Alina's Adventures

Two days and nights in Covington, Georgia.

Leather chaps for sale.

My in-laws kept the kids while the King and I escaped to a bed and breakfast in Covington, Georgia. Upon our arrival in this charming small town, we were greeted by loud, incessant revving-up of a biker rally in the square. I considered a pair of leather chaps but decided in favor of a blueberry muffin instead. 

Alas, the King could not find a ring in my size.

Wandering back towards the spaceship we witnessed what could only be described as flash mob happening, possibly organized by a coalition of missionaries and Bikers For Jesus. They did a really good job of looking angry and confrontational. Such a good job that I wanted to get away quick before scene went Hamlet.

We checked in to Twelve Oaks, the home that inspired "Twelve Oaks" in the Gone With The Wind film. To show how clueless I can be about all things Scarlett O'Hara, it was the Eldest who made the connection and informed me there was a "Twelve Oaks" in the book by Margaret Mitchell. I looked it up and sure enough-- he was correct. He's never seen the film and I wondering if he's ready to watch it and apply his critical thinking skills against the romantic portrayal of southern antebellum life.

A sitting area in the common area on the third floor.

The common area.

The King found a fridge in the common area where he could leave a bottle of pinot for proper cooling.

Our luxurious Suite Home Alabama bed.

On the first night, we stayed in the Suite Home Alabama on the uppermost floor. 

Surveying the writing desk in suite.

It was indescribably relaxing to sit down and write without looking over my shoulder to make sure little ones were doing their assignments or playing safely. To do nothing but let the pen run across the page. There are times when the tension rises between who can run free- words or children- for both require my eyes, my watch, my time. Usually, I choose free children. But it was wonderful to free the words without having to make a choice.

I love the light in the bathroom.

And of course there is nothing like lounging around in a bathrobe that feels like a down comforter. I brushed my teeth at all the recommended hours- a rarity for me.

Breakfast table waits.

Breakfast was delicious: fresh eggs and bacon with home-made strawberry pancakes and whipped cream infused with bourbon and vanilla. The food was wonderful but sitting at a table with friendly strangers was even better. Guests from Portland, California, DC, Germany, and more shared our backgrounds- and our reasons for being here- and wound up leaving the table at 11, two hours after breakfast began.

The sitting area where wine and cheese were served at 5 pm.

Lichen patterns on gravestones..

I was reminded again of how enchanting people can be if you have the time to hear their stories. And I had all the time in the world.

Bankers wear very shiny shoes.

The King had to attend a work-related conference in downtown Atlanta so I had the day to myself. As he shined his shoes, I was reminded how fortunate I am to no longer worry about "work clothes" and business attire and hairstyles- he does the part neither of us particularly admires. It is a birthday gift he gives me every day of our lives in common.

A beautiful and rather serious iris.

I borrowed an umbrella and spent hours walking in the rain without worrying about oncoming traffic and frothy children always tippling, close to spilling into busy streets.

I came across a back alley that led into a large and very old cemetery, so I found a few bricks and sat down to scribble for a spell.

The King is all business in the morning.

Around lunch, I returned to move our luggage into The Salvatore Brothers' Study. Then stole the handful of sunshine hours to sit on a blanket in the backyard and read Robert Musil's journals.

A little chandelier hanging from a trellis in the Twelve Oaks backyard.

Little purple flowers opened their faces towards the sun.

When I brought the King back for a sunset cemetery stroll, the little purple flowers had closed their faces. We are vulnerable to light and dark, wind and rain. Our plant friends have needs as well.

Lo and behold, we stumbled across a house with a Hollywood style marker out front. I felt insufficient for having no idea about "The Vampire Diaries"- what are they and what is the show about?

More beautiful flowers along the way.

Surreptitious daydreams while homeschooling.

While the kids work on their journals, I admire the sunlight and find myself captivated by the conversations of recently-read authors in my head. The motif is a combination of Ellis Island and Atlanta, Georgia, though I don't have any particular story I'm trying to tell about either. 

