Two Weeks in Atlanta
Ah – there is a huge rain storm pelting Atlanta right now. The fog and storm is so thick I can’t even see out of my window to the house across the street.
Tomorrow I start work! That means that today I want to give you all on update on how I have been entertaining myself since moving in.
DeKalb Farmer’s Market
Oh, man. This place is incredible. I have been enjoying picking out ingredients at random then trying to figure out how to turn them into meals when I get home.
During one trip to the DeKalb Farmer’s Market, I noticed that they were selling ground chicory and decided to give it a try. Eugh. Turns out the only way to make chicory palatable is to pour it down the drain…and refill the cup with coffee. From coffee plants.
Arabia Mountain
I spent a great afternoon exploring this wild moonscape just outside Atlanta. The “mountain” is a huge outcropping of granite that’s covered in lichen, moss, and tiny flowers.
Beltline Hike
Yesterday I went on a seven-mile hike around the North Western section of Atlanta’s Beltline project. 
The beltline is an awesome initiative to connect Atlanta communities through a light rail network. As the project gets underway, there’s some nice hiking along the abandoned rails that are going to be used…and along some not-so-abandoned rails. It was a fun chance to see Atlanta from a totally different perspective and meet a really cool group of people.
D.M.V.
I have spent countless hours trying to get a Georgia driver’s license and to register my car. The DMVs here are more surreal than most – which is saying something. They are all run like poorly organized (and needlessly popular) delis. Take a number. Wait for a few hours. Most recently I went to get tags for my car and found the waiting room had pews in place of chairs. Oh, Georgia, did you really rob a church to furnish a government office?
Met my neighbors
One of my neighbors is an obese and nimble cat named Ralph. Here, Ralph attempts to sneak through our cat door to steal our cat’s food. (He does this all day, every day. He is often successful.)

Two of my favorite tales of my human neighbors should give you some sense of the community. (I would not characterize it, generally, as a community where people slip through the cat door to steal food, so I feel obliged to go on):
Once, I looked up from a desk where I was writing and saw a little boy playing in our yard. He was about four years old, had no parent with him, and was consumed with the concerns of his imaginary world. He went poking around the yard, finding leaves, playing in puddles, and generally amusing his adorable self.
A few days later I came out of my front door and found that my neighbor from across the street was sitting in one of our porch chairs, reading the paper. “Good morning,” she said. “Your porch gets more light at this time of day.”




