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.