 The extraordinary grandchildren portrait

SAUL BELLOW: "Though everybody wished to be an American, everybody's secret was that he hadn't suceeded in becoming one."

The extraordinary family portrait.

LISEL MUELLER: "At her wedding, a woman gave up
half of her name
and exchanged it for another.
Half of her is public,
subject to trade; the other
private, treasure and loneliness,
what he thinks of as her ,
what she would share, if she could."

 The King's cross-stitch design and handwork

SAUL BELLOW: "Dreams are readmitted only through the Ellis Island of science, by officials qualified in the legitimate interpretation of dreams. Music we bootleg. We bring it across the threshold surreptitiously."

LISEL MUELLER: "At night, with the lights out
and the TV turned up,  
a woman whispers his secret name:  
it frightens and excites him,
like the hundredth name of God."

 The Eldest recoagulates.

SAUL BELLOW: "When the noise dies down you'll find yourself with the "I" you first knew when you came to know that you were a self-- an event which occurs quite early in life. And that first self is embraced with a kind of fervor, excitement, love-- and knowledge! Your formal schooling is really a denaturing of that first self."

HERBERT LOWENSTEIN: "If you are a poet, I hope you can use language not just as it is, an oily lubricant for the frictionless working of the system."

All family portraits were taken by the talented Wildnei Suane. You can see more of his work online at Willarts and schedule a photo session with him if you happen to be in Atlanta. Because Brazilian photographers rock.

Help the Friends of Briarcliff Park win their battle against the DeKalb County machine.

Green space at the former Briarcliff Branch of the DeKalb County Public Library is shown on Sunday, Oct. 27, 2013, in Atlanta. A neighborhood coalition is gaining momentum to turn the county-owned property into a community center and park rather than rezoning the facility for commercial investment, as proposed by the library. Photo credit and caption: Friends of Briarcliff Park.

My in-laws are knee-deep in the grubby, exciting, and sometimes frustrating activity known as community activism. It is a long and sordid story of the typical backroom-deals-with-private-cronies sort; the details made me feel like I needed a shower. I am proud of Suebee and Pops for fighting to leave a lasting positive land-use choice in their community. Yet I know how discouraging the fight can become when you realize that your local representative actually only represents a few wealthy developers (as opposed to all those voters to which he owes his election). 

In a brief essay from The Impossible Will Take A Little While, activist K.C. Golden ruminated on how environmentally destructive choices become what we call "inevitable". His thoughts reminded me of Vaclav Havel's insistence that you do the right thing not for the sake of winning but for the sake of living as a free, moral agent, in spite of what seems socially acceptable. Golden believes the chilling effect of inevitability....

"....starts when the people who will benefit from these choices simply begin to assert their inevitability. People seem especially receptive to inevitability right now. We're comforted by the notion that amid all the uncertainty and confusion- the restructuring and rightsizing and layoffs and insecurity- some larger forces are at work toward a predetermined outcome. We're sort of relieved to hear that something's inevitable, even if it's not necessarily something we like. It clarifies things. It's more pragmatic to be resigned to the inevitable than to chart a new course through the chaos. So the myth of inevitability spreads and the prophecy fulfills itself. "

Charting "a new course through the chaos" is precisely what the courageous Friends of Briarcliff Park are doing. They are fighting the myth of inevitability tended them with slick smiles and well-pressed suits by the men and women who realized long ago that serving the people didn't pay cash dividends. 

And this is exactly what their Commissioner is trying to do- he wants to make the citizens believe that everything was decided long ago and there is just nothing anyone can do about it anymore. He wants them to understand how he feels their frustration, but, again, his "hands are tied". And this is exactly what the Friends of Briarcliff Park must refuse to believe. Not even when the bulldozers arrive and sit idle on the site. Because, as Golden writes:

"If the proponents of a particular course of action can get a critical mass of folks to believe that it's a foregone conclusion, pretty soon it will be."

