Listening to Garrison Keillor on beautiful Saturday night, trying to get my study cap on so I can get this transportation paper written, but they’re singing Paul Simon medleys and the prospect of Monday is still far off.
Yesterday morning began early and ended late. T, J, and I headed down to Warm Springs at 8ish for the first day of the Fall Ramble. The entrance hallway of the Warm Springs Institute was a good place to be though flooded with sunlight on a gorgeous day. The lunch board meeting was thankfully on the short side and then J and I had to get rides out to our posts for the afternoon.
N bravely drove her camry up and down a newly graveled road that left many vehicles momentarily stranded in the valleys that led to one of the most exciting sites (ie fanciest house), where we had to drop off J. The road to the Saultopaul Chapel where I was stationed was just as long but less treacherous, at least there were signs along the way—past the barn, around the chicken coop, over the pasture, and through the woods—to make you feel you were on the right course. The chapel itself was built a few years ago as a place for quiet contemplation for the owners, set among the Georgia pines it was a lovely place to spend the afternoon. Obviously though it is not NR eligible, its claim to historical fame are the windows and pews which were salvaged from a church being demolished in Nova Scotia (the owner’s 2nd home). The landscape was perfectly groomed, new pine straw rakes around the fake stack-stone piers and stoop, the boxwoods lush (and probably new), but the hot landscaping topic of the day was the dwarf liriope (or is it mondo grass?) growing in the sandstone path. I particularly loved one botanically interested couple and the husband who pulled out his pocket knife to relieve some of the renegade grasses creeping into the non-existant lawn (it’s hard to grow grass under pine trees). I’m pretty sure he pocketed those specimens for a little future guerilla planting along medians in their home of Bainbridge.
At 5:30 the caretakers blasted out of the trees on four-wheelers to lock up and I hitched a ride up the road to Sweet Home Plantation, it was cocktail time. Chardonnay with ice was the choice of the evening and don’t be shy. You learn the art of a generous pour if you work at the Trust, it keeps our customers away longer. The house there too was beautiful and I captured was able to capture this young fellow lounging on the back porch, away from the hubbub of the house packed with admirers of cloth, furniture, and copper tubs set in wooden boxes.
Look at that, Garrison Keillor is ending and I guess it’s time to buckle down for the evening.