New Thanksgiving & Old Bulldawg Memories (Who you callin' old?)

Mama visiting - picture taken last year

Thanksgiving is OVER and I survived a five day pre-cleaning, pre-cooking sprint; the actual day of marathon; and the three day after-party.  And all I got was a lousy cold.

But I survived the first in-law visit to our humble abode and, as God and my friend Laura as my witness, I was on good behavior.

Unfortunately Laura left before the future in-law, I'll call her Sadie Sue, removed her dentures to enjoy an early evening second Thanksgiving meal.  But Laura was there for the other 'delightful' happenings (I'm gritting my own teeth here).

Laura was my ears and eyes as I was stuck in my tiny kitchen ("Where is your dishwasher?" Sadie Sue gasped as she stared at the dishes piled in the sink.)  I accepted her somewhat distracted help then shooed her outside with the others so Laura could get the full effect of Sadie Sue. 

It was not pretty.  I will not go into details, but suffice to say my concerns are not out in left field.  By the time Sadie Sue and her family climbed back into the silver Hummer, Sweetie and I breathed a sigh of relief.  Thanksgiving was over...but Mama was coming to visit.   (Cue the theme from "Jaws")

Just kidding!  Mama's visit was very nice and brief, just a three day, two night sleepover.  By the time she arrived after I got home from work on Saturday, I was actually looking forward to seeing her.  Sweetie was, well, happy too.  Really.

We decided to take a break from Thanksgiving left-overs and headed toward town to our favorite Chinese restaurant.  Knowing it was Saturday night, we were surprised to find we were almost the only diners there.  Then we remembered "The Game" was on and this place did not have a television set anywhere (which is why we like it).  The food was delicious and we still made it home to see the second half of "The Game".

Daddy graduated from Georgia Tech, so the first 18 or so years of my life, I was a Rambling Wreck from Georgia Tech.  The first cuss word I learned was 'hell' from their fight song.  I remember singing it at the top of my lungs.  Daddy LOVED Tech and had season tickets for years.  I knew how much he hated giving them up when it became obvious that he was unable to physically attend the home games.

I even had to talk to the representative from Tech when it was time to think about college.  Now, back then, Tech had very few women although the nice representative blithely told me Tech was the fastest growing girls school in the Southeast.  Now it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.  Going from a few to several in a few years time would increase your percentages.  But I'm not a rocket scientist and I told the nice Georgia Tech rrepresentative that math was not my best subject. 

Ok, so I went to the University of Georgia and became a Bulldawg.  Daddy tried to talk me out of it, but I think secretly, way deep down, he was thrilled I was going to Athens.  I knew for a fact, Daddy enjoyed going to UGA games whenever his buddies invited him.  By then, Mama and Daddy had the Green Machine Motor Home, so I became the designated parking place holder when they were headed to Athens.

The favored parking spot was on Ag Hill in a small lot near the Science Library.  Late on Friday afternoon before game day, I would park my blue Pinto (1973 model - did not explode) in the exact, designated spot Daddy desired.  Then on game day morning, I would receive a call at the crack of dawn telling me that they were leaving Macon and to be ready to move my car in two hours. 

The tail gate party was supreme and I was thrilled to be included.  One game, I ditched my student ticket when Dr. Popejoy invited me to sit with him in primo, expensive seats with arms next to the press box.  It seems that Mrs. Helen was unable to go at the last minute, so he had an extra.  I think the seats were actually Mr. Comer's.  it was indeed the finest, forty yard line, covered by a deck, seats with arms seat that I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying.  And I could see Larry Munson as he called the game.  It was really neat!

These days watching "The Game" at home is just as fun, if not better because of the amazing camera angles and shots that fans in the stands might not see.  But I do get tired of the constant chatter from the announcers and I miss the roar of the crowd as the team takes the field and the Redcoat Marching Band music in the stands.  Television does not do justice to the wonderful sounds of University of Georgia Football.  Goooooo Dawgs!

Thanksgiving Anniversary

Jack & Corky Holliday, Spring 1993

Happy Thanksgiving Y'all!

