Railroad Days

Hey y'all,

Yesterday was Alberton's annual Railroad Days Festival. We got there in time to see the big parade. There was a woman driving a cart pulled by miniature donkeys, a flatbed filled with women dressed as saloon floozies, assorted grandpas driving their tractors down the middle of the road, and some poor soul dressed as Smokey The Bear likely sweating his butt off on a tailgate. 

I've never been trapped inside a country music video, but I have a pretty good idea what it would feel like.

We ran into Fisher and Cedar and their parents - I mean, what are the odds that - in a town of 400 people - we'd see someone we know?!?

I walked behind Laney and Cedar, who were holding hands, and listened in as Laney conducted what must have been the least informative walking tour in the history of Alberton:

Look, Cedar, there's THAT thing! (pointing to porch railing)

Cedar! Look! There's THIS thing! (pointing to front steps of bar)

Cedar, God bless her, nodded along in agreement: Why, yes! There IS that thing!

There was a small petting zoo set up in the parking lot of the feed store. Whenever I see a petting zoo, I always want to throw open the gate and scream at the animals, "RUN! SAVE YOURSELVES!"

Having a garden this year, your dad and I have spent a lot of time talking about various vegetables and fruits. There are some things he's growing that I've classified as "crazy yankee food," and have no intention of eating. Rhubarb is one of those things. So imagine my dismay when Hagen and I waited patiently in the grass for Dad and Laney to come back with a piece of pie from the Catholic Ladies of Alberton booth, only to discover that they were selling Peach/Rhubarb pie.  I clutched my pearls and told him to take it back and tell them that his southern wife called it an adulteration of everything good and sacred in the world.  Instead, like a reasonable human being, he kept his mouth shut and ate the pie.

A few hours into the festivities, Hagen was tuckered out, so we did some shopping at the Feed Store (spoiler alert: everyone's getting a bale of hay for Christmas!) while Dad and Laney went for a ride in the horse-drawn cart.

On our way back to the car for the ride home, a woman with big bangs passed me as I was holding Hagen. She pointed to him and declared, "That is one cute sack