September 29, 2010

God, religion, bitches and shit...

The biggest problem I have with people in general is hypocrisy. The soap box arena is peppered with topics that could cause someone to sit and write for hours, eventually all of them come down to just plain talking out of your ass.

I read musings by people that profess to be something that they aren't. They have no sense of humor and can't begin to understand what people are really like. I'm reclusive by nature, well it started out by nature, coming from a painful shyness, but has developed over time to being reclusive by choice...

When I deal with people in groups I give the benefit of the doubt. Going to a bad restaurant for example... The service is bad, the food not so good, the floors dirty, etc etc.. I don't usually complain while I'm there. I just don't go back. I'm not going to waste my time sending food back unless its something really just wrong, like a hair or bug in the food, or, as happened one time, the food smells exactly like fecal matter... If I order it well done and its medium, meh.. no big deal. Julie and I went to O'Charley's in Newnan once and watched our waitress talking up a guy near the bar who was finished eating. We waited for a long time, this was back in the day when there were smoking sections. I asked for an ashtray and she told me to go ahead and light up, she would be right back with it... Then she poured her special friend another glass of beer from a pitcher and stood there for a while longer as my smoke burned down. When it had reached 'critical' stage and needed to be flicked I called out to her and she turned around and told me to just "ash on the floor" So I did... I sat as she continued to talk to captain super stud until my smoke had burned all the way down to the filter and I lit another. When that smoke had burned down almost to the filter I heard her tell her buddy, "I'll run and get your check..." As she passed the table with a big grin, I said, "How about that ashtray.." as I motioned to my current smoke and the butt sitting balanced on end on the table. She responded quickly with, "How 'bout you hold on a minute!" and kept walking... Everyone around us heard that remark and began whispering to one another. Julie and I promptly got up and left. I haven't been back to an O'Charley's since... I let people go on... I watch, and I listen.

I read all over the place about people going to church when the door is open and how without the love of God they wouldn't be where they are now, but then read the same people talking about the free for all beach vacations they enjoyed while in an alcohol induced state of relaxation at the wet t-shirt bar late into the evening every night they're in town, then they send me constant invitations to join them next Sunday. I wasn't the least bit surprised when I read the pew report that stated agnostics and atheists know more about religion than Christians, Muslims, Jews and Hindus do...

In general, people are just shit. They think nothing of stopping in the middle of the road to speak on the phone, or of tailgating you when you're going ten miles an hour over the speed limit flipping you off the entire time, fishtailing their '73 impala to pull out in front of you then turn left in a tenth of a mile, or holding up the line in the store to get "two of the win for life, six of the dollar daze, four of the two dollar scratch offs, and oh yeah give me twenty in cash back..." Getting behind the guy at the drive through at the bank that decides now is the perfect time to do all of his quarterly book keeping is always a treat as well... We live in a society where people think it's ok to sit in front of you and call DCFS to report someone who's kids have on dirty clothes, but then an hour later will run their own children out of the room when the meth delivery gets there...

Sometimes it's entertaining to watch the hate that pours from people control them and their moods. But sometimes it's a bit wearisome... When someone asks me what the secret to staying married is, I let them go on for a while as they tell me all about their trouble with their spouse, how they can't help cheating on each other, or don't understand why they do what they do... When they have unburdened themselves I always ask them why they are telling me when they should be telling their spouse. Some people get pissed, some sit for a moment then get it. We have lost the art of conversation, we can't communicate unless there's a keyboard in front of us. Unfortunately, most people are going for approval and vindication rather than truth.

My father told me once that the best time to work something out in your mind is late at night when you're lying in bed and everyone else is asleep, because then there isn't anyone around to lie to. We have all been there, the moment when we must simply face the truth of ourselves, and most of us do not like what we see. God knows I didn't like what I saw several years ago and I made the decision to let it all go. I live with the ramifications of bad decisions I've made when I see people that snub me now that once spoke to me, but it's a small price to pay for peace of mind.

I know where I'm at, I know where it is that I'm headed to, and I know where I've been. I know what shape my soul is in, and I know the content of my character. I feel pretty good about it all. I put up with a lot less shit than I used to, I get tickled by people that think they are superior, and saddened by people that get genuinely hurt by others selfish acts...

The one redeeming factor has been the people of a gentle and genuine spirit that I have encountered along the way, they have greatly enriched my life, whether I let them know it or not...

All in all, it has been one long, strange trip indeed...

September 21, 2010

YARD SALE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This Friday and Saturday, September the 25th and 26th, there will be a yard sale extravaganza starting at 8:00 AM going until we are finished each day....

The yard sale will feature my carvings (click here to view), Julie's jewelry (click here) and regular yard sale fare...

