Sunday, December 9, 2012

Fall and Fa la la la la

I've been busy. I miss blogging. I can do it all, right? I'm going to try.

Though I have so many things to say, I have no words left in me right now. I think I'll fill you in on the last 4 months in pictures... mmmkay?
AP Terms...
Random:Cars with eyelashes? 
This seems like really old news now.
We celebrated Thanksgiving with special family members!
Let the Christmas season begin...
Until next time...

Tuesday, August 21, 2012


Yesterday, I kept reading tweets and statuses about friends sending their little ones on the first day of school. There were updates about happy tears, sad tears and mostly happy children excited to embark on this new journey of their lives.

It’s been a long time since I had my very first day of school. Don’t worry; I remember it.There were jelly shoes involved. I remember all the happy days of going to school, and I remember the days of tummy aches, bullies and insecurities. All of those days play in my mind like film negatives. Very small, slightly blurred snapshots of my life.

Not only did those stories make me think of my school days, but of the different role I play now. I sometimes think—and I think other teachers have this same disillusioned thought—that we are the zookeepers. We have to keep the students in bounds. We’re there to make the students do really hard stuff. They need to learn. They need to be quiet. They need to remember how to open their lockers.

We forget that they are people. They may be small or really tall, but they’re just little people. They have feelings—no matter how tough their outer shell. Yes, they need to learn responsibility and MLA format and how to open their lockers, but they also need to learn compassion, love, and how to help a neighbor. We’re there to teach them those qualities too. We might be the only example they see. We just don’t know.

It’s exciting to see those updates about very first days of school, but as high school teachers we need to remember that the 10th first day of school, the11th first day of school, and the 12th first day of school are still firsts. There are still things to learn. There are still mistakes to be made.There are still examples to be set. There are still relationships to build.

Start building.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Anecdote One

Today was the first day of school. It was the best first day of school I could have hoped for. I loved seeing my students from last year. They’re seniors now and clearly rule the school. I enjoyed meeting a whole new set of students—9th graders and 11th graders. I genuinely feel like it’s going to be a good year.

As most teachers do, I had my students fill out a survey about themselves so I could get to know them better. One of the questions I asked was, “how much time do you spend on social media: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, etc. ?”

One 9th grader raised his hand and asked, “What is Pinterest?”

I explained.

Then a classmate chimed in, “Oh yeah, my mom uses that.”


I’m officially old.

Monday, August 13, 2012

Today Is A New Day


I go back to school today. There’s still a week before the students show up, but this is a week full of anticipation, meetings, planning and organizing. It’s always bittersweet—the end of those long, lovely summer haze days. Then there is the smell of sharpened wooden pencils, the crisp paper to be copied, and the books—so many books waiting for someone to love them.

I’ve spent more time than I should admit in the past week dreading the early mornings and PB&Js every day. Then I saw this little Winnie the Pooh snippet.  This day is good. This day means I have a job. This day means I have the chance to make a difference in many lives—not just a few. Those are opportunities that most people just don’t get. I’m lucky.

You’ll hear me grumble through this year. I will vent to other teachers. I will likely say a choice word or two on the way home from school. I’ll fall asleep grading papers and wake up far too early in the morning, and at the end of the year I’ll be able to look back and see that the year was not spent in vain. That the time was spent doing the best I could to contribute in the way I can. That’s okay with me, so today will be my favorite day all year.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Summer Recap

People—I start back to school on Monday. That’s in 6 days. What did I do this summer? Where did the time go? Every summer I feel the same way—like I didn’t do enough. I wasted too much time, watched too much trash TV, didn’t complete enough projects. Basically the end of summer makes me feel like a complete failure. I know that’s ridiculous, but that feeling creeps in every year. What do I do when I feel this way? I make a list and eat chocolate, obviously.

Those two are the best.

Bryant and I went to Kansas to celebrate the wedding of friends.
Kansas Bear
We celebrated our 6th year of marriage.

I hung out with the fam.
Dad takes s’mores very seriously.

We celebrated Bryant’s 30th birthday.

I painted our bedroom.
It’s so much better, right. Maybe I’ll take some non-iphone pics to share one day.

I spent a week in Tuscaloosa training for teaching AP classes.

