I Gotta Get Outta Here! I Gotta Get Outta Here!

So, a few weeks ago, Disney reopened after being closed since March. I had really wanted to be there on Re-Opening Day, but no luck, due to their new Park Pass reservation system. I wasn't able to score an Annual Passholder reservation, nor could I find anything for July 11th (the day Magic Kingdom reopened). I decided on July 28th, which was the first day off after Hubby's birthday. I thought it would be a nice escape/birthday present. I was also looking forward to being back in my happy place and being able to take lots of photos of a mostly empty park!

I sat on this for a week or so, then asked him at dinner one night if he was ready to go back to Disney. He immediately said NO! He said that it didn't feel like Disney to him, and he refused to go. I told him that it was a bummer he felt that way, but I'd just go alone. 

After that discussion, I thought about it, and decided to go ahead and cancel the trip... If I went, he'd be resentful and grumpy the next time we went to Disney. If I didn't go, I'd be resentful that he spoiled it for me... either way was a lose-lose situation, but he can be a bigger butthead about things (I love him, though!), so I sacrificed the idea of awesome photos. But I never said anything to him about cancelling. 

Last week (on the 19th) when I picked him up from work, he was really grumpy and he told me that he was mad that I was going to go ahead and go to Disney, even though I knew he was against the idea. He felt it wasn't the right time to go to Disney, that it didn't feel magical. He could never give me a solid reason as to why I shouldn't go. He also said that "a good photographer would be able to take photos without crowds on any random day" which hurt to hear him say to me. So we agreed to disagree and spent an evening in silence. Yes, even though I'd already decided not to go. I was not going to let him think he "won." After a few days, we stopped tiptoeing around each other and got over it.

I officially cancelled the reservation the weekend before the trip, but I still wanted to GO somewhere... so where should I go? 

One of the BEST movies in the world!

Obviously, anywhere I go is going to have restrictions in place (masks, occupancy, etc). I debated going to Ocala for some junk food seafood at Long John's, but there was also this place called Busy Bee up in Live Oak that I discovered when doing some research for our Road Trip Adventure next year... It's a Buc-Ee's knock-off, basically. I could visit my old high school town and the place I lived for a few years, then hit up Live Oak and drive home. 

Map of my Trip

 I decided to do that, and skip Long John's. 

So, Tuesday morning, I was up at 9 and left by 10am. I picked up soda at Circle K, and cleaned out the trash from the trunk and backseat. As I was shoving stuff in the trash can, I realized that my ring finger wasn't catching on the lid of the trashcan (as it normally does, because of my rings), and I started freaking out! Oh, where are my rings!? I texted hubby, and he said he didn't see them "in the usual spots," so I headed home (I'd already looked around the Circle K area). I found them in the kitchen, hanging on the hook I always hang them on when I'm cooking... he forgot to check there. 

Also, at this point, it's probably 11am, and I'd not even had breakfast! I'd planned on going to McDonald's in the next town north, but never did. I drove to my hometown via county and state roads (you can't get there via the interstate), and it all looked so much the same, yet so different. It's hard to explain. The first part, along Highway 441 was familar to me, as many times we drove this way to go to my mother's house, but we'd not been this way in probably 5 years. But once I left 441 for 27, it was almost foreign territory. It looked "almost right" but not quite right. Many times I thought to myself did that used to be a gas station? or oh, they closed down Sally's Sundries. 

Coming into town was a surprise, because the town had grown over the past 15 years since I'd been there last. Oh, don't get me wrong, there was still no actual red light (just a 4-way blinker in the middle of town), but they had a McDonald's now! And a Subway! And a Dollar General! Very fancy. 

My first stop was Ivey Park, a natural springs in which I spent many summers swimming. Natural springs are 72º all year round, so in the hot summers in Florida, it's a shock to the system, but it feels great when you finally get all the way in!  

Full view of the springs at Ivey Park in Branford, FL

The water is crystal clear!

Looking toward the exit (on the left) toward the Suwanee River

The swimming hole was 99% the way I remembered, with a rebuilt boardwalk, and stairs where my favorite hangout spot used to be. 

Those stairs used to end at my favorite place to put my towel

I couldn't NOT put my feet in the water!

I took some photos then headed further inside the park to the boat ramps. I avoided the first one (near the picnic tables) because there was a large group of people there. The second ramp was peaceful, and I took advantage of the quiet to kick off my shoes and dip my feet in the Suwanee River. I sat and listened to the sounds of the area, the lapping of the waves from a passing boat, the wind through the trees.

One of two boatramps at Ivey Park

Looking up the Suwanee River

How could I not stick my feet in the water here too?

So artsy...

