Look out, armadillos

I spent the last few days in a place called Dadeville that has two very important things in common with hell: there is no internet connection and there is no real coffee.

On the other hand, there are fried things. I ate a whole meal composed of fried okra, fried shrimp, fried crawfish, fried alligator, and sweet tea. In retrospect, I should have had the tea fried. Oh, and there are armadillos, which are pretty cute. But that's about all I can say for Dadeville.

I went with my parents because my grandfather was holding a golf tournament for his 85th birthday. The tournament only consisted of men from my extended family, but it was pretty hotly contested, from what I hear. The weekend was both good and bad. I hardly ever see members of my mother's family, so it was nice to see my cousins. I'm about to live near three of them for the first time, so it was good to reconnect with them.

On the other hand, there was my grandfather.

My mother's father has never particularly liked my siblings and I. Not only did none of us play football, we all inexplicably failed to go to Auburn. And then we didn't become conservative Republicans. And we aren't good Christians. So! Basically he has nothing to say to us. I mean, it's not like he's mean, he's just completely baffled by the lot of us and has never bothered to take an interest in anything we might be doing.

Lately he's taken on two hobbies that I found extra disturbing. The first one is making loud disparaging remarks about anyone who happens to be nearby (neighbors, servers, cash register attendants, family members, etc) and the other is killing small animals. He shoots any squirrels that try to eat from his birdfeeder and any armadillos that come into his yard. Actually, he doesn't get the armadillos much, because they come out and night and he doesn't like to stay up anymore. But his most recent wife (from whom he is separated) likes to shoot them from her deck, and he tried to get my dad to run over one that we saw on the road.

But none of this compared to the bizarre speech he made on the occassion of his birthday dinner. It was sort of a telling of his life story, but with interesting additions and omissions. Most of the speech focused on how much he loves football, his oldest son, and his deceased first wife. He spent a lot of time on how talented his oldest son is, made some half-assed remarks about his other son being technically proficient, and left out my mother entirely. Seriously. Never mentioned her. He also failed to mention his second wife but did include an imaginary relationship with a Broadway star. It was seriously weird. It made me wonder if some day I'll tell a heavily revised version of my own life story that includes embarassing details about other people.

So that was upsetting.

But I suppose there were some good parts of the weekend. I've always been afraid of babies, but my cousin Abby has two that seem pretty cool. I even took one of them in the pool, and not only did he not break, but he seemed downright tough. He's at a phase in his life where he enjoys hitting, throwing, and splashing - or is that a phase? Maybe he's just a boy and that's a life-long thing.

In other news:

Before I left, I spend a delightful evening with someone else's husband. Thanks for the loan, Val. (Why oh why isn't there another Kelly brother for me?)

Right now my parents are keeping the neighbors' dogs, which means we have a whole house full of terriers. I love it. Lots of chaos and barking and snuggling.

I made the mistake of looking at expensive handbags, and now I'm getting a little lustfull for a Coach Addison briefcase.

I'm approaching finishing my brother's wedding present.

Almost time to move!

In which Dorothy and Toto abscond to an island

I had a pretty big week.



I went on my first solo road trip.

I went on my first solo vacation.

I found and signed a lease on an apartment.

I mastered docking the boat all by myself.



Toto had a big week, too. He learned about riding on boats, jumping through marsh, rolling in the sand, how not to eat crabs that are still alive and pinching you, and that waves are dangerous. Here's a video of his new hobby:




So here's the long version of what I did all week: I drove to Atlanta Friday morning, looked at the apartments Friday afternoon, and signed a lease. I love my new apartment. It's in a brick building from the 1920's, and it's a tiny tiny hole. Seriously. I stayed with Katie and Nick, who were very sweet about showing me around. We went to little 5 Points and on a mini driving tour of downtown Atlanta. Plus our dogs got along really well. I'm looking forward to living right next to them.

On Saturday I drove to Charleston (specifically, to my uncle's island house which can only be reached by boat), and spent the 4th of July on an island, just like in the Band of Horses song. I climbed up on the roof of the gazebo with Phineas and I could see three different fireworks displays - it was amazing. And also kind of sensory-overload, because I could never decide where to look.

I spent several days by myself on the island, which I think is the farthest away I've ever been from other humans for an extended period of time. I really liked it. I did some fishing and some crabbing and some pointless cruising around in the boat. And then I got sick and spent some time sleeping and puking and sleeping and puking. But still! A nice place for it.

Then I drove home, stopping in Knoxville over night. I had a nice dinner with Mike, drinks with Kaitlin and company, and even got to stop by the Grotto. I really missed getting petted on by my pet barback. And any night spent laughing with Jamie and Palm is a good one.

I'm back home now, and I think I've finally washed all the sand off me. Time to get back to normal life.