Finally Here
Early this morning I heard a noise that sounded like a thump on the porch. I opened the front door to investigate and was blasted with a chill raw air. The air smells very different here, it's much more potent (quite possibly from the strong aroma of manure) but it's also very crisp and as I adjust to the 'farm' smell mixed in it's actually kind of refreshing. Anyway, nothing seemed to be amiss on the porch and as I began closing the door again I heard a strange sound off in the distance, I was suddenly hit with an instant memory of a Warner Brothers cartoon and I actually giggled out loud when I realized that yes...I was in fact hearing a rooster give its morning call.
As you may have guessed, I'm here and an official resident of Georgia now, although I must add that actually moving here wasn't without its hellacious moments. Two of my brothers best friends were out of town and unable to help with the move, a couple others bailed on him but luckily a few of his loyal girlfriends showed up to help. Even though they have an odd obsession with the smell of his hair they seemed ok and were a huge help. Moving sucks! That's the long and short of it, it's just a treacherous and brutal task. However, as someone who has moved FREQUENTLY during my life I have to say this - moving yourself in a rented truck that requires 15 hours of driving ONE WAY REEEEEAAAALLLY sucks! Anyhow, we loaded up the truck with an estimated departure time of 9pm (that in reality turned out to be 1am) and headed on our way. I'll spare you the agonizing details of the packing and loading itself but I'm lucky the fridge and mattress made it at all!
Navigating the 15 foot box truck full of my junk along a mapquest route comes with its own challenges but along the way I had the good fortune of running into torrential rains, sleet, snow, hail (yes...hail) and a merciless Virginia State Trooper - I kid you not..it was awful, just awful.
Poor James had the dubious task of keeping me awake the entire trip which was often a challenge. I survived on coffee, Mt. Dew, loads of caffeine pills and mom's homemade cookies (poor Bo only got about half of what was actually made for him - haha). When the sugar runs low those little mini chocolate donuts work wonders as well...trouble with sugar and caffeine highs is that when the low hits you, it hits you HARD. The highway dept. was really on to something when they designed those rumble strips to wake you up when you begin swerving off the road ;)
First stop...Bo's old homestead where we got to rest our weary bodies for about 5 minutes before piling into his car for yet another trip...this time to Atlanta. At this point we had been up for over 24 hours and were barely lucid but I was not going to let any of that get in the way of seeing Slayer in concert! Somehow in the confusion and extreme exhaustion I managed to leave my jacket at Bo's house...not to worry right, after all we were in Georgia now - where it's warm. Standing outside in the line to get into the club it felt like it was about 30 degrees, I'm sure it was much warmer than that but it sure didn't feel it. I shivered my way through the wait while Bo did a great job of sheltering me from the wind and keeping me warm. The concert was great and I managed to stay awake the entire time :) James even got into the mosh pit, I have a sneaky suspicion it may have been to get out some aggression that spending 15 hours cooped up in a small area with your sister who can't stop babbling or getting drowsy can do to you.
After the concert Bo reluctantly gave me my first experience at the infamous Waffle House. I've heard some stories and certainly seen plenty of them (they are EVERYWHERE here) but never had the pleasure of dining in one of these fine establishments yet. After the required pleasantries (yes, in the south the servers are pleasant and like to converse with you) we placed our order and prepared to be dazzled - hahaha, or in Bo's case....hoped that I could get through the meal without fleeing in terror.
Perusing the menu I looked for something that would be reasonably 'safe' to eat. As I understand it, when an order is placed the cook takes a ladle of grease, throws it on the grill and then looks to see what food to add. I glanced in the direction of the cook and grill (it's all open) and quickly realizing that was a bad idea lowered my eyes back to the menu. I kept seeing pictures of these odd round conglomerations of something on the plates but couldn't quite make out what they were supposed to be. I asked Bo what they were (which of course gave him a big laugh) and found out that they were hashbrowns. I DO know what hashbrowns are but I've never seen them look quite like that. The restaurant boasts that they are world famous and you can order them in an array of different styles..covered, smothered, chunked etc. Apparently you can get these famous potatoes covered with just about any food you can think of. I wasn't quite brave enough to try them yet but James went ahead and got them with cheese on top - he's still alive so I guess that's a good sign.
