Saturday with the Prince

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I’m excited to introduce you to the Prince, who only made a recent appearance in my story, but has poured so much joy and sunshine into my life I can’t imagine it without him!

Prince Andrew makes his fortune as a poet, writer and actor. He has a small castle in Midtown, Atlanta with old, nostalgic wood floors and antique glass doorknobs. From his bedroom window, you can see the stately houses and condos of Midtown, and past them, the skyline of Atlanta.

The Prince and I sit at his table by the window. Cold air leaks in around the window frame so we drink fresh-ground, French-pressed coffee from small clay mugs. His is always black. Mine is always heavily sugared and hopefully has some cream, too. As we talk and tell each other the worst jokes, my eye is drawn up above the table to the lovely art on the walls. There are so many prints, small ones, all different subjects, each richly framed and hung just so.

In the bedroom, my attention is always pulled to the overflowing bookcase. I stand in front of it, staring. “Do you want to read?” He always asks, watching me. “No,” I say. That’s not always true. I want to read, but I want to spend time with him just being in this sensory experience. Being in Prince Andrew’s castle feels like an art gallery started a coffee shop then invited a writer to live there.

Of course, his castle being right in Midtown, we can’t just stay there the whole time. Saturday we left to explore the neighborhood. We walked about five miles… A long walk, but so wonderful.

We saw parks where, though it was winter, the landscaping was still breathtaking and the colors were a seasonal palette I never knew existed. Streams flowed below sycamore trees hundreds of years old.

We walked street after long street of homes that had been loved for decades. They were often tiny, with miniature manicured lawns. There was no house without some detail to enjoy: a stone staircase here, ivy carefully cultivated there. Diamond lattice in the windows or perfect birch trees.

We ended the day walking to a hole-in-the-wall bar, a dark, quiet, cozy place in the early afternoon. We sat at the bar like real adults eating spinach and artichoke dip, watching the drinks poured and speculating about what the years might hold.

At the end of the day, our feet hurt, but neither of us complained. Who knew that the most perfect day of the year might be a misty, freezing January day in Midtown? Saturday I learned that every season has its own special loveliness. Thank you, Andrew you darling, for sharing your kingdom with me.

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Let’s Talk about Something Ordinary

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Anyone can go to the Marietta square or old historic Roswell and appreciate the charm of those places.  I explored several places and could have shared them; however, during my brief stint in Atlanta’s suburbs, I wanted my blog post to focus on an ordinary experience: grocery shopping.

Living in my own apartment for the first time, I enjoyed doing my own budgeting and meal planning.  I quickly learned to enjoy Publix over all other grocery stores in my area – not because their prices were necessarily the best (great buy-one-get-one sales, though), but because you could expect smiles at the cash registers and conversations in the aisles.  When a hundred dollars was stolen from me at my local Publix, the store manager took the time to go back through security footage and find exactly who stole from me – and then he paid for my groceries.  I’ll never forget that kind bald man.

So, as a loyal customer, I went into a Publix in Sandy Springs at lunchtime.  Picking up a box of fabric softener sheets, it suddenly dawned on me: I was in the middle of an amazing experience.

Fabric Softener - Publix

I looked down the row of aisles neatly stocked.  Every kind of food you could want is on those shelves – enough of it to feed a regimen.  Some of those foods originated thousands of miles from Sandy Springs, and yet, through an efficient logistical chain, have all made their way here.  The aisles have enough space to maneuver comfortably; displays are located to catch the eye.  All of this space is wonderfully well-planned.

Aisles - Publix

Glossy apples, perfectly spherical dimpled oranges, ripe strawberries in clear plastic packaging…  Lettuce and spinach dewy in bins along the walls, watered by the gentle misting spray.  This produce section is so attractive and brightly colored – by FOOD!  By lovely fruits and vegetables that grew from the earth.

Produce - Publix

And the floral section!  Lovely fresh flowers of all descriptions, a whole bank of them.  They’re elegant.  They beg to be taken home to brighten your dining room.

Flowers - Publix Flowers 2 - Publix  Flowers 3 - Publix

Near the door is a lady at a stand, demonstrating a new recipe.  A little ways off, the deli sends out a delicious aroma: sub sandwiches, fried chicken wings, onion rings, chicken tenders.  All kinds of people from road workers to businessmen eat here at the small café

Demo stand - Publix  Deli - Publix

I go to an open kiosk where I can scan my groceries myself, bag them, pay, and go.  It takes about a minute and a half.  As I leave, I catch an employee’s eye and she says, “Have a great day.”  I smile back and say, “You too!” and leave the store feeling that our brief exchange has put a little more civility in the world.

Admittedly, this stuff is a little bizarre to write.  No, Publix isn’t paying me to write any of this (a shame too).  But going to the grocery store is something we all do and we all relate to.  Appreciate it. Appreciate the ordinary things. When you stop and think about it, they hold so much to love.

