The front yard

We were watching a movie the other night that included a scene of a cremation. James is seven and turned to me asking what they were doing. I explained to him that sometimes people choose to not to be buried when they die, but burned, usually to have their ashes spread at a place that they love to spend time at, or that has become special to them over the course of their lives.

That one sparked a conversation….

He asked me what I wanted to happen when I die, so I told him that I wanted to be cremated and have my ashes tossed off the pier on Tybee island outside of Savannah… He asked me why and I told him that to me it’s always been a place of extreme peace, I love to sit there and watch the sunrise over the ocean. But… that more than likely nobody would find the time to do it and I would end up in the bottom of the closet in my bedroom with all of the shoes that get lost.

He assured me that he would see to it that I ended up where I wanted to be, so I asked what he thought he might want to have happen when he dies. He thought about it for a while then told me that he would want his ashes spread over the front yard. I asked him why and he said, “I love it out there. Nobody bothers me. I can build a fort anywhere I want to and set things up just like they should be….”

Then he surprised me by continuing with this..

“I miss grand daddy. He always told me about how things were around here when he was little and I like to play like he is little again and out there with me helping me build things. He knew about all the guns I have and told me how each one works, I miss that too.. Do you miss him sometimes?”

I told him that I did. He then wanted to go riding around on the Kawasaki mule and have me tell him about what things were like when I was little, that’s one of his favorite things to do. So we went out about nine o’clock that night, loaded up the mule with all manner of toy guns and headed out at walking speed… We circled the yard, then went off into the woods, I told him about everything we saw. I pointed out all of the coolest trees, showed him where I played as a kid, told him about the cookouts we had and the games we played, told him about the trampoline we had that was like the one he has. We then went up the road and I pointed out where houses used to be and who used to live where and who they were. He sat quietly and listened to everything I said, prompting me from time to time to go somewhere and tell him about something I had talked about before.. We had a long ride that night.

The dogs were running along side the mule with us as we drove about, it was quite the parade we had going on, but he seemed to be deep in thought, where normally he would be shooting all the monsters that were following us, he was silent. When we turned onto the driveway he didn’t say anything, usually he starts chanting, “Go fast. Go fast. Go fast.” but that night he said nothing.. Once we had parked, he stood up on the seat and looked around for a bit then turned to me and said, “Yeah… I think I want my ashes spread right here in this yard., it’s about the best place in the world…”

Coner

“He comes to easin’ round the coner…” That was always one of my great aunt’s lines that I loved to hear when she was telling a story from her childhood. I remember asking my father what a “coner” was… He looked at me like I was stupid and said, “Corner, boy… corner..”

That was the way of it. I loved to listen to people tell stories. I sat at the feet of many older relatives and listened to them spin yarns of the days when they were kids. I was thinking about this earlier and wondered why things like that don’t happen anymore. Where are the times of listening to older relatives? Hell, for that matter where are the times of sitting and talking for hours on end?

When was the last time you went to a genuine cookout? By cookout I mean one of those affairs that lasts all night, when kids run themselves into the ground playing games like hide and seek while the adults sit around and talk or play cards until the wee hours of the morning. You know what I mean… a table laden with food in the background that gets picked over for hours, free flowing coffee and sweet tea, and laughter, sweet, simple laughter. The sound of which is carried on the wind and you feel it’s still roaming around out there somewhere. A day when you drank from the garden hose and were burnt by the sun, but nobody cared or got upset because the spf 50 wasn’t applied in earnest the moment you got out of the car…

Do you remember when no one cared what anybody wore, or drove, or acted like? Everyone seems to be regulated now. Regulated by television or the internet. How many people do you know that have built a house in the last decade that absolutely had to have stainless steel appliances, or the right sort of tile in the kitchen? What about the huge flat screen television with the Nintendo wii so the parents could tell themselves that their children were playing video games that forced them to be active so they wouldn’t be couch potatoes? Stop and think for a moment about the reaction your grandmother would have if you told her that you pay over three dollars for a cup of coffee?

Where did it all go? What happened to it? Why do people not feel satisfied any more? That made me think of a pbs television program I watched a few years back named “frontier house”. the premise was to have a handful of families live in cabins as if it were the turn of the century and the competition was to see who could appropriately get ready for the oncoming winter, they were judged by historians who oversaw the amount of food and firewood they gathered during the Summer months. I was struck by an affluent family of four that were miserable during the entire contest. They complained nonstop about the living conditions and absence of modern day conveniences, as they were all crammed into a one room cabin. A mother, father and two teen daughters who had just built their dream home, a standard mcmansion. They spoke continuously about how they couldn’t wait for this to be over so they could get back to their new home, it was finished just as the program started and they hadn’t spent any time in it at all.

