Overheard, out and about, Mrs. Grundy sees all, tells all

Staff

Published Friday, October 31, 2008

Peeping through my Venetian blind, I noticed the sunlight through the plumes of the pampas grass, a lovely sight on an Indian-summer day.

I had a number of trick-or-treaters last night for Halloween. As I opened my door to the little goblins, my mind went back to the ghost stories I was told in my youth by my “Aunt E,” as we called my Great Aunt Eva. She didn’t have to invent any tales; her actual adventures were scary enough. Children love to be scared; I don’t know why.

The cold weather this week has been enjoyable; it’s put me into the mood for soup, chili, chicken-and-dumplings, and hot chocolate.

Oh, don’t forget to “fall back” tonight and set your clocks an hour back.

Glenn and Cindy Cook have returned from a trip to Hawaii.

Mrs. Gotrocks told me that she was coming out of the Cracker Barrel in Greenville last week and ran smack-dab into Don and Dot Lingle. They had stopped to eat on their way to Atlanta to stay with their son Jeremy. From his house they were headed the next day to Eatonton, Georgia, to meet Don’s brothers and go through their mother’s things. Don has been playing with his stamp collection lately; he has been examining the collection, too, of the late Carl Shaw.

Mrs. Gotrocks said that she had hot Earl Grey tea at the Cracker Barrel, straight from Twining’s on Fleet Street in London. Earl Grey is probably the most popular of teas. Twining’s is where the Queen herself buys her tea; and, just think, the same tea can be purchased locally without “crossing the pond.”

It was a cool, rainy day when Mrs. Gotrocks had her tea in Greenville. She bought a bowl of chicken-and-dumplings in the Cracker Barrel to take off her chill. She also enjoyed shopping through all the Thanksgiving decorations in the gift shop.

Put on your calendar the Chautauqua in DeFuniak Springs, Florida, January 29 – February l.

I hear people bragging about one of our local talents, Andy Allen, a composer-singer with a fine voice.

At a recent Friday buffet at Tabby D.’s I spotted Jake and “M.C.” Merrill, the alliterative Harry and Helen Hinson, Judge Jerry Stokes, B. J. and Hazel McClain, Don and Cheryl Cotton, and Mr. and Mrs. Chase Cotton, and their little Savannah.

Ronald Davis is still preaching as interim at Bethany Baptist; Don Lingle is interim minister of music.

Seen at Off the Square Cafe were Tom and Martha (Eiland) Steele, proud owners of a new home in “Poseyville,” and Jack and Mary Perry, whose Lee is selling real estate in Santa Rosa, and whose Jan is with her family in Oxford, Mississippi.

I have asked the Portly Gentleman to take up his trip to Georgia at the point where he and his cousin, Miss Jo Driggers of Lexington, South Carolina, pull out of Washington, Georgia, and head north.

“Jo had her heart set on staying at Glen-Ella Springs Inn, a famous, country inn of sixteen rooms out in the middle of nowhere. We had to pass over mountain, dirt roads and drive through a spring running over the road before we found our rustic destination on the slope of a wooded hill at the edge of a grassy valley dotted with apple trees.

“Two floors of rooms are surrounded with covered porches. Our rooms on the second floor, like those below us, opened to rows of rockers. There were no telephones. Glen-Ella is truly hidden-away, a place of perfect peace and quiet. On the other side of the meadow stretching before us was a wooded mountain.

“Built in l875 by Glen and Ella Davidson, Glen-Ella was restored around l986. David and Ann Knopp are chef and wife.

“At twilight Jo and I had a fancy dinner of crab cakes and greens in the dining room and then went for a walk in the meadow and the inn’s garden, rich with blooms. In the cool of the evening we rocked on the second-floor balcony and watched deer come onto the meadow and eat the apples. After a cloak of darkness fell, we noted a light shining in the meadow; back and forth it went! We wondered why someone would be on the meadow so late at night. You wouldn’t have caught me out there in the dark! No, not for all the tea in China! The next morning at breakfast we learned that the light belonged to our host, Ed Kivett, who was out, walking his dog.

“The next morning in the cool, invigorating, mountain air, Jo and I leisurely enjoyed a very pleasant breakfast on the covered terrace next to the garden. Hummingbirds busied themselves among the red cypress vines, begonias, adjuratum, four o’clocks, zinnias, crepe myrtle, butterfly bushes, and Knock-out roses.

“The gracious innkeepers, Ed and Luci, took time to chat with us; and the waitress, Pat, kept us supplied with coffee, orange juice, fresh fruit (including figs), banana-nut bread, English muffins, bacon, scrambled eggs, and biscuits.

“We were in no hurry to leave this haven of quiet beauty, but Day drew us northward to Tallulah Gorge where we delighted in the gorge itself and an old-fashioned, gift shop far above it.

“When we got to Clayton, I thought of Frank and Tina Moore, who lived there once. Right above Clayton is Dillard with the famous Dillard House (restaurant). I drove through the Dillard complex with its numerous motel units; large, modern, stone-glass-and wood restaurant; barnyard animals; pleasant landscaping; and dahlia garden. The dahlias were used for table centerpieces.

“Across the road from the Dillard House, set in a valley rimmed with mountains, is Rabun Gap, a private, college-preparatory school for grades 6 – l2. We drove through this attractive campus.

