January 2010 - A New Beginning

A New Beginning. It's January, yup, time for another update. Time has flown. I thought I was only a month or two behind and before I knew it 6 months had breezed right by. Keep posted. I will be posting some writings as soon as they are published!

Charity

August 2009 - I Am Not One of Them

2009 August - I Am Not One of Them.
They sit around in perfectly ironed capris, flip flops and manicured toes. They are the preppy, the bubblegum types, the soccer moms. "Casserole Queens of the south unite!" They chant as it is their battle cry.

I sit there too, but my cry is different. Unlike the rest, my toenail polish is chipped, my SUV is dented and dirty....the list could go on. As humans we share a common bond, we are woman, we have a conceince. We may look the same but we are vastly different.

Don't take me at face value. I am much different. Look deep, deep into the photograph and see my heart, my story, listen to my song. I am not the only one.

July 2009 - Touring Savannah

I have decided to tour my hometown. There are so many things to see and do, I have not even begun to reach the tip of the proverbial iceberg (since I am in Savannah, Icebergs are not even close to reality). I will try and share my journey through this international historic city.

Today my tour began at the Gryphon Tea Room. Dottie (my neighbor) and I enjoyed chilled chicken salad with frozen fruit on the side. The portions were feminine but nothing to be sniffed at. The air was filled with history as the warm dark wood and ornate trim told its story.

The apothecary drawers lined the wall as the sunlight filtered threw the stained glass prescription pestle windows. It had the feel of a pub, with the air of an Audrey Hephurn movie. Air and class combined with the strength and character made this a truly enoyable place to visit. Orchid and magnolia prints lined behind the counter where a soda jerk once stoof. Orange chairs gave a whimsical Alice in Wonderland feel. Almost too small, they made you perch on the edge until you begin to chat and relize you have just spent hours there.

When we had first walked in the door we were greated by high ceilings, granite round cafe tables, square granite tables that remind you of your grandmother's treadle sewing machine. The splash of color of the orange chairs, the subtle green of the striped fabric ceiling draw your eye heavenward. A huge chandelier encased behind a massive shade only serves to pique your curiosity further.

The visit was lovely and I look forward to going again soon.

June 2009 - People are in our lives for a purpose

I firmly believe people are brought into our lives for a purpose. Whether it be to bring us joy and to know God better, or to give us adversity and make us stronger, we all have a purpose.

I was talking with a friend recently and we both underestimated how much other people listen to what we say. It's the moments when we are rambling on, not paying attention to what is coming out our pie hole that some of the most inspirational moments take seed. When I had so many ideas and dreams I couldn't find direction in my life, she said, "take the first one and run with it until it pans out, then move on to the next." How true those words are and how much they have affected my life.

Our biggest mistake in life is underestimating that purpose. Selfishly focusing on ourselves robs us of the chance to bless others and be blessed ourselves. When you get out of bed in the morning, do you commit your day to the Lord? Why, or why not? Isn't He the one that made the sun shine and gave us the dawn? Fear can take that blessing away. When we go out, it is not for ourselves, it is to bless others and share the good news. Have you been blessed today? then share it. Do you have a testimony? Share it. Others need you. You need them.

Eulogy to a Burning Farmhouse

Savannah lost an important landmark today. A historic farmhouse, known to many as where the big cow was on seventeen. The house held many memories for people of Savannah, especially for us who called it Grandma’s house. After eighteen years the house was sold to a development company based in Augusta Georgia. Martha Holland and Nancy Boyd, known to us as Grandma and Aunt Nancy, moved, and our memories dissolved into a puff of smoke as a training exercise for over fifty firefighters.



Tears filled Martha Holland’s eyes as she recalled moving to the old farmhouse in 1991. She sits next to her son, Tommy Holland and watches the black smoke drift out of bedroom window. The “ Big Cow” or “Keller’s Cow” was moved to the old farmhouse by her brother Robert Simons shortly after. It was a landmark, something Savannah was known for. Everyone has a memory of the big cow. Ours included camping trips in the rain, and girls running up to the house at two in the morning for our bathroom run. Riding dirt bikes and go-carts. My father-in-law Edward paddled a johnboat around the creek with a broken shovel because we didn’t have a paddle. Her grandson Thomas remembers walking the property with Uncle Robert and two copperheads falling out of a tree right behind them. Thomas ran back to the house to get the truck and his .38 and promptly took care of the snakes, which were still writhing on the ground where they had just walked.

As flames licked the front window, I had pictures of African Violets sitting in a gold plant stand with the sunlight filtering in. The back porch caved and I remember rows of canning jars lining the shelves. The wall in the hallway caved and I recall standing in line for a Thanksgiving feast. The smell just about to drive you mad it was so good. And sitting around while Uncle Clarence he recited the family history and Uncle Tommy snoozed in the recliner.

