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| Home away from home in Gainesville, Georgia—the "Blue Bungalow" |
But then...poor Mr. Moose. A few weeks ago, our cat, Moose, came down with
pancreatitis (see
"Mr. Moose," November 7, 2025), which was pretty serious, but he's come through it all reasonably well.
Regardless, Kimberly did not feel that she could go away with him still
needing medication and a strictly regulated feeding schedule. So, since plans
had already been engraved in some pretty heavy stone, with Ms. B.'s blessing,
I decided to make the pilgrimage myself, as I have on several previous
occasions. I'm very sad that Ms. B. couldn't make it because I know she would
have had a hell of a good time, but so much of my fondness for coming to
Georgia hearkens back to
my long personal history here.
So, this week, I'm making some more personal history.
Wednesday, November 19, 2025
For the first time in decades, I made the trip to Gainesville without any
major traffic and/or construction woes. Make no mistake, the interstate was
wall-to-wall traffic, but with nary a single significant slowdown along the
way (although the plethora of relatively new traffic lights on US 129 between
I-85 and Gainesville are enough to make the Pope say "Goddamn!"). It was about
a seven-hour drive, counting a 20-minute lunch and several pee and geocaching
stops. In Gaffney, South Carolina, there's a big water tower in the shape of a
peach (called the Peachoid), which I've passed countless times since I
was a kid, but a couple of newish caches there—one a virtual and one a
traditional—led me to visit it for the first time ever. It's kind of a cool
landmark.
I rolled into Gainesville about 3:15 p.m. and settled in at the
AirBnB we had reserved
(it's called the "Blue Bungalow"). Since Ms. B. isn't here, it's more than
plenty spacious. It's located in a very familiar area, only a couple of blocks
from where my grandparents lived. A few of my other relatives lived nearby as
well. Also, my mom went to elementary school right around the corner from
here; the site is still a school, though it's a much newer building than in
her day.
Since it's only about a mile to downtown from the B&B, I set out on foot
to hunt down dinner. I was not surprised to find myself making a slight detour
to walk past my grandparents' old place. On a previous trip, I met the current
owners, which was very pleasant, but they did not appear to be at home this
evening. Before I even left Martinsville, I had already decided to seek dinner
at Bourbon Brothers Smokehouse & Tavern, just off the town square, and this proved to be an excellent choice. I had
a brisket sandwich with fries and a Buffalo Trace Old Fashioned, both of which
about made me stand up and holler. I didn't, but I almost did.
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| Hell yeah, brisket... |
After I was done, I wandered around the square a little, as it looked to be
hopping. Even since my two visits here in 2022, there are tons of new shops
and dining/drinking establishments, and I expect I'll be sampling a few of
them before I head out on Sunday. Again, it really is a pity that Brugger
isn't here because she I know she would go ga-ga over a bunch of these places.
By the time I hoofed it back to the Bungalow, it was well after dark. I still
needed a few provisions, so I drove to the nearby
Publix
supermarket and stocked up on some goodies. I worked on this blog for a bit,
and then...crashing time. Sitting in a car most of the day is always
exhausting.
Tomorrow, I plan to have lunch with Mr. Butts, and on Friday, I'll be heading
to Atlanta to visit with the Hinchbergers. For tonight, I are done.
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| Evening falls on Gainesville's town square |
Thursday, November 20, 2025
I woke up pretty early, made eggs for breakfast, and, once I got going, set
out after some geocaches in the area. Most of these were of the simple park
& grab variety, though a couple were innovative and unique. At 11:30
a.m., I rolled over to
El Sombrero Mexican Restaurant, near the University of North Georgia, where Mr.
Leverett Butts works (though he was off today), and met him for an
excellent lunch. We carried on extensively about our writing
adventures; Dark Shadows; monsters of all sorts, including, cats; and other such apt topics for a
couple of scary writers. I mean, as in writers of scary things. Of course
that's what I mean.
After we parted company, I hunted several more geocaches and found all but
one. Actually, I'm pretty sure I found the cache container, but there was
trick to opening it that I couldn't figure out from cache page description
(late addendum: no, that was not the cache, for the cache owner wrote
to give me a clue what to look for). I made another stop for a few extra
supplies, and then I returned to the Blue Bungalow, where I caught up on some
correspondence, blogged, and worked on my current novel. I decided that,
rather than go out and eat again, I'd tear into some of the handy-dandy
provisions I had picked up for just such a purpose. And since I'm venturing
toward Atlanta tomorrow to have a first-class lunch with Dave and LeeAnn
Hinchberger, I'm sure I shan't starve on this trip.
