I had a rather impromptu visit to south Georgia last weekend to visit my family. I was originally going to go the weekend prior, because it was my mom’s birthday, but I managed to jam that weekend up with freelance work.
This was the first time I’ve driven down there on a normal weekend. I usually don’t make the 3 hour drive unless it’s a long weekend, because I actually get two full days down there. I only got one full day, but I made it a good one. It was the highlight tour of my hometown, really. Anything more than 3 days and I run out of stuff to do, short visits are great because they quench my thirst for the serenity of the country, but don’t remind me too much of how mind-numbingly dull it was to live there.
I was on a bit of a scavenger hunt through my late-grandmother’s sewing supplies, which is one of the main reasons I wanted to go down. There was some stuff that I inherited and stuff that I left down there when I moved off to college that I wanted to reclaim. Digging through my grandmother’s belongings, I ran across the first “real” painting I ever did on canvas:
For those of you not privy to my artistic genius, it is a cat wearing a hat with a flower stuck in it holding what I believe to be a book.
I remember begging my grandmother to buy me a canvas to paint on. After a few days, she relented and bought me a watercolor set and one piece of canvas board, which she then cut in half. This was the result!
It was framed and hung in the dining room of our old house, right next to the sliding glass doors to the patio, until we moved when I was 13.
She kept this and my first real drawing (ca. age 3), which was of my mother. I really need to find that and post it as well. It’s amazing for a 3 year old having done it.
It’s nice to know that, although she tried to bully me out of going into an art field later in life, she at one point encouraged my artistic ability and believed in me.
I spent most of the afternoon in my uncle’s parents’ pool with my mom and little cousin. I much prefer swimming down there to my pool at my building. It’s much more laid back, the pool isn’t lined with overly tanned gay men in speedos and judgemental anorexic bitches, and it’s much, much deeper than the sad 5ft my building’s pool is.
It was thundering, but sunny when we got in. And all of a sudden there was a sun shower, it was pretty amazing. We all started laughing and enjoying the rain like children. I really wish that I could relive that, it was a lovely moment. Towards the end of our swim, my aunt and littlest cousin joined us for a bit, before heading back to play some wii.
I left my cousins playing wii and headed to the town I went to highschool in to meet up with a friend. We had the “greatest hits collection” tour of the city. We had dinner at el Potro (the mexican restaurant in town), and omg for a tiny town in south Georgia, the food is amazing. I am so in love with their salsa.
We actually caught the sno cone shack open as well! SnoBiz hadn’t opened at all last year, so I was surprised to find it open this year. I got a MaiTai with cream and my friend got an Island Breeze, which turned her tongue first green, and later blue. It brought back so many memories of being a kid and stopping by SnoBiz on the way back from the public pool, still in my bathing suit and dripping wet, with the smell of cut grass and ot asphalt in the air.
After sno cones, there was nothing left to do but go to Walmart. We lapped Walmart twice, didn’t see anyone we knew (which is rare, but thank god), and decided to leave. It’s always curious to me how small towns get this “Walmart culture” where everyone goes to it for entertainment. There are always kids in there playing and people in there to purely socialize. I’m so glad that my Saturday nights don’t revolve around who I bump into at Walmart anymore.
Having exhausted all of our other options, I drug her to the park I always go to and we swang in the dark. Swings are a very pivotal object in my life, and I am drawn to them. After dropping her back off at home and chatting a bit, I headed home.
There, my cousins decided to stay over until 2am (they’re 13 and 4, and don’t look at me like that, I’m not their mom) playing Super Mario Bros. Do you have any idea how funny it is to watch a modern child try to play an old 8-bit game? It is epic fail! The youngest one isn’t so bad at it, but the older one is terrible, which is great because he’s so cocky about being awesome at video games. Being the loving cousin that I am, I mock him mercilessly.
Sunday was much the same as Saturday, with Mario and pool, but bookended with my packing smart car to the brim and driving back to Atlanta. I got back and immediately had to do a load of dishes, ugh. Welcome back to you, too, loft.crossposted from fuzzdecay.com.