I went to Hilton Head and Savannah with my mom and sisters.
HIlton head marsh

My mom and sisters came up for a quick end of summer visit.
We did what we do best: shop for books and hide in the brush while waiting for a table at dinner.

I know the month just started, but I wanted to list what I’ve done so far.
Thanks to E posting this tutorial I achieved my goal of making a quilt this summer!

I started a book club in my community.

I suppose I didn’t squander away the free time too much. It was a really great summer. I just want to do it all over again.

Thursday, August 2, 2012


There is a little known fact about me: I love ballet. I’m a sucker for it. The slippers, tights, and tutus just make me happy.

There is also a well know fact about me: I don’t dance. You won’t catch me doing the Cha Cha Slide at your wedding. I feel ridiculously silly. I envy all of you who bust a move on the dance floor, but I just can’t work up the nerve to do it.

Even though you won’t catch me under the disco ball, ballet has always held a warm fuzzy spot in my heart. I, like most young girls, enrolled in ballet class. I kept up with it on and off through junior high. I even spent a year or so en pointe. Then I became the most sarcastic cheerleader known to man—that’s a story for a different day. I loved the Angelina Ballerina books. Loved. Those. Books.

The point of this is that when I saw that ABC Family was airing a show called Bunheads this summer, I was excited. Then I discovered that the show was created by Amy Sherman-Palladino, and I nearly died with joy. She created Gilmore Girls. I love Gilmore Girls. There are very few shows written with such quick wit, whimsy, drama, and interestingly developed characters. I have watched all of the episodes of Gilmore Girls more times than I should admit. They never get old. There is always something new to discover, and I love that. Bryant skulks around calling them the gabmore girls and pretends that he hates it, but he usually sits down and says, “Oh, is this the episode when….” Yep, caught. Deep down he knows it’s some good stuff.

Anyway, the show has not disappointed. Many actors from Gilmore Girls have reappeared as very different characters—which I like. The characters are developing as quirky and idiosyncratic. The writing is close to as quick as that in Gilmore Girls and the humor is never lacking.

Moral of the story:

I like ballet; I don’t dance at weddings (I do dance in the mirror when I brush my teeth); I love Gilmore Girls; I really like Bunheads; My husband secretly likes Gilmore Girls, and Angelina Ballerina will forever be my mouse hero.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

I Party with Jay Gatsby

I’ve been eyeing goods via Pinterest with that catchphrase, and I love Gatsby.
Does this song remind anyone else of The Great Gatsby. I think it would be great to teach alongside the book.

Okay—enough teacher time. The point of this post is that I started a book club in my community. I’ve wanted to do this for a while. When I was in grad school, a bunch of us tried and failed, but we were in school. We had plenty to read and discuss with one another. I took a leap of faith this time and posted the idea on my neighborhood Facebook page and the response was positive. We had our first (small) meeting last night to decide on a book for the first month. I can’t wait.

book club profile pic
(some books at my parents' house)

I’ve always been a reader. I seriously don’t remember a time without books or reading or stories. It just didn’t exist in my world. I don’t even remember learning to read. It just happened; I think. Growing up the house was always filled with books. They had a hard time keeping me from the books that I was too young to read. The first good murder mystery books I read were from sneaking into the bathroom to read whatever book Dad had left in there. I was a member of the Babysitter’s Club. I lived through the Civil War with Scarlett and Rhett. I traveled the world reading the mysterious romances of Victoria Holt. I discovered the existential crisis with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. I was indignant alongside Guy Montag.

Lately I’ve had an issue with reading, I keep stopping mid book to read another book and then I don’t finish. I’ve never faced this problem before. I think I feel that my free time is so short that I am trying to cram too much in it. That issue and the idea of meeting new people in my community lead me to start this club. I’m really looking forward to sharing something I love so much with others who also love books.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

It’s Like Molasses…

Last week I got to take a trip with my mom and sisters to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. I hadn’t been in 9 years! 9 years! There are very few things I can say I haven’t done in 9 years…That’s a long time. My family spent several New Year’s Eve celebrations and summer vacations in Hilton Head; that place holds so many memories.
It’s the place we survived Y2K (the resort provided us with a flashlight-just in case-that year). It’s the place as teenagers my sister and our friends watched MTV and sang Dave Matthew’s “When the World Ends” at the top of our lungs. It’s the place we giggled sliding down the slide in the pool. It’s the place Dad drove the mini van under the parking garage with the “walrus”(one of those hard storage bins that attaches to the top of cars) still on the van. It didn’t exactly fit. Oops. It’s the place we sat around a campfire singing “Do Your Ears Hang Low”, while I sat awkwardly with a mouthful of braces. It’s the place Dad taught us how to play pool and ping pong.



