Patchwork Prose and Verse
We savored last Saturday, March 18, in Pine Mountain, Georgia on F. D. Roosevelt State Park Campground. Here’s a slice of our day, in pictures.
If you’ve ever been to Savannah, Georgia and looked at a list of the top 10 things to do in the historic Georgia city with Spanish Moss draping the Live Oak trees and horse-carriage tours going on from morning until night, then you know that visiting Leopold’s Ice Cream is at the top of the list! Or perhaps you have walked past not already knowing its fame and magic and noticed the perpetual line stretching down East Broughton Street across from the Savannah College of Art and Design. Leopold’s has a unique history, dating back to 1919, when 3 brothers from Greece opened the shop. The place is still an iconic ice cream parlor today, the kind with the classic round tables that make you want to share a banana split or an ice cream float with your sweetheart. The kind of place that brings back memories to every generation alive today and promises continuing traditions for the youngest children.
Every time we travel to Savannah, we make a visit to Leopold’s a priority. When I was recently in Savannah for a Literacy conference, I had the privilege of introducing four of my five grandchildren to all the delights of Leopold’s!
When you first enter the shop, you see the servers in their white caps and burgundy aprons, ready to serve you what you probably already know you want – or, to give you a taste of what you think you might like to try before deciding for sure. When I saw the Rose Petal flavor, I decided to be adventurous and check its bloom factor. It tasted exactly like a rose smells, so I ordered a kids’ cup and savored the flavor of this refreshing treat made from actual edible roses.
There’s a working old-time Jukebox over in the corner (see it behind River’s head in the picture?) that still plays songs for a mere quarter, and we listened to Chantilly Lace and The Bunny Hop as we ate our ice cream. The songs were made famous by locals or people who visited Georgia (the Johnny Mercer orchestra popularized The Bunny Hop, and the Johnny Mercer Theater is in downtown Savannah at the Civic Center).
Since I always bring home a surprise for my husband when he isn’t able to travel with me, I brought home matching Leopold’s t-shirts to help us remember one of our favorite places to sit and share one creamy confection with two spoons!
And we couldn’t leave out our grandchild who wasn’t able to go to Savannah for ice cream. We celebrated Aidan’s 13th birthday (belated by a week), and he chose Dairy Queen – – another classic ice cream joint!
Cheers for living life to the fullest ~ my hope is that no matter where you eat ice cream or drink coffee or amble along the path, you experience the magic in the moments!
“Creative living is stranger than other, more worldly pursuits. The usual rules do not apply.” – Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic
Something about photographs takes me back to the memories I hold dear. That’s why one of my goals this year is having several of my favorite pictures made into 16×20 canvas wood-framed wallhangings. So far, I have had 6 of them created, and I’m loving the feelings that they bring at the start of each day.
The first is an eagle that we watched from a hovercraft in Ketchikan, Alaska swooping down for fish in June 2022. The spectacular show inspired hundreds of photos, and I chose my favorite fraction of a second to place on my bathroom wall so that every morning, I start the day with sheer splendor and the gratefulness to have witnessed the majestic wingspan and precision of these birds.
Another is of our White Christmas on a farm in Kentucky at sunset. The angle and shades of light were mesmerizing, and they blend into the orange pop of energy contained in my walls – chosen specifically to be like a burst of citrus at daybreak ~ awakening me and rejuvenating my senses.
One I haven’t hung yet was taken at Dowdell’s Knob in Pine Mountain, Georgia when my son and his family were visiting with us in one of F. D. Roosevelt’s favorite picnic spots near his home at the Little White House in Warm Springs, Georgia. We had our own picnic, made s’mores, and enjoyed the scenery from atop the mountain. And the hidden secret here is that the newest grandbaby is in the picture – – (arriving in July).
Each adventure brings its own special moments, and Canvas on the Cheap helped me turn these into beautifully preserved photographs that bring me joy and gratefulness!
What is missing from many of our days is a true sense that we are enjoying the lives we are living. It is difficult to experience moments of happiness if we are not aware of what it is we genuinely love. We must learn to savor small, authentic moments that bring us contentment. – Sarah Ban Breathnach, Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy
Some Saturdays, we get up and head over to the local coffee shop on our town square. My husband orders coffee, a cinnamon roll, and a slice of breakfast casserole. I take my Optavia breakfast fueling along with me and order black coffee. We sit at a table near the fireplace, where we chat and enjoy the meanderings of those, like us, ambling about town on a Saturday morning.
When he has extra errands to run that will take an hour or so, he’ll drop me off at the back door of the bookstore across the square, where the comfy chairs are circled around an oval coffee table, and I’ll gather a handful of books, grab a Cherry Coke Zero from the store fridge, and throw my feet up and read.
The place is magical from the moment you walk into the store. The smell of books greets you, and the floors creak under your feet as you browse the shelves. On the walls, there are watercolors and photographs by local artists for sale, and on the counters there is also handmade jewelry and other gifts. The new books are up front, along with the book club books that are lined up according to the month they’ll be discussed. The heart of the store is the used books – $3 for paperbacks, and $5 for hardbacks. And the lighting is warm and welcoming, giving the perfect ambiance for comfortable reading. Sometimes they play slow jazz.
I go straight to the travel and adventure books to see if there is anything obscure that grabs me, and I begin my book stack there. I mostly hang out in the nonfiction, perusing the shelves and searching the spines for titles that spark my interest. When I have one armful’s stack, I glance at the fiction and keep moving toward my chair – the one with the matching ottoman. I plop down, throw my feet up, pop my Coke top, and take a long swig as I begin with first glances at the books. What’s in the Table of Contents? When was it written? What does the back cover say? What’s the format, and do I like it? Is the print big enough? What do the pages feel like? Does it smell real?
