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Browsing Tag: #roadtrip
Wouldn’t it be nice to remember things as you wished they happened, but not as the actually did? Well, one of the small joys of being a tortured writer, is that I can rewrite history to my liking and visit it at will. I’m not usually one to bide my time. I like carpe diem and all that jazz. Dessert first. Explosive. But that’s not always wise, as I’ve come to learn. I found out about the indiscretion through his own stupidity. Isn’t that how it goes? These cocky men, underestimating the intuition of the woman they’ve been sharing a life with. They also tend to underestimate our cunning vengeance, thinking we are much to sweet to react with such murderous contempt. And so, after I talked to my attorney and realized that, yet again, it had not served me well to be a self-sufficient woman for so long. Because I had always had a steady income, and the lodgings originated in my family, and we had no children, I would get little to nothing from the man who had so easily taken my trust and reputation and totally wrecked the illusion I had of our marriage. I decided I would get it all, anyway. And the sooner the better, because no doubt he was squandering every dime on that crack whore. It was coming up on my birthday, and of course I preferred to celebrate out…
I just got this sweatshirt and it should tell you everything you need to know about me. Although I’ve made plenty of good decisions since then (and probably even more terrible ones), my last standout good idea was Charleston for Thanksgiving. My last two visits were less than mediocre, as I spent most of my time on the beach. That isn’t my cup of tea for more than a day. But love is about compromise. So anyway, this Thanksgiving dinner found me on an island, sipping something fruity, and eating lobster. I mean, what’s not to love? I was torn, sure. I love to cook, and had been making my own Thanksgiving meal at home for several years now. It sure cut down on the stress of having to be here and there. Probably a little selfish, but when I worked at Co-op I had to be back at work on Friday morning so it was exhausting spending the whole day running and the general mayhem. I didn’t have the usual crew coming this year, everybody seemed to be up in the air on plans, and I didn’t have any solid ones, either. There were several places I was welcomed, thankfully, but I wasn’t really feeling it. Additionally, I had several vacation days to burn. I couldn’t see rattling around my house for a week, even if it did mean having all the time in…
I’m going to tell you a story. When my friend and I went to Jonesborough a few weeks ago, we were on our way back to Sevier County but I hadn’t quite satisfied my antique foraging itch. I was keeping my eyes peeled for the places along the road I had noticed on the drive in. I finally spotted the one I wanted–a white, well kept farmhouse. Sometimes with these places you just can’t tell. They look almost abandoned, & like spiders would be crawling just beyond your hand when reaching for something that caught your eye. But not this one. This building set off the divided highway just a bit, just enough to be private, & had a red metal sign –the kind that would creak a bit when there was wind–out by the road proclaiming, simply, “Antiques”. There was no wind that day, & the sign was silent. We traveled up the gravel road, split by a strip of cropped green grass, until we stopped at the end near the house. There was a massive, weathered barn to our left, on a little hill. A knoll. Another “Antiques” sign stood near the gray board barn. A small “Antiques” sign, up against the house, next to an obvious addition. A concrete walkway met us in the driveway that led to the shop. We followed it. Around the door, there were several placards…