The mother cheated by smuggling in makeup and having her husband clandestinely move an old box spring from a junk pile into the cabin for more comfortable sleeping. The daughters were complaining nonstop about missing their cell phones and televisions. The father took it all in stride, yet he too defended their cheating, “If people back then had found a good box spring to put a mattress on they would’ve brought it home too!” The judges didn’t see things their way and scolded them pretty harshly for their actions. Yet when the competition was over and they made their way home to the new digs… they were miserable. I remember the interviews with them that took place a few months after filming had been completed. They were all in their own parts of the new home, the mother at the pool, one daughter at the grand piano, the other locked in her room on the laptop, the father in his man cave… They were sad. They missed each other. Living in the one room cabin had brought them closer as a family. The daily chores had taught them to work together to get things done, they had to rely on themselves because that’s all they had. In other words.. They were lonely. They had the world at their finger tips via technology, everyone had the latest greatest car to run around in, yet they simply missed being together… and did not know it. They couldn’t pin point why they were all so melancholy. One of the show’s advisors pointed it out to them and that evening they did something they hadn’t done since the filming came to an end. They sat down for dinner together and talked while they ate. They talked and laughed and before they knew it a couple of hours had passed.. That night they all slept in the living room of the new house and breakfast the next morning was ringing with talk and laughter as they made their plans for the Saturday they would spend together..

There is a label for everything now, every person falls into a category and is immediately judged by others and stereotyped to the point of shutting down all relative and real communication. We have become so cynical towards everything that we fail to see the truth of our lives. We have indeed fallen victim to life according to mass media…

Is there anyway way out of this?

A glimpse: Christy's Cafe

A few years ago I started a series of posts here entitled "glimpse", the reason for these posts were to give you guys a glimpse into the things that I see in everyday life. A glimpse of places that I like to go and things I like to do.

Recently, I felt a need to revisit the topic...

A few months ago I logged onto facebook and saw a post on my home page feed. The post said something about the daily special being beef tips and rice with gravy, collard greens, and black eyed peas... of course I took notice. I clicked on the link and was taken to a page for Christy's Cafe in Newnan. I can't remember when or how I became a fan of the page, but there it was... Real food.

Each day had a different special listed, as I read down the list I thought to myself, "why haven't I heard of this place?" I began to investigate, it sits at 30 Perry Street, I knew exactly where it was... The place had been a used bookstore at one point and another restaurant that my wife and I had visited. A few days later my mother wanted me to give her a ride to town for a few things that she needed, while in town she mentioned getting something to eat, so I mentioned Christy's..

We walked in to a chorus of, "Hey Y'all!" We were told to just sit anywhere and grabbed a table. They brought us menus and took the drink order right away and returned a few moments later with a glass of sweet tea that was comparable to the tea my mother makes.. and that's saying something... The daily special was a burger and fries with a drink included, so I ordered that, instead of fries I opted for tater tots... The burger was amazing, cooked just right, the tater tots were also cooked to perfection... My first reaction was to the freshness of the food, the flavors were perfect. The "fixins" for the burger, lettuce, tomato, etc.. were so fresh I ate them by themselves... I left the place sated and excited for having found somewhere that served good food..

I told my wife about it and suggested that we visit for breakfast that Saturday. They are only open seven to two during the week, so going with her would have to wait for the weekend. I had looked over the menu and was excited about trying the breakfast. Saturday rolled around and and we headed out with James in tow... Once there I ordered the "chicken skillet" when they brought the food I sat and stared at the plate before me for a couple of minutes... It was a huge pile of grilled chicken, hash browns, onions, peppers, and mushrooms topped with two scrambled eggs and a huge biscuit on the side... holy shit...

I sat and ate slowly.. the meal was perfect... Let me tell you about the biscuit... Do you remember the way the biscuits that your mother and grandmother made tasted? That buttermilk flavor? That's the way this biscuit tasted... except, they cut it in half, buttered it then grilled it.. the taste is amazing. I hadn't experienced that flavor since I was a kid... Yes.. I was damn near in tears...

I posted a picture of the chicken skillet on facebook, yes, I'm one of those annoying food posters... I was immediately inundated with texts and emails asking where this place was at. That has now become a sport for me. I post pictures or status updates that I'm there and I am always asked repeatedly where it is, what they have, etc...

They told us that they had just celebrated one year in business and were about to start having catfish and barbecue on Friday nights from five until nine. We looked forward to that all week and when Friday evening rolled around, there we were. James loves catfish, I love barbecue.. so he and my wife ordered the two fillet plates of fish with fries, and I ordered the full rack of ribs... an hour and a half later, after calling a few people to meet us there we finally left, barely able to move... We had to walk around the Court Square in Newnan a few times just to get the feeling back in our legs...

Since that fateful week I have worked my way around their menu, a few times... I have never had anything that I didn't like. The slaw is astounding, the tuna salad is unbelievable, the burgers are unbeatable, the fish is incredible, the hush-puppies are perfect, the brisket is always exactly right, and Christy makes all the desserts herself.. the banana split pie will make you cry its so good......