Sixty one years ago today, Cordelia Dessau married Jackson Riley Holliday.  It was a small, at-home wedding.  The Methodist preacher stood in front of Grandmother's living room fireplace as the guests gathered around. The black and white photographs show a happy couple.  They drove to Florida for their honeymoon then returned to Macon to make their home together, first on Clisby Place, then in the house Daddy designed on Vista Circle.  We always called it 'The House That Jack Built'.

They celebrated their Golden Anniversary in 1999 with Sweetie and me in Atlanta.  It was also Thanksgiving Day and we were setting up at the Pride of Dixie Antique Show.  Set up was always on Thanksgiving and the show opened on Friday.

Mama decided that they would drive up and take us out to eat after we unloaded and set up our booths.  Since most, if not all, restaurants were closed by late afternoon that day, she made a reservation at the Simpsonwood Conference and Retreat Center located on the Chattahoochee River.  It is run by the North Georgia United Methodist Conference and is a beautiful and idyllic location.  It was overcast and cold late that afternoon as the four of us drove over the river and through the woods to get to this place.

We were pleasantly surprised and delighted to find such a lovely venue for our Thanksgiving dinner.  There were two other large family groups celebrating Thanksgiving there and they graciously welcomed our small group into the dining room.  The various families included several young children who all were well behaved, thank goodness.  The food, turkey with all the trimmings, was amazingly good for such a large, banquet-style facility and we all enjoyed the fellowship we shared. 

As we walked out after our pumpkin pie dessert, a member of one of the families stopped us to ask if we could be related to him.  Were we from Uncle Joe's side of the family, he politely asked with a twinkle in his eye.  We all chuckled, knowing the answer.  We were the only white guests that evening!

It's a Hooo, Hooo, Hooo

Late this afternoon as I walked Presley up the hill in our usual walking direction, I heard the soft hooo, hooo, hooo from across the road. We stopped walking when she paused and looked up. I followed her gaze and watched an owl land on a pine tree branch above our heads. The owl was a mottled brown and as I stared at it, it blended into the pine bark. I blinked a few times, trying to focus fifty some odd year old eyes. This must have been the owl I had just heard.

By now, Presley is sniffing around the pine straw so I was about to cluck to her to move on (I know, clucking is for horses but old habits die hard). I glanced back up in the tree and another owl landed on a branch above the first one. Wow! Then the first owl took off, headed toward the lake and in a few seconds the other one followed. Their wing span was surprisingly large. They were larger than I realized.

Thanks to The University of Georgia, Museum of Natural History for their Georgia's Wildlife Website, I discovered that these were Great Horned Owls, common in Georgia and the largest owl in the Southern United States. Their call is a long series of hooo's (the website used 3 o's).  They live in wooded areas and hunt mostly at night.

Presley and I continued out walk as daylight slipped away, enjoying the almost full moon that rose over the quiet lake. And as we walked through the dark woods, I called out a long series of hooo's, hoping for an answer.

The Electric Horseman (1979) - Stealing the horse (HQ)

Enjoy a tidbit from the movie.

My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys - Willie Nelson

This is the opening to the movie The Electric Horseman.

Be Still My Beating Heart

Now that I'm working part-time, yippee, my off days are busier than ever, but I did manage to sit down yesterday afternoon to watch The Oprah Show.  I wanted to see Robert Redford.  Oprah's guest was Barbra Streisand and Bob was the 'surprise guest'.  Barbra is a fine entertainer, but enough about her.

When Robert Redford walked out to the stage, my pulse quickened and my heart started beating just a little faster.  Yes he is older, but he seems comfortable in his appearance.  My questions are about his hair.  It looked blond with grey around his face.  Does he color it or was it a really good toupee?  Has he had plastic surgery?  Hmmmm.  Don't care.

According to my research, Bob is 74 years old now.  He was 37 when he played Hubble in The Way We Were in 1973.  That was 37 years ago.  He was a fine 37 then, he is a fine 74 now.  That was a good movie and I've seen it often, but it is not my favorite Redford movie. 

