Our Lovely Saturday: Road Rage, Football and My Clean Car

Eddie the Cat takes over the dog bed

The doggies have gone back south and it's just me and the cats and the kid that lives in the basement. We made a grocery run today and you would have thought I was buying for a fraternity, not a grown person + half grown person; chips, cracker and cheese tray, little debbies, guacamole and chips. I did, however, buy carrots to dip in hummus and they had colored peppers on sale so there is a stir fry in our immediate future. It was nice to have the basement kid along for the grocery shopping, though. He even wore real shorts and not pajama pants.

The beginnings of fall color but nothing dramatic

I would like to make a public service announcement to all people who will be visiting our lovely Northeast Georgia mountains this Autumn. In the words of my former spouse: act like you've been here before. I took the scenic route home from the grocery store, not because it's scenic but because traffic around the town square was stacked up and I wanted to avoid the square. Instead I got vacationers from Fulton County, Georgia and somewhere in Virginia who were neither familiar with speed limit (as in, driving AT LEAST the speed limit) or the reason their cars have blinkers. It's rare for me to have road rage up here in the hills but I surely had a raging case of it today. Then I turned on the road we live off of and got stuck behind someone whose car was apparently missing a gas pedal. It was pure insanity. I told Austin to remind me to avoid going to town on the weekends until at least Thanksgiving.

Hey Oscar: I got your BLANKET! Love, Little Kitty

I know that I should be grateful for the tourists. Tourism saved this little corner of the world. I'm grateful for tourist dollars but it's amazing how inconsiderate people get when there's a little color on the trees. And honestly, there's not that much color yet. There is some. The weather feels very fall-like. I had to actually close the windows this afternoon.

It's like when Americans go to Paris and they can't speak French and they expect all the French people to just figure out what they mean. Our language here is niceness. It's a slower pace but that doesn't mean you drive twenty miles under the speed limit. Not an exaggeration. And to really appreciate this part of the world, you have to have consideration for your fellow drivers. By not driving twenty miles under the speed limit. Or pulling out right in front of them. Or turning right from the main lane and not the turning lane. Without a blinker. Or changing lanes without using a blinker. All of these things happened.

So I came home and ate guacamole and chips and drank warm apple cider and watched football. And when I got tired of football I watched a Modern Family marathon.

Austin wanted to buy a cinnamon broom at the store and he placed it on the mantle behind my lovely little Fall themed decor and it looks really awesome. It's like... the kid is Pigpen... and then he has these little bursts of greatness that make me think that all the gay men in his life growing up did more for him than teach him the value of a mani-pedi and the words to every show tune ever written. Every now and then the kid has real style.

This afternoon he offered to clean out my car. He's offered to clean out my car about twenty-eleven times in the past three years and has not actually cleaned it ever. Also, "clean out" is a subjective term. My "cleaned out" and his cleaned out are different animals. Like a cat and an orange, different animals. He actually did a decent job. I mean, it still needs the upholstery ripped out and replaced shampooed. That car has been through a lot... I can't tell you how many times I ate all three meals in the car between rushing to get kids to school before work... taking my lunch break in my car... having dinner in the car while waiting for a kid to get out of sports practice or dance rehearsal or... whatever. It's taken me to Florida and back more times than I care to remember. It's been a good car and I haven't been a good owner. MY KIDS have not been good owners with all their drips and spills and trash left behind. Austin had the audacity to lecture me about not keeping my car clean. I'm like... pot meet kettle... his room usually looks like he could be on Hoarders.

I'm watching the Florida State / Clemson game. I explained why it's important (rankings) and Austin said, "so is this the game I need to watch to be able to have something to talk about with my brothers?" I said, "well, it's a start."  That child does not get sports. He just lives in a different dimension, the gamer dimension. His brothers are rabid Florida State fans. I am not sure why. It's random. I just buy things for them with FSU on it and listen to their long analysis of reasons why they're the best team ever. I suffer the Gator hate. I even let them burn one of my Florida shirts. But... to be fair... it was really my ex-husband's and there was a little retribution in it for me too.

Just had a quick chat with my grandma. She didn't have any new information about Kathryn Holmes but she did want to let me know that her cousin Kate Hall used to own a millinery shop in Columbus, Georgia. I don't know if that gets me any closer to Kathryn but I haven't given up on figuring it out. I love a good history mystery. Grandma wanted to know if I would be at her birthday party brunch. I told her I wouldn't miss it. I explained that it was going to be painful and that I'm trying to arrange it so I don't have to drive so that I can take pain meds - which take the edge off but don't make me loopy.

I'm actually closer to my old self when I'm on drugs because the pain isn't so bad that it distracts me. Without pain meds, the pain is always there. You can't help but look for the escape hatch in every situation because you know there is going to be a point where you just can't take it any more. Going out to eat, especially in a large group is a big old floppy pain souffle for me. I'm looking forward to seeing her... seeing family members... a good  meal that I didn't have to cook... but I am so afraid of the pain. My pain doctor wants to put me on anxiety meds and I just think it's a waste. Give me better pain meds or... here's a thought - FIX ME... and then I will cease to be anxious.

Anyways... I guess I've rambled on long enough. Happy Weekend, y'all. Love and hugs!