In her great book of fears and phobias, What I Hate from A to Z, artist Roz Chast has this wonderful drawing for the fear of being lost.

By strange coincidence it is in fact quite similar to the map of Augusta.    I had a map from Mr. Google that showed me how to reach my hotel.

However, the helpful young man at the car rental agency gave me a different route, which he swore was much easier.  For some unfathomable reason I decided to take his advice, which is how I ended up hopelessly lost in nearby South Carolina.   I did stop at a gas station to try and purchase a map and of course they no longer sell such things.  I am old enough to remember when gas stations gave away free maps, but in those days gas stations only sold gas and oil, with perhaps a vending machine out front.

Then I come back to the ideas held by the medieval mapmakers, if you don’t know what is actually in a location, put in either a snake or a sea monster.   So here are my maps of the area.  First up in honor of getting totally lost is South Carolina.

A kindly policeman showed me how to reach the freeway, otherwise I would be wandering still along nearly identical roads.  Then there is Georgia.

You have to navigate by memory, because the roads change names when they cross another road, and it apparently illegal for a road to go in only one direction.  For example Gibbs Road becomes Cox Rd. , then turns into Owens Rd.  What fun.  But now the way is imprinted in my brain for the next visit.

This holiday has lost most of it’s original meaning: to honor the war dead.   Instead it is seen as a day off work and the official start of summer fun.   I decided this Memorial Day to plug into the traditional.  The old cemetery sponsored an event, so I went down to check it out.  They had re-enactors of the various wars, starting with the original war for independence.

Then there was the frontier regiment honoring a comrade who fought in the Spanish-American War in Cuba.

Then there were guys portraying WWII soldiers.

I did not take a picture of the guys representing the German Army.   One of them explained that the army was not necessarily in favor of Hitler’s policies, but the sight of the swastikas totally creeped me out.

The military sections include both persons who died in combat and persons who served in the military.

The crowd that gathered was interesting, old veterans, currently serving military, young people, bikers, survivors and me.   My father was a combat veteran, and it certainly impacted his life.   It was a beautiful tribute and not just a day of barbecue and beer.  Then I went home and quilted a quilt top made for the Lori Piestewa Center (the first Native American woman killed in Iraq) on the Hopi reservation.

I belong to a service organization.   One the the things that we do is raise money for a children’s cancer treatment center.   The big way that money is raised is by raffling off a house.   Over half of the available (8000) raffle tickets have been sold at $100/ticket.   From now until June 12th, people from the group have to be at the house every weekend, to show off the house.

This is a picture of what the house looks like, but not the actual site.   If you mentally replace the mountains and pine trees with huge power  lines and the grass with rocks and dirt, it would be pretty accurate.    People ooh and aah over the house as they go through it, it is new and shiny.   For $100 one can enjoy the fantasy that this house will be their’s.

I think a lot about houses because I would love to have a house that did not have stairs.   (The above house has 16 stairs between levels, a visitor counted them last week 😉  ).   Which brings me to my dream house.   My sister in law called me about this house and I leapt right into the fantasy.   It has everything I would want in a house, including jillions of stairs.

It comes with a built in jungle, no waiting for one to grow.

A painted ceiling and a gas and electric chandelier.

The dining room sideboard and table are original to the house and match the woodwork.

Does it have a ballroom on the third floor?   Of course.

And a massive stained glass window, a standard feature of this sort of a house.

Alas, this property is doomed to remain a fantasy because reality set in.  It’s too big of a project for us old bats, and of course the sheer size of it, makes it daunting to consider.   (Although everyone I have spoken to thinks the 5 car garage would be great).

When I came back down to earth I realized that I am actually living in my dream home.   I have deer that come and go as they please (no responsibility there).   I have a beautiful view of the mountain from my front door.   And my house is a solidly built custom home, there is not another one just like it.   It was fun to contemplate, but reality is just fine.

Spring comes late here because of the altitude.  But it’s not as bad as in the mountains, they have about a 30 day growing season.  Even within town, things start blooming at different times because of the small differences in elevation.    My lilacs are just starting to bloom.

The plum tree out front has been blooming for a while.

I do get a few wildflowers in the yard.

And the high altitude iris test garden has started to bloom.   It didn’t bloom until much later last year because of the May blizzard.

I love Spring.