"Inevitably we do have choices to make. Failing to make them consciously isn't failing to make them at all: It's just falling for the inevitability trap. It's just giving ourselves an excuse for allowing the wrong choices to be made... Among all the reasons for making the wrong choice, I think the least satisfying, the least noble, the hardest one to forgive ourselves for is: 'It wasn't up to me'."

This is what it means to be an active citizen. Winning or losing matters, but it matters much less than the community you engage and enable by stepping into the arena of local politics. If you live in Atlanta or would like to support the community-building efforts of a motley Atlanta neighborhood crew, mosey on over to their Facebook page and give them a Like. In their own words:

The Friends of Briarcliff Park is a grass-roots neighborhood organization that formed when concerned residents learned that county officials wanted to re-zone the closed neighborhood library from residential to a commercial status. Children, families and senior citizens lost their cherished local library in 2009 and the building and it's beautiful property have been closed since then. The area is perfect for an outdoor playground and park, with a community center for all to enjoy. We envision a bright future for this neglected facility.

Hey Friends, keep up the good fight for local democracy. That's what I was taught the United States of America was all about. 

Matt and Sarah, a not-so-secret love story.

I met Patrick's college house-mate and dear friend Matt way back in the days of flirt-fun-and-run-- the times when Patrick and I still managed to laugh at "all those other people who were getting married". The joke, of course, was on us. 

I know how much Patrick loves Matt, and how much it means to him (and now, to me) to get closer to Sarah, his partner, wife, best friend, sister, lover, the whole bit. This photo was taken at the worst restaurant in Orange Beach - The Crab Trap- where we dined our last meal before they left for Atlanta. For some reason, Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" came to mind- the lyrics and the layers of love when it is truly lived, as opposed to merely worn like a poncho. 

An afternoon with Patrick's grandparents.

Micah and Grandy take turns smiling for the camera.   

    On our way back to Tuscaloosa, we stopped by to visit Patrick's grandparents, Grandy and Granddad. The kids were enchanted by the house and its many colors and decorations. Patrick and Granddad got lost in a world of their own discussing banks, real estate, investments, and barbeque while the kids and I took a tour of the house and ground with Grandy.

Patrick and Granddad oblige me.

    Once upon a time, Grandy was an interior decorator. She told me that IBM would bring families to Atlanta and then give the "wives" a "decorator's stipend" to help them create their new homes. Grandy thoroughly enjoyed the freedom and opportunity provided by these stipends. Often, she discovered that these relocated wives longed for female companionship as much as they wanted a pretty house. So Grandy provided both.

A little corner in a room.

Grandy's dining room decor.

    We were privileged to see the sprightly side of Grandy when she started dancing in her chair as max played "Alouette" on the piano. Grandy sang along. The girls giggled and joined her. You can see the expressions of surprise and delight on their faces. She showed them how to dance with their hands posing as spiders.

Grandy shares decorating secrets with Micah.

Max enjoys the decorating magazines as well.

Milla's pooping pose.

    We knew the time to hit the road had come when Milla assumed her "pooping pose" on the back porch. Miles to go before sleep, and many more diapers to change before the stars finally claimed the sky.

Parks in Atlanta: The debate and the sides.

    While we visited Atlanta this weekend, the hot topic in the Coryell household was Jonathan and Jael's cameo on local TV about Atlanta parks.
    Apparently, the Trust for Public Land rated Atlanta's parks pretty low on their new "scorecard". Jonathan disagreed. Other locals wanted to see more diverse parkscapes including things like "community gardens"; I was proud to realize how progressive Tuscaloosa has been on this note. You can watch Jonathan and Jael talk up the parks at the article link above.

Backyard Atlanta.

    In this photo, Uncle Jonathan and cousin Josiah share their favorite words. I hate being asked to say "cheese" because it's so nondescript- what kind of cheese do you mean? So I asked them to say their favorite words while I took this photo. Jonathan doesn't have a favorite word, but Josiah unabashedly said, "red". 

    Watching Josiah grow is a blessing and a gift which we savor too infrequently.  His constant questions remind me so much of Max when he was still a little dude. 

