editor at WordPress, as one of eleven blogs to be showcased on the Freshly Pressed site for WordPress.com. It is always special to receive recognition, whether it’s a group of your friends with an appreciative sweet tooth eating up your first apple cake or a group of strangers who show up all at once to see what’s shaking at your place … support like that can quickly make a girl go all giggly and Sally Field-ish.

It was great fun to see your comments and watch my sitemeter numbers go up throughout the day and although they didn’t climb quite as high as they did when Pioneer Woman sent all her friends over for a visit, it was pretty exciting on its own.

Thanks to everyone who took time yesterday to leave a comment and say hello. I haven’t made it around to all of your sites yet, but if you have one, I’ll be by later today and if you happen to be feeling like serving a little snack, I’d love a cup of coffee and a piece of cake.

In case you don’t have a good cake recipe of your own, I’m happy to share my favorite from Carole Clements, The Cooks Handbook.


I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

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Photographs of Mollye are lifted from Facebook

I am stealing a song title from a Beatle’s tune this morning to say a few more words about the post I wrote here a couple of days ago, which I followed up with this one yesterday where I thanked everyone for their supportive comments. If you are someone who reads comments left by others as I sometimes do except over at Pioneer Woman’s place because one post can garner thousands of comments and who has time to read that many … anyway, if you happen to be reading the comments left on the post, Are You Judy’s Daughter, you will see a comment from someone named Mollye, that could do with a bit of an explanation.

My dear friend Mollye is one of the sweetest souls I know. We met about ten years ago when we were both working with folks who were either infected or affected by HIV. While I worked mostly with the physicians and medical providers who managed their care, I also had an opportunity to meet people like Mollye who worked at the time for one of the AIDS service organizations in Atlanta. After reading her comment on the revealing mother-daughter post I wrote, I decided it might be a bit confusing without a little backstory.

Mollye is quite accomplished in many ways, in addition to working as a gifted therapist, she is an amazing artist and photographer. She specializes in pet photography when she’s not helping people searching for their best selves and I only wish I had more of her art hanging on my walls.

I sent Mollye a message yesterday with a link telling her of the dream I had a few days ago that prompted me to write the mother-daughter post. What I did not say publicly in that post was that Mollye had been in my dream too, showing up right at the end just as I was waking up. I told Mollye that I was not sure whether it was because I had looked at her art just before I went to bed which deals directly with ghosts and is titled “Spirits of the Field,” or because she is an Alabama native which is the last place I saw my mother who has lived only two hours from my former home in Georgia for about the last twenty years. For whatever reason Mollye popped in at the last minute, it was comforting to wake up with a sense of her nurturing presence after the familiar rejection by my mother in the dream.

When I woke this morning and sat down to check my messages as I do while the coffee is brewing, I read the sweet comment she left me and felt so lucky to have friends in my life like Mollye. We all have histories and ghosts that haunt us, but who we become in spite of it all is a true measure of a life well lived.

I could make excuses for my mother’s behavior, but there is nothing so horrible in her history that would have made her into the bitter narcissistic person that she is. She is what she is by choice and although I understand that intellectually, that knowledge has provided little emotional comfort over the years.

There is one thing I am very sure of and that is while we may not be able to choose the path we on which we begin our journey, we can choose which direction we take once we gain our own footing. The love and kindness of friends like Mollye are some of the gifts of my journey and an example of the good you receive in life when you choose to walk in the light.

Please feel free to share your story of someone who might be a ” Mollye ” in your life in a comment below.

Pioneer Woman’s Husband And Ellen DeGeneres

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I know you are probably thinking … what in the world does Pioneer Woman’s husband, Marlboro Man have in common with Ellen DeGeneres? That is exactly what I thought when they both showed up in the same dream the other night. After all, it’s not like Pioneer Woman and I are big buddies or anything even though we did meet briefly along with about 799 other women in Atlanta one night. You may remember when I wrote about the experience in my post, I’m No Pioneer Woman.

Pioneer Woman & Elizabeth Harper

Strange dreams are not that unusual for me, but I’m generally not dreaming about other people’s husbands or celebrities like Ellen. This one was so weird that I had to think about it a day or so before I decided to mention it to John, my own sweet husband pictured below.