Morning came far too quick but it was finally time to see our new house. Exhausted and barely functioning I was filled with a nervous excitement, pictures are one thing but now I could finally see where I'd be living. The drive to our exit was easy and it's a short distance from there to the house. Bo had spent plenty of time preparing me for the area in which we'd be living, and I had looked up statistics and such (population 802) and I really thought I had a good idea of what to expect. Still...I was not prepared for the short drive to the house. The first glimpses of Resaca begin with the Town Hall (which is boarded up), the Resaca Mall (which is a small building with Resaca Mall written in marker on a cardboard sign) and the Resaca Grocery (which has a Confederate Flag on the outside next to a sign that says Sonny is a liar). I was suddenly filled with the surreal feeling that I had been transported back in time or to some far off foreign place...like Mayberry :).
The rest of the drive is through a couple of winding roads which run along a mixture of fields (most filled with cows), trailers and houses. There are a few churches on the way (never a shortage of those) and horses too, and we cross over a river as well. When you make your way down to the end of our road there is a short gravel road to the left, that's where I live... right across from the big lot with two horses on it. I like telling people I live on a gravel road...I like the idea of living on a gravel road, I have no idea why. Maybe it's something to do with the endless miles of concrete in Jersey...somehow gravel just seems more peaceful. I'm sure it's not something to brag about and it's not nearly as practical as having a paved street but I like it...I live on a gravel road :)
I'm still not used to parking in the yard but that's what people do here. It's not like you just pull up into your front yard, there is a spot that has obviously been used for years for parking, and it's next to the house but I still feel strange pulling into it. After the initial shock of my new surroundings I got the grand tour. The house is better than I expected, it needs a lot of work but it's a nice house overall and I can envision it being finished and being a great little home. It has got a nice piece of property with it with a couple of trees in front and woods and a small 'crick' (creek) in the back.
There's tons more to tell and I'm really behind but I must get back to work - the house isn't going to straighten itself out. It's a very new experience for me to feel like where I live is mine, to know that when I make something nice it's not for a landlord it's for us. It's also very strange living near cows and across the street from horses (I've already made friends with them) but it's starting to feel like home. I think the sweat and hard work going into it everyday helps.
I'll add more about some of the people I've met and my experiences soon as well as moving trauma stories and the waterbed saga, but for now I'm signing off and getting back to work.
As you may have guessed, I'm here and an official resident of Georgia now, although I must add that actually moving here wasn't without its hellacious moments. Two of my brothers best friends were out of town and unable to help with the move, a couple others bailed on him but luckily a few of his loyal girlfriends showed up to help. Even though they have an odd obsession with the smell of his hair they seemed ok and were a huge help. Moving sucks! That's the long and short of it, it's just a treacherous and brutal task. However, as someone who has moved FREQUENTLY during my life I have to say this - moving yourself in a rented truck that requires 15 hours of driving ONE WAY REEEEEAAAALLLY sucks! Anyhow, we loaded up the truck with an estimated departure time of 9pm (that in reality turned out to be 1am) and headed on our way. I'll spare you the agonizing details of the packing and loading itself but I'm lucky the fridge and mattress made it at all!
Navigating the 15 foot box truck full of my junk along a mapquest route comes with its own challenges but along the way I had the good fortune of running into torrential rains, sleet, snow, hail (yes...hail) and a merciless Virginia State Trooper - I kid you not..it was awful, just awful.
Poor James had the dubious task of keeping me awake the entire trip which was often a challenge. I survived on coffee, Mt. Dew, loads of caffeine pills and mom's homemade cookies (poor Bo only got about half of what was actually made for him - haha). When the sugar runs low those little mini chocolate donuts work wonders as well...trouble with sugar and caffeine highs is that when the low hits you, it hits you HARD. The highway dept. was really on to something when they designed those rumble strips to wake you up when you begin swerving off the road ;)
First stop...Bo's old homestead where we got to rest our weary bodies for about 5 minutes before piling into his car for yet another trip...this time to Atlanta. At this point we had been up for over 24 hours and were barely lucid but I was not going to let any of that get in the way of seeing Slayer in concert! Somehow in the confusion and extreme exhaustion I managed to leave my jacket at Bo's house...not to worry right, after all we were in Georgia now - where it's warm. Standing outside in the line to get into the club it felt like it was about 30 degrees, I'm sure it was much warmer than that but it sure didn't feel it. I shivered my way through the wait while Bo did a great job of sheltering me from the wind and keeping me warm. The concert was great and I managed to stay awake the entire time :) James even got into the mosh pit, I have a sneaky suspicion it may have been to get out some aggression that spending 15 hours cooped up in a small area with your sister who can't stop babbling or getting drowsy can do to you.