Patrick and Aunt Rachel hang out in the backyard. Rachel drove up to Atlanta in a bright blue Mustang that Josiah called the "race car". She made quite an impression on the little ones with her wheels.

Since Ashley works on Saturdays, Bradley spends the day watching the twins, Sam and Jack, and their older brother, Ben. They are precious as Ben is precocious- each different and wonderfully made in their own little way. 

    Micah chases her cousins. Or her siblings. Because she loves to chase. And she loves to scream, "I won!" in a race. Or throw herself on the ground sobbing if she loses. Of all the little folks I know, she is most competitive. She tends to classify people as winners or losers based on their performance, and these initial judgements are not easily changed for Micah. 
    Since Micah is also the most sentitive and self-conscious of my kids, her competitive drive worries me. I think the desire to "win" or "succeed" or compete can play a positive role in someone's life when it is balanced by a strong sense of self and values external to the competition or idea of winning. Is it crazy to feel that, at four, Micah already gets too caught up in "the game" and its results? Explaining to her that losing is fun because losers learn more than winners only makes her mad- "NO! I don't EVER want to lose." Yikes.

A family fest at Stone Mountain with a historic detour.

    On our weekend trip to visit family in Atlanta, we got the chance to see Stone Mountain Park, a stunning and action-packed natural wonder filled with outdoor activities and learning opportunites. Patrick kept telling me that I absolutely must see the laser-show. Meanwhile, the kids ate up the delicious food prepared by Suebee and Pops while playing with their cousins in the sand pit at the playground. Aunt Ashley's brilliance came up again when I noticed she had wet the twins' heads in the water fountain to help them beat the heat. I don't think Ashley Coryell ever met a mountain she could not climb.
    According to Willard Neal, Stone Mountain's Confederate Memorial is "the world's largest piece of sculpture, cut into the side of the world's biggest exposed mass of granite". The carving itself is 90 feet tall and 190 feet wide, and its completion is fraught with mystery and history. I'll share a few versions of the narrative, especially since the official guide, Neal's Georgia's Stone Mountain, purchased at the park museum, leaves out significant facts about Stone Mountain's role in Georgia's history.
    In 1909, Mrs. Helen Plane, a charter member of the United Daughters of the Confederacy (UDC), expressed the thought that it would be a "fine place for a monument".  In 1915, Mrs. Plane had ascended to the position of president in the Atlanta Chapter of the UDC, and she began exploring the prospect of having a 70-foot statue of General Robert E. Lee carved on the steep side of the mountain. Sculptor Gutzon Borglum stayed for a few weeks at the nearby home of Samuel H. Venable, the patriarch of the family that owned the mountain, where he sketched images of Confederate soldiers riding around the mountain. 
    Borglum presented his drawings to a UDC meeting only to be met with a discomfitting buzz. The ladies could not commit to a sculpture that would require ten years to complete and 10 million dollars to finish. Nevertheless, in 1916, Sam Venable, Mrs. Coribel Venable Kellogg, and Mrs. Robert Venable Roper deeded the face of Stone Mountain and ten adjoining acres to the UDC with the caveat that the property would be returned to its original owners if a suitable monument was not finished in twelve years. 
   By this point, Stone Mountain was already playing a monumental role in the visions of another nearby group.  On November 15, 1925, a group of men wear white robes and hoods met at Stone Mountain to form a new version of the Ku Klux Klan. Leader William J. Simmons was assisted by members of the Knights of Mary Phagan in lighting a cross on fire. Nathan Bedford Forrest II, the grandson of the original Imperial Grand Wizard (or the Incredible Grand Pig-ear, as I like to call him), administered the KKK oath to all those present. Samuel Venable, the owner of Stone Mountain, witnessed the event.