Then, rather than wandering down to the bustle and lights of the square again,
I decided to take a long, mostly peaceful walk around my old stomping grounds.
(The only non-peaceful part was crossing Green Street, both coming and going.
It's one of the busiest roads anywhere, so getting from one side to the other
is like playing Frogger. I got a couple of honks, but I survived.) One of my
destinations was the nearby Ivy Terrace Park, where I spent tons of time and
energy as a kid. In my teen years, when we'd come to visit my grandparents,
Dad would strap our bicycles to the top of the station wagon, so when we got
here, my brother and I went wild on them—frequently in the park. The city has
installed lights along the trails, which are very pretty, but I don't think
it's as much fun as wandering around there in the dark, like we used to.
I've posted pictures of it before, but here it is again (below). There's a
little stone spring house in the park that's been there since my mom was a
kid, and it looks just the same as it did when I was a young'un. I seem to
recall finding a snake in there once.
It was kind of nice seeing many of the houses already decorated for Christmas.
This really brings back so many wonderful ghosts of Christmas past, since I
spent every Christmas from my very first year of life up through my late
twenties at my Grandparents' place here in Gainesville.
That is gonna be it for my ramblings this evening. Tomorrow, I'll be up pretty
early to head to Atlanta.
Friday, November 21, 2025
I had a feeling that the absence of traffic ills on the way from Martinsville
to Gainesville was too good to last. The traffic woes between Gainesville and
Atlanta today were damn near enough to put me off Atlanta. I've spent
countless good times there over the past six-plus decades, and being there
today was just something I really wanted—and kind of needed—to do. But on my
way in, the last twenty miles on I-85 were a hellish, creeping horror. Then,
when I left, it was a hellish, creeping horror for thirty-some miles
outbound—the worst part being that the massive jams extended to every
secondary road, back road, and residential road for miles and miles around. I
know this because I left the interstate to travel them. It was a long,
beyond-frustrating drive back to the Blue Bungalow, exacerbated by the fact
that, by the time I hit the Gainesville city limits, I really had to pee.
Yeah, the photo to the left is of a random Atlanta building near where I was geocaching. It's the only photo I took in the city, except for a selfie of Dave, LeeAnn, and me, below:
Yeah, the photo to the left is of a random Atlanta building near where I was geocaching. It's the only photo I took in the city, except for a selfie of Dave, LeeAnn, and me, below:
Originally, I had planned to meet Dave and LeeAnn at the
Steamhouse Lounge at 11:30 a.m. However, they had some stuff come up and moved the
meeting time to 1:00 p.m. As it turned out, it's a good thing I set out early,
since it took so damned long to get into the city. I still had time
hunt a couple of geocaches, which was fun. Then, given the traffic situation,
they were held up until past 1:30. I had parked my car in a nearby garage, and
my space expired at 2:45. Since I wasn't in a position to get back there and
add time to the total, we ended up having a relatively quick lunch. Still, I
consider this some much-valued time together. Hopefully, wherever and whenever
we gather again, Brugger will be able to make it.
Once finally back at my lodgings, I decided to shower, have a scotch, work on
my blog, and listen to some 1960s lounge music. Hey, if I'm gonna be a
bachelor here, I'm gonna go all at it. I ordered some sushi for dinner from
Dynamite Sushi, Steak, & Grill and had it delivered by DoorDash, which I haven't done in
forever. It was some right good dead fish, not to mention healthier than that
delicious fried catfish and french fries I killed at lunch.
All in all, it would have been an altogether pleasant day in the
city—geocaching, seeing good friends, and having an excellent lunch—if not for
the round trip taking about three times longer than under less hellish traffic
conditions.
I am a just about worn-out old dude, so I'm chilling for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow, it's more visiting, this time with my cousin, Mark. I expect I'll fit in some more caching for my last full day in town. And I'm pretty sure I'm gonna darken the doors of Southern Recess Gastropub, which has long been among my favorite dining establishments anywhere.