I’m picky.
Two members of my writing group have recently books – Starting From Scratch, about teaching poetry, and Kitchen Table Wisdom, about womens’ wisdom from ancestors with answers. I order these, and then I chat with two of the owners. Karen leads the writing group, and we share what we’re writing. I meet her daughter and grandson. I speak briefly with another owner, Chris, who is headed out for lunch, but always asks what I’m reading – so I tell her I’m reading around the United States, and I’ve just finished Stephen King’s On Writing for the New England states and am narrowing down my choice for the Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, and Wyoming states. I’m leaning towards Midnight at the Bright Ideas Bookstore.
Today, I narrow it down to two books: The Iditarod Fact Book and The Happiness of Pursuit. And then I wonder: How am I going to meet my goal of getting down to two and a half bookcases if I bring more home? I think there is math involved: if I get rid of more than I take in, will it work? Somebody who can do math, please – tell me that it will. These are small, authentic moments that bring me contentment – – and books are what I genuinely love.
Yesterday was the last day of five days of January’s Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. Each month, this writing group gathers to write and give positive feedback to at least three other writers. I took a break yesterday to pause and give thanks for my daughter Mallory on her birthday.
Yesterday’s prompt was to write a Postcard Poem. Using a postcard or a blank index card, you draw a vertical line to separate the address and the poem on the writing side. Here’s my Haiku poem, prompted by a suspension bridge I crossed in December at Fall Creek Falls in Tennessee:
tracking feet suspension bridges crossable risk-taking feat empowering treks
One of my creativity goals this year is taking more photographs. I’m not a talented artist who paints and draws, but I enjoy images and words. My daughters have always kept sketch pads and art projects going ~ they appreciate the spontaneity of lettering a Bible verse or sketching a face or landscape. I think “capturing the moment” is the artistic approach that appeals to me most. Life sometimes begs to be captured.
On a recent visit, my daughter asked me to share the photos we’d taken while we were out exploring in the snow. We’d worn our pajamas and snow shoes and had taken pictures of sunsets, snowdrifts, and squirrel statues. It’s the ultimate happiness for a mother, really, because pictures aren’t just pictures. They’re memories. That’s what she was really asking for ~ a jar of snow memory preserves. She wants to come back to our moments, just as I do. Score!
Something I hadn’t expected was the surprise of discovering photographs she had taken after I’d handed the camera over to her when I’d gone inside to thaw my toes. Scrolling back through these images, I found pictures I didn’t recognize. And then it hit me: these were images I was seeing through her eyes – the gift of glimpses that weren’t mine in the moment, but shared even now.
And so I logged in to my photo processing account and ordered some snapshots on real photo paper. Over the next week, I plan to send her three or four each day to bring smiles and memories. She’ll make a photo collage that will keep this day, these special shared moments, forever etched in her heart.
I will, too.
“Slow travel is being in a place long enough to experience it without having a strict itinerary. It isn’t about seeing everything but experiencing the soul of a place.”
― Bhavana Gesota, The Art of Slow Travel: See the World and Savor the Journey On a Budget
In April, I took a girls’ trip with my sister-in-law to north Georgia and North Carolina. We ambled around Gibbs Gardens in Ball Ground, Georgia at a leisurely pace, admiring the tiers of tulips and daffodils before embarking on the scenic drive to the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, North Carolina, where we sat by the huge stone fireplace and sipped coffee in those relaxing wooden rocking chairs you see in the mountains in places where life is simpler and a fresher type of air cleans the lungs and awakens the senses.
“I’m loving this,” I told her. “I don’t feel rushed, and it’s a more relaxed pace than the itinerary I usually keep when traveling. I zip from place to place, and I don’t generally sit down and breathe until day’s end.” I was especially thinking about the EF Tour I’d taken with students to Europe in June 2019, when we’d visited four countries in ten days with a full day of air travel there and back as two of those days. It had drained every bit of me!
Sitting in the huge stone-walled lobby, I noticed the quotes on the rocks in the wall. On a breakneck-paced trip, I would have never noticed such a detail. As I observed more, I discovered that they were scattered throughout the hotel, and I visually scaled the walls on a self-secret scavenger hunt, making pictures, taking the time to ponder each one and to consider why it was selected out of all the quotes they could have chosen to etch there.
We stumbled upon the gingerbread house display from the annual competition and noticed each captivating detail of these winning designs. Further down the hall, we found the desk F. Scott Fitzgerald used during his time at the Grove Park Inn. Our room was directly across the hall from the two rooms that were “his” at the inn. We strolled through the gift shops, too, taking time to peruse the books about the history of this historic hotel. We each bought one and returned to the great fireplace to read them.
That’s why months later, when I saw the book The Art of Slow Travel, I knew it would be my next read. Four months into 2022, I was already beginning to realize that a more relaxed pace when traveling has more than mere physical benefits. Throughout 2022, most every trip that didn’t involve our camper held a hard lesson about taking life at a slower pace, lugging less on the journey, and savoring more tranquil moments.
My experience goals for 2023 are to cut back on entertainment in the form of concerts, sports, plays, and movies and instead focus on the experiences that are found outdoors – kayaking, hiking, long walks, conversations over orange spiced tea and playlists by the fire pit (my son and daughter in law gave us one for Christmas). It’s time to open the windows and relax the pace. To breathe. To embrace slow travel not only on trips, but as a daily living practice.
Common Threads 