Aside from our artwork the following items will be for sale... & everything must go!

Flower pots
White wicker furniture set
Infant car seat
Unfinished oak dining table and chairs
Video camera
Cast iron cookware
Commercial meat grinder
Six foot privacy fencing
Metal fencing and gates
Cast iron pickets
Folding attic stairs
Deer stands
Automatic transfer switches
Surge arresters
Hand tools
Table saw
Door closers
Entry lock sets
Miscellaneous tools
Shop supplies
Farm tractor
Disc harrow
Large dehydrator
Ridge vent
Fire extinguishers
150 gallon air tank
Metal shelving
Beer mug collection
Life magazine collection from the 40's
Electric motor
Paint sprayer
Paint ball gun

I am sure that many more items will appear before the sale actually happens... So come on out this Friday & Saturday and buy things, or just sit and talk a while...

If you have any questions about jewelry or wood carvings you can contact me at 678-423-6541.

If you have any questions about the other items listed here, or would like to come by before Friday or Saturday and check the stuff out, contact David at 770-301-7107

The yard sale will take place at:

425 Doc Perry Rd.
Newnan, Ga. 30263


September 20, 2010

I went outside and was drawn to the woods...

Everyone is asleep, I was working on some carvings and decided to step out onto the porch. The moon is pretty much full so there is quite a bit of light slipping through the trees, tossing everything into a world of black and white.

Leaves are beginning to turn and fall, ushering in the season of reflection. I began to aimlessly stroll across the yard, moving through the odd colorless world I beheld. Summer is still in full effect and the smell of green brought an eerie, surrealistic feel to the stark black and grays around me.

The night chorus of crickets and frogs mixed with the cooling temperatures and strange light to create a world full of expectation. The overpowering smell of ripe muscadines laying on the ground drew my mind to places I haven't seen since childhood.

I began to move toward the paths that lead from the edge of the yard to the secret world inhabited by creatures one seldom can see, yet sometimes hear. I walked slightly downhill to the path that directs you towards my father's shop. I stood, gazing at its shape through the trees. I imagined him sitting in front of its opened garage door in the light shining out as I have seen him do so many nights, bent over something he was painting as the sounds of music poured from the building. I sighed as I looked upon its forlorn shape, deadly still and quiet as if it misses his voice and creativity. The moonlight played off of its black windows seeming to scream in silence for his return. A place once so alive with life, color, and sound now stands in resolute solitude, a sad, lonely memorial to days that will never return. I thought about the last night I walked over here like this to find him in front of the door working on a dream catcher... As I walked up out of the woods he glanced my way and said, "Yeah, I can't sleep either... pull up that chair and sit a while.."

I lingered there with the sound of his voice playing in my mind for a few moments before I turned my back to the empty gravel lot in front of the door. The feel of his spirit was strong and I looked over my shoulder half expecting him to be sitting there. The wind began to blow through the trees as I walked down the path and continued on, marking places I know so well... Walking down this old dirt road late at night like this causes the sounds of childhood to be plainly heard. The voices of myself, my brother and my cousin rang up out of the deep ravine to my left as we dug a cave to become our hideout... I couldn't resist climbing up to the edge to look down into the darkness toward the spot where the cave collapsed on top of us as we dug... I smiled to hear the laughter that played off of our lips as we narrowly escaped death so we could sit in a hole in the wall down there... Countless vines are still there that were swung on, I shook my head thinking about how we cared nothing about the fall of thirty feet that we danced with regularly. I traced the pathway up the far side of the ravine, through the roots of the hardwood trees, strange how after thirty years I can still remember the exact foot and hand holds in those twisted roots...

I turned my back to the hallowed spot from childhood and continued down the road until I stood in the fork, to my right is the old garden spot, to the left, the road continues down to the lake. Looking behind me up the road I had just walked down I thought about a day long ago when I stood at the top of the hill and shot guns with my cousins. We had several boxes of old flash bulbs, and stacked them about where I was standing. We shot them from top to bottom, hardly ever missing our targets... I was so wrapped in the memory, I even kicked at the leaves on the ground, half expecting to find some broken glass and plastic...

I walked toward the lake. There is a creek to my right as I make my way down the road, as a child the lake wasn't there, the road crossed over the creek just ahead of me. I stood there looking at the road bed as it disappeared into the water. I followed its old path with my eyes and could still just make out the spot where the road used to continue up the hill. I thought about the countless hours I spent in that creek building dams, alone, working in silence. I looked out over the lake and stood for a while listening to the soft splashes made by creatures I will never see. I looked toward the other end and thought about hot days spent sitting on the dam fishing with my son, fielding unending questions about everything around us. Without a sound I turned toward the old garden spot with thoughts of bug spray, sunburn and fish dancing around in my mind.

