Ode to Joy

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Lynn Horton is a freelance writer and editor who in another lifetime taught English and Creative Writing at McIntosh High School and later worked in the Starr’s Mill High School Media Center.

There is such sweetness on this earth if one will simply look, listen, and taste the buffet God has presented for our joy, our comfort, our delight, and our edification. This week alone He has put some of the loveliest people in my way; people I sought out, people that were introduced to me by others I love, and people that serendipitous occasions have brought into my life and with whom I see a future friendship.
Andrea (remember my young friend with the Green Bubble) came to dinner last night and brought a charming guest with her. A gentleman friend that Bill and I immediately decided to add to our favorites list. He knows how to converse with older adults (us), has a number of interests that we share (Heritage Days at PTC Airport), seems to have his feet planted solidly in the real world, is polite, courteous, and knew the lines to much of Fried Green Tomatoes (the movie we finally finished watching). Now what’s not to love about that!
Last Thursday at the Senoia Historic Museum’s monthly program, a well-spoken young teacher and very interesting person, Lyn Hubbard, entertained and educated the full house about the “Lost Art of Handwriting.” She and I had found one another through my search for a Calligrapher, and I am so glad we did! We have so much in common; she too teaches Language Arts and is something of a traditionalist like myself. In fact, she hinted that she will be introducing Cursive into her seventh grade curricula. Did you know that our home state (yes, Lyn and her husband are also from Mississippi!) has passed a law requiring Cursive be taught in schools! Way to go, Mississippi. I personally hope other states will see the light and bring back this dying art.
Today, while Bill and I were partaking of pork biscuits and gravy, custom-made omelets, apple dumplings, and about a dozen other incredibly yummy breakfast treats (the Belgian waffles with cherries and blueberries and fresh cream were to “die for”) at the wonderful Valentine Day Breakfast affair at the Veranda, a historic Senoia Bed and Breakfast Inn, we met a couple that Laura, the innkeeper, had told me about just days before.  Serendipity. Seems the couple, another Laura and her husband Joshua, were married at the Veranda in October in a fairytale adventure. Now what does that have to do with me and why would I be interested (and excited!) to see this couple’s wedding photographs? Wel-l-l-l. I hope it is all right that I let the cat out of the proverbial bag…just a little bit…and tell you, Dear Reader, that the Veranda, in partnership with the Southern Crescent Storytellers, will be hosting an outdoor, day-long event in the fall at that very venue. And this couple and their charming photographs were just the inspiration we need to bring magic to Senoia.
Laura and Joshua seemed happy to show off the amazing pictures from a wedding that seemed right out of a Tolkien novel. It was like the RenFest had come alive under the oaks at the beautiful Veranda Inn. Breathtaking! Utterly breathtaking. Such attention to detail, I have never seen. The tablecloths were made of moss. Moss, for crying out loud! Fairies dressed the bride in her gossamer gown, and royalty were in attendance as the groom readied himself for the ceremony. I may be making some of this stuff up, but I was so inspired by the photographs of the wedding of these delightful, creative, new acquaintances, that I am still burbling like a brook in some medieval landscape!
As Bill and I drove home full of delicious fare and excited that we had made such a fortuitous contact right on the grounds of the Inn, and while in the company of one of Southern Crescent Storytellers planning team, Neal Peeples, (timing, people, timing!), I could hardly contain my excitement. Neal had dined and conversed with us (a meeting also unplanned!) throughout the breakfast and of course, was privy to the meeting with the Adams and their fairytale wedding story. Bright yellow daffodils nodded gently in the breeze as we turned into our drive. “I don’t remember seeing these, Bill?”  He answered my puzzled comment, “They weren’t open when we left.” Sigh.

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