“North Carolina was only five minutes away, so we ventured there, up to Franklin, across a mountain road by three waterfalls, and into Highlands, where, if my memory serves, Howard and Betty Ham went on their honeymoon and returned each year thereafter. Highlands is a favorite spot for many here in the ‘Dimple of Dixie.’ Some own cabins there.

“We returned to Dillard for a late lunch in the Dillard House at a round table by a large, front window with a splendid view of the valley with fog pillowing the surrounding mountains. The waitress placed dish after dish on our table – fried chicken, baked chicken, fried okra, mashed potatoes and gravy, biscuits, cabbage casserole, butter beans, cantaloupe, honeydew, blueberry jam, Vadalia relish, ham, tomatoes, cole slaw, greenbeans, corn-on-the-cob, stuffed bell peppers, sweet-potato soufflé, and pork chops. A tray of desserts was brought by for selections at the end. Each dish had enough for two or three people, and we were told to take away the leftovers, which we did for supper.

“Following our meal, we drove through the mountains to Helen, the Georgia village that has remade itself into a Swiss-or-German, look-alike village of shops, motels, and restaurants, set along the cold, clear Chattahoochee River in its infancy, running beautifully in rapids over mountain stones. Helen is beautiful but very commercialized.

“Next to Helen is Unicoi State Park with a fine lodge and restaurant, nice rooms, rustic cabins and cottages, lakes, camping areas, walking trails, a swimming beach, gift shop, quilt displays, conference rooms, you-name-it.

“Jo and I rented a cabin in the state park for two nights. Ours was perched among the trees with a little balcony where we sat at night and enjoyed the cool air. We had our own kitchen, fully equipped, dining room, sitting room, and two bedrooms, but no TV and no telephone.

“Came the dawn!

“After the breakfast buffet in the Unicoi Lodge, Jo and I explored the park and then drove down into Helen, where we parked at the Helen Presbyterian Church, where I had once worshipped, and then leisurely walked through the little town for a few hours, shopping, sitting, enjoying the flowers and river, and the many beautiful, architectural, and natural sights.

“My favorite shop is the Windmill Dutch Imports.

“While Jo was buying Christmas presents, I sat under the main bridge and watched the Chattahoochee rush by, recalling my previous visit when I had floated on an inner-tube downstream in warmer weather. Some idlers on the banks had called out, ‘When is it due?’

“I thought of Sidney Lanier’s poem, ‘The Song of the Chattahoochee,’ and quoted from its alliterative opening, ‘Out of the hills of Habersham/Down the valleys of Hall.’ Habersham and Hall are counties in Northern Georgia where the Chattahoochee originates. The river later forms part of the border between Georgia and our own, beloved Alabama.

“Jo and I took lunch at Hofer’s on the main street. I especially enjoyed the bread and butter; sometimes there is nothing better than a simple meal of bread and butter. Jo had a Rachel sandwich instead of a Reuben; the Rachel has slaw instead of sauerkraut.

“Hofer’s has a bakery as well as restaurant; Jo and I both bought pastries.

“We then drove along the Chattahoochee for several miles into the wilderness, seeing the river tumble over fallen limbs and moss-covered stones in a thousand little waterfalls, banked by ferns, trees, and wildflowers. The sun flecked through the shade of the myriad leaves.

“In Unicoi Park we hiked up a steep trail to Anna Ruby Falls, a tall, double waterfall from two creeks, Curtis and York, dropping into one pool and becoming Smith Creek, which dashes down the mountain to become Unicoi Lake. Jo and I walked up the rustic trail by Smith Creek, back and forth over little bridges, to its origin below the two falls. Smith Creek, with its many small waterfalls, stones, boulders, wild growth, and meandering ways and cool pools, was more beautiful than the twin falls at its head. Stone benches offered rest along the way.

“Back in Helen we dined at the Hofbrau Riverfront Restaurant and then attended Bible study in the Helen Presbyterian Church. The minister, Ken Richmond, recommended two books, Shack and Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes, by Kenneth E. Bailey. The people were most attentive and kind to Jo and me.

“Our last morning in Helen we ate breakfast at Hofer’s, bought more pastries, and headed to Athens via Cleveland, Georgia, for Jo’s car. Jo bought me a gingerbread man, decorated in icing. Once in Athens, Jo was off like a shot for home to make her hair appointment!

“On my way home I passed again through Eatonton, not knowing at the time that Don Lingle’s mother, who lived there, was dying, and that Don and Dot had been in both Eatonton and Athens at the same time as I because of his mother’s ill health. We were, as Longfellow had written, ‘ships that pass in the night.’

“I also passed through Newnan with its beautiful, old homes, grand churches, and magnificent courthouse. I always associate Newnan with Curtis Thomasson’s cousin, Margie Malloy, who once lived in Newnan. Mrs. Malloy was a remarkable lady. Curtis ‘worshipped the ground she walked on.’”

That concludes the series by the Portly Gentleman about his week in Georgia in September.

This coming week one may celebrate the birthdays of William Cullen Bryant, John Philip Sousa, and James Arthur Wilson. Bryant, a New England poet, wrote “Thanatopsis” and “To a Waterfowl.” He spoke of this season in his “Death of the Flowers” by saying, “The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year.”

Sousa, the American “March King,” composed “Stars and Stripes Forever,” which we hear every Fourth of July.

Mr. Wilson finished at the Andalusia High School, played on its first football team, and then taught there 36 years, a record at the time of his retirement. He also served at A.H.S. as principal l8 years, a record that still stands. He has been called “Mr. Andalusia High School.”

Don’t forget to vote Tuesday, gentle reader.