Unfortunately, a truck wanted to launch his boat, so I moved away and headed back to the car. Once I got to the car, I realized that the old Dive Shop was gone (I spent many dollars here, buying chips and Pepsi in glass bottles... yeah, I'm that old.)

They had metal screw-off caps and the labels were thin sheets of styrofoam-ish stuff

My next stop was my first real job - the Scaff's Grocery Store in town. Apparently now, though, it's an IGA! It looked exactly the same on the outside. Almost from muscle memory, I ended up parking in the same spot I would always park in when I was working there. I walked in the same door I'd always walk in on the way to work (it was the side that used to have a soda machine outside, but not anymore). 

On the inside, it was, again, same but different. In 1994, there were 3 registers and a customer service desk/manager's office.  The registers were manual (I had to type in .99 then hit the "grocery" or "meat" button to tally the groceries) and had round turn-tables to move the groceries toward me (no conveyor belts for this joint!)

These were notorious for smushing tomatoes

Now, they have 2 registers (with small belts), and the customer service/manager's office is against the front wall. I wasn't' expecting to see anyone I knew, but I was kind of bummed that I didn't recognize anyone. (I mean, come on, Lazy... it's been 25 years! They're probably all dead... they were old when you worked there!)

Other than that, the layout didn't change much. I peeked into the back room to see if that was the same, but it had been remodeled. 

Throwback Photo to 1994: Manager Paul (L) and Bagboy David (R)

After walking around like an idiot, I picked up a few bags of Uncle Ray's Hot Chips (the BEST hot chips on the planet) and made my way to the register. I chatted up the cashier, Marsha, and she told me that the store had been an IGA for longer than 3 years, though she'd lived in town for over 13 years, and when she first moved to town, it wasn't an IGA. She said it was "dark, dirty, and stinky" and she refused to shop there.

Once I left town, I headed for "home". 

It's funny to call it "home..." because I only officially lived there from 1993 to 1996, but my grandmother lived there practically since I was born (I think she moved there in 1980), and I would spend every long vacation with her - summers, spring breaks, Christmas breaks, they were all with her. She had a home across from the Suwanee River, and I loved it there. Summer couldn't come fast enough for me. 

I don't want to completely hijack my own blog post, so I'll just say... stay tuned for a new page on my blog called Stories of my Grandmother. I have lots of memories that I want to share and document, so now I'll have a page to just jot them down on when I have a wild hair. 

Back to the trip! 

I drove down Highway 349 and was sad to see that the small convenience store was closed and destroyed. It was the only gas station for miles between home and work, and I would often stop in for another one of those fancy glass Pepsis, or some Tom's Hot Fries (back when they were good). 

Past the gas station, was the road to my old house. I'd forgotten that the road had been paved about 10 years ago, with street signs and everything! (Yes, yes, we were the living embodiment of You Might Be  a Redneck jokes).

I saw that our neighbor Ed (yes, we called him Mr. Ed) was still there, or at least his trailer was, though the land had been cleared and looked to be planted with some random crop. 

Someone was living on our property, I could see a dark grey mobile home, but I was respectful and didn't go up the driveway to check it out. It looked like a different trailer from the one my parents purchased. I slowly drove past the house and headed towards what I thought would be the road to my old church, but I turned too early and actually passed my old BFF's house... I wondered if his mom still lived there (last I knew, he's living up north in the snow and cold). I came back and turned the correct way and drove to church. 

Hatchbend Baptist Church (Church on L, Fellowship Hall on R)

As a kid, I wasn't all that religious, but I was a good, churchgoing kiddo when I spent time with Grandma. Every Sunday I was at Sunday School, I sang with the choir, and got church giggles with the boys in the back pews. My (step) grandfather is buried in the graveyard here. Every year, I attended Vacation Bible School with my friends and fought over who would carry the flags during the evening processional, and who would carry the bible. I was even baptized again at this church in 1991. 

Unfortunately, the days of churches keeping their doors unlocked are over, and the church and fellowship hall were both locked up tight. I was able to park and walk around for a few minutes but it began to rain, so I ran back to the car, said a little prayer, and headed toward my next destination.

It stopped raining by the time I got to J.T. Earl Park (I think that's the name... I remember Earl anyway!). This park was directly across from my grandmother's house that I grew up in. We would walk over here daily to climb down a steep bank to get to the river. We didn't need stairs. We didn't need a ramp. We had tree roots and rocks. Of course, those are long gone or buried now, and I wasn't able to climb down this time.