    At the risk of seeming nitpicky or unfairly focused on unseamly details, I have to point out that Willard must have gone OUT OF HIS WAY to ensure that the KKK's early association with the Stone Mountain monument stayed out of his book. A newspaper no less prominent than the Atlanta Journal-Constitution proudly proclaimed the association in the clipping above from the November 1915 newspaper.
    The monument was put on the backburner as the US began to fight World War I. In 1923, however, fundraising began again. Mr. Venable gave the KKK an easement with perpetual right to hold "celebrations" at Stone Mountain whenever they desired. In this way, Mr. Venable made Stone Mountain one of the few sacred locations of the Klan in our country. Thanks to Venable's perpetual love for the Klan, many Klan members still consider Stone Mountain to be a monument to the KKK as well as the Confederacy. 
    Ultimately, the monument took the form chosen by the UDC and the Klan- a monument to three men whom they hoped would be adored as heroes of the Confederacy. A monument which depicted a battle scene or a set of soldiers would have been more ambiguous and less obviously glorifying than the quasi-Mount Rushmore which was ultimately created. Of the $250,000 raised, part came directly from the Ku Klux Klan but part came from the federal government, which in 1924 issued special coinage with Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson on them.

The Stone Mountain Confederate Memorial, the world's largest bas-relief

A few chalk drawings on a lower portion of the stone.

A well-drawn bird doodle.

Patrick and Micah sasheyed into the museum as Max and I lagged behind.

    The only bad history is the one which avoids a clear picture for fear of a forthright reckoning with the past. In his incomparable "I Have A Dream" speech, Martin Luther King said:

I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal." I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

    In this famous speech, Martin Luther King did not hesitate to declare- "But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!" Honestly, I think he would be thrilled to see how the playgrounds, jogging trails, and park spaces of Stone Mountain were covered with people of every possible skin color today.
    There's no need to "whitewash" history anymore. It's embarassing. Young children learn the names of the men on the monument and see them as heroes, so the context in which this carving was created as well as the audience it was intended to satisfy cannot be left out of the story. 
    As always, I encourage you to chase your own butterflies where they lead you and explore a little more of Stone Mountain. A few resources to help you on your way:

•  Historical photos of Stone Mountain, including postcards
• Awesome rock formations on the mountain, including lighting strikes on rock
• The Stone Mountain Covered Bridge, just beautiful
• The Grist Mill, moved from Ellijay to its current location in the park
• Weldon Wright's Trail, which Pat and I climbed in our courting days
• The carving up close
• The Songbird Habitat and Woodland Trail

A few moments from Christmas with the Coryell clan in Atlanta.

Milla gets serious the rocking chair.

Milla bursts into smile.

A few hours later, Milla enjoyed the rocking chair on a whole new level thanks to Suebee's arms.

Keturah, Cousin Ryan, and their little charmer, Cameron.

Ashley's creative Christmas gift: "Coaster face".

The Coryell family Christmas gift exchange was fun and wild, as such things can only be with 6 children under the age of five. All the gifts from the Coryell Castle were handmade- part of my attempt to enjoy a handmade holiday with the munchkins.

Ashley's gift inspired and excited many of us, so I thought I would share her take on The Frugal Girls' photo coasters (tutorial at link). Rather than use a smooth backing, Ashley gave the photos an aged effect by gluing them to stone tiles. Almost too pretty to use as a coaster- we don't have any coaster-worthy furniture in our casa anyway. I think I'm going to use a glue gun and put some mounting on the back so we can gaze lovingly at our coaster faces on the wall.

7 munchkins in an Atlanta yard.

It's a beautiful day to be a ball.

Patrick and Bradley play basketball in the background while Micah pushes trucks.

Sam watches the curious sunlight.

Max monitors the scene from the ramparts.

Micah's mysterious little thoughts.

Sorting games with wooden bowls.

A wooden tray with a hodge podge of items.

Little fingers eager to play.

So many ways to sort and combine.

Sort by color.

Sort by shape.

Sort by how it makes you feel.

Sort by number of items in the bowl.

Thanksgiving in Atlanta.

Whenever we come to Atlanta, there is so much going on that we never get the photos we wish we had taken of a house overflowing with munchkins and family members.

Suebee and the ladies in the dresses she bought for them.

Micah with her pigtails from Aunt Mallory.

All Foxfired-up: Exploring the Foxfire method to learning.