On the way home we had to spend a little time in Savannah. I love the history of old southern cities. The streets are steaming with stories to tell. We took a  trolley tour and sweated nearly to death, but it was fun.
These two are the funniest people I know. It’s like an improv show every second of every day.

The childhood home of Flannery O’Connor-I freaked a little.

We had a great time and couldn’t stop reciting this scene from The Office.

Summer is quickly coming to an end, but I can't help but stop and think how thankful I am for all of the fun it has held for me this year. I've spent time with friends and family, traveled to new places and to old favorites. I've laughed a lot. 

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Fortune Forecast—Lucky Stars…

I kept a real pen and paper journal for most of my teenage years. Most nights before bed I would snuggle in my bed and write down the happenings of the day or week or month. I would like to say that I’ve found them all and read my eloquent teenage words that should have labeled me child prodigy. I can’t. A few weeks ago I found a couple of them at my parents’ house and brought them home with me. I read through them today. Most of the entries read like this, “OMG. Billy is mad at Susie because Susie went to the mall with me instead of to the movies with him, but she had gone to the movies with him like 7 times this month and to the mall with me only like 3 times this month. I wish I could drive. I wonder what we’re going to do this weekend. I’m bored.”

The trifles of my teenage hood are really disgusting and trite. There were no great revelations. The most it would seem I learned from my experiences in those years is based on internet searches from quotations about friendship and little poems about how friends are forever.

Then there are the entries that are surprisingly prophetic. The entry written on October 7, 2002 states, “ I’ve been accepted to The University of Alabama!…It is so exciting, but it’s kinda like WHOA! major reality check, I’m going to college! It’s like the first step to making my life happen! My dream right now is to graduate from Alabama…get my master’s degree…then maybe move closer to home like in Birmingham.”
It’s weird. It’s exactly what happened. Some of the details I left out here were incorrect, but the main thoughts actually happened. I suppose that means I made my dreams come true. They happened. It’s possible. I don’t mean to say that all of my dreams have come true by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s exciting to look back at my 17 year old dreams and see that they’ve come to fruition.

A few other funny insights in hindsight that I found tucked in that journal: I found a copy of Robert Frost’s poem “Mending Wall.” This blog is named after that poem. It’s funny to think that the last real journal I ever kept had a little key to a different kind of journal I would keep in the future. It’s like Doc Brown placed it there himself. Even though I hope I do more than record the details of each day, I guess I’m not as different now as I would like to think. IMG_0803[1]

Friday, July 6, 2012

Pellet Guns, Axes, and Thread

When I was a kid, my parents would drop my sisters and me off at my grandmother’s house while they went out on dates. We called her Memaw. She lived in a small white house surrounded by trailers, woods, and a gravely road. My grandfather, whom I never knew, built that house. She kept a pellet gun beside her front door—for cats and squirrels. On the other side of the door was a gigantic deep freezer that I used to sit on and climb on to look in. She froze everything.

She had a screened in porch with a swing. She had a little pre-made red barn where she kept her prized lawn mower and tiny axes. We didn’t get to stay at her house quite as much after my parents came back to find their two small daughters holding tiny axes and hacking away at the fig trees in the front yard. The best fig preserves were made from those trees.

She had real wood floors and a room with a loose board. There were treasures underneath—marble bags, little tools, some small toys. That same room held her sewing machine. It was an old Singer built into a sewing table. It was metal and thick and heavy and real. I couldn’t lift it out of the table when I first wanted to learn. The table had the smallest drawers with wooden round knobs that held scissors and thread and zippers and ric rac. The closet in the room had an unpainted wood door. There was a shoe rack attached to the back that I’m certain was never full, but I remember thinking that those shoes were so special. They must have been fancy because she almost always wore white Keds.They were so valuable hanging there to be worn for important events. She had a few “suits” in that closet. She called all of her outfits “suits.” There was also a white garbage bag that we would drag out of that closet when we wanted to sew. It was full of fabric scraps of varied patterns and sizes. I can smell it—all closet heat wrapped in plastic like an antique store. She always let us pick our fabric and our projects. One day I blushed and my heart beat a little too fast and I asked her to sew me a bra. She did. She taught me to sew the clasps in the back and the elastic around the band. We mostly made doll clothes and pillows and bags.