I am a just about worn-out old dude, so I'm chilling for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow, it's more visiting, this time with my cousin, Mark. I expect I'll fit in some more caching for my last full day in town. And I'm pretty sure I'm gonna darken the doors of Southern Recess Gastropub, which has long been among my favorite dining establishments anywhere.
And thus, till laters.
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| Damned Rodan, Lounge Lizard |
Saturday, November 22, 2025
This morning, I went over to visit my cousin, Mark Bell, and his wife, Sylvia,
which was indeed a lovely time. They (and their children, who are about my
age) are damn near my last living relatives on my mom's side. They have a very
nice house not very far from here, and as it turns out, their son Robert knows
the owner of this AirBnB, as they worked together for many years. Interesting
how such connections randomly come about. I didn't think to take any photos
this morning, but the photo below is Mark & Sylvia from 2013 (they hardly
look any different!), when Kimberly, Mom, and I came to Gainesville, primarily
so that Mom could attend her 60th high school class reunion.
For the afternoon, I braved the insanity of Gainesville's congested roads
(shudder), and went geocaching for a couple of hours. It was pretty enjoyable,
as I found all those that I hunted, including the one I did not find the other
day. It turned out to be one of my favorite hide types.
Once back at the Blue Bungalow, I made myself clean and reasonably purty, and
then walked downtown, where there was some variety of Christmas festival
coming together. (I understand it's called "Jingle Mingle," and one of the
highlights is lighting up a big-ass chicken sculpture on the city
administration building; since way back when, Gainesville has been known as
"The Poultry Capital of the World." I can attest to this by way of having
suffered the reek of chicken processing plants around here on perhaps a few
too many occasions in the past.). Tons of folks were migrating to the square,
which was decorated for the occasion. My specific target was
North Georgia BBQ & Oyster Shop, which I had settled on for dinner instead of Southern Recess, since I had
never tried the former—and I love both BBQ and oysters. It was a good choice.
I had a half-dozen raw oysters on the half shell, which were DAMNED delicious,
with all kinds of sauce and seasonings, and some hot & spicy smoked
chicken wings (they came with a large pile of celery and carrots, so at least
I did get some veggies with this feast). Brugger and I are gonna plan to come
back to Gainesville soon, and I know she'll go for the BBQ, though not the
oysters. Leave that to me!
Afterward, I decided to try out a relatively new wine bar called
Cork It, right there on the square. I tried a Washington Cabernet Sauvingnon, which
was quite good. They had a small orchestra warming up to play Christmas music,
but I didn't hang around long enough to give them a listen. Of all my
discoveries in Gainesville on this trip, Cork It will be the one that Brugger
will be most inclined to visit.
On my walk back from downtown, I snapped a few photos of some of the houses in
the area, as they are among those that remain from the days of my youth. They
include my grandparents' house, my great uncle & aunt's house, and a
fair-sized mansion at Green Street & Forrest Ave, which I always loved.
Back in the 1980s, when I was regularly doing pen & ink artwork, I drew
all of these houses. Below, I'm posting the recent photos of those houses and
my old pen & ink renderings of them.
Although the traffic and the rampant development here does not please me, as
in not at all, Gainesville still feels like my second home, especially since I've
renewed a great relationship with my cousin Mark and his wife, Sylvia. Being
here brings home the fact that I am the last of my immediate family, and my
brain is literally the last existing repository of intimate, personal
knowledge of my parents, my brother, my grandparents, and other relatives. And
so, on these personal blogs, I am inclined to write all the details I can, so
that at least some of my most meaningful recollections will perhaps survive me
in some fashion.
Tomorrow, I'm off for home, probably pretty early. Despite a couple of
niggling physical issues that made functioning normally a bit harder than I
like, not to mention the billions of metric tonnes of human beings stuffed
into too small an area, I absolutely hope to continue returning to Gainesville
for as long as I am able.
Arrivederci, America.
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| Above: my grandparents' old place on Forrest Avenue as it appears currently, and my drawing of it from the 1980s |
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| Above: my great uncle & aunt's former house on Park Street and my pen & ink rendering from 1980s; the only copy I have of this is a 3" x 5" postcard reproduction, so it's not as well-defined as the original. |
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| Above: one of the classic Gainesville mansions on Green Street, taken today, and my pen & ink drawing of it from the 1980s |
