Feed & Seed

I love old Feed-n-Seed stores.

They are the epitome of times gone by to me.

I used to go to them all the time with my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather.

I've taken my kids to them.

I got out of the habit of seeking them out for a few years, until I stumbled into one while looking for some way to emergently repair a frost-proof faucet (not many of those around in suburbia where I grew up). That was when it hit me.

Memories flooded back and time nearly stood still.

The leaky faucet would be OK for another 45 minutes or so while I sat down and learned the answer to my problem (and how to fix the faucet).

I love the smells of fertilizer, chicken feed, potting soil, and countless bins of old stuff jumbled together. Mix those with hardwood floors and screen doors with jingly little bells welcoming you into a place that isn't in a rush to get anywhere; where the proprietor can help you figure out a solution to just about any problem at the house, in the field, with an animal, or in the barn; a place where the nexus is a couple of rocking chairs loosely surrounding a wood or oil-burning stove smack-dab in the middle of the place, and it's just about as nice a place to be as any other that crosses my mind.

Sure, some of the newer places have concrete floors, at least in parts. And that's fine, but concrete is a sight harder to stand and walk on all day than 60 yr old hardwood floors covered in a fine layer of peanut shells, dust, and tobacco stains. Concrete just doesn't give off the same smell, or echo with the noise of generations of farmers and country-folks hangin' around jawin' about the leaky roof or that blamed tractor or tellin' stories about bird dogs and horses. Those wide-plank floors have stories carved into them that most folks'll never hear. It's too bad too, cause more folks could stand to hear some of those old stories.

The places with all those lovely traits seem always seem to have folks present who realize that there is a value in appreciating people and a slower style of life - one where hard work is very much appreciated but hard play and quiet moments are equally enjoyable.

I seek them out.

In my hometown.

In my travels.

In my dreams.

I long to walk back into the little store in Pelham where we'd get an Pepsi and salted peanuts.

I really miss Tab's in Laurens where an RC Cola and a Moon Pie were the treat of the day after a long jaunt through miles of fields.

Even the bird dog was welcome in there.

And they had a hitchin' post out front for your horse if you decided to get there by non-mechanical means.

I discovered one in Jefferson, GA a couple of weeks ago that was absolutely fantastic. Streamside place with two levels and a hangar-style roof. It was wonderfully aromatic - like my great-grandfather's barn. I asked where the straw was stored and he told me downstairs and showed me the freight elevator, the floor half-covered in stalks of gold.

I just came in to stretch my legs and visually pore over the rows of plumbing pieces, tractor parts, and storm windows while really just treasuring the fact that there were three fellas just hangin' around wondering what the heck I was there for, but satisfied by my answer of to "Can we help you?"

I told them I was just stopping in for a few minutes of joy.

End of the Homeschool year trip

That Tuesday was a very long day.

But, it was so worth it.

I left the house around 0630 (semi-typical) to head to the office for about a half-day. When I blew the doors off the place leaving @ 1300 hrs I knew I was so going to pay for it on Wednesday.

The boys love baseball. I'll repeat that for you. The boys LOVE baseball!

Almost as much as their mother does.

Our daughter - she could care less. She got to stay with grandparents & hang out with cousins.

We took them to Turner Field for the first game of the Braves vs. Cubs series in Atlanta this week. It was their first major league game.

We avoided the typical traffic jam associated with Atlanta until we got the I-75 downtown. It took us about 30 minutes to travel the last 6 miles or so to the park. Not bad considering I've sat in traffic for 3+ hrs waiting to get past Spaghetti Junction.

We parked (Green Lot - Chevron family value pack - pretty decent deal) and walked into see batting practice and find out just how high our nosebleed seats really were (section 402, R15) - way the heck up there, but not bad seats for poor, cheap SC folks, only one of whom is a Braves fan (certainly not me or the boys). Then it was time to wander and see the sights that bring thousands of people to their financial knees on a regular basis. I can't imagine the time, money, and energy it would take to attend all the home games.

Beer = $6 (and there were lots of folks walking around with 6-10 empty cups!); Hot dog = $4.50; Coke = $4.50; ad infinitum.

Pro Batter; Pro Batter Jr.; Braves Museum; Golden Moon Casino (entire level of box seats where the Miller High Life guys would have way too much work to do); and a host of other places to spend lots of time and money.

It was a pretty good game, from pretty good seats. We figured after the end of the 8th inning it would be wise to head down to left field and watch the 9th from the railings so we could get to the gates before the mad dash to the parking lot and crazy Atlanta traffic. The Braves had other ideas, much to my youngest son's chagrin.

He's a Cubs fan.

The game went to 12 innings and we stayed for the entire thing.

0500 Tuesday until 0138 Wednesday makes for a very long day.

0600 Wednesday makes for a very sleepy day as well.

I took a nap when I got home that afternoon.

BTW, the Cubs lost in the bottom of the 12th.

My wife is thinking about taking the youngest boy back to Atlanta this week for another Braves vs. Cubs game.

I'm staying home.

And sleeping.