One of my greatest inspirations in home "schooling" has been the Foxfire series and its engaging form of exploration. Started in 1966 by an incredible teacher named Eliot Wigginton (a.k.a. Wig), Foxfire is the name that an English class picked, in 1966, for a student-produced magazine they chose to create, containing stories and interviews gathered from elders in their rural Southern Appalachian community. The name comes from the bioluminescent fungi that grow on rotting wood in damp forests creating a blue-green glow that can be seen only in dark, starlit areas, away from artificial light. 

In addition to a fostering a new learning relationship between teacher and student, Foxfire also generated a new type investigation known as "cultural journalism". For Wig, cultural journalism allows students to become deeply involved in exploring, recording, transmitting, and teaching their own local histories in a manner that both respects and honors the varying underlying assumptions of the storytellers and interviewees. Wig believed cultural journalism would encourage a broader appreciation for cultural diversity and global differences because students would begin the practice of immersing themselves in other worldviews and learning from them. 

Educational theorists from Reggio Emmilias to John Dewey have long touted the value of peer-to-peer teaching. The Foxfire school actually put this to practice by allowing "senior" Foxfire students to teach "junior" Foxfire students the various skills and emergent procedures in the production of the magazine. By encouraging the students to take ownership of the project pieces individually and the entire project as a group, Foxfire "taught" without "teaching down".

Brooks Adams explains how he discovered he was "learning":

"The basic idea behind the radio project is to have students do research and use the radio as the medium to reach the local audience with the final product. I didn't realize it when Suzie and I were doing radio for Foxfire that first summer, but in doing that, everything had an educational goal: everything that I was learning, gaining, and practicing that summer, everything from having to do the research about the topics, and writing down and taking notes, and turning information into a script, and having to condense it into a spot that was short enough, using the right words in the right places." 

And Wig explains why we need to re-learn how to teach (though I must admit that Grandma Vicki already told me all of this in some form or another over the years):

"All the evidence is there now that the kind of democratic, collaborative problem-solving approach to the curriculum that led to the creation of Foxfire works- and works in just about any situation, rural to urban, and just about any course. And it works far better than the method so many of us are fond of which simply has the kids reading textbook chapters and answering the review questions at the end of each. But the eternal dilemma I am my staffers confront in every course is that teachers just don't know how to do it. In many cases, that's because they've never experienced this type of process themselves as students. They can't imagine what it looks like, or what it feels like from the student's point of view to be immersed in it.

They're in just the same situation as the kids. The kids are intelligent, as are the teachers, but they don't have much experience in creating a manuscript for a publisher. So you provide the structure by which that experience can happen. Then the kids build on that structure. Teachers often need the same kind of training situation. Once they've been through it themselves, they can transfer the skills acquired to a host of new situations, as can the kids.

But teachers often aren't trained that way. They study philosophy in text/lecture courses- the worst form of instruction- and they study it before they have actually taught, so they have no experience base to which to relate the information. It's just like the kids, again, who are made to study enormous amounts of material without having any personal experience to relate it to, so it all goes through their heads because they believe the information is useless stuff they'll never want or need."

Teachers like Carol Coe (see article) have applied the Foxfire model in areas as diverse as Seattle, in which her students envisioned and created their own magazine, Encore, to explore sociological issues in their community. Among the various projects which students around the country have imagined and conducted:

• An environmental fair in which students wrote scripts and designed sets for puppet shows they videotaped themselves. They also created and displayed an ecology quilt, shoe-box dioramas and globes, and have each written books on endangered species.
• A United Nations model for several high schools in which each participant represented a different country and had to research that country's political position as it relates to the rest of the world.
• A pen-pal video written, directed, and taped by students about their urban, racially diverse school for a class in a rural school in Massachusetts.
• A detailed record of local weather patterns assisted by student-constructed rain gauges and weathervanes.
• The Thinking Mother's thoughtful post on how Foxfire can be applied.