I’m not sure why Marlboro Man decided to spend some time with me while I was trying to catch up on my rest, but my friend Tina and I did have a little chat about him while out on a run earlier in the day so maybe he was trapped in my subconscious somewhere.


I can’t remember how he came up in conversation, but we were discussing his assets and how they are so frequently highlighted by Pioneer Woman in her blog. We were completely appropriate and only briefly touched on her pictures like the one here, before moving on to new topics.

One of the most endearing things about Pioneer Woman is how much in love she is with her husband and I know just how she feels especially when I see pictures of my darling man like the one below.

Or this one taken during a visit to Scotland.

Pioneer Woman occasionally likes to show you pictures of Marlboro Man in his younger years and I have some favorites of John from his mid-thirties that do it for me too, like this one at the beach in 1979.

And I just love this picture taken with his girls in 1972.

I have to say though that I really fell for him when he emailed the picture below during our early online dating days. Seeing him playing bouncy ball on the lawn with his little granddaughter was just about the cutest thing and is part of what I find so attractive about him.

So I know how Pioneer Woman feels when she shares pictures like this one of Marlboro Man in his daddy role or this tender one , because they are the kind I tend to like best.

But getting back to that dream I mentioned … It seems Marlboro Man came for a visit and he had a bunch of tiny cow bells with him. It makes no sense to me either as I know they don’t raise dairy cows. What made it even more interesting than seeing him show up in Cornwall was the reason for his trip. He explained that every time he saw a person doing something kind for someone else, he was there to give them a tiny cow bell to acknowledge it. I am not sure how to connect it all, kindness and cow bells and Marlboro Man, but even more confusing was when Ellen came dancing into my dream to pick up her bell. Maybe it was because she has been so kind in her comments on American Idol this season, but I could not say for sure.  Although I am usually pretty good with dream interpretation, this one has me stumped. Anyone care to hazard a guess as to what it might mean?

The Morning After A Visit … From A Few Of Pioneer Woman’s Friends

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Does anyone remember when I wrote about meeting the woman pictured below? It was my last night in Atlanta before flying back the next day to England. Well, if you missed it and would like to know what the Pioneer Woman and I talked about, you can read all about it here.

This post is just a little thank you note to Ree Drummond for sending 2300 of her blogging buddies by yesterday to have a look around Gifts Of The Journey. They were such a quiet crowd that I might not have noticed they were here if I had not seen my sitemeter numbers spiking so quickly. I’ve never had a party where so many folks stopped by and a party is exactly what it felt like here as I watched my numbers rise. This morning was just a memory though with nary a scrap of anything left behind except a nice comment from Rebekah who was at the Atlanta gathering with the other 800 or so of us.

If I had know they were coming, I might have made a batch of Ree’s famous cinnamon rolls for everyone like I did for some of the folks in my village on Christmas Eve or maybe shared stories about how well my her stuffing tasted with our Christmas dinner or I might even have shown pictures of all of the blackberry cobblers I made and gave away to people here who had no idea what a cobbler was. As it was, I felt slightly unprepared and could only shout throughout the day to my husband John saying, ” I’m at 902, 1106, 2001…,” and so on while whispering a little thanks for stopping by as I saw folks departing.

Seriously, thanks to everyone who took the time to visit and I hope you come back again when you can stay a bit longer. Oh, and if you’re looking for some horses and cows like PW has hanging around her place, I’ve got some of those you might like roaming free on the moors and other places around here.


Trash Or Treasure

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It’s 3:30 a.m. here and I should be sleeping, but the problem with that is that it’s only 10:30 p.m. in Atlanta and my body appears to be on Atlanta time.  John met me at the airport in London this morning and aside from a nap of about an hour during our 5 hour drive back to Cornwall, I haven’t really slept since I managed to get about 4 hours Monday night. I tend not to be a big sleeper anyway with 5 hours being a regular night for me, but I can’t believe I’m still wide awake right now.

I even took two Tylenol PM tablets on the plane, but nothing happened and I spent the whole flight watching hour after hour of movies and TV programs that I never see over here. I managed to read half of the paperback book I bought at the airport and having had no sleep on the plane, I thought by now I would be doing some serious snoozing.

