As I’ve mentioned too many times already, we just moved from Atlanta back to North Carolina, where both Tom and I are from.
I was going through my phone pictures and I found two little examples of things I’ll miss from our time in Georgia.
The first is from the Japanese restaurant near our house. There’s a mural with lots of rabbits and anthropomorphic vegetables. My favorite part of the mural is this:
In all the fun and laughter amongst the rabbits and the vegetables (ok, yes tomatoes are a fruit), one rabbit seems to have gotten a little carried away in her enthusiasm, and this is clearly upsetting to the tomato she’s so happily rough housing. Maybe I like it so much because that’s how I felt in Atlanta – just a little tomato being jostled around by an over-active rabbit. Yeah, I got deep and metaphorical there for a second. Please know that I did not actually like it because that’s how I felt in Atlanta – I like it because a tomato is being man handled by a rabbit, so there’s no need to delve deeper to see why it’s so awesome to me.
The other image on my phone was of a run-down mansion that looks like it was built in the 1980s. We would pass it on our way to the movie theater that plays retro movies, also often from the 1980s. The house is a pastel peach, and I can just imagine all sorts of 80s douche bags dressed Miami Vice-style, having big parties and thinking it would last forever. And it sort of did, because nobody has changed that house since its heyday. This too could be seen as a monument to my time in Atlanta – arriving with the best of intentions and then slowly feeling the need for a change but continuing to stay the same. But, HA, no. We didn’t move to Atlanta intending to stay. Nope, I liked passing by this house because it stuck out like a sore thumb, reminded me of the 80s, and was on the way to watching old movies on the big screen.
Then came the pictures from the short two weeks we’ve been back. This past weekend we went to a small family reunion, held in my father’s small hometown, where my grandmother lived until she died. My grandparents owned a farm. My dad hated helping out on the farm because he was allergic to everything involving farms (which he so lovingly passed on to me). So, when the time came, my dad sold his share of the farm to my uncle, who is more enamored with farm land and farm-related activities.
So, while I love this town, and have many wonderful memories of spending time on the farm, I don’t actually know much about the ins and outs of farming. As a child I did more “look, I’m on a tractor!” novelty tractor rides than finding out exactly what tractors can actually do. I was also more, “hey look, there are peanuts everywhere and I can have some!” than actually understanding how the peanuts got there.
As we made our way to the farm, we ended up behind this thing. It looked like someone took a bunch of other things and made this one thing. It also looked like perhaps we would find an alien driving it if we looked close enough. I can deduce that the giant old-timey looking wheels are to go down the row of crops, and that the tank on top (you can’t see it from this angle), sprays stuff, but as to what it’s actually called, and what it really does – dunno. But, still, there’s a part of me that sees something like this and it feels right. I may be allergic to farms, but it’s still there in my genes somewhere.
We passed the contraption (after contemplating driving under it just to see if we could fit) and continued on toward our destination. I haven’t been back to this town in years. Living in Georgia meant there wasn’t a lot of time to visit anywhere other than where my mom and sister live. So when we finally hit the street we were looking for, there stood the image that trumps all man-handled tomatoes and coke-filled pastel 80s mansions:
My family’s road. On my family’s farm. A lovely reminder of where my father came from and, by extension, where I came from. And while my dad isn’t here anymore, and my grandma is gone, too, the road bearing their last name is still here, and I can visit it any time I want. And that’s what being back home means to me.
That, and free food from my mom’s house, but mostly that.
———————————————————–
I love the fact that I know so much more about you from this post. Don’t worry–not in a stalker way–but that I have a better of idea of where you’ve come from and where you’re going.
Loved it…and that cartoon.
Thanks, Abby. I don’t mind if you stalk me, I know you’d be respectful and on-time, which is important to me.
If it means anything, I learned more about you in a stalker way.
Granted, I did briefly reconsider when I got to the farm part, but that’s only because my relatives are from Saskatchewan and their incessant yammering about the price of John Deere tractors makes my ears bored.
But knowing that you spent more time riding a tractor than discussing it’s features makes me confident in my choice of victims.
I’m relieved. Who posts a picture of a specific street sign and doesn’t hope to get stalked?
Just FYI, if you kill me with a tractor part thinking it will bind us forever in the afterlife, you’ll need to point it out because I won’t recognize it.
It’s good to always remember where we came from. And what an honour to have a road named after you, right?!
Yeah, when I was told about the road when I was a kid it made me feel like royalty. Small town farm royalty, but still.
What a lovely post! I’m happy to hear you guys made it through your move!!
Now I’m homesick.
Thanks, Vesta. I’m glad your eyeballs could read it!
Hahah… there’s a little tomato-getting-jostled-by-a-rabbit in all of us, methinks.
Sometimes we’re the tomato, sometimes we’re the rabbit – it’s what life is all about.
Ah I love North Carolina. Mostly the outer banks but it just seems so middle of the road temperature wise when my Maryland/NJ gets cold and FL is too hot. Of course, the way this global warming is going, I might have to move to Maine in the end.
LOVE the rabbit and tomato.
Yeah, the summers are about as brutal as Atlanta. We beach at Emerald Isle, which is a nice mostly quiet beach.
How nice to be able to visit a part of your heritage! It’s great to know where your forebears came from, and still feel a connection.
It certainly helps to have my last name on a sign – a very obvious connection! 🙂
Okay, I never comment, because I usually read on my phone, but for once I’m not. So I’m going to cheat and say I LOVE the SuperFriends posts. Love them so hard. I love that I can laugh at the stupidity and not have to actually suffer through the show. I feel like you’re doing a public service. So thank you.
Naturally, I also love the photos you shared here, plus the introspective-but-not-really commentary.
Hope the transition continues to provide good blog fodder, and that you get lots of free food from your mom. 🙂
Thank you, Jane! I love hearing that people like the Super Friends posts – it keeps me going during the darkest of crappy episodes.
Is it a peanut farm? If not, I too would like to know how all the peanuts got there.
Wow, that’s a really good question. I just kind of assumed it was a peanut farm. My mind is blown.
I’ve been eaves-blogging for a while and love your blog. Welcome back to NC!
Thank you, Lisa!
I love cell phone pictures. Really. I think I have a thing for them, and I’m pretty sure it’s because I love the candidness.
I enjoyed reading your post!
Dawn
(Swinging by from the Competitive Grid)
Thanks, Dawn! Cell phone cameras are a blogger’s dream.
I have a prkect in North Carolina right now so Im traveling to and from quite often. I like the mountains to the west and the beaches/shore to the east.
Like Abby said, you dont give us a lot of Carrie the personal. I like this post a lot for the insight into you.
sorry i wasnt funny
That’s ok, I forgive you, Lance.
One of the best homecoming stories I’ve read in a while.
So is your husband intimidated now that you’re back on your home turf where there’s a freakin road named after you?
Thanks, Guapo!
Nah. I’d say the fact that he has the stomach flu right now and I don’t makes me far more intimidating than the road.
Taking a bunch of other things and making this one thing . . . that’s pretty much the theory of how I blog. Just throw a bunch of things together and call it a day!
You have a street named for you. You are so totally famous. I feel as if I am in the presence of greatness. Shall I bow? Or curtsy?
Yeah, that’s how I blog, too!
I think I’d rather people greet me by doing the running man.
I knew the first time I visited you that we had things in common – being nerds who like Nerds, and all. and now…
1. I moved from my home of 11+ years towards family/the family homestead.
2. I just attended and wrote about (photographed) a family reunion.
I’d be worried we may be the same person, but I just read you’re from Iowa and I know I’ve never been there.
The rabbit looks like he’s about to munch on the tomato!
So, so juicy.