ROSEMARY'S ADVENTURES: MINI-ADVENTURE CLOSE TO HOME

I need to tell you how lovely it is to know you are reading this. Some folks write in the Comments (below), some send me an e-mail and some tell me in person or in Facebook. Regardless, I love thinking of you when I write about my special year.

EATONTON

Monday I wake up feeling dopey. But I want to take my photographs to Eatonton Georgia. The Plaza Arts Center invites photographers to enter their photography-only show scheduled April 2-8. My photos were rejected by the two other places I entered them (juried shows at Lyndon House and OCAF) but there were hundreds of other entries including painting, sculpture, metalwork, and pottery. I need to learn how to make my photos more artistic (and less realistic) for those shows.

But this non-juried show is only photographs. The only way my pictures can be rejected is if I fill out the paperwork incorrectly. The judge will not jury pictures in or out but will award prizes amongst three categories: amateur, professional, and youth. I check the forms three times since my brain is still bleary even after two more jolts of caffeine. Did I check all the boxes?

My car needs gas. This is the kind of morning where I can’t figure out the buttons on the gas pump.

Heading South on 441 is a pretty nice drive. Farms, pecan groves.

I stop at an Oconee National Forest ranger office. Nobody comes out to speak with me. I take some free literature, look briefly at the displays, and take pictures of weeds on their lawn.

Many weeds are beautiful close up plus they can be good food for birds. I’m coming to like them.

Nobody is home at the Art Center. Empty lobby. I knock on an unlabeled door. Nobody answers but I hear a voice. The door opens onto an empty hallway at the tourist center. Why do I feel conspicuous when there’s nobody watching?

Aha! A sign about where to take photographs points to another room, which also turns out to be empty.

"Hello..." I sing.

A young Chamber of Commerce employee arrives telling me to put my photos in a box in yet another empty room. I just leave them there? I’m in the Amateur category which is so right!

Quick stop at their lovely restroom.

I feel unsettled so I ground myself by getting on my knees on their front lawn, to take more weed photos.

The dandelion head seems magical with the sun making each of its 50 flower seeds shine.

HEADING NORTH

I’ve got scanty directions for going home in an interesting fashion, hopefully for a walk in the woods.   First street is Harmony Road, which is off 441, turning a backward right. I give myself points for finding it because the highway sign calls it “117.”   But then...

Seems like I’m lost in farm country. I pass a Scenic Farms Driving Tour sign — twice.   Then, two different signs warning Congested Area. I see no other cars, no people. Are the horses, cows and goats congested?

Two signs saying Famous Authors Driving Tour entice me, but there is no pullover to read the little print. I hope to pursue that another time: Article about Famous Authors Driving Tour

On a narrow farm road a wobbling flatbed truck holding six massive rolls of uncovered hay looks like it will fall over into my lane. I am too scared to grab my camera. In some fields, hay rolls are covered in white plastic: giant marshmallows.

I remember helping Gene at haying time.   He’d poke the center of a newly bound roll with his special pointy tractor and put it in the back of the Dodge Ram, which I’d drive to the barn. Then he’d use that same tractor to stab the hay roll and move it into place in an ever-growing, neatly-arranged stack. What abundance: to have a big barn with a good roof covering dozens of rolls of hay for his happy cows!

On Old Bethel Church Rd there are crutches propped up against the front door of what I assume is old Bethel Church. What do the crutches signify? Is it testimony of a healing? Are they someone’s extra set waiting for adoption? Is someone inside the building limping around, holding onto pews? I love mysteries.

There’s Rock Eagle again. I noticed it once going south to Eatonton and now, no more than three times, coming north. Looks like I will have to go home on 441, but to make this day an adventure, I want to see new things. And I do.

There’s a brand new store right on the main drag, south of Madison. They opened February 17, trying to sell Georgia-made and Georgia-grown products.

Meat, milk, potatoes, yarn, cheese.

I’ve never seen loose detergent for sale.
Sort of an expensive Earth Fare.

I make a couple of stops I’ve never taken the time to check out before: the Apalachee River and the old Apalachee Schoolhouse.

The sun clock in front of the school tells time with Roman numerals but it is off one hour. It says it is “I’ instead of “II.”