My favorite Redford movie is The Electric Horseman with Willie Nelson and Jane Fonda.  Bob plays Sonny Steele, a rodeo star who sold out to big business, gets fed up, steals a then-million dollar horse and takes off in the desert.  Jane Fonda plays a reporter who is trying to get the story. Willie Nelson plays Sonny's sidekick and that was his screen debut.  The horse is beautiful.  The scenery is beautiful.  Bob is, well, you know.  That movie was made in 1979 when he was 43.  

I do like other Robert Redford movies, but put him on a horse and I'm a goner.

What Did You Do In The War Daddy?

Jackson R. Holliday

My brother and I often asked Daddy about the war. World War II. He proudly served in the Army Signal Corp. Mama still has his Army trunk in the basement, but she gave his uniform, pins, and training manuals to a World War II museum that wanted memorabilia from the Signal Corp, with our blessing.

His trunk was in my Grandmother's attic for years, along with my Uncle Pete's trunk from the Navy. I lived in the Hines Terrace house twice over the years and stumbled over those trunks many times. It is a wooden trunk and heavy as lead. Ask Sweetie Pie. He had to bring them down when we sold the little brick house. I want that trunk, but don't really have room here; hopefully Mama will continue to store it.

 Daddy went into the Signal Corp while at Georgia Tech. He was sent to the University of Maine for training. He had graduated from Lanier High School in the ROTC program, so he knew how to march a platoon. After a few days, he was tapped to march the men although he was a lowly Corporal (I think that rank is right. Forgive me if I'm wrong. It's too late to call Mama.)

When Sweetie and I married, we honeymooned in Maine and drove up to Orano and walked around the University campus. It was beautiful and I think Daddy was thrilled that I took the time to visit. He and Mama had made the trip up there a few years prior and found the dorm the Army used when he was there.

After training, Daddy was put on a troop ship and sailed through the Panama Canal. The ship was crowded and the sea was rough. Rations were limited. Daddy, a healthy member of Tech's swim team, wasn't bothered by seasickness. He and a few buddies would sit at table during meals and gently sway together, causing less hardy boys to hastily jump up and leave the mess, leaving their uneaten rations and more food for them.

Sailing through the Panama Canal was a highlight of Daddy's life. He was fascinated by the engineering feats involved to transport the huge ships from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean. He talked about it the rest of his life. He saw the world in the Army and was also intrigued by his visit to Japan. It is hard to imagine the awe these young men felt, most of whom had probably never been out of their state, much less their country, when they arrived on foreign soil.

I wish I could sit down with him again and ask him about the War as an adult. We are fortunate that there is a video of Daddy talking about his life. It was a project through Georgia Tech and in it he talks about his service to his country. I took so much for granted, his memories and recollections of a time long ago I had only read about in books and seen in movies. I'm sure all of his stories were sanitized for children's ears, but we loved to hear them over and over.

What did you do in the War Daddy?

Trouble Sleeping?

The other night a Facebook friend posted that she could not sleep.  I know that feeling too.  I'll toss and turn for hours it seems, trying to find a comfortable spot, trying to stay warm.  Suddenly I'm too hot, so I kick the covers off.  I definitely can not sleep if the room is too hot.  Studies prove we all sleep better when the air is cooler.  I agree with that.

When I can't sleep, I try to stay quiet and calm so not to disturb my Sweetie Pie.  He is not so calm.  I can always tell when he can't sleep.  He's up and down, walking to the kitchen, to the bathroom.  That causes the animals to shift and move too.  And by morning the covers on his side are twisted up like a pretzel. 

Presley in her bed with my books

We like to read in bed at night, before lights out.  I have a huge stack of books in my 'waiting to be read' pile next to the bed.  I have to make sure the pile doesn't topple over onto Presley's dog bed.  She doesn't like it when that happens.  Recently she has been staying in the bed with us.

I finally managed to get their picture on here!