Turning the corner and walking downhill in the garden I thought about me and my older son cutting the grass there with a push mower.... We spent the entire afternoon cutting down thigh high grass, all the while waiting for snakes to attack from unseen hiding places. I thought back to being a child and shooting at a hornets nest high in a tree there, I was sure I could knock it down and present it to my dad as a gift, several boxes of twenty two caliber bullets later, I gave up... As I turned to head up the path toward home I looked at the corner of the garden and thought back to the day my brother came down there with his tractor and we cleared all the underbrush away from the base of the huge pine tree that sits there, so my father could drive his kawasaki mule right up to it. We put a two person deer stand in the tree for him to hunt from. He sat in the mule watching us as we got everything ready for him... The moon played off the ground across the garden as the silence of the woods was broken by the unmistakable sound of deer moving behind me. I turned slowly to see them moving up the hollow, barely touching the ground, effortless in their strides through the trees, I could count three, but I'm sure there were more... I waited until they topped the hollow before I continued on...

Halfway up the hill I stopped in front of the old oak tree with the hollowed out trunk... James and I decided that a hobbit of advanced age lives there, and keeps watch over the garden for us when we aren't around... I smiled to myself while thinking about the look on his face as he searches for the hobbit when we ride by there at night on my dads kawasaki mule.

Topping the hill as the path ends in our back yard I look across the blacks and grays of the world I have been locked in for the past hour to the yellow light coming from the window that's just above the computer where I am now sitting... I knew then that within just a few minutes I would be here typing about this brief distraction in time. The silence of the house rings in my ears as I type, replacing the music of the woods filled with memories I just walked through. Sometimes I feel like a ghost haunting my own place...

September 06, 2010

Morning at Crickhollow

This morning it's cool and dry outside... a far cry from the near one hundred percent humidity with matching temperatures that we have been experiencing for what seems like decades now. I know it's only been a few months since everyone was complaining about ice, snow and frigid temperatures, and they soon will again, but lately I have felt like Summer wasn't going to loosen it's hold.

This year the heat has been coupled with what seems like a schedule straight from a battlefield. Non stop going and working has been a good thing to be sure, but the toll has been heavy. There are many good things going on here, projects, new milestones observed along the way, and happiness with tinges of exhaustion.

Labor Day weekend is a huge time of yard sales and craft shows, and we were faced with choices of where to go and how to set things in motion for multiple sales going on at the same time. With plans set and work begun the weekend approached with promises of an even busier schedule than usual. Everyone is either getting over a cold, fighting a lingering one, or just now starting to feel that scratchy throat and runny nose demon catching up to them. Sleep has been an elusive creature to overtake at times, late night work sessions and almost daily trips to the post office to ship packages filled with every manner of hand crafted items we have lingered over, squeezed in amongst errands and deliveries to local folks has created a sense of rebellion about the place.

We had touched base with a few of the craftsman that we were doing a sale/show with and everyone seemed to be in the same boat... Orders coming in have depleted inventories, work is going on to fill them all while extra hours are being put in to build stock in studios and back yards all over the state. During a mid week discussion with the chain saw carver we began to talk about taking a break for the holiday weekend... the idea took hold and spread like wild fire...

So tools were put away, shops locked, shipments packed and piled for Tuesday's post office run, lists updated and schedules altered... We all became civilians this weekend and did things people normally do. We actually went to sales as customers, went out to eat, window shopped, cooked out, watched movies... and went to bed at decent hours...

This morning I walked out into the crisp, cool air and stood in the breeze for a long while. I decided to stroll down to the old garden spot by the creek then walk up the driveway to listen to nothing but the sounds of the woods with wind moving through the trees.

Morning around here is always a joyous thing when everyone is at home, the aroma of brewing coffee mixes with the sounds of cartoons, palm sanders, barking dogs, and the Grateful Dead to create an image of home. Welcome sights of visitors walking down the driveway with kids in tow are met with peaceful smiles as the day lays out its plans for everyone.

This time of year ushers in a season of retrospect for most people, a time to take a moment and reflect on all that has passed in the last year. The year has been ripe with changes, good things and tragic moments have befallen people near to us. Dear people have departed while new ones have arrived with fresh faces and wonder showing in eyes experiencing everything for the first time. As I walked around the woods this morning I could detect hints of woodsmoke in the air, the smell brought a strange comfort to me, like coming home after a long journey.

Walking back down the driveway I was met with the sight of a six year old chasing panic ridden dogs with a nerf gun of his own design, adjusted just so to get maximum fire power, the sounds of music only a rebellious sixteen year old could enjoy, and the voice of his mother who doesn't understand why the child thinks she can hear her phone conversation over the wall of noise he has created...

Coming home is a good thing.