Went back home to the hill country for a few days; that is the foot hills of the Appalachia Mountains in Georgia.
What takes twelve hours to drive took an hour and forty minutes from take off to landing. Of course it takes longer to get checked in at both airports. The line at the Atlanta airport was longer than a chow line at a military boot camp.
Had to take off my shoes for screening and had to walk where thousands of others have walked either barefoot or stocking feet. Hope my tootsies dont rot off.
Somebody made a comment about the handrail on the escalators at the Atlanta Airport and how much bacteria would be on them; I dared not touch it
much. The escalators are as steep as the hill behind my aunts house which is steep enough to break your neck.
Got to see some people who have not seen me in fifty years; would not have known them if they came to the front door.
Managed to get two bottles of Muscadine (2005) wine from my aunts stash.
Cringed when the gal at the baggage check in line sort of tossed the suit case on the conveyor belt. Each bottle was individually wrapped in a sweat shirt and made it to Goose Creek.
Asked around to a few ole boys who might know if there was any white liquor to be had, all of which is no mas in those hills this day and time…so they say. One said too many liquor stores around now days.
Humph!
Way back when, one could get white liquor, same as corn liquor and moonshine from six folks. All of whom are now long gone to their happy hunting ground.
Speaking of, did manage to go by the cemetery where the folks are and numerous other friends and relatives. Always a sad venture indeed if you ever done such. Talked to some of them and felt good about it, thats all that counts aint it.
Glad to be back home on flat land and in my own bed.
Four Dog sho was glad to see me.
