It’s 88 degrees here in the pool house, and sweaty 4-and-a-half-year-old Evelyn’s body isn’t registering the ridiculousness of her words when she cries, “It’s so cold in here.” It’s not. I’m hot; everyone’s hot, especially the heavy-panting Archie dog. A successful day in South Georgia was had by all.
Finding a rhythm in the too-hot and humid air and the icy blast of air conditioning is a phenomenon I’m observing. An hour to two hours inside and an hour outside. Inside meant watching homemade jams being made, like strawberry fig and peach jalapeño, along with cheering on the USA men’s basketball team who took gold. Outside, I got a glimpse of my future, harvesting banana peppers, wildflowers, and acorn squash, along with plenty of porch sitting. I still haven’t met Bubba, who drove by in his new police car and proudly honked the horn.
With the slow-paced road, añI’m a proponent of a little vegetable stand for the kids to sell their harvest and where I can linger, meeting local people. I’m already somewhat plugged in, knowing fifteen people on the passthrough road we live on, but knowing more can’t hurt, can it?
The future is full of big dreams and visions close to reach. I hope you’re here for them.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 