Even though our projects were not huge, she always let me thread the machine. She taught me how to sew a straight line and clip the corners of a pillow so it would “turn out.” It was a thrill to get to run the foot pedal and hear the noise of the machine like a little train full of thread.

A few weeks ago my sister asked me to teach her how to sew. I knew I had big shoes to fill. I bought a new Singer after Memaw died. Even though I hadn’t used one in years, I didn’t want to forget. It was a piece of her I couldn’t lose. So my sister and I sat at the machine. She watched me wind the bobbin, thread the machine, and sew a few stitches. Then she took over like she had been born with a needle in her hand. We made some new pillow covers for our parents’ couches. Daddy kept walking through the room with a smile. He said he knew Memaw was smiling somewhere. She had to be.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

I'm starting to feel the lazy days of summer creeping in.

It's nice.
It's the smell of watermelon, lightning bugs, naps, sweat, and feet in the pool. It's the joy of books, and blogs, and poetry. It's mouth-watering of grilled meats and gooey sweets. It's the dogs panting and wagging their tails; it's the haze that hangs over everything; it's the gypsy spirit dancing around in my brain.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Everything’s Up to Date in Kansas City

PicMonkey Collage
This weekend was another whirlwind of travel. Whew! I’m feeling like the blur again. After a couple of days of recuperating at home from my favorite trip to Disney, Bryant and I headed off to Kansas City, Missouri. Neither of us had ever been to Missouri or Kansas, so I guess we’ve checked those two off the list. Some friends of ours got married in Baldwin City, Kansas. They have one stop light and one motel and one pretty little chapel to get married in on Baker University’s campus. It was a simple, beautiful ceremony. I think the bride and groom had a great time and enjoyed spending the weekend with friends and family.
We spent Sunday in Kansas City exploring the barbeque (I didn’t notice a big difference from good ol’ Alabama barbeque, but whatever.), a great art museum, and some really cool architecture in the city. Monday was our 6th wedding anniversary, so we celebrated on Sunday as part of our trip. It was fun exploring a new place and new part of the country together. I have to say we were glad to be home and didn’t do much yesterday, but we had a great celebration weekend!

Monday, June 25, 2012

20 Items for You

There is a seriously great giveaway over at Living in Yellow! You have a chance to win ALL twenty items! Did you hear that? Twenty! Go enter now! 

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Freaks and Geeks

Last week I let my freak flag fly. I do it about once a year. Here’s the confession. I am a Disney freak. My mom, dad, and sisters are also Disney freaks. We spent last week in “The World.” There are a lot of people who don’t understand why we still go—we’re all adults. We’ve taken some serious verbal beatings over the years. You know what—it doesn’t matter. We love Walt. We love the Mouse. We love each other. This is where we go to relax and enjoy one week together every year. It’s a blast—don’t hate.

Those are my adorable parents. They’ve been married for almost 31 years, and they are the sweetest, most sarcastic, and beautifully happy people I know. I’m seriously thankful every day for them. My mom’s family started the Disney freak business, and these two solidified it. They started taking us when I was 4; I think. It has truly become the place we go to relax and breathe a little. It’s not about the rides, or the food, or the heat, or the crowds; It’s just about us.

Our favorite resort is Disney’s Wilderness Lodge. We’re really not all that rustic, but we love that place. It’s cozy and warm and smells good and is filled with adventurous music and life. There is literally water moving through the lobby.

Those are some happy faces.

Even if you’re rolling your eyes at my sappy “I love my family and my family loves Disney” talk, you can’t deny that that treat doesn’t look tempting. It’s Disney’s Beach Club resort’s Everything and the Kitchen Sink ice cream. We’re talking vanilla, strawberry, coffee, mint chocolate chip, and chocolate ice cream. We’re talking brownies, yellow cake, Oreos, bananas, chocolate syrup, peanut butter, caramel syrup and sprinkles. We’re talking an entire can of whipped cream. That’s right people. You can’t get this anywhere else. It’s genius and so much fun! You know you want one!

