Thursday, June 10, 2010

Fine Foods and 3-D Flicks

It was nice to get away from the garden and go to the big city. It’s no secret that my sense of adventure is greater than that of my man.I suspect that’s because his life was serene and settled as a child and more hectic than he wanted it to be for most of his adult life. He really likes the rhythm of retirement.

Richard yearns for the intimacy of small-town relationships and the soothing sounds of tractors, trucks, and power tools as they help us in our work. I long for the laughter, the song and the hustle and bustle of the city. I also love the anonymity of the crowds, where missteps are hardly noticed and one can reinvent oneself without paying the price of long-remembered wrongs passed from one family member and one generation to another.

Grocery stores and restaurants generally reflect the culture of their area. We can hardly find ethnic ingredients other than a few Americanized Italian, Mexican, and Chinese items within two hours of Coker Creek. It’s important to me that we regularly shop in more ethnic areas. Richard is quite a movie buff with a special preference for 3-D; the closest 3-D theatres are all two hours away in three different directions.

We usually choose to shop and play in Atlanta because we have family and friends there. Atlanta is much too busy for Richard’s comfort, and it’s really too large for mine, but they do have any foods you want and the movie theatres are many. Richard can also get world-class post-transplant care for his nearly-new heart from the teaching hospitals in this huge metropolis.

At Holly’s house we have our own personal chef who does the shopping and the cooking better than any area restaurant. How many people can say that their chef also cooks for heads of state on a regular basis? After Richard’s appointments with his doctors, we take in movies; Schrek is even funnier in 3-D. We head home in plenty of time to enjoy the scenery on our drive home, and to see the sun set behind the hills in our holler.

Richard is fond of saying that there’s nothing scarier than too much freedom. It is true that having less choices in everything can soothe the soul, but with too little stimulation of the spirit I feel a bit dead. It seems that everyone we encounter here calls themselves Christian, and most are white, Anglo-Saxon, and Protestant.

We’re such an insular community that I’m afraid any of my missteps will come back to haunt me for many generations. I don’t think most people here really know what to make of a crazy Cajun Catholic. Richard says that I’m like hot sauce; sometimes it burns, but he likes it anyway. This is not generally a group that likes a lot of spice. I have to get away sometimes to let my “wild child” out to play.