Gentlemen, start your horses. I mean, your engines.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011 at 02:44PM OK so like I told you before, a couple of weeks ago when we were in Georgia to visit Erica, we made it to the Auchumpkee Creek Covered Bridge about ten miles outside of congested Thomaston.
I've seen flashier bridges but this one was interesting enough.
Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood were nowhere to be seen, but then we weren't in Iowa.
Come to think of it, we weren't in a movie. And if you had nothing else for which to be grateful, there was that.
The peace and quiet was lovely. Nary a leaf rustled while we were there and that is the truth.
Cars aren't allowed over the bridge and no horses were waiting to get on either. So no worries.
There was however, the added (and unexpected, though I'm not sure why) blessing of verbiage.
Y'all know how I love words, and what a kick I get out of the inventive ways folks use them.
This was nice: truth in bridge graffiti.
Yes He does. And He loves me too.
I hope the writer of this next bit gets a couple of H's for Christmas. Or maybe a spelling primer.
In exchange for the H's we'll have to take away an E. Because I do believe he meant to express this worthy sentiment: Southern Born And Southern Bred.
(To which I would have added, along with an amen: And When I Die I'll Be Southern Dead.)
Way to enforce the stereotype of Southerners as brain trusts, dude. We do so appreciate it.
Then there was this complicated bit of business:
I do believe I'll reserve commentary except to say I sure hope Mary, Steve, and Elaine have a very merry and love-filled Christmas.
Affairs of the heart and all that. Sticky wicket.
Garaging the snarkmobile as we speak.
Guess where we went next?
Atlanta Motor Speedway. In Hampton, Georgia.
We're not NASCAR enthusiasts but we passed the racetrack on the way back to McDonough and it's very impressive.
Actually I couldn't get pictures of anything until a nice gentleman in a big red truck came alongside our car and escorted us to higher ground.
LSU fan. Good man. Originally from Slidell, Louisiana, where resides one of my beloved uncles (not Deauxdie Dodie Dody; the other one).
Our kind friend was there to turn on the Christmas light display. Soon, at dark, carloads of families would arrive to cruise around the immense property, ooohing and aaaahing.
After schmoozing for awhile we went to the gift shop, which was open for the evening due to the Christmas-light lookers.
Outside the shop there was the Petty Garden.
Again I'm not a NASCAR fan, but I recognized the name Richard Petty.
I loved the bronze sculpture of RP with a little girl asking for his autograph.
You would have too.
The folks in the gift shop, a man and a lady, were real nice and we bought a present for one of our kids.
The lady, a lifelong stock car racing enthusiast, told us she cries every time the gentlemen start their engines.
Powerful stuff.
Even so, we couldn't get back to McDonough fast enough.
And that is all for now.
Merry Christmas!
Reader Comments (8)
I love the shots of the bridge, especially the shot of the chain near it. Atlanta motor speedway is cool too and that statue is so sweet!
I love covered bridges, and the Soutern "Breed" has my brain scrambled, but I'm really mulling over Mary, Steve, and Elaine??? And, as usual anything you "shoot" with your camera is marvelous!
Elaine is their daughter.
Hahahaha!
@Mari ... it was all lots of fun. I'm glad we got to see those things.
@Glenda ... the amazing thing is, I think the same person wrote those things. Look at the handwriting!
@Hobbit ... girl back away from whatever it is you're ingesting. You are beginning to make sense and it scares me.
Love the photos Jenny! And I think "Mary" added her name after Steve & Elaine left the scene!Hahaaa...different ink.
The chain is super cool! Enjoy the evening friend!
hughugs
Boy Steve and Elaine and Mary really made us put on our CSI hats. Love your bridge shots and your delightful story. Merry Christmas to you as well.
Nice pictures of the bridge and graffiti. You can make anything look interesting. I notice how old and cracked the wood on the bridge is.