So our memories must make way for progress and learning. They will live on in our photographs and stories that we pass on to our children. And when we drive by and a new building is there, we will tell them stories of our childhood, how we played in grandma’s living room and now it is now the corner seating of an Applebee’s. We will laugh and think of how funny it really is that because of our willingness to sacrifice a few memories, someone you know could be saved from a fire.

Over six departments ranging from Effingham county to 7th Islands fire department will be trained in one day on this one house. After a rigorous course of NPQ (National Board on Fire Service Professional Qualifications), this training could be the difference for these brave men and women. The training is not easy. Dripping from sweat, sitting in the hot sun, these volunteers give up the time they could be out on their boats catching some rays to be there for you. Next time you hear a siren, think about the hours they put in, the weekends they sacrificed. It might just be you someday. If you are interested in becoming a volunteer firefighter, contact your local fire department.

Springtime in South East Georgia

It is springtime in southeast Georgia, which can only mean one thing - family reunions. As we mourn the passing of Thomas' Grandma Libby we are again reminded why the south can hold it's own in the hospitality industry. In the time of your deepest grief, they are there, casseroles in hand to comfort you. What we would have known as the "Lutheran Basement Ladies" growing up, are known as Baptists in the south. These ladies were a group from the upper mid-west who could feed an army and make them forget their woes in a dish of jello. It started when they would build the foundation for the churches, they would put the kitchen in the basement so the women could feed the workers as the building progressed. They grew such a reputation for their fine cooking that they became known as the "Lutheran Basement Ladies".

Before you have had a chance to digest the last meal, the next gathering is upon you. This family reunion is in Sardis, Georgia across from the old saw mill. It is always the Sunday before Easter. Everyone brings a dish and the kids enjoy an Easter egg hunt. Again, we gorge ourselves until we can barely make the hour and a half ride home without falling asleep. Usually when you think of a family reunion, you think of a gathering of strangers that you don't remember their names, but they are all some sort of cousin. Not true in this family. Not only do we get together twice a year (similar to C+E christians, Christmas and Easter) to spend an entire afternoon together, the same family members try to come, which makes it easy to keep up with who's who.

Life is "A Beautiful Thing"

In our family, we believe that not teaching is dangerous. So, in order to implement this, we like to include our 1 1/2 year old in a lot of the activities that we do.

I was making vegetable soup last night. I had peeled the carrots, chopped the cucumbers and turned my back. Fatal parental mistake. This is when you catch your kids being their truest selves. By the time I turned back to look at Declan had grabbed the of the peeled carrots and was alternating between drumming on the cutting board, taking bites off the ends and singing into the carrots like microphones. I don't remember teaching him this, so I am pretty sure music is his nature.

Today, Declan and I made homemade hot chocolate. He helped measure and stir, I poured the hot water. He would look at me and say "hot?" and I would say "chocolate". Tried to copy saying "Shokulat" and taking a gulp. Then repeat. These are the days I enjoy. The memories I will treasure.

Charity

Consolidating blogs

After much debate, I have decided to consolidate our personal blog with our trip blog. So, for all those trying to keep up, I hope this will make it simpler. You can find us now on this blog at...


www.milesamerica.blogspot.com

Sincerly,

Thomas, Charity & Declan Miles

Day Twelve - Birmingham, AL to HOME!

You may have figured out that we are home already, I am just a little slow at posting our last days. I apologize. So here is the last leg of our journey.

We woke up in sunny 70 degree Birmingham, Alabama. Filled with pre-Christmas traffic from all the shoppers. Finally it was starting to feel like Christmas. We puttered around town, picked up a pizza and nibbled our way to Tannehill Ironworks. Tannehill is a foundry and grist mill that was started about the time of the civil war. It is also the end of the Appalachian Mountains where they work their way down from New Foundland (known as the oldest mountains in North America). How do they figure which mountain is oldest? Do you ask the trees? dunno. The place seemed deserted, and if you listened hard you could hear the fires going, the shouts of soldiers working the forge and the turn of the mill. It was here I was inspired to shoot a new project called "The South". Photos of things that make the south what it is, the history, the people, the future. I am taking requests, so let me know what makes "The South" southern to you.

After walking the trail up to the grist mill, Declan right to sleep riding on my back. We enjoyed the serenity and contemplated the end of our journey. Tonight we would be home. The thought seemed strange. We had been gone almost a month. We missed our dog Murphy, but our house seemed like just stuff. We missed our friends and family terribly and were ready to sleep in our own bed. We were ready to be home. We drove the six hours and pulled into our driveway to our dog that had missed us an awful lot. Declan skipped and skipped through the house, pulling out all his toys and grinning from ear to ear. He knew he was home.