After the concert Bo reluctantly gave me my first experience at the infamous Waffle House. I've heard some stories and certainly seen plenty of them (they are EVERYWHERE here) but never had the pleasure of dining in one of these fine establishments yet. After the required pleasantries (yes, in the south the servers are pleasant and like to converse with you) we placed our order and prepared to be dazzled - hahaha, or in Bo's case....hoped that I could get through the meal without fleeing in terror.
Perusing the menu I looked for something that would be reasonably 'safe' to eat. As I understand it, when an order is placed the cook takes a ladle of grease, throws it on the grill and then looks to see what food to add. I glanced in the direction of the cook and grill (it's all open) and quickly realizing that was a bad idea lowered my eyes back to the menu. I kept seeing pictures of these odd round conglomerations of something on the plates but couldn't quite make out what they were supposed to be. I asked Bo what they were (which of course gave him a big laugh) and found out that they were hashbrowns. I DO know what hashbrowns are but I've never seen them look quite like that. The restaurant boasts that they are world famous and you can order them in an array of different styles..covered, smothered, chunked etc. Apparently you can get these famous potatoes covered with just about any food you can think of. I wasn't quite brave enough to try them yet but James went ahead and got them with cheese on top - he's still alive so I guess that's a good sign.
Morning came far too quick but it was finally time to see our new house. Exhausted and barely functioning I was filled with a nervous excitement, pictures are one thing but now I could finally see where I'd be living. The drive to our exit was easy and it's a short distance from there to the house. Bo had spent plenty of time preparing me for the area in which we'd be living, and I had looked up statistics and such (population 802) and I really thought I had a good idea of what to expect. Still...I was not prepared for the short drive to the house. The first glimpses of Resaca begin with the Town Hall (which is boarded up), the Resaca Mall (which is a small building with Resaca Mall written in marker on a cardboard sign) and the Resaca Grocery (which has a Confederate Flag on the outside next to a sign that says Sonny is a liar). I was suddenly filled with the surreal feeling that I had been transported back in time or to some far off foreign place...like Mayberry :).
The rest of the drive is through a couple of winding roads which run along a mixture of fields (most filled with cows), trailers and houses. There are a few churches on the way (never a shortage of those) and horses too, and we cross over a river as well. When you make your way down to the end of our road there is a short gravel road to the left, that's where I live... right across from the big lot with two horses on it. I like telling people I live on a gravel road...I like the idea of living on a gravel road, I have no idea why. Maybe it's something to do with the endless miles of concrete in Jersey...somehow gravel just seems more peaceful. I'm sure it's not something to brag about and it's not nearly as practical as having a paved street but I like it...I live on a gravel road :)
I'm still not used to parking in the yard but that's what people do here. It's not like you just pull up into your front yard, there is a spot that has obviously been used for years for parking, and it's next to the house but I still feel strange pulling into it. After the initial shock of my new surroundings I got the grand tour. The house is better than I expected, it needs a lot of work but it's a nice house overall and I can envision it being finished and being a great little home. It has got a nice piece of property with it with a couple of trees in front and woods and a small 'crick' (creek) in the back.
There's tons more to tell and I'm really behind but I must get back to work - the house isn't going to straighten itself out. It's a very new experience for me to feel like where I live is mine, to know that when I make something nice it's not for a landlord it's for us. It's also very strange living near cows and across the street from horses (I've already made friends with them) but it's starting to feel like home. I think the sweat and hard work going into it everyday helps.
I'll add more about some of the people I've met and my experiences soon as well as moving trauma stories and the waterbed saga, but for now I'm signing off and getting back to work.