Hey, I know that guy! He showed up for the last few days of the trip. Guess what—he thinks we’re freaks, but look who’s wearing the Mickey t-shirt.

We might be freaks or geeks or just plain nuts, but you know what? I don’t care. I love it.

Monday, June 11, 2012

When You Marry in June- Part 2

We dated. I guess it’s the only time in my life I’ve dated. I hope it’s the only time I’ll ever have to. It took about six months before we were a real couple. In my mind we were from that first date. He had other priorities at first. Football, friends, duck hunting all took precedent. I must have been a pretty scary prospect. It just took a little time and a mad case of homesickness to win him over completely. I was sick, so sick for home that I almost packed my bags. We were at a friend’s apartment watching Scarface when I told him I was thinking of leaving. It wasn’t long after that that things changed. We were together. I didn’t go home again. I stayed in school all summer every year.

December 6, 2005
He proposed. There was a Christmas celebration/festival going on and he was showing some of his art at a fellow artist’s gallery. He bugged me all day to get there on time after work. I did. A family of violinists was playing, his artwork was all around, and a suspicious number of our friends appeared. The gallery owner welcomed the crowd and introduced Bryant as the featured artist. Bryant took the mic and called me up to the front of the room. I was shaking. He proposed. I said yes. He did kiss me.
After the shock wore off and reality set in we started planning a wedding – a task not meant for me. I don’t particularly care for weddings. I’m weird like that. Don’t hate.

June 25, 2006
If it weren’t for my mom, there wouldn’t have been much of a wedding. She did a beautiful job planning a perfect hometown wedding. We had family and friends from childhood surrounding us on that special day. It was simple, there was good food, and time to chat and catch up with so many visitors. I look back on that day with nothing but fondness. The moments I spent with my dad just before walking down the aisle are etched in my memory forever. The relief my mom felt when the whole event was over I can still feel in her hugs. My sweet sisters stood beside me, even though my youngest sister was admittedly a giant ball of nerves. My middle sister strapped my shoes on my feet when I couldn’t reach them. My darling friends hugged me in support and pride and defended me when things didn’t go my way that day.
It was a great start to our lives together. It was nothing but celebratory. It was nothing but perfect for us.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Perennial Poesy

 Southern Heat and Little Laughs

I am burning like a wick beneath fiery heat.
still dressed to a tea despite the temperature. A southern
tradition to shade with a parasol keeping wet
the sweet lips of a belle. Hiding my skin from the sun
burn to keep the buttermilk skin of my mother.
Melting still, the wick is short and I sweat.

Remembering puckered lemonade lips of childhood sweat
and summer grass playing outside. Heat
demolished by the refreshment my hero-my mother
brings. Her soft curly red hair shining southern
comfort under the intoxicating glow of the sun.
Frozen ice, pure liquid of sour descent all wet.

Exhaustion full of energy from a day wet
with the chlorine smell of little prune fingers not sweaty
because of the chemical clean water sun-
warmed, and immersed my body without heat
enjoys the scalding protection of a southern
summer swim with sisters, mother,

and my daddy, loving, working, giving for mother
and all. Today we splash together faces wet
with water, ice cream, sweet tea a southern
treat. Then again, returning heat and sweat
drips and drops bodily rain in the heat;
to cool we splish until the sun

is gone and the moon appears to replace the sun.
Resisting leg-jumping sleep, Mother
reads to my sleepy eyes and my sisters. We rest in heat-
induced slumber. Little backs still hot and wet,
toss and turn all night under fanned sweat.
Up, growing in the summertime of a little southern

belle; sitting pretty in the lap of southern
souls that live and breathe the thick sun.
Thriving, loving, abiding by the salty sweat
that girls wipe gently away from their brows because Mother
said so. Mama’s sweet kisses leave Daddy’s cheek wet
even by the shivering fireplaces unused in the heat.

