The Greenville Zoo with Mommy and Elyse

Today, Anna and Elyse drove 125 miles northeast to go to the Greenville Zoo--Elyse was just desperate to go somewhere and do something, and a zoo is a fun and relatively safe outdoor place to be, and Anna was excited about going to a new zoo. (Jessica didn't want to go and it seemed contrary to the spirit of such an adventure to force her to participate, so she and I stayed home.)

They did have a good time on their adventure, in spite of the fact that the amount of time it took to go through the whole zoo and see everything was less than half the time it took to just to get there. (That sounds like a word problem, so I'll put it more plainly: they drove two-and-a-half hours for an hour's walk through the zoo. But they enjoyed it, so it was worth it.) (Frankly we're a little spoiled, living fairly close to a great zoo like Zoo Atlanta, but that doesn't mean we can't appreciate other zoos.)

Here are some of the pictures they texted me throughout the day, starting with one from a McDonald's where they stopped for breakfast:

(No, a cardinal isn't usually a zoo animal, but they thought it was amusing that it was helping itself to the ducks' food.)

(That's not an ostrich, it's a rhea.)

On the way home, since they still had plenty of time, they stopped at Tugaloo State Park in Lavonia, Georgia; they didn't stay long, but did send me a couple of pictures:

(That's a rather neglected miniature golf course.)

(I think that's Lake Hartwell she's wading in.)

The Gwinnett Environmental and Heritage Center with Jessica

Today Jessica and I went to the Gwinnett Environmental and Heritage Center to walk around and take pictures. I've been there a couple of times before, but this was the first time I've been there when the visitor's center was open (it was closed for a few months because of the pandemic):

We were fortunate enough to be allowed inside the center's Chesser-Williams House, an 1850's house that was donated to Gwinnett County Parks a few years ago, moved to the Gwinnett Environmental and Heritage Center, and restored:

The house is beautifully adorned with folk art painting, both the front porch and inside in one of the rooms (including on the ceiling!):

(That's the ceiling!)

The rest of the house isn't so lavishly painted, but is charmingly furnished and decorated:

(The eggs and apples above, and the food on the table below, are all plastic.)

Unfortunately, the upstairs isn't restored yet so we couldn't go up there, but we could look up the stairs:

Before we left the center, Jessica sat down to take a picture of the sky (and to rest, I think):

Bibliosquirrel

 

Bibliosquirrel

Grayson, GA

October 8, 2020

Pencils on my desk

 

Pencils on my desk

Grayson, GA

October 7, 2020

Nostalgic and Pensive

One unexpected way in which getting well into middle age has affected me is that when I learn that some artifact of my youth--a person, a building, a store; nearly anything--is no longer here with us, even when it's someone or something that wasn't that important to me when I was growing up, I find myself unaccountably nostalgic and pensive.

I grew wistful a few years ago when I found out that Doug Henning had been dead for more than a decade, though I hadn't been especially attached to Henning in my youth (other than, I will admit, a certain amount of hair envy, but that's a whole other story). Though this fact shouldn't really have moved me at all, I felt sadness and disappointment when I learned that, many years ago, Shields and Yarnell had gotten divorced. It's more understandable that one day eight or ten years ago, when I drove by the site of the Ingleside Presbyterian Church building I went to every Sunday when I was growing up and saw that it had been razed, I was very saddened indeed. Should it make me melancholy when I realize that I'll never again shop at Treasure Island or Richway, or never again eat at the Wendy's Superbar? Probably not...but sometimes it does. These are all people and places that I don't think about every day, but when I do remember any one of them, I get sentimental and stop whatever I'm doing to stare off into space for a while.

It's silly, I know. The world we live in today is filled with wonderful people and buildings and stores that contribute to the richness of our lives, even if they weren't around when I was eight or ten or twelve. There's nothing magical about someone, or something, having been on TV, or on Lawrenceville Highway, in the 1970s when I was a kid.

But yesterday both Helen Reddy and Mac Davis died. I haven't thought much about either of them in years, but I'm sorry they're gone.

Raindrops on the car window

Raindrops on the car window

September 29, 2020

Snellville, Georgia

McDaniel Farm Park with Jessica

Today Jessica and I went to McDaniel Farm Park in Duluth to take pictures. This time I got some good pictures of her, unlike last week at Freeman's Mill, and here are some of them (as well as some pictures she isn't in):

I don't know who this lady walking her dog is, but I like this picture of her trotting along down the slightly muddy path, and I hope she wouldn't mind me posting it here. (I also hope the dog wouldn't mind.)

Freeman's Mill with Jessica

Today Jessica and I went to Freeman's Mill Park in Lawrenceville to walk around and take some pictures. Here are some of the picture I took:

It was fairly busy, as you can see, but that's good, since what Jessica really likes to do--and I do too, as you can see above--is to sneak around and try to get surreptitious pictures of strangers without them knowing it (I know there's some redundancy in that phrase, "surreptitious" implying as it does "without them knowing it," but I'm sticking by it, dadgummit). It's often called street photography, and, as the Wikipedia entry says, it "features unmediated chance encounters and random incidents within public places," which basically means "surreptitious pictures of strangers," and also, "[s]treet photography does not necessitate the presence of a street or even the urban environment," which basically means these nosy pictures I took of people at a county park qualify as art, dadgummit.

On our garage wall: A Tanka

On our garage wall,

Rackets are waiting for Spring.

Evening approaches.

The rain continues to fall,

And soon it will be Autumn.

Upside-down planters: A Haiku

Upside-down planters;

Some orange paint, some white dots--

Now they are mushrooms!

Lines on brick and glass: A Haiku

Lines on brick and glass;

Angles, sunlight and shadow.

Behind, noon traffic.

Pumpkin spice creamer?: A Tanka

"Pumpkin spice creamer?

But it's not even fall yet!"

That's true, I know, but--

let me enjoy my coffee,

my first pleasure of the day.

Zoo Atlanta with Elyse

Today Elyse and I went to Zoo Atlanta, one of our first outings to anywhere farther than a couple of miles from home since the coronavirus pandemic began. We had to wear masks most of the time (which is the correct requirement; I don't know that I would have been willing to go if masks had been optional), and the path through was very rigid and set, unlike the meandering back and forth you can usually get away with, but it was nice to be out and to be...well, anywhere, frankly, besides home.

Here are some of the pictures I took while we were there:

(Elyse did wear her mask most of the time, but obviously she took it off to drink.)

(They are so like our cats at home, these lions. And also not.)