Blog#22-Out of the Frying Pan…

Okefenokee to Savannah

Got up this morning and headed to the Trading Post for a cup of coffee. They have a Keurig there and sell it by the K Cup. They were out of K Cups. Why, why, why didn’t I buy more coffee?

This family was fishing in the Okefenokee. Unfortunately, when they reeled in the first fish, a large gator swam over and from then on, game on. His head is there in the water

I left the Okefenokee and headed for the little town of Fargo outside the swamp. I went into a little cafe there. When I walked in the door, there were six women at the main table and they all turned to greet me. I said “This looks like a meeting I’m interrupting”. They said it was, but what could they do for me. I asked for a cup of coffee, and one of the ladies jumped without hesitation to her feet, nearly knocked her chair over backward, and said she would make me a pot.

It looked to me like she was ready for that meeting to be done.

There were several men who came in to eat while I waited for the coffee. Lots of bantering between the waitress and each of them. The ladies at the table joined right in, and pretty soon the men were watching videos on the ladies’ phones, looking over their shoulders. They were talking about the new cop in town. Now they have two officers.

It reminded me of the Dairy Queen in Reedsport where I grew up. Everyone knows everyone, same men come in to eat the same things every day. No need to order–the cook is already putting in on the grill as the customer sits down.

When I worked in Madras at the hospital, I had a friend there, B.J., who told me that she is one of the founding members of the Fossil Ladies’ Garden Club, and they meet officially once a week. To shoot pool and drink beer. She told me the county asked them to have a booth at the county fair—so they did. She said, as a joke, they made displays from dried up dead branches, etc. Thought they were hilarious. The fair judges one-upped them—they awarded them a blue ribbon.

I think I met the Fargo Ladies’ Garden Club today.

I drove though some beautiful countryside on my way toward Savannah. I passed a honey farm and had to stop and buy some from the Hendrix Honey farm—on the honor system. The sign said the honey was from gallberry.

Hendrix honey stand

The honey farm

I had to look that up- gallberry is a type of holly and the honey is prized because it has one of the highest levels of an enzyme that significantly decreases granulation.  They use this honey to blend with other honey to spread the magic.

I continued on to Waycross, Georgia, where my mother was born.

I may have relatives buried there

Back on the road, the wind picked up and the rain came down so hard that I pulled over to sit it out.

Looking through my windsheid in the Walmart lot

Luckily, I stopped in the Walmart parking lot in Jesup, about 65 miles from Savannah. Suddenly, my phone made noise like an airhorn in my car and an emergency message came over by text: Tornado in your area. Seek shelter immediately.

Thank you!!

Shit the bed. And the car. I’m from Oregon, for cripes sake.  I researched this trip.  This is NOT tornado season!

I grabbed purse, laptop, camera and binocs and ran to the door. They let me in, then locked the door. Everyone inside was ushered to the very back of the store away from the windows and where the walls were reinforced for just such an occurrence. I was glad I wasn’t out on the road between towns, because I forgot what you’re supposed to do in that situation. Get in an overpass? Turn and run? (Neither one is correct) I wouldn’t have a clue what direction to go.

These gals rock. Waiting with them helped me to not wail with fear. As soon as I got out my camera, they immediately posed.

I stood waiting with the employees there for about 45 minutes, until the National Weather Center lifted the warning. It was an experience I do not wish to repeat. I was so happy to see my car in the parking lot. The forecast was for continued severe weather for the county I was in, the county I had left, and all the way to Savannah. The storm had brought golfball size hail to parts of Georgia, Alabama and Florida—breaking windshields. That would really suck if it happened to me. Golfballs in my bedroom.

Since I had spent some time with these nice ladies, I explained that I am blogging and had described a town as being black.  I asked if that was offensive.  They answered, “No.  It’s what we are.”

It seems silly that the question ever came up. I am not a racist, and I shouldn’t have to worry about being politically correct. I think too many people out there are making a fuss where no fuss is needed.  Leads to trouble where there was never any trouble. I meant no disrespect, and no disrespect was felt. But somewhere, someone who was never involved is finding a way to twist it.

I headed off to Savannah, dark clouds billowing in the distance where I was going, keeping my hands tight on the wheel.  I stopped along the way and ate at a place called Izola’s. Buffett style southern soul food. I had the fried chicken (better than KFC), cornbread stuffing with turkey gravy, (couldn’t eat it all it was so rich) and because I am in Georgia, I had peach cobbler. It was a great meal.

Ivola’s buffett line

I got on my phone and looked for hotels with parking garages in Savannah, but there was only one -Hilton or Hyatt or Hellovalot, I don’t remember which but I know I couldn’t afford it. So I thought the next best thing would be to camp in some woods. I drove to Skidaway Island State Park(outside Savannah) and it was spectacular—it was also full.

Tufted Titmouse bathing on Skidaway

Skidaway Island State Park

I ended up at La Quinta in Savannah. I was given the handicap accessible room and the parking that went with it. Good thing, because the other parking spaces were so small that I wouldn’t have been able to open the car door far enough to get out my Yeti. I do not leave my little Golden Goose in the car.

Next door at the hotel was an older black woman standing outside her room smoking. She was watching me as I unloaded the car.  She had her young granddaughters with her in the hotel, and I had the impression that she was raising them. They were pretty little girls, each with rows of beaded braids. I’m guessing Gramma did that.

We started chatting and she told me I was a brave woman to be traveling across country alone.  She said she’s afraid to go to the mall alone.

I personally do not have the courage to raise two more children.  She’s fearless, in my book.

I took a very long shower—washed off all the DEET. Watched the Blazers lose to Houston. Brian had told me how hot they’ve been playing, but I haven’t had the chance to see a game. Finally do, and they blew it. Still…I wasn’t killed by a tornado.

Today was a diamond.