Since it appears I’ve been deserted by the sandman, I’ve been going through one of the projects that I started while home for the past three weeks in Atlanta. I spent about a week of 8 to 9 hours days going through tons of old photographs, letters, and assorted documents scanning almost 6500 separate items into my computer.

It was tough. Seeing my own history as well the photographs and letters of family members no longer living waiting to be sorted was overwhelming and felt never ending at times. I finally just sorted everything into two piles, one for those being scanned for a digital next life and the rest into the pile marked for things no longer treasured but instead bound for the trash.

I’ll say more on this later because all of sudden I think I may be able to finally sleep. I’ll leave you with a few pictures to illustrate my point and I’ll be back tomorrow with a bit more.

This is a postcard sent by my great uncle Hugh three months before he died in France in 1944.

How can this be anything but a treasure…

I’m No Pioneer Woman

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I know it’s been a little while since I’ve been here. Have you missed me? I’ve missed being here, but I have been so busy during the last three weeks that I just haven’t had a block of time to write. It’s late here … almost 2:30 am and I still have to pack. Tomorrow I fly back to England and as much as I have enjoyed my visit home, I’m really looking forward to getting back to my life in Cornwall with John.

I have loads of stories to share, but tonight I had a chance to meet a special blogger who I’ve been following for the last couple of years. If you haven’t had an opportunity to check out this really lovely woman, scoot over here and have a look around.  Take your time there’s a lot to see and I’ll be here when you get back.

Right … I hope you took time to see what Ree Drummond, aka ” The Pioneer Woman”  is all about. I’ve been learning a lot from her over the last year or so especially in the kitchen. In fact, I think there are a few people in my village who might say I have really got the hang of this dish ( scroll down towards the end of the post) that I took straight from her website.

It’s no surprise that I found myself waiting to meet the Pioneer Woman on my last night in America ( for the next seven months, not forever) along with hundreds of other people. She was in town on a book tour to promote her cookbook which I am sure will make my kitchen experience a lot safer for my computer. I picked up one for myself, my daughter Miranda, and her former college roommate Emily. My good friend Patrice came to keep me company while I waited and after browsing through my cookbook, she quickly decided she had to have one too.

My daughter Miranda is a huge fan of PW and wanted to be there, but had to work so I snapped a bunch of photos so she could get a sense of what it was like.  I’ve been to book signings before and never have I seen so many people turn out and wait so patiently. It was a laid back group of mostly women with a smattering of men around taking pictures and helping with children. I did meet one man who was there to buy his wife the cookbook although he confessed that he had tried quite a few of PW’s recipes that he found on her blog. His wife reads the blog everyday, but he prefers to try out things like the cinnamon rolls which he confessed were too good to make very often.  That sounds like a perfect Christmas morning treat.

There were several surprises for me tonight which added to the evening making it even more fun. As soon as I walked upstairs, I ran into a woman I used to work with at a hospice organization in Atlanta. Carla was one of the sweetest people I met there and exactly the type of person you want walking you through things should you or someone you know ever need hospice care.  She was delightful as always and she gave me permission to post a picture of her that I lifted from her facebook page. She’s a newlywed as you can see by the photograph. She wasn’t there for the book signing, but I still raved about the recipes in the cookbook. So Carla if you’re reading this, go over to PW’s place and check out the brisket.

When Patrice and I finally made it to the line, (they called us to it in groups according to numbered color coded wristbands…very civilized ) we were talking with each other when I easedropped overheard two women behind us doing something that sounded familiar. Barely pausing, I quickly turned around and interrupted them in the middle of what I remembered as the torture that goes with the practice of selling drugs. I blurted out, ” Are you two drug reps? ”  They were practicing a sales call with one being the doctor and one the pharma rep. It turned out to be a migraine medication which is kind of funny since I suffer from them from time to time. If you’ve read my blog for long you know that I worked in the same field for too many years. They were in town for a POA (plan of action) meeting and even had a sales aid with them to practice while they waited. As much fun as they were, I am so grateful that my life is no longer like theirs.

Joyce is in red and Deb (go here to see her post) is holding the sales aid or marketing piece depending on how old school you are.

This is me killing time goofing around with my knitting which I brought in case I needed something to do. I just pulled it out for a photo opportunity as there were far too many people to watch and chat with to focus on knitting.

