Bodacious Bathrobe Brunch

One of the many joys of living downtown in Savannah’s beautiful Landmark Historic District is the vibrancy of neighborhood.  The fun, fun, fun social connections of post-modern urban living.  Folks are flooding back into our country’s urban cores for an old, but new way of living.  The excitement of all that the inner city can offer plus neighbors who relate.

Robert and I live on Washington Square, the northeastern-most of Savannah’s 22 squares, a couple of blocks from the Savannah River and one of the busiest ports in America.  Georgia founder James Edward Oglethorpe laid out Savannah in a simple grid system, which makes for easy neighboring.  Our square, for example, every Friday evening beckons area residents (and anybody else who meanders though) to join us for “Fancy Friday,” which now-a-days isn’t fancy at all but brings together neighbors with their children, dogs, drinks and hors d’oeuvres to chit chat and relate before moving on to other evening activities.

And this past Sunday morning was our annual Washington Square Bathrobe Brunch.  The event, revived from years ago when a resident would sit on a bench in Washington Square and conduct business from his phone in his bathrobe, saw over 50 folks in robes and pj’s coming together for fun and food.

I hope you have Good Neighbors!

Monday Moment: There’s Always a Plan B

I actually love Monday (maybe in part–large part–because I am now retired).

And this Monday was special–ocean studies art day at my grandtwins’ school here in Savannah.

Madison’s rainbow tail fish

It was also the day grandtwin Madison lost her first tooth … at school.  The teacher put the tooth in a little necklace pouch.

See the necklace?  Well, lo and behold, at recess, Madison quickly lost the tooth on the playground.  Of course.

WHAT ABOUT THE TOOTH FAIRY?!  How will she know what to do?!

But there’s always a Plan B.

During game time at the ocean art day, the twins busily (and ultimately successfully) searched in the sand for sharks’ teeth.

Madison found one!  (Well, technically so did Matthew and every other kid.)  But Madison NEEDED that shark tooth.  It promptly went into the necklace pouch, to be safeguarded till the pillow episode tonight.

See?  There’s always a Plan B.  It’s just that sometimes you have to dig around a bit to find it.

And Happy Plan B-ing.

The Princess CAN!

Recently lollygagging through E. Shaver, Bookseller, one of my favorite bookstores on the planet (and just a few blocks from me here in historic district Savannah), I happened upon this little volume:

Yes!  Of course, she can.  And does.  She has throughout history, no matter what “official” HIS-story books and Disney say.

There’s a HER-story out there.  The princess is tough.

Mess with her at your own peril.

I’m the father of two such strong and beautiful princesses, Amy and Emily.

They have taught me over the years about abiding love, ongoing fun and resiliency.

Other powerful princesses in my life include former wife/current best friend Donna, who taught (and continues to teach) that true care and love continues and grows and gives throughout the decades.

Grandtwin Madison, who even at five has her own Madisony way of looking at the world and determining what is right for her.

So, make no mistake about it, the prince may be cute and wear fancy clothes, but the princess does not HAVE to have him.

The princess can save herself.

Who are the powerful princesses in your life?


“Quick Quote”: Another New Category

Hiya Blog Buds.  I’m introducing another new category of blog posts called “Quick Quote,” which basically means that I saw a quotation I liked, wrote it down on a napkin and now think everybody on the planet needs to hear it.  I don’t know about you, but I LOVE hearing truth from somebody wiser than me (i.e., most folks) (except the Kardashians).

The FIRST quote:

What do you love at every sight?

Many, many things for me.

Especially red hots.  (Do you know that little candy?)

Love for 25 cents?!  Seriously?

“The View from Behind”: New Category Introduction

I’d like to introduce “The View from Behind,” a new category for my blog.  For some strange reason (probably needing years of weekly, intensive, emotionally gut-wrenching therapy to understand completely), I have always liked to stand BEHIND things and have my picture taken.

One of the advantages of the view from behind is that of perspective.  For example, during my almost thirty plus years as a college English professor (I started when I was twelve), I was consistently up front–and basically in charge, even when I stood in the back of the room.  Voluntarily getting truly behind, however, often decreases “in charge-ness.”  From there in the back, one can embrace littleness, revel in it even.  Eons ago, my daughters Amy and Emily referred to the rear of our mini-van (yes, we had one) as the “way back.”

From behind, things can seem bigger and more focused to our eyes (or at least differently focused) while for the observer, we might fade or move out of focus a bit.

When I am behind, I sometimes forget about time.  Behind-ness invites its followers to realize that strict adherence to time’s demands can leave us little time to play.

When I am not up front, I feel I can breathe more deeply, can sort of hide a bit, can play hide-and-seek, can angle around.

I don’t know, maybe I’m just shy.  At any rate, I’m starting this new category, so join me soon as we look at The View from Behind.

Sunday Evening Glance: The Cross

Wooden cross at St. Mary, Georgia’s tiny and beautiful Catholic church.

The concept of sacrifice is present, of course, in all religions and morality systems.  Whether we adhere to a particular faith community or simply believe in doing good, isn’t true selfless joy dependent upon our willingness to sacrifice something?  Our time, our help, our money, our encouragement, our energy, our willingness to be wrong, our lives?

Living Cross outside my church, Asbury Memorial, this morning.

For me, the costly joy of the cross resonates most powerfully when I think about how many people sacrificed something in order to help me make it.  (See my previous post, “Never Enough.”)

I remember, for example, when as a senior in high school, I had a ridiculously preventable, awful accident and lost part of my right hand index finger.

This was way back in 19#(&$.  (Sorry, my computer glitched a bit there.)

I know, that’s not a pretty picture.

Today, the digit could probably be sewn back on in many cases, but not back in 19*%@.  But my dad asked my surgeon if there was any way he could donate his finger for me.  He could not, but by asking, he did.

The power of sacrifice, the power of the cross.

As a member of the Christian faith community, I am thankful for Jesus.

Happiest of Easter Evenings 2018, whatever your belief.