Reathie is on the left, Otis on the right

That is funny to me.  When Sweetie Pie and I married, my two dogs Reathie & Otis slept on the bed with me.  First of all, there was room, since I had been sleeping single in the double bed (ok, it was a queen size), there was room for both of them.  After we married, our first real fight was over the dogs in the bed.  He won, I cried, the dogs got over it.  So now when Presley hops up, instead of chasing her off the bed, he loves on her and acts like she is the best thing since sliced bread. (Ok, she is. Really.)

I have recently discovered the author Harlan Coben and I am officially obsessed with his character Myron Bolitar.  It has just been in the last few years that I ventured out of my comfort zone of reading and I have to admit, I missed some really great books.  Thank goodness for Kema's Bookstore in Gray!  It is a wonderful used bookstore and Kema will find whatever she doesn't have in stock.  

That's the problem when I read at night.  I will stay up late, late, late when the book is really great!  Just one more page, just one more chapter.  After Sweetie complains for the umpteenth time, I'll reluctantly put the book down and try to sleep.  Good characters stay in my brain while I'm trying to relax and sleep; currently Myron is barreling through my thoughts.

Here are two remedies I practice when I have trouble falling asleep.  For years, instead of counting sheep, I count jumps. I'm riding a big, bay Thoroughbred jumper and we are racing through a rolling, green course.  As horse and rider approach the first jump, I can feel the horse gather himself under me as he sails through the air and over the jump.  One.  Now we gallop down a small grassy hill and again, I feel him shift as he leaps across a wide stream.  Two.  And on and on. (btw...I never rode jumpers, but I think it would be a lot of scary fun)

This is me on Darby Dare, 1970

He was definitely the prettiest horse I ever owned!

The second one is more personal to me.  No, it's not what you think!  In my mind I walk into the barn at Ficklings Farm and down the wide aisle to Darby's stall.  Darby Dare was my second Saddlebred and I boarded him for a while out on Rivoli.  I can visualize every inch of that place.  So, I grab a lead, hook it to his leather halter and lead him up to the cross-ties.  Then I begin grooming him, brushing his bay coat until it gleams in the sunlight like an antique mahogany table.  His grooming routine is from head to tail, ears to hooves.  Then I walk to the boarder's tack room and grab my saddle.  He grunts as I tighten the girth around his belly and I have to remember to check it before I get on.


Then I go through the process of bridling him.  I can almost feel his soft mouth as I slide my finger in the back recesses of his mouth to get him to open for the bits.  Hopefully, by this time, I'm drowsy enough to relax into sleep.  Most of the time I don't make it past the grooming routine.  And for the last resort, I'll get up, grab my book and head to the living room where I can read for hours undisturbed.  Sweet dreams y'all!

Then Sings My Soul

Happy Sunday!

A favorite from a good ol' Georgia boy, Alan Jackson.  When I was in the seventh grade Sunday school class at my Methodist church, our leaders were all male.  That was the first time I ever had a male teacher.  All my teachers so far had been female in Sunday school and in grammar school. 

Unfortunately, I don't remember the gentleman's name who was our song leader, but I can see him as clear as day as he sat down at the old, beaten up up-right piano in that small Sunday school classroom and started to play.  We sang old hymns every Sunday and thus began my life-long appreciation for traditional gospel music. 

The other thing I clearly remember was that my neighbor was one of our leaders.  Now, I had seen Mr. Neighbor almost daily for the past few years and his children were close neighborhood friends.  He was a fine man and I was fortunate to know him personally as well as through the church.

Sunday evenings in our little neck of the woods would find several neighbor families hanging out together.  As the adults enjoyed their cocktails, the kids watched Ed Sullivan.  We ate take-out pizza from the Shrimp Boat up on Vineville.  That was the only pizza I ever had until Shakey's opened on Riverside Drive.  Those Shakey's sing-alongs always reminded me of my seventh grade Sunday school class, except for the pitchers of beer our parents shared.

Maybe we'll have pizza for supper tonight!

Giant Dog Lurking Behind Fridge

I glanced up from my computer and noticed this.  To me it looks like a giant dog's head.  I normally do not like anyone to see my messy house, but in this case, I thought this was too funny not to share.

Can you figure out what it is?