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.

Oh, my. I feel like a truck ran over me. Arrrrgg. Today I had a yearly doctor’s appointment that was scheduled so early the sun wasn’t up when we left the neighborhood, and after the doctor, we spent three hours in Haverty’s and then didn’t buy anything. We didn’t get back home until time to take two Tylenol and dream of a nap. Arrrrgg. Forget the nap. Too much to do. Way too much to do. My list looked like a greedy kid’s Christmas catalogue of “wants,” rolling out and over the edge of the table. It is Spring after all, right? Time to take down the winter drapes, beat the rugs, sweep out the fireplace ashes, pack up holiday dishes still in the kitchen cupboard, change the linens from top to bottom–new duvet, new shams and cute new print sheets and pillowcases, and the greatest challenge is?? To change winter clothes into spring and summer wear. I wish that I had a magic nose which I could “twitch” and my walk-in closet, which has only about 50 percent of its space actually devoted to clothing, would magically switch places with the clothing in the suitcases and boxes stacked in 25 percent of that same closet. The other 25 percent is boxes I have been moving around for 20-plus years without ever unpacking.
I really do despise that job, but it has to be done, just as the other Spring tasks I named. What I really wanted to do was visit places like Ikea. Do you know that this week I actually made my first ever trip to that ‘Super Millennial Warehouse for Minimalists’? A special friend took me; she was there only, repeat, only to buy meatballs, yet I came home with $150 worth of linens and a plastic spatula. I didn’t even get any of the famous meatballs. And as much as I love my friend, I probably won’t be making any more trips to Ikea. The traffic! Awk! I would however love to try those meatballs.
So, last Wednesday, Bill and I finally got back into our home after the floor refinishers got out. Unpacking and doing laundry from our two-night stay with a friend across the street was about as much work as when we returned from a week at the beach — just without the sand. I had taken way too many clothes and then did not have the ones I needed for my big two day excursion. Isn’t that always the way?
Well, anyway, my week was not only filled with things I had to do, but some delightful events worked their way into my life as well. An exciting program of Irish Dance was presented by the Senoia Historical Society on Thursday evening. Twenty-five young dancers, students of Scott Porter (once lead dancer with the internationally famous Riverdance ), came to the Senoia Baptist Church in order to do their energetic dances—the floors at the 1870’s home at #6 Couch Street (the address of the Historic Museum) were hardly capable of sustaining such high kicking Irish jigs and “step” dances. It was wonderful seeing these dedicated students (many train for as many as three hours daily—some even as many as seven!) who have studied for years hoping to dance professionally. Their chances are good. At least eight of those we saw were already medal holders. Beautiful young people. Hard workers.
Another really fun evening even without dancing, but with costumes, was my book club’s meeting at Sherika Hughes’ home which is situated on several beautiful acres overlooking a pond with a lovely gazebo. Though I espied several opportunities for seating up to 12 guests in gorgeous rooms with chandeliers, we were escorted to an amazing table on a screened and glassed porch/entry. Sherika had performed magic with the table settings and the food which was a combination (as best as I understood) of her country’s wonderful cuisine and of Indian delights, similar to that in the book, “The Storyteller’s Secret” which we were discussing. In preparation for the evening, I had borrowed a Sari from my friend Sheridan who had visited India for a wedding and returned with a lavish golden creation and jewelry fit for Cleopatra. I was hoping to encourage several of the ladies to try wrapping the Sari on according to the YouTube directions I had found, but after surfeiting ourselves on the banquet of fabulous foods inspired by the “The Storyteller’s Secret,” no one seemed interested in anything but the jewel-like fruit and exotic pastry desserts on the sideboard.
Fine! I would do it myself; I would just wrap my self up! Even Jane, who is beautiful, young, and had worn the prescribed black tights and black jersey top, could not be encouraged to become the Princess of a Raj (not sure that is even right, but it sounds exotic). I, on the other hand, never miss a chance to play “Dress Up.” My dear, dear friend Lauren came over, took the 69 yards of gold embossed fabric right out of my hands, said, “Now stand still. Stop! Now turn. Turn again. Stand still! Wrap this around and tuck it in.”
Somehow, she managed to turn me around a dozen times and in doing so, she turned this old lady into one stunning number. I mean, I challenged the sparkling chandelier in my gorgeous gold Sari. When the others saw the finished product, several chorused, “Oh my, Lynn looks just like an Oscar!” Very funny.
• Don’t miss opening night of the “O Brother, Where Art Thou” juried art show next month on Thursday April 11th at the Senoia Historical Museum, and don’t miss seeing the Lisa Kelly Show at the Fred on May 22 where Scott Porter will be one of several special guests of his wife Lisa (she is one of the original members of “Celtic Woman,” a group Scott directed). Perhaps he will put on his dancing shoes. Neither of these shows is to be missed!