Saturday Stuff

It’s Saturday morning and the early morning fog has burned off. I should know; I met that morning early.

I still can’t sleep late, and neither can Tallulah. She was meowing at 5:30, and David , up to go for a walk wakes her up, so Keats and I sleepily got out of bed to let Tallulah in the room. Once Tallulah is in the room, there is no rest. Keats and I both braced ourselves for it.

When I open the bedroom door, Tallulah comes in the room like a torpedo -- her target -- the bed. She takes two steps in the door and then one leap to the bed. Tail up, purring like an outboard engine, she messes with every moving thing and pounces on it like a wild animal. If try to lay back down, she comes at every exposed piece of flesh -- she nips and pushes -- and licks my hair. If I push her off, she just detours and comes at both of us a different way.

I have to remind myself all the time -- that in waking hours -- a kitten is awesome -- when you are not so awake -- they are as annoying as a BIG fly.


We’re headed to the mountains today -- Marilyn and John are coming up with their boat. John said, “I’ve always wanted to see Lake Rabun.”

We shall take the boat out on that water and see what the rich people are doing today.

Lake Rabun, Lake Seed, and Lake Burton are tie in together in the northeast Georgia mountains. There is something about the mountains and lake together, a kind of simpatico of beauty not to be gotten just anywhere.

For eighty years, the affluent of Atlanta have skipped out early on Friday to spend the weekend at their “little house” on the lake… and Rabun is good, but apparently Burton is better. I’m not sure what determines that except the price of the real estate.

I’m here to tell you that the idea of “little” house is a thing of the past.

If you cruise the Lake Rabun Road, you see remnants of a time when perhaps the houses there were more rustic. Tucked here and there a long the road are clapboard, or board and batten, or sometimes rock houses of the early years of the lake.

These old getaways are evident as the houses are draped in hemlock and mountain laurel, and the windows and doors are the kind of yesteryear … they have no screens and have to be propped open. Most of these are small -- cabin like --- and outdoor like -- but these are definitely houses of the past. Most look abandoned -- or are up for sale.

Now the majority of the houses on the lake are of the ostentatious kind -- not ugly money, but sometimes “enough” money is evident.

Boathouses on Lake Rabun can be 500,000 dollars --- some of them are three floors, have jet skis tied up around the base bobbling in the water like dolphins, big ski boats, and cabin cruisers all neatly tucked up inside. On top, ten or fifteen deck chairs, complete with umbrella and tables dot the surface -- so that if you are having the whole family up for the weekend -- everyone has a chair -- and I mean, everyone.

The houses have been known to cost upwards of five and ten million dollars. To have a nice weekend, apparently, costs a lot of money. Thankfully, David and I share the same air for a lot less than that….

David and I run into the “lake” people occasionally in town at our favorite haunt, Grapes and Beans. They’re different -- the lake people -- they have a veneer that only folks with lots of money seem to have. It’s a sheen, an indifference, an attitude that money seems to preserve -- we just roll our eyes and note that we can order the same thing at the counter.

Whatever.

Rich people -- I guess we need them --- for something.

Blog off.