If you are tired of chain restaurants with poor service, televisions all over the place, stale menus, and tired gimmicks, go over to Christy's Cafe on Perry St. (its between the tag office and the post office) and give them a try. Christy, Rick, and Trina will treat you to something you haven't had in a long time... a pleasant experience at a place where you are welcome, where quality is upheld, and you actually feel like you just went over to your moms house to eat lunch on a lazy Sunday afternoon... I suggest going on Friday night first to get the experience of the "Friday night catfish and barbecue special" I'm sure I'll see you there.. Hats off guys on a job well done, keep it going! and for the love of god... put deep fried corn on the cob on the menu!

The Wizard Staff

I received an email from a customer asking about a wizard staff. We went over the details and I began the search. He wanted a staff six feet in length with a face on one side a name carved on the other. I went through the supply of wood I have on hand and discovered that I had nothing in stock that was quite long enough, so I began my search.

It was slated to be one of the hottest days of the year thus far, so I started early. I gassed up the kawasaki mule and headed out into the woods. I made my way toward a pond where I knew there was a good stand of trees that would fit the order. Once parked, I began walking in the direction of the suitable trees. When you're searching for trees in the woods you have to keep a sharp lookout for things that will kill you... I spotted a possible candidate and searched the area for snakes, I found a snake hole, and kept an eye on it as I worked. I took the tree back to the kawasaki and began cutting it into lengths, I got enough from it for the staff and a walking stick, along with enough limbs to begin making wands for an upcoming project I have in August.

I made my way back to the porch where I began the debarking process. Once the piece was ready, I treated it to keep it from splitting and set it aside... I then began work on a few other projects until it was ready to for carving...

During the carving portion of the job, I sent a few photos to the customer via cell phone and received a message back from him that everything looked good and "By the way.. can you get me another one?" So the next day I set off into the woods to retrieve another tree, providing more walking stick and wand material along with it...

Once the carving was completed, I finished the two pieces and set them aside to dry, then I went about mailing them off to the customer. Building a proper box to send two six foot wizard staffs safely across the country is no mean feat.. not to mention the adverse reaction walking into the post office with a huge package of that nature has on the employees that have to process it... I walked in with my assistant, me with the wizard staff box and two others, he with his arms full of several others boxes.. trust me you get lots of stink eyes from everybody around when you walk in loaded like that...

Once everything was received I began getting the report emails in. The wizard staffs went over great, I hope that the new owners get a chance to see this post so they can get a feel for where they came from. Several hours were spent deep in the woods of north Georgia picking through trees to find the right ones.. But in truth, that is my favorite part of doing this, spending those hours out in the woods searching. You know you're in the right place once you're pretty much lost but don't really care. Like any creative process, you get so involved in what you are doing, nothing else seems to matter, it is indeed the perfect therapy...

The first staff cut and loaded on the kawasaki

Headed into the woods to begin the search

various bits for a walking stick and wands...

I keep this horseshoe in the kawasaki for good luck, I found it an at old plantation site out in the woods...

A hidden snake hole near the tree I was working on

Deep in the woods, very peaceful and quiet in there...

On my way back in

Preparing to cut the wood into proper lengths

Never head into the woods to search for pieces without these two items...

debarking...

I saved these two pieces of bark to see how they carved after the staff was finished..

You get interesting formations once the bark comes off

The completed piece, ready to carve

If you can get the bark off without cutting, the pattern left makes the finished piece look even better

The first steps in the carving process...

Located the second tree!

The finished second staff on shipping day

The finished first staff

The cell phone photo I sent the customer, I'm glad they were well received...

The hiking stick from the secret spot

Back down in the woods there is a pond that's quiet and peaceful... We use it from time to time as an escape from the noise and mess of every day life and useless people.

To drive the kawasaki mule down there after midnight, park on the dam and look for ufos is a favorite pastime. We fish there and do some serious thinking as well... The pond sits at the bottom of a favored hollow where I played as a child. The creek I used to dam up from time to time feeds the pond. The dirt road we rode our bikes on ran across the creek and continued on to the old chimney where a plantation once sat.

This past week was spring break and James spent many hours down there with his uncle Jimmy catching all manner of fish, each day brought new smiles and tales of the many that got away.

The dogwoods are blooming, pollen is in full force and colors are exploding at every step out in the woods. Spring is here.

I took the kawsaki mule down to the pond and looked back up the hill toward an old fort we had as kids and started walking through the woods. I picked my way through the poplars, oaks, and dogwoods until I happened across a good sweet gum tree... I cut part of it off, took it back to the mule and cut all of the limbs off. I then cut several pieces to carve. The first was for this fifty five inch hiking stick. I then took a few pieces for what I call "limb carvings" where I leave a bit of the limbs on... about six pieces in total.

I picked the tree because of it's size and the view it had of the pond where we have spent so much time. The tree has watched over us as we have talked, fished and napped in the sunlight. It held vigil over us and made sure we were safe as we scanned the night skies for those elusive ufos, it listened as James asked questions and I fumbled through the answers to sate his never ending curiosity, it sat silent in its wisdom as I have been by the water's edge contemplating the many twists and turns of life... and now, it rests in our home, keeping watch over us at all times..