You can visit the Foxfire Museum in Mountain City, Georgia and learn more about the rural Appalachian folkways and the Foxfire way of exploring, which emphasizes the importance of individual decision-making and reflection. Or you can begin brainstorming with your student/s or children right now.

Chasing butterflies in a Foxfire-inspired way:

• A 16-page PDF booklet which explains Foxfire, its history, and its books.
• How Foxfire's core principles were influenced by John Dewey's experiential education.
• "Student-Centered Learning Communities: Teachers' Perspectives", an academic article by Ardeth Deay and Joy Faini Saab.
• Rural Voices Radio celebrates rural focus areas with a combination of stories, poems, music, and local sounds and illustrates how place can provide powerful material for writing and learning.
• Swan's Island Memory Project was spurred by a tragic fire in which much of the Island’s recorded history burned to the ground. The Project aims to revive recollections of the small Maine Island through recorded histories and historical photographs.
• The Museum of the Person is an institution designed by Karen Worcman to capture the oral histories of oft-unrecognized individuals – from the homeless to nursing home residents – and provide them a “place” to tell and store their life stories.
• Faces of Fox Point uses storytelling, photo exhibits, and mapping exercises to understand and celebrate the community character of this historically rich Rhode Island neighborhood.
• Mapping Main Street is a collaborative documentary project that compiles multimedia contributions recorded by volunteers on actual Main Streets throughout the United States in an effort to capture the unique and varied nature of each street.
• Story Circles are modeled after traditional storytelling gatherings which allowed people in a town to come together to share experiences and stories. This process can help communities explore and identify unifying values, which can inform community planning processes.
• The Center for the Study of History and Memory is an academic research center dedicated to using first-person narratives as methods of documenting 20th century history.
• The Center for Digital Storytelling is an NGO dedicated to helping individuals (young and old, across the country) tell stories and listen to others.

Family time in Atlanta.

We skipped through Atlanta a few weeks ago to celebrate Jonathan's birthday and meet Baby Jael. Of course, in the meantime, we also managed to eat lots of scrumptious food, catch up with the Coryell clan, and re-discover how time flies when you visit family. I wish I had more photos to share...

Max hangs out at John Howell Park in the Highlands.

Little Milla takes a ride in a coup.

Swell.

This photo made my morning.

Aja, Jael, Josiah, and Jonathan Coryell.

Welcome to the world, Jael Coryell.

Yesterday evening, my sister-in-law Aja Coryell gave birth to a beautiful 6 lb 6 oz. baby girl named Jael (pronounced Jah- YELL). She is the newest member of Jonathan and Aja's family, which also includes the handsome, airplane-loving Josiah. We are so happy for them and can't wait to meet lil Miss Jael in person. Word on the street is that she looks like Patrick. 

Suebee and Jael have a moment.

Easter in Atlanta.

After the Easter egg hunt

We are so happy to have been in Atlanta for Easter-- not just because we saw family but also because we were able to share a meal and break some bread with dear Matt and Sarah. They honored us by allowing us to see photos and share in the sacred life of little Ethan. 

Apparently, Milla has roseola and passed it on to the twins. She had a low grade fever for several days which finally broke in a rash. I felt horrible about infecting Ashley's handsome twins, but it seems to be a family tradition that we share germs, sickness, and love when we get together. For the Easter meal, Suebee and Pops pulled their typical spectacular feast while Aunt Robin brought a bunny-shaped carrot cake which she baked herself complete with green-colored coconut flakes for grass. Almost too pretty to eat.

Milla loves Grandy's cross.

 

Micah loves Jennifer.

The Coryell clan in Atlanta.

I wish I could remember the name of this park. It was neat-o. Sandra even met a fellow Germanic-speaking gentleman. Patrick, of course, makes a grand impression in this photo.

Another poem by William Matthews, appropos of the blues.

What did I think, a storm clutching a clarinet
and boarding a downtown bus, headed for lessons?
I had pieces to learn by heart, but at twelve

you think the heart and memory are different.
"'It's a poor sort of memory that only works
backwards,' the Queen remarked." Alice in Wonderland.