The view from the river, looking towards Grandma's House

The view from the park, overlooking the river

Here, I simply listened to the lapping of the water, the wind in the trees, and talked to Grandma. It was an emotional 10 minutes or so, nothing I'm going to go into specifics about. I miss her. I've missed her for the past 15 years. It doesn't get easier, dealing with her being gone... It gets... less frequent. I think that's a good way of thinking about it. I can go for weeks or months without thinking about her, but then something reminds me of her and BAM! I can't breathe and my heart hurts. That part isn't easier, not at all.

Looking down at where we scattered her ashes in 2006

Once I had some peace with the river, I made my way across the street to her house. When she passed, she willed the house to my older brother. For me, she'd set up a savings account of a certain amount (which I decimated at a very young age, us being poor newlyweds and parents). I'm not angry about either of those things. It's her choice to decide who gets what. 

My brother, however, was not the most responsible person in his 20s and 30s (Neither was I, honestly, but more so than he). The property laid vacant and unattended to for many, many years after she passed. I knew that. Growing up here, I was very familiar with the idea that unsecured properties would be looted. That happened within a few years, I would guess. Made me angry, but I wasn't shocked. 

Logically, I should have expected what I got. 

Emotionally, I was not prepared.

Both driveways were completely overgrown. I couldn't get my car much further than off the side of the road. I picked up a stick and began to make my way deeper into the property (there were a lot of banana spiders and webs to deal with, hence the stick). 

I could see the 2nd story of the house from the street, but the bottom floor - what it was - was harder to see until I got further in.

So far, so good...

Growing up here, she had a single-level home that had a living room, dining room, kitchen, pantry, and bedroom. The bathroom was a separate structure set apart from the house (never new why...). In 1989, the year it snowed in North Florida, she was in the process of adding on an attached bathroom. After the river flooded her home multiple times over the years, she was able to afford to build a second story addition onto the house, ostensibly to be a new house. The new house would also have a kitchen, pantry, dining, living, and bedroom. The bathroom was still downstairs. Once she was done with the upstairs build, the downstairs became storage, and an extra kitchen for canning during the warm Florida summers. 

When I came into the clearing of the yard, I died a little inside. The entire 1st floor was gone. Just... gone.

That pile of rubble used to be the living room

If you didn't know there had been a home there, you wouldn't know now. There was a large pile of construction materials to one side, like someone took everything apart and stacked it up, but it was all warped and rotten, and none of it made sense. There was a rotting velvet couch sitting where the dining room would have been.

Her ancient velvet sleeper sofa

Her cast iron fireplace was gone, which wasn't surprising. It was a massive piece, and probably the most "Grandma" thing I could have ever wanted to keep from her house, but I bet that thing walked away real quick after she left the property. 

From the outside, the upstairs actually looked a little better than expected. I couldn't climb the stairs because they were all rotten, of course. But the door and most of the windows were still in place. Once I moved further into the yard, I could see that the roof had caved in (most likely due to a tree falling on the house), which either allowed the floor to rot and fall, or the tree came through the floor as well... I could see my grandmother's bed through the floor, and I could see the blue sky behind it. After seeing all of the damage, my assumption is that the roof had become compromised, which allowed rain to enter the home, and as we all know, Florida weather is not kind to wood structures. It probably began rotting within a season or two. I would love to be able to pull myself up to the second story with a ladder, just to see what's left in the kitchen/dining room area (the floor wasn't caved in there), but that will probably never happen.

You can see the edge of her bed to the left of the bright light

The entire original "Outhouse" was gone, of course. It was already falling apart at the turn of the century. Oh, and, no... it wasn't an actual Outhouse, it was simply a second tiny building that had a bathtub and toilet, as well as a laundry area. I don't know why it was all by itself, but it was kind of fun to be a small kid and be All Alone while I took a bath or brushed my teeth. It was miserable to go to and from the outhouse in the winter time, though!

Obviously, anything that was in any way important or useful had long since walked away, but I poked around anyway, to see if there was anything buried among the leaves and dirt. 

I found two glass jars, most likely ones that either once had food in them, or were set aside to be used for canning. One was an old Sanka jar, and the other was most likely a mayonnaise jar. I also found a small porcelain bowl that I didn't recognize, but it was in good enough shape that I knew I had to keep it. 

I found the top of her old Great American Popcorn Machine, which was a punch in the gut. I remember making popcorn in that many times over the years, putting a stick (yes a stick) of butter on top to melt and drip over the fresh popcorn. It had a few cracks in it, but it wasn't broken, so I tucked it safely in the car.

I want to go to eBay and buy a replica one day

On the way out, though, was the strangest find. Sitting there, on a stump (how did I miss it on the way in?) was a bright blue Bay Area Renaissance Festival stone mug from 1995. It was just... there... like a beacon. You know how, in video games, if there's something really important for you to find, it's sitting in a ray of sunshine, practically glowing? Yeah, it was like that. My father (Grandma's son) was heavily involved with that festival, and she loved it. I graduated high school in 1995, so while not oooooooooh, spooky!, it was still a kind of weird coincidence. Why was it here? Why was it not already stolen? It was practically clean, when compared to a lot of other things around the area. If she left it for me, I'm not sure what the message is... My dad my be an ass, but you're damn sure right I kept that mug. It has a place of honor in my home office now. 

