The in-laws were in town last week to pick up some muscadine vines for their vineyard. No, they're not the snooty California wine types, just good old fashioned, down to earth kinfolk who happen to own and operate their own winery in middle Tennessee. If you don't believe me, then see for yourself here.
Anywho... the nursery we were getting the vines from was only about an hour from us, according to Google Maps, which is a filthy rotten liar. We ended up lost for over an hour without cell phone service with Ella in tears screaming over and over, "I want Daddy!". Jack, on the other hand, would occasionally wake up from his slumber and announce, "This is fun!", pull out a fist full of Ella's red hair, and then doze back off.
And then something wonderful happened. We happened across the oldest covered bridge in Georgia. Built across the red oak creek in 1840 and held together by wooden pegs, it is still open to traffic to this day. And it is covered in graffiti. Bad graffiti. Misspelled graffiti. It's such a shame that people with nothing to say would defile such a landmark. Why not just start a blog, like me?
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Driving Me Crazy
11 years ago
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