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SnowJam2014

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Like many, MANY people in the ATL, I spent a looooooong time--8.5 hours WITHOUT a potty break, which is really like 205 bladder hours--in my car last Tuesday trying to get home in the snow and ice. In that 8.5 hours, which started at 12:45 p.m., I ate a handful of tiny little chocolate candies that I grabbed out of my desk, just in case it took me a couple of hours to get home--because I hadn't had lunch yet. And no water--but that was actually okay, since I had nowhere to pee. Here's the first indication (besides, you know, the fact that I wasn't moving very fast on the interstate and it was snowing) that I wasn't going to get home for a while: Yes, that does say it's going to take 89-91 minutes to go 9 miles. But, it lied. It took me more than three hours. I'm not sure how many minutes that is, but I know it's more than 89-91. Here's my view for most of the ride. Here's the Delk Road exit (the one mentioned on the sign in the first photo

When life is too good for just a smiley face ...

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Smiley belly!

Time travel in Greece

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You cain't sling a dead cat without hitting a really, REALLY old pile of rocks in Greece -- something that continues to amaze this Atlanta resident. Where I come from, old is the late the 1800s. If something from before THE war (you know the one I mean) exists, it's ancient. We just don't have a lot of old sh*t laying around. But, in Crete, you get such an appreciation for old, and for history, and for living with your past (we still tear a lot of old stuff down around here). Not to mention a sense of wonder for how anything Greek still survives, given a history that includes conquering and occupation by the Romans, the Venetians, the Turks, the Germans. The list seems endless. We think America is a melting pot, but you want to see a melting pot that stretches back centuries, go to Greece. Spend a week in Crete for a journey that will take you back thousands of years -- and that doesn't even include the Homo Sapiens Museum. When you land in Iraklion, it's the l

There goes the neighborhood!

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One of our new across-the-street neighbors--a family of four. You reckon our property values will go up if we talk about the wonders of free-range, fresh goat cheese right here in the 'hood?

6 parenting tips for the new royal parents

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While the new royal baby, George Alexander Louis, has an awful lot going for him--a mouthful of name, money and his pick of fabulous castles to call home--his new parents may need some parenting tips, and I'm not sure they have the best role models to turn to. In case they want to swim outside the Royal Gene Pool for parenting help, I'd like to offer up these tips from my dad, who's been a parenting King for longer than I can remember! 1. Love unconditionally. Dad loves cars a lot. This was brought home to me when in the months following me getting my driver's license I hit everything in sight--and many things that were out of sight--poles, the garage, an MG convertible driven by a nasty man in a mustard-colored suit smoking a huge, smelly cigar. And as hard as it was to call Dad and tell him I'd hit something else, it was never because I thought he'd stop loving me. Keep this in mind when little George throws the royal crest, just to see if it will break

Around-the-world architecture tour ...

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... in 37 minutes or less! This has been the summer of colossal, all-encompassing museum experiences. First up, was the ENTIRE HISTORY of mankind (not WOMANKIND, NO, NO, NO) in 45 minutes or less. Now, I've seen ALL the marvels of architecture -- from the Great Wall of China to St. Peter's Cathedral -- without leaving Cullman, Alabama. Ave Maria Rock Grotto at St. Bernard Abbey , "the only Benedictine monastery of men in Alabama" (If you'd have asked me, I'd have said there were NO Benedictine monasteries in Alabama, of men or women or even armadillos. How did they get past the Baptists?) "consists of 125 small stone and cement structures, the handiwork of creative genius (or obsessive fruitcake) Brother Joseph Zoetl, a monk at the abbey for almost 70 years." The quote is from the flyer you get when you visit the Grotto--expect for the parenthetical comments. Those are mine. And it pretty much sums up the works, but it does nothing to captur

The end of the convertible era?

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After 15 years, I traded my 17-year-old Mustang convertible this week for the more grown up, fuel-efficient (boring) car sitting beside her. It was a tough decision. I loved that Mustang, but her parts were going bad and dropping off. It was time to put her out to pasture. This is my baby being towed in the spring--just the first of several times this year she had to visit the garage in an ambulance. She was ready to relax, get out of traffic, have a nice cold quart of oil on the veranda. Funny how she got so old and I didn't! :) She carried small, squealing children, who now at 6 feet+, have literally outgrown her. She carried saxes and costumery and dogs and beach chairs. And she carried me; offering a ride home in the open air after a long day in a cube filled with artificial ligh Enjoy your rest, old girl! And thanks for 15 years of joy.