A Rainy Night in Georgia

The weatherfolk were predicting a “wintry mix”–aka sleety slush for Atlanta when I set out early afternoon for Savannah. When I got to Macon, I figured the weather stuff was for real, becuz, besides the nasty rain, I was following four DOT sand-trucks. But I made it down here by dusk, which was my plan. I’m staying at another of the wonderful Mermaid Cottages. This one is called Cheney Cottage, and it’s new to me, altho it was built in 1936. As always, this one is adorable. Nothing fancy, but bright, beachy colors, comfy beds, scrupulously clean and cheerful. And wireless access! The older I get, the more I realize what a creature of habit I’ve become. After I unloaded my suitcase, I made a beeline to the Tybee Market. There I bought what I always buy for a winter stay at Tybee. Spaghetti fixings, a big bottle of cheap chardonnay, Diet Coke, cereal, milk and bananas. The weather is perfect for writing. I can hear the rain beating against the windows, hear the wind whipping around, even the ocean–which is only four houses away here. Inside I am toasty and warm. After my nap–after all–a girl needs a nap after a four-hour-drive–I did what I always did when I stay in a new rental. I skipped around, opening all the cupboards and drawers, assessing the owner’s taste in kitchen gear, dishes, and most importantly, reading materials. Since this house is a rental I didn’t expect much in the way of personal effects. Still, I always get a thrill when the owners leave out a family picture, or some well-loved books. The books were kind of a let-down, heavy on the James Patterson and Catherine Coulter. Ah well, their house is very cute. The dishes are plain white melamine. But plenty of wine glasses, which is always a plus. I always hate drinking my cheap wine out of equally cheap plastic tumblers. And they had a stash of green Jadeite coffee mugs–major score! I’ll have my tea from one in the morning. Right now, I’m going to go wash up my dinner dish, pour another glass of wine, and prop myself up in bed with my laptop. Writing like this–alone, with the weather raging outside, is pure bliss!