Still these girls seem to be able to focus on the task at hand.

I was too busy focusing on babies like little Helen here above with her mom and the sneaky pic of the sweetly sleeping child below nestled in her mother’s lap.

We waited and watched others leaving with their cookbooks and PW T-shirts… a great gift for those who got their book signed.

Looks like someone is going to give a lot of cookbooks for Christmas.

This is a fuzzy shot of Pioneer Woman going in to her signing area  … people were so happy to see her that they clapped when she arrived and she wasn’t late either …she was way early.

She spoke for a minute, but I couldn’t hear her very well. The sound system was iffy and I was too busy checking out her boots.

It was all go right from the beginning and the smile you see below at the beginning of the evening was still there…

…when I got my chance to say hello and have my books signed.

That’s me telling her all about the time I told my daughter about my blog (when it was new) and her response afterwards. After taking a look around my blog, I asked my daughter what she thought about it and she said, ” It’s okay, but you’re no Pioneer Woman.”  No Pioneer Woman…I was the one who introduced her to the PW in the first place!

She’s still gracious and smiling even after I asked Patrice to take about four pictures of us.

Patrice and I finished up the evening with a signature from Betsy & Hyacinth and after picking up a T – shirt, we said our goodbyes and headed for home.

One last shot before I go.

I may not be Pioneer Woman, but thanks to her cookbook I can sure cook like her now… so fire up the oven John, I’m coming home!  Oops… I forgot myself for a minute and started talking like a rancher’s wife.

I’ll be back in a day or two…blogging from our little village in Cornwall. See you then.

Resurrection Sunday – Flighty

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Resurrection: Middle English, from Old French, from Late Latin resurrēctiō, resurrēctiōn-, from Latin resurrēctus, past participle of resurgere, to rise again.

or this

The act of bringing back to practice, notice, or use; revival

I’ve been thinking a bit about my first blog site where I left a few things behind that were important to me. Intimate and personal, they just sit there now waiting for someone to stumble across them. Sometimes, I feel a need to go back through my memories and resurrect some for another look. I find it interesting that my feelings haven’t changed much since I wrote the post below about year ago. This seems a bit silly on reflection because while I haven’t done everything on the list of ” shoulds ” that nag at me for attention, I really have accomplished quite a lot in the last twelve months.

I’m going home to America in a few days and while I usually rent a car at the airport, this time my daughter will be picking me up. This is the longest amount of time we have ever gone without seeing each other and I am so looking forward to spending time with her. Six months seems to go by so quickly when there’s a laundry list of goals you want to complete, but when you’re away from the people you love, it can feel like forever.

There’s a song from my teen years that was a hit for an English band you may remember called Bad Company, it’s a remake of a Little Feat song and it’s been more recently associated with Alison Krauss. When I hear it in my head, it’s always the rockin version that Bad Company sings, but the best I could find was the version below by Alison Krauss. It’s a good one too, but a little tame for the amount of excitement I’m going to feel stepping out the doors of the airport.

If you have a minute, take a listen to the soundtrack that keeps running through my brain today … because as confused as I get going forward sometimes, my heart still knows the way back to Atlanta.

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Flighty

October 17, 2008

Like these birds, who could not seem rest for more than a minute or two, I feel flighty and unsettled. I watched them yesterday as they duplicated the same pattern over and over. Back and forth they went, flying across the same piece of ground never going more than a few feet from where they started before going back to the beginning. Appearing as if they were assembling for a grand take off on an important journey, they would lift off in mass with a great flap of wings only to fly around for a minute and go back and start over.

As the seasons change, I feel a sense of anxiety to get certain things done. None come easily and all require a fair amount of self education. I struggle with the need for perfection and I’m never quite satisfied with my writing, my photography, or the pace at which I allow myself to develop. It’s about fear really, fear that there won’t be enough time to do everything before the seasons change, both literally and metaphorically and I am out of time.

Today, while my head is filled with flighty unsettled thoughts, my spirit, like the birds going back and forth, is struggling to stay focused and serene. Instinctually, like the birds, I know the direction of my journey. Lord knows, I’ve been working out flight plans in my mind for years. Today, I resolve to just be grateful for motion, even if it’s scattered, and tomorrow, well, maybe tomorrow will be a day filled with full flight.