Although I knew the way music can fill a room,
even with loneliness, which is of course a kind
of company. I could swelter through an August

afternoon -- torpor rising from the river -- and listen
to Stan Getz and J. J. Johnson braid variations
on "My Funny Valentine" and feel there in the room

with me the force and weight of what I couldn't
say. What's an emotion anyhow?
Lassitude and sweat lay all about me

like a stubble field, it was so hot and listless,
but I was quick and furtive as a fox
who has his thirty-miles-a-day metabolism

to burn off as ordinary business.
I had about me, after all, the bare eloquence
of the becalmed, the plain speech of the leafless

tree. I had the cunning of my body and a few
bars -- they were enough -- of music. Looking back,
it almost seems as though I could remember --

but this can't be; how could I bear it? --
the future toward which I'd clatter
with that boy tied like a bell around my throat,

a brave man and a coward both,
to break and break my metronomic heart
and just enough to learn to love the blues

A weekend with the Coryells in Atlanta.

Patrick, Bradley, and Jonathan on the couch at the home in which they grew up. We were able to celebrate Jonathan's 32nd birthday while we were there-- which was kidtastic. Grandy and Gramps Coryell dropped by and brought an heirloom gold baby bracelet for Micah.

And Micah was the most eager baby-pooler of the crew (poor Max had bronchitis, so he was a little on the tame side).

Here is a family photo at the neat playground which Pops selected (I think it was in the Highlands area).

Crazy times in Atlanta.

We spent the weekend in Atlanta with Patrick's family, and a wild and woolly weekend it turned out to be! I can't share all the craziness without divulging details that I am sure will now become family legends, so I'll just share a few of the many lovely things that happened over the course of 56 hours. Suebee and Pops (Patrick's parents) took all the brothers, their wives, and their babies bowling at 300 Atlanta. We even had a playpen that Suebee brought for the babies! It was hilarious-- and Max LOVED bowling. He told me later that he wants to be a professional bowler when he grows up. Grand-Bunicu got to witness a truly American holiday celebration, which he enjoyed most when a little beer or vodka entered the picture. I am sure he will have many fond memories...

 

 

Grandy and Gramps dropped by Saturday evening for some Christmas treats, including Pop's amazing home-made tiramisu. I think we all agreed that it was overflowing with holiday spirit! Rocky, Robin, Ashley, and Brooke welcomed us into their home on Sunday afternoon where we chowed down on pizza while visiting with Grandma Treadwell. I am so blessed to be a part of Patrick's gorgeous, large family.

Unfortunately, we did not get the time to visit with any friends... But we'll plan on a longer visit some time early next year.

Baby Ben is birthed!

Baby Benjamin Coryell was born at Northside Hospital in Atlanta today, weighing in at 8 lbs 8 ounces. Bradley and Ashley Coryell are the proud parents of this bundle of joy. My husband says lil' Ben is the spitting image of Bradley as a baby. I think he's just beautiful...

Patrick and his nephew Josiah.

I don't know which one is more handsome.... But the sexier one is clearly my husband. Yummy.

Drove my mom to Hartsfield yesterday and here's what I saw...

It's a boy for Jonathan and Aja! And I was fortunate enough to see his first portraits! Though I couldn't make out too much from the sonograms-- always very classy in black and white-- he looked like he had big feet. The aunt-to-be is also very excited.

The latest of late.

We spent this past weekend at the last Coryell brother wedding, which honored the holy matrimony of Bradley and Ashley Coryell. It was everything I read about in my Emily Post wedding book-- perfect to a T. And as they prepared to leave the reception, it started to snow!! Unbelievable and beautiful.

And now I can finally spill the news- Aja and Jonathan are pregnant, so we are all anticipating the arrival of a beautiful little blessing! If Ashley could be fairly called the loveliest bride this side of paradise, Aja is certainly the loveliest pregnant lady I've ever seen. I tried to explain to Max that he will have a cousin, but all he wanted to know was if this cousin would be his "puppy". What can a mother say to big mind-bending questions such as those posed by the little Max?