Castles in Kennesaw

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The landscape shifted as I drove from rural north Georgia to suburban Atlanta.  Fast-flowing highways replaced laid-back roads; hazy plains replaced forested foothills.  Sleek new Acuras and Mercedes replaced older-model Hondas and Toyotas.  Speed limits became irrelevant.  I glimpsed the beautiful skyline of Atlanta to the south before the highway curved and I shot north again, this time deep into the suburbs.

Highway Sunrise

Down a tiny side-street, tucked away from the main thoroughfares, I found a row of well-groomed small castles of red brick.  Queen Jennie stood in a driveway waving to me with her good hand.  Her right hand, encased in a brace, suffers from a strange illness the doctors have still been unable to identify despite her weekly visits.   However strange and sad this malady, this Queen has a cheerful heart, loves company and has a gift for making guests feel like family… although, to be quite honest, I never turn down an invitation to make myself at home and usually end up doing so whether invited or not.

Although the houses line the street austerely, the house was warm on the inside with color: blue, yellow, red and bright wooden floors.  We dragged my suitcases down a twisting staircase.  I couldn’t wait to see where I would be staying.  As we rounded the corner, I couldn’t help smiling.  A touch-me lamp cast soft light over a bed with blue, purple, gold, and Sherpa covers, colors all strikingly deep and royal.  Carpet softened all footsteps. Beside the bed, an overstuffed sofa and TV invited relaxation.  I set up my little electric teakettle in the kitchenette.  It couldn’t have been more lovely.

BlanketsTouch-me Lamp

Of course, I wasn’t alone while I moved in.  Besides the Queen, the happy golden retriever, Captain, and expressive boxer, Penelope, made sure I didn’t feel neglected.  These two might be my favorite part of living in this castle.  They are the official guardians of the house and the unofficial doorbells.  No opportunity to meet new friends eludes them.  No scrap of food escapes their notice.  Even better, they know instinctively that anyone on the couch needs snuggles, and if that person has a blanket or coffee, even more so.

Captain

Right now, I’m sitting curled up on the couch upstairs with this journal. Captain’s large, friendly dog-face is pushing closer and closer to my knee.  Coffee is brewing in the kitchen, drawing out the house’s other inhabitants, David, Hannah, and Jim.  They circle around making terrible puns and dry jokes at eachothers’ expense.  I joined their banter for a while but unfortunately lost all credibility when they discovered I had never watched Back to the Future.

I will be so at home here.  This castle is warm, lamplit, fully three stories and overflowing with good coffee, new books to read, oversized lap dogs and sharp, witty conversation.  I love this castle in Kennesaw.  I can’t wait to explore the suburbs.

Endings, Beginnings

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My apartment stood empty and quiet, the rooms reduced to vast expanses of off-white carpet and blank beige walls.  My car was packed to overflowing. The keys were on the counter.  When I locked the door and pulled it shut behind me, I’d be leaving this apartment in Gainesville, Georgia for the last time.

I’d nestled in this little haven for a year and a half.  Friends and had visited me here.  I’d put out a kitchen fire, made a tent fort from my furniture and spare sheets, set out fragrant roses in vases and burned candles in the evening.  After yearning for my own place since age fourteen, this apartment had been a dream come true, and I decorated and nested to my heart’s content here.  It was mine.  It was home.

And Gainesville, this big town an hour north of Atlanta, Georgia?  It was here I first lived independently as a princess, away from my parents and the shelter of a small college environment.  I learned how to drive on these streets.  I learned independence and self-discipline.  I learned the value of volunteer work and the futility of empty ambition.  I felt like a woman around age eighteen, but there’s a difference in being a woman and being an independent woman.  I found my feet as an adult in Gainesville, and from here I can find the confidence to be dauntless and venture into the great Beyond.

Comfort is a certain indicator of change coming.  Only a few weeks ago, at this hour in the morning, I was in the kitchen making myself tea and toast as the sun rose and thinking, “I like this life.”  No plans to change a thing.  Looking back now, I should have known change was in the wind.  And deliciously so.

The past few weeks, the stars have aligned for me to move to Atlanta, the city to the south long singing siren songs to me.  That’s not all – starting in about two weeks, I’ll be using Atlanta as my home base to travel to big cities and small ones all over America.

As I shut the door of my apartment behind me for the last time, I found myself smiling.  I’ve made so many memories here… but bigger adventures await.  It’s time to put on toe shoes and dance on the edge of life’s precipice.  Now more than ever, it’s time to be the dauntless princess.

I’m writing this blog to share this life with you: a crazy wonderful chronicle of success, failure, love, looking for the beautiful in the commonplace.

Thank you for reading.  Let’s live 2015 to its fullest.

~The Dauntless Princess~