Eras I sweat and glow in the southern
heat and fantastic round sun. While my
Mother laughs and squeaks wetness from her eyes.
Originally written September 2005

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Etsy Love

Have you guys seen Flightless Bird Design on Etsy? Seriously cool shop, people. Shop owner Amanda has been sweet enough to offer my readers 15% off of merchandise from her shop.
Her style is eclectic and whimsical-- my favorite.
ballon earrings
How cute are these? I might have to have these for my impending trip to Kansas. They’re very Wizard of Oz; don’t you think?
Mermaid print
Look at the incredible detail in this original print! It’s fabulous. I love supporting the arts, and there is no denying that this is an excellent piece. I might have to have this for my house. The mermaid’s “wavy” hair is my favorite.
boat tea wallet
In keeping with the nautical theme, how cute is this little tea wallet? You can keep your tea to go in this cutie, but I can think of tons of other things to keep in there. It would be great for travel this summer!
Okay readers, go check out the shop and don’t forget to use the code Neighbors15 for 15% off.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

When You Marry in June

Six years ago this month Bryant and I tied the knot. I’d like to tell you we had a whirlwind romance, kissed each other with a smile each day, and held hands while walking through the grocery store. That would be a lie. It would also be a lie to tell you that I’m not nervous about sharing this with you. Three people could read this or three million. I don’t know how many will, but honesty isn’t easy. I don’t know where to start other than the beginning, so here goes.

August 22, 2003
I was eighteen years old with more brain cells in cryogenic sleep than I care to admit. I had just moved into my freshman dorm. Yes, you U of A people, I survived Tutwiler. The tradition of sorority rush had finally ended. I had been given a bid to a good sorority, and I was mingling at the bid day party at the Mellow Mushroom. When a girl I had become “friends” with introduced me to a cute guy with a mouth full of braces named Bryant. We chatted about where we were born, our love for DMB, art, and I don’t remember what else. I didn’t think too much about it, and I gave him my phone number. (I suppose napping brain cells work out sometimes.)
The next day he called me and asked me out for dinner. We had Italian food. He asked the blessing. I liked it. He didn’t kiss me.

Sunday morning rolled around with thoughts of that fella filling my brain. I went to church with my one friend from high school that took the road less traveled. (I grew up just outside of Auburn, Alabama. Most people transition easily to college life basically in their hometown. I’ve never done much the easy way.) We drove to a big, white, terrifying church. We walked in and sat together. He was there – the one who had asked the blessing.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

I Love Cheese

I am by no means a good cook. In fact, I hate cooking. It is the bane of my existence. There I said it.
Despite my distaste for the culinary arts, one dish I can manage is simple, southern, and summery-pimento cheese. My mom has been a fan for as long as I can remember, and I've grown to love the deliciousness as well. Okay here's how to make it. Don't worry this will be very scientific and specific.
2 cups of shredded sharp cheddar cheese
Fat free mayo
1 small jar of pimentos 

Drain the pimentos; dump them in a chopper thingy (I told you very scientific.); add the cheese, drop a couple of spoonfuls of mayo and press the go button on the chopper thingy. 
Chop away until the consistency looks good to you. Some people like it chunky. I prefer smooth. 

Eat it on a sandwich, crackers, straight from the spoon-whatever tickles your fancy. 

Monday, June 4, 2012

Summer Dress

Summer Dress
I want to wear this every day this summer, and I probably will. I'm kidding. I'll mostly wear gym shorts and the biggest, oldest t-shirt I can find. I would look better if I wore this, but who wants to get dressed when you don't have to? 

Bryant will wear this every day.

Bryant on the phone
I hope he doesn't wear these every day. They scare me. 

toe shoes

Happy Monday. I'm going to go forget that it's Monday and pretend it's some other day because I can. I love summer vacation!

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Saturday at Pepper Place

Birmingham has a great farmer's market. I've lived nearby for 5 years, so it's really sad to say that today was the first day I ventured downtown to visit Pepper Place. The market did not disappoint. Bryant and I were both impressed and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. It was so nice to get out of the 'burbs and do something fun.


Dr. Pepper Sign
This explains the title Pepper Place.

I love that it says, "A.S.A.P. as southern as possible." 

Speaking of A.S.A.P. aren't these beautiful?

There were such beautiful things for sale. 

Sloss Furnace
It was interesting to find this smack in the middle of downtown. Old railroad ties in piles beside the road and field we parked in. Yes, field and downtown said in the same breath.

My only purchase was an old record hand painted by an Alabama artist. She had an array of items for sale. 



This is the one I came home with. You can find the artist here