Don't Get Out Much

Well, you know, I don't get out and about very much. For instance, haven't flown in about 14 years. So today was quite a day. First I stopped at the secondhand store (well, I'm used to doing that anyway) and got an immense pile of wool for hooking, but haven't held them up to the Bird rug to see if they would work as a background (great prices, most half the marked price), went on to an estate sale that was in an intown neighborhood of Atlanta that has been neglected, etc., but which is on its way up, at the very beginning, in fact. The woman had her sale items set up all over her house and, in fact, it was one of those sales that the people have more than once. She was delightfully friendly and we were talking about the neighborhood, her fixerupper Craftsman house (that she got for only 110K a mere 24 months ago in a bankruptcy sale), her merchandise, etc., when my friend showed up that I was meeting there. She was looking and noticed the woman's business card and the woman's last name was the same as mine. Not a common name. Couldn't believe it. Her dad is from Detroit originally, and my family is from Ohio, Berks County PA before that, Alsace-Lorraine region before that. Then my friend started looking through the stack of photographs that the woman said were from a local photographer and they were photos of the family who had owned the elegant 1924 Avondale Estates craftsman house at least since the 1940s that my friend and her husband had recently purchased. She knew that because a few photos had been left behind in the house. Can you believe that?? Then my friend and I had lunch at a Mexican restaurant, then I drove down early to the airport to wait for my son to arrive from Albuquerque. He had been to an ROTC Honors Camp. I got there a few hours early, so sat down and talked to everybody who sat down next to me, people-watched all the arrivals walking through the South Terminal, and just had the best time. All the stories, all the rich lives. One pretty young woman had just gotten married six months earlier, was five months pregnant, and was waiting for her husband to get in from Paris, which he visits regularly on business. She had been there a week earlier visiting him. Then the middle-aged woman sitting by me just before Timothy showed up dropped a bombshell that she was waiting for not only her boyfriend to arrive, but her boyfriend's ex-wife, the boyfriend's mother, and somebody else, I think the ex-wife's boyfriend, who were flying back together from Missouri, where they were attending their son's graduation from something in the service. She said that her boyfriend's tone of voice had distinctly changed over the week as they spoke on the phone, that is to say, had gotten colder, and she was understandably concerned, and now I won't ever know what happened!!


Unknown said...

Oh Karen - don't you just hate not knowing the end of a story :o) You americans are so much more friendly than we brits - you'd just never ever manage to engage british people in a conversation like that waiting in a UK airport - sadly they'd all look at you like you were the 'nutter on the bus', it makes me very sad that we as a nation are such insular people - some areas are better than others, here in Somerset people are far more friendly than where we lived in Gloucester but it would be great to be as friendly and responsive as you on that side of the pond. People who travel regularly on the tube to work in London can travel next to the same group of people every day for years and not even say good morning - how sad is that?

Betty said...

I miss being able to sit at the gate and wait for someone's arrival. I used to get there early and walk around. It used to be so much fun watching all the reunions. To me, it's just not the same waiting now by the luggage carousel. I've found that sometimes people are very friendly and other times everyone wants to be left alone. I guess it's a sign of the times. Flying is such a hassle now. When we flew to Newark a couple of weeks ago we had to sit and wait for another plane to leave the gate. Then there was no one to drive the jetway to the plane so we could get off. We landed at 6:20 PM and didn't get off the plane until 7:00. The pilot told us that he had called for someone to come, but it took a little while. Can you believe it? I remember as a kid going to Newark Airport and going out on the observation deck and watching the planes. I believe there was only one terminal back then. How times have changed. Betty

Anonymous said...

I'm commenting here on your earlier post of 6/29..
I love your primitive portrait! (Though it doesn't look "primitive to me! LOL)
It reminds me of a "coloring" book I had in the 50's where you went over this special paper with a wet paintbrush and the picture appeared. It was in the same style as your portrait.
Way cool!

Katie said...

The conversations are the stuff books are made from - maybe quilts too.

The Calico Cat said...

How neat... I never initiate conversations with strangers, but I read somewhere about a gal & her friends who tell strangers on planes & in airports blatant LIES!

Judy said...

Oh no, I hate to say that I hate when people start talking to me in public. I usually am reading or sewing. But it does make for not knowing interesting things.

I'm guessing all that time with the ex and the mom wasn't going to be good if they don't like her!

Anonymous said...

Gee Karen,
Our yard sale experience sounds so interesting when I read about it from your perspective! I remember the night you couldn't sleep, so you "got up and started a blog." It's wonderful--viewing it (thanks for the visuals)is an uplifting pleasure. Such beautiful work--on the quilts and on the blog.

As a non-quilter, I admire your focus! (Clearly you don't suffer from Adult ADHD like some of your friends. :) I would get all bogged down in the blogging, and I'd never get the quilting done again!

Thanks for sharing your lovely work.

The other Cheri