But even more interesting than the mug was the last experience I had before I turned around to leave... I was poking at things in the dirt, when from behind me I heard a loud thump. I whipped around and saw a large black cat running deeper into the woods... My grandmother was always known as the person who would take in stray animals. When people dumped their dogs in the woods, they ended up at her house. When cats showed up out of nowhere, they ended up at her house. I can't even begin to count how many cats and dogs and chickens and things she loved over the years. I can't remember names, but I remember many of them. 

That my grandma's property is still giving shelter to animals... that's the best feeling. That cat made me remember how much I loved my grandmother's loving spirit. Even fifteen years after her passing, she's still taking care of cats!

As I walked back to the car, I turned around and looked again at the place I grew up, and I was angry. Girl, I was HOT. So I did what any rational thinking human being would do... I pulled out my camera and hit record. I tried to sound rational. I explained my feelings and why I was sad, and mad. But then I just had a bit of a meltdown. No, you don't get to see it. I probably won't even keep it. I'll probably watch it before I publish this blog and delete it because I sound like a crazy person... who knows!

Angry, and sad, and emotionally wrung out like a sheet, I got back in the car and left. I would probably never see this place again, I realized. I had no reason to come here any more. Nothing held me here... 

I really wasn't planning on having such an emotional crisis during this road trip, but it is what it is, I guess!

On the road again, I headed back towards town, driving to Live Oak, picking up some things I needed at Lowe's, and then onward towards Busy Bee's. 

So... lots of people say that Busy Bee is an equivalent to Buc-Ees. Now, I've never (yet) been to a Buc-Ees, but I do have eyeballs that watch YouTube, and I'll tell ya... this was no Buc-Ees.

I'll give it this... Yes, the bathrooms are very nice. The ladies' room is very large with plenty of stalls and sinks. The stalls had actual doors that, when locked, showed "Occupied", and they were huge, in fact, possibly too huge! I had to lean over to even reach the toilet paper!

I'd equate Busy Bee to this... a Cracker Barrel, a RaceTrac, and a Candy Store all got together and made a FrankenStore. It couldn't really figure out what it wanted to be. 

First, it has a store like Cracker Barrel, full of things that 67-year old rich church women would buy - expensive lotions, ugly leather purses, charm bracelets, etc. Very overpriced and pretentious (really, a leather purse for $150 from a gas station? Uh, no). They did carry a lot of BlueQ merch, so that was awesome.

Then, there was a Candy Store, but most of the candy bins were empty, so getting a bag of assorted candy was pointless. The back wall was full of bulk bins of M&Ms and nuts and stuff. 

Then, there was a Dunkin' and a BK. BK was dead (I picked up a burger on the way out), but Dunkin' was hoppin' (I picked up a maple frosted to go with my burger). 

Then, there was a Jerky and Sweets Counter. I could get fudge, truffles, dipped pretzels, and venison jerky, all from the same place! I got an ounce of original jerky (when I ate it the next day it was terrible! So dry and icky...)

Then, there was the Specialty Food section with assloads of specialty jams, jellies, sauces, salad dressings, hot sauces, and rubs. The way the foods were merchandised was terrible too... They were on short display tables like the one shown below, and since the bottom is so close to the ground, you couldn't really read the product labels, and I'm not gonna bend over that far just to "window shop" random barbecue sauce at a gas station.

The bottom rack is way too close to the ground to read labels

Then, finally, there was a convenience store and Truck Stop. They had a great selection of stuff at least. 

All in all, I ended up picking up some Bee Bits, Buttah Bees, Uncle Ray's Chips, Uncle Ray's Onion Rings, a small mix of candy, big Laffy Taffy sticks, and some Cowboy Jerky. Also, a cheeseburger, a fountain drink, and a donut. (We were more impressed with the Bee Bits than the Buttah Bees). 

Now that my "Homeward Bound" road trip was over, I hit the interstate to head home. I got home around 5:15, cried on Hubby's shoulder for a while, then picked up some fast food and ate in bed. I slept off my "No Food" headache, and I feel better today. Empty, but better than yesterday. 

I still want to go back to Long John's in Ocala, but I've satisfied my wanderlust for a while. Maybe I'll treat myself for my birthday in September. 

*I apologize for how wonky this post looks... I was forced to start using the new Blogger interface template and it sucks donkey balls...