Nothing to see here

Since I started using Flickr, I've really not had much use for a photoblog. So, head on over to where the good stuff is.

Family day out

My parents came to visit for the day. We went out to eat, my mom and I got a little drunk on some wine, and we tooled around downtown and Mud Island for an afternoon. The weather was gorgeous and everyone was in a good mood. Perfection!


These are my folks: Steve and Fran. He likes NASCAR and her favorite color is green.


This is a statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest and his horse and his horse's giant genitalia.


Someone scrawled his or her feelings regarding Mr. Forrest on the base of the monument.


Inside a steamboat replica.


Coming up to the captain's steering room. Or whatever it's called.


This is a topographically accurate concrete replica of the Mississippi River. Wheee!


My 'hood, in concrete-and-metal relief.


Me and dad.


Heh.

More photos here.

Cannons-boro

Before there was Murfreesboro, there was Cannonsburgh, a settlement named for Newton Cannon, the first Whig governor of Tennessee.

Murfreesboro houses a small tourist trap called Cannonsburgh Village that's a small replica of the original settlement. During the 4.5 years I lived in Murfreesboro, I never once visited the place.

I remedied that recently.


Welcome to a little slice of pioneer heaven.


Bridge over complacent water.


It's always odd to see 1800s buildings beneath a canopy of electrical wires.


The windmill's shadow, as noticed by Phil.


The windmill in its backlit glory.


No idea what this is.


I can say with confidence that this is a wagon wheel.


Another wheel.


Had I been alive during the 1800s, I would have lost all my limbs for sure.


I can't help but be grateful for the sterility of modern doctors' offices.



This doctor's office is a little creepy.


Horse pills for people.



This is what people think about when they think about Cannonsburgh. Unless they think of the poor bucket.


It would be sort of nice if this thing was on a real creek or river or whatever so that it worked.


Some magnificent moron torched the World's Largest Cedar Bucket last summer, and the poor thing sits charred and lonely behind the confines of a metal fence.


For the whole family.


I'm all turned around!


Yes, photo subject double-dipping.


This little guy was tired.


Capt. Phil.

King day

The line was really, really long. We waited for probably an hour to get in the museum, and took about three hours inside, and that's not counting the last half of the tour, across the street, which we sat out because it was rainy and late and we hadn't eaten and Joey and Marie had to drive back to Murfreesboro.


The Lorraine Motel.


The balcony where Martin Luther King Jr. was shot and killed.


Some woman is protesting the museum because she says it desecrates the memory of Martin Luther King Jr. I don't get it, either, but she's been protesting for more than 18 years. I'm not sure if she's even in this picture, but her camp is.


Brandon, Marie, Joey.


I'm not Native American and he's not Jewish, so quit asking.


Marie and Brandon.

An afternoon with the nephews

As soon as Casey saw me get my camera out of my purse, he came running so he wouldn't miss out. Patrick, meanwhile, just posed as a homicidal maniac.


Patrick tried his best to kill the shrub.


I don't know if you can make it out, but the best part of the photo is the orange Kool-Aid mustache.


Oh, cute.


Casey, waiting on the trolley. See that fabulously spiky hair? He did that himself, using my hair gel.


Patrick, up close and personal.


A view from the trolley.


Patrick peeking.


The Pyramid.


Another of The Pyramid.


Under the overpasses.


Patrick, stretching out.


At the zoo, checking out this ape that was whooping it up.


He looks like he's about to head out on safari or something.


Nap time for the killer.

Modest matrimony

My sister Krissie married Keith White on Oct. 8. It was a small gathering of family and friends at my family's church, Saltillo United Methodist. I was the maid of honor, so I didn't get to take any pictures during the ceremony, just before and after. So, without further ado, Wedding Mania '05.


The entrance.


Casey, waiting for his mom to come outside and prepare to walk the aisle. He and Patrick, instead of my dad, gave her away. It was really sweet.


Patrick and his cousin (?) Dylan (?) waiting for the ceremony to start.


This was taken after the ceremony, while everyone was taking pictures in front of the altar. The flower petals were dropped by my sister's step-granddaughters, one of whom ran out of petals halfway down the aisle and ran back in embarrassment. I'm not really sure whose shoe that is.


I wish this one wasn't so blurry, but all my photos are blurry. Anyway, I think it's cute because my sister is covering her mouth so she's probably laughing at something inappropriate.


My dad cozied up to the radio to eat his reception food so he could hear the UT game. They lost, but it didn't really dampen his spirits, as you'll see later.


Cutting the cake. No cake was forcefully crammed into any mouths, surprisingly enough.


My brother made up a little tune he called "The Wedding Song," and my dad wandered in and made up a little dance for it. It was hilarious. I'm not sure if the hilarity translates in these photos. Just trust me.


It reminded me so much of David Brent's improvised dance, only my dad's dance wasn't horrifying and embarrassing and we were laughing.


Hee.


Still not sure whose shoe that was.


Birdseed to hurl at the happy couple. My sister got off a lot lighter than at her last wedding, where we pelted the couple with rice and sprayed them with SuperSoakers. We had also piled baby powder in front of the car's vents (it was June, so the AC came on and poofed it in their faces) and we tied cans to the bumper and wrote all over the windows. Oh yeah, and we greased the door handles.


This time around, no one had come prepared to vandalize their truck, so as the couple was getting ready to come outside to leave, my brother went next door to the convenience store and bought some shoe polish. As he was writing all over the truck, they came outside and caught us cheering Evan's vandalism on. That's when we pelted them with birdseed and they sped off into the night.

What I miss the most

The weekend in Nashville/Red Boiling Springs/Murfreesboro was nothing short of fabulous. These aren't all the photos, of course, and if any of you want copies of these, let me know and I'll send you larger files or photos that aren't included here. Somehow, however, I managed to not snap a single picture of Amanda or Adam, though I remember stumbling out onto the smokers' porch to do just that. How did that happen? How will Amanda and Adam prove that they weren't at the scene of some crime when the cops force them to provide an alibi for the night of Oct. 1? HOW?


Quite a crowd at the Vandy-MT game. I inadvertantly hit old people in the head with my purse so many times they I began to suspect I was doing it on purpose.


The Band of Blue, playing a Lionel Richie song.


Amber and Robert E. Lee—I mean Patrick.


She's crushing him!


The lads from Hendersonville.


$5 funnel cakes.


Kristin and Nick.


Kristin and Amber.




Chad and Cox.


Winning rules, as we found out.


Weee! Winning.


Donkey noises?


Aw, Cox and Amber.


Wendy, preparing to nap?


Chad, preparing to continue napping.


Joey, giving me a go to hell look.


The fabulous Nashville skyline.


Amber snuck that sign in inside her purse despite a ban on all large items and signs, and it gave at least a few onlookers a thrill.


Amber and her dad, who hid his sheer amazement at the cleverness of her sign.


Two football games in two days is quite the record for me.


Piles of smiles.


The birds, they are flying.


So long, Nashville. I'll be back for my heart later.