Tag: observations

travel

Out and About

2chicksandapen

I was recently out and about in a neighboring town. Wasn’t much of a planned itinerary but one that called for lunch at a local spot. Only Yelp reviews to help find the way. 

2Dog was the quaint little place my map was headed to. On a side road, not visible to those that pass the main drag daily. The outside decor had me curious and the inside didn’t disappoint either. From the cute salt and pepper shakers on each table to the decorations in every nook and cranny of the interior. Oh so many to share.

The cork wall. A creative flair I liked. Of course it also accented one of many cute salt and pepper shakers that I did photograph. Not sure what the other patrons thought of my actions but it was worth sharing thus I documented the experience with photos.

The bottle cap trim work in the background of some odd looking shakers. Another creative wall theme. As cute as the decor was, it was nestled in and old house thus requiring one to squeeze a lot into a small footprint while keeping the original charm.

Fireplace were repurposed. Old charm remained with accent pieces and some stone or pebble creation added for flair.

Food was good too. I mean that is why I went in the first place. This was a classic dish I often order for brunch. Shrimp and grits. In this case I opted for the sauce on the side as it had barbecue flavor whereas I would normally get a Cajun spin on the dish. Nonetheless I was unsure of the taste. A bit sweet for my liking but a good quality meal and the price was decent. 8.5 out of 10 on the food score.

A quick visit to the restroom and boom! This crazy naked lady is watching you. Talk about up front and personal. She might have been a bit odd and creepy for my liking but she was definitely going into the documenting pile. Of course the signage on the restroom doors were even cute: Dick and Jane. 

Another giggle as I passed the men’s room on the way out. Many more photos were taken but I will leave you with this. If you are ever in Gainesville, GA give this place a try. It’s only open for short times daily but it’s worth a try. If not in this area of the country, check out a small town restaurant you have never been to. I’m sure the experience will be worth it and it’s always great to support a small locally-owned business.

awareness

Community

2chicksandapen

Every once in a while, a word starts to stick in my mind. I go from just hearing it in regular conversation to actually noticing it, thinking about it, and reconsidering it. Lately, that word has been community.

The first time I noticed noticing it was at a recent drum corps competition. I was a band geek in high school. Band is its own kind of thing. I haven’t been in band in decades, none of my own kids went that route, so just walking up to the parking lot where the competition was taking place was an immediate immersion in a long ago land of shlepping equipment, warm up scales, and oddball friendships. I saw the families wearing their corps fan gear like they were repping a major league baseball team. Probably 5% of the general population (at most) has a connection to this activity. But once you are in, you are really in. And it is a community.

I think about other communities I belong to. CrossFit. Street Parking. My school. And those I don’t…things like hunting. Swifties. RV travel / ownership. Most other sports. Online gaming communities. The list goes on.

What makes a community? Communities have their own rituals. For band, there is the preshow warm up, chants and cheers. Communities have ways to connect. For some it might be a facebook group, or extend to meetups, events like an RV or boat show, or coming to games / events and tailgating. Communities have a lingo….for band it might be drill, front / pit, drum major, section, and so on. They have official or unofficial uniforms. You have swag or hats or things to wear (real or virtual). Communities have boundaries. For band, that might start with auditions. If you’re in you’re in, but if you’re not you know that too. Communities have calendars, or, more specifically, seasons. In-season, off-season, certain challenges happening, etc. Communities have times of activity and times of rest. Times of preparation and times of activation / celebration.

In many, maybe even most, cases, community is a “feel good” word. We often feel positively about identifying with a community`. We choose to be a part of it and buy in to what a community is about. At times, a community can even go so far as to be part of our identity. I’m not a band geek actively anymore, but when I go back to those events, I look around and can feel the community vibe. It takes me back to a time when that was such a big part of who I was and how I acted in the world.

Why all this talk about community? Seeing the word pop up over and over again made me think about the communities I belong to, and which I don’t. Going on an RV trip with a friend caused me to consider how that activity is its own type of community with people who enjoy it all over the world. There are seasons, rituals, gear, lingo, and events. But perhaps the real impetus for this was when the word community was used as a bludgeon in a dispute.

For all of the virtues and benefits of community membership, there are those who will weaponize community in order to exclude, to diminish, to demonize. Community becomes a way to make people feel less than, left out, pariahs. The borders become more about “who isn’t” than “who is.” This reminds me of cults, when people blindly follow leaders of “communities.” The spokespeople who deliver messages from the community as a way of pressuring conformity. I’m always wary when someone speaks on behalf of a community. While communities share a lot, they are never homogenous. They are full of individuals who (hopefully) still think for themselves.

For every community we are willingly a part of, there are also those we avoid. We may even live inside the physical (or mental) boundaries of a community, but resist being a member of something with values, attitudes, and practices we reject. I was raised Catholic, but can’t support many of the exclusionary principles at its core.

What communities do you belong to? Which are by choice? Which are by happenstance? How do communities enrich your life? And which have you / should you resist?

adventure

12 Murals

2chicksandapen

It was a random Saturday. I had taken my mom out on a whirlwind adventure to Nashville, TN. Rain was in the forecast, but there was still so much on our potential to do list. What could we cram into our short afternoon?

Off to the races we went. 12 South was the area to be highlighted. A section of murals. We would attempt to snap candid photos in each art setting. Our own little mural tour. My mom had no idea what this tour would include. The clock was against us. We had an hour before the rain would catch us. Off we went.

The first stop by our parking spot was a little pop up store made from a container. It had a beautiful floral wings display. Look how cute she looks.

Just a hop, skip and a jump to the side and we found this outdoor display on the back of a lemonade stand. This was interesting as it was more of a canvas vs. a wall painting. Vibrant colors picked up by the sun before the cloud cover approached.

We had a lot of water breaks along the way since it was a scorching hot day outside. We found it appropriate to snap this action shot of the water break with the hydration sign on a local bike shop. Such a fun time and as you can see this tour we did is wheelchair-friendly. Highlighting fun activities for seniors is so inspiring and why I opt to share the beauty.

Five Daughters donuts is definitely an area sweet shop to visit. If you do, there are a few cute murals to choose from at their store. This is just one to remember to sweet taste of donuts. We ate the donuts the day before as a coincidence. Lots of tastiness in that box along with a whole lot of calories. 

A monster encounter at the tail end of the bike shop made for a good photo opportunity. I must note this adorable great grandmother was on her first mural tour at the age of 84 and she had a blast. 

This stop we had the pleasure of sharing the sidewalk with some international tourists. There accents were adorable. And this sign says it all. Looking pretty!

This one shows our visit to nature. Strategically placed outside an outdoor recreation store. There were many more murals. Some we took pictures of, some we bypassed. 12 in an hour before the rain drops hit us. We got spooned. We saw Nashville looks good on you. We strolled to Reese Witherspoon’s place to catch the Draper James brand, which was one of my favorite backgrounds for the day.

This was an opt outside adventure starring my fabulous mom. She is a jewel that I chose to showcase in this mural display post. Until next time.

challenges

Holding Out for a Hero

2chicksandapen

Zooming down the highway, on time for being early, lights still gleaming out of the downtown buildings.

“This is the best time of the day to drive to the airport,” I think to myself. No traffic stopping things up. Smooth sailing. I’m gliding from a middle lane to the left, getting ready to take one of the final exits to the airport, when THUCK. I hit something in the middle of the lane. I just hold my breath and pray it’s nothing. Then I hear the “tik-tik-tik-tik-tik-tik” and know it’s bad news. The instrument panel lights up like a Christmas display. Flat tire. Thankfully, I was able to get over to the right shoulder. Hazards on. Now what….

It’s 5:50 am. I’m an hour from home on the side of a busy interstate. Who is up? Who will help? Made a call to 511, our metro HERO unit line. Spoke to a really nice dispatcher. Quick, seamless, shared my location, someone will be there to help me in 10 minutes or so. You may be thinking I should change my own tire. Even though I said there was no traffic, it’s more accurate to say that traffic wasn’t stopped. No, this is a major artery through downtown Atlanta, just before the exit toward the busiest airport in the world. Dozens of cars raced past me at 60-70-80 miles per hour every minute. I had about 8-10 feet of space between me and those fast cars. Needless to say, I stayed in my seat.

20 minutes passed. The sound of fast whooshing wind as SUVs, 18 wheelers, boat trailers, and motorcycles flew by went from annoying to unnerving pretty quickly. I found myself just praying that people were paying attention to the road. That they were sober. At some point I realized I had taken off my seatbelt. I quickly put it back on in case of impact. I called the HERO dispatcher back. Yes, help was still on the way but they have to help any incident that stopped traffic first. I would just have to wait.

By now the whooshing came too fast and too furious to stay calm about it. But really, what are my choices? I’m on the side of a 6-lane highway, with a median separating it from another 3-lane exit. I literally have no choice but to wait. Being in a car at least gives me a little protection.

I flash back to another time this happened, years ago. In the middle of the night. With my daughters. Waiting in the dark for help in an area we didn’t want to be in. Every light that comes toward you is a threat. How fast are they going? Are they sleepy? Do they see me? The car wobbles ever so slightly with each vehicle that zooms by. It’s been years since that time, but my body remembers.

Back to the present…by this point I am looking at my grim flight options to try to distract from the terror of that unrelenting sound. Sold out – Sold out – Sold out – my only options are to pay either $400 or $1,200 dollars to fly out late tonight, which would put me at my destination after one of the main events I am going for. So, as I waited, I canceled. The hotel. The car. The flight. The first family reunion I have missed since 1991. A story for another day.

Finally, the flashing lights roll up behind me. A few minutes pass before a portly man gets out, helmet on and gear attached. He’s done this job for 9 years. I pass him my wheel lock and watch him work…it only takes a few minutes before my spare is on the car and I am on my way. Jason, the driver in his bright green truck, really was my HERO on this day.

On my way to the tire store, I focused on feelings of gratitude. I am safe. I am ok. Nothing is unfixable. It could have been much worse. Someone showed up to help me. Do I wish I was on a plane for a weekend of fun and beach pizza and crumb cake and cousins and memories? Sure. Maybe the universe was protecting me from something. I will never know. All I do know is life happens sometimes and the best you can do is just try to stay positive and keep moving as best you can. And be thankful for the heroes who show up for you.

adventure, fitness and nutrition

Fitness Freedom

2chicksandapen

The CrossFit Ranch. The Original Proving Grounds. Home of the first CrossFit Games. Owned by Dave Castro. Even though I do a lot of my fitness outside of my CrossFit gym, I am a huge Dave Castro fan. I love his CrossFit announcements. His esoteric clues. His persona.

When the opportunity came to visit The Ranch for an event, I was all in. I missed it last year due to a scheduling conflict, but this year I was going to make it work.

It was a celebration of sorts, leaving school directly after the last day of my 10th year as a teacher. A long flight across the country. Renting a car and making the drive. To save on what was already a splurge of a trip, I bunked in with a group of women I had never met or even interacted with much. But, we are all part of the same online fitness community. They turned out to be pretty low key and kind. A group no one would have ever brought together but we were all in it for the adventure.

A 30 minute drive to the Ranch in the morning and we were into our weekend of fitness fun. Signed in, got our swag bag, and dove right in to the first event.

Called “Climb Every Mountain,” it started with a 1 mile run. After that, you did a mile ruck / sandbag carry up the infamous CrossFit Ranch hill. I was the slowest of my heat on the run, but I was smiling and taking in the sights, meeting the people I’d only seen on the screen at the turn around points. Once I got back, I had to choose my weight. I could choose 20, 40, or 60 pounds (or more) to carry…or go with no weight. My home sandbags are 25 and 35 pounds, so I decided to challenge myself with 40. I had done a lot of weighted walking in May, so I felt pretty good about it as I started. It didn’t take me long to realize that the 40 pounds combined with a seriously steep hill was going to be a heck of a challenge. I quickly got to the point where I had to just tell myself to walk 50 paces then drop. Walk 50 paces then drop. I thought the hill would never end. But, I was determined to make it to the top, and make it to the top I did. No time cap on this event so as long as I kept going I knew I would finish. True to fitness fun form, a special surprise guest waited at the top of the hill behind a tree. Yes, I screamed when he jumped out, but then I laughed and had a quick photo opp.

The trip down to the bottom was treacherous with the sandbag, but little by little I made it to the finish line. The smile when I saw my team captain cheering for me at the finish line said it all.

The rest of the weekend was all about fitness and connection. I met scores of wonderful people, all at different points in their fitness and life journeys, all challenging themselves to work hard and be joyful. I picked up heavy strongman and husafell bags. I pushed enormous sleds with a team. I muscled through a long chipper. We ate, danced, and fitnessed together.

The weekend ended with a final climb of the hill. Everyone in attendance climbed together. We carried notes where we had written some things we were going to leave behind on that relentless hill. I wanted to leave behind my fears. My worries about what anyone else thinks. My concerns about failure. We got our hug and challenge coin for the climb, then burned those fears in a fire pit. It was a satisfying end to a weekend of fitness.

What was the best part? Was it meeting so many of the community’s “celebrities” (or really they’re sort of everyday heroes to me)? Meeting them in person, I see that they are sincere in what they believe. They are dedicated to family, fitness, and the belief that we can all be well. They live out their mission. Or maybe it was making new friends, enjoying meals together, morning meditative walks on the beach…really there are too many good memories to list here.

Here’s my takeaway: in the end, no one but you has to understand or approve of what you’re doing. Did people tell me I was crazy? Sure. Did someone close to me chuckle as they asked if I was traveling all the way across the country to exercise? Absolutely. Did those doubters make me do a double take? Maybe for a second. But whose approval ultimately matters? Me. I am SO glad I did it. And I would totally do it again.

So when people look at you like you’re crazy, carry on. In the end, the collection of experiences and memories you have is up to you. No one else can climb the mountain set before you. If something is calling you, answer.