Ain't Nothing Gonna Break-a My Stride

The day was young when I headed to my garden this morning, and although the heat and humidity to come was perceptible, it was all good as I rolled down all the windows and opened the sunroof. Just down the road a huge garbage truck was struggling to back out of a tiny parking lot. No matter-- I was happy to wait on such a glorious morning! Several cars impatiently idled at the intersection ahead, their drivers clearly dressed for work, and even though I had the right of way, I was more than willing to wave them ahead of me. But when at last the truck slid into traffic just ahead of me? The stench was overwhelming! So I pinched my nose, changed lanes, and zoomed up the hill where my garden awaited, empty of everyone but goldfinches and me beneath the blue, blue sky.

Tell Me About it

I've written before about my appreciation for a tour. Emily Dickinson's House, Mt. Vernon, Alaska, good or bad? Perhaps it's the teacher in me who is fascinated by people sharing information with others, but either way I've never met a tour I didn't like.

Today was no exception. The afternoon was Washington-in-August scorching when Andy led us out from the cool and peaceful interior of the National Cathedral to guide us on an examination of the damage that the earthquake of 2011 did to the largest masonry structure on the continent.

And it caught me off guard when he choked up in the very first segment, recounting where he was on that fateful day six years ago and how he came to realize what a profound effect that seismic hiccup had on what was clearly his very beloved cathedral. From there it was a breezy combination of too much technical information and his belief that a divine hand was present in the event.

In the end, I think it was his earnestness that won me over, that and the fact that he reactivated buried memories of art history classes I took 35 years ago. Oh, and I also love the Cathedral, and it was

a tour.

Here it Comes

Because our school's main parking lot is closed for the next two years, I parked in the tiny far lot and schlepped all my stuff up to the back door when I went in to work on curriculum today.

Guess I better get used to it.

(But only if I can find a space in the mornings!)

Give it a Week

Being away from home is fun, but coming back is fun, too, especially at this time of year. In addition to hugging our cat, going through the mail and packages, and sleeping in my own bed, this morning I headed straight for the garden to check on my vegetables and flowers.

I was not disappointed!

City of Looms

It's kind of a thrill when you're on a road trip and your phone GPS flashes those three magic words: faster route available. Despite no evidence of congestion, I eagerly exited I-85 when that happened just north of Charlotte this afternoon. As we cruised up the ramp, I spotted a backup on the road ahead that stretched as far as my eye could see, and so it was with glee and the knowledge that I was saving time that I navigated the local byroads. And secure in that knowledge, it didn't bother me a bit to stop at this light or that intersection.

"Kannapolis?" Heidi read the town welcome sign at one such stop. "Where did they get that name?"

"Hey, Siri!" I called, and soon we were treated to a Wikipedia article about the history of that little burg. It seems that over a hundred years ago, it was a company town built around a textile mill owned by the Cannon family. From there it gets a little fuzzy as to whether it was named after the mill (Cann-apolis) and changed, or whether it was named for the Greek kanna (reeds or looms) and apolis (city).

Personally, I favor the second on poetic principle, but either way it's a great story, and a little while later we were back on the highway with time to spare.

Search Term Success

There was a little bit of a hubbub across the way in WH Stiles Fish Camp as I waited in line to order lunch at Ponce City Market this afternoon. Lights, cameras, and reflectors surrounded a shiny-headed gent seated at the u-shaped oyster bar.

"Who is he?" the people around me asked as they craned their necks to watch the action without losing their place in the slooooooow moving line. He looked vaguely familiar to me, too, but I couldn't place him, so as other diners dodged onto the makeshift set to snap a selfie I used my phone to Google  bald food channel guy. The first hit was Andrew Zimmern of Bizarre Foods fame, and that's exactly who it was.

Around that time? It as my turn to order, so I never did find out what strange dish brought him there today, but our Vietnamese salad with crispy fish and steelhead trout poke was 😋 delicious!

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

There's no other word but 'bustling' to describe the scene at the mall near my sister's place in Atlanta today. Shoppers were nearly at holiday numbers, so many that entering and exiting the flow of foot traffic required some serious merging maneuvers. And why not? It is a holiday of sorts for the parents, if not the kids, down here.

School starts on Tuesday.