A True Suburban Community
15.10.2014 - 22.10.2014
This is my first experience in a golf cart community. I had never realized what that meant. Sure, I had seen resorts and small compounds where golf carts were used. Even in Green Valley, Arizona. which I wrote about in the topic Pet Sitting Two, they used golf carts, but not like here in Peachtree City, Georgia. Which as Wikipedia warns, don't confuse Peachtree City with Peachtree Corners, Georgia.
There are miles and miles of tree-lined, honeysuckle-draped golf cart paths throughout this 2007 incorporated and planned city. People take their kids to school, go to church, and run errands on these golf cart paths. If they aren't doing that, they are jogging or riding their bikes. So, why are there still thousands and thousands of cars on the streets and highways at all times?
I guess, unlike I have been doing, they don't just sit around the house.
I chose this spot on AirBnB specifically so I could just SIT in one pleasant spot.
I was admonished with NEIGHBORS ARE WATCHING on the information sheet left by the proprietor of this place. They must have reported that my van barely left the driveway. At least once a day, I have received text messages, phone calls, and emails suggesting all the fun and exciting things I could do in Peachtree City.
If you want to live in a suburb, this is the type of place to do it. Trees and shrubs - that actually started growing where they now stand - surround homes and shopping areas. Nothing like the sprawl that spreads from Fort Collins to the Springs in Colorado. And the commercial ugliness I complained about in Tennessee doesn't exist. You could live here for months and not know the Walgreens was jut down the street because it is concealed. Get out the GPS!
Originally, I thought I would take day trips to the small old towns in the area and perhaps a day into Atlanta (I think that must be where most of the folks around here are employed.) But when I arrived and saw I had such a delightful back yard with birds and commuting deer, a screened-in porch, and plenty of spots inside to curl up to knit and read. I just didn't want to look at one more historic building, one more cemetery, or one more scenic overlook from a winding hiking trail.
I just wanted to sit, so sit I did.
One afternoon, I thought I would go see a movie. On Google, I found the Legacy Theater in nearby Tyrone. Imagine my surprise when I arrived and discovered it was a live performance theater. The show was Moonlight and Magnolias (which I had never heard of), a farce on the development of Gone with the Wind.
It was an excellent performance. (It definitely made me want to see the movie again and maybe even read the book.)
I thought the three cast members were terrific. I had never expected to see such fine performances in this spot of the country - no matter how close to Atlanta.
At the end of the show, the applause was "okay," but not enthusiastic. After all, I'm from Denver where we give every performance a standing ovation even if we just feel sorry for struggling performers. Because there was only a smattering of applause, I felt compelled to tell the cast how much I appreciated them. So I headed backstage and walked into the dressing room where I overheard, "........I just want to get the fuck out of here...."
To which I inserted, "I don't care, nor do I care you don't have your pants on, I just want to tell you what fantastic performances I just saw."
Although they seemed somewhat pleased, they didn't want to chat, but just get me the f____ out of there. My enjoyment of the play was not diminished.
I also found a spot to give me a new tiwist on southern food - Due South/.
I am preparing to head on to Alabama. The biography for that section is Sacred Dust by David Hill. The first 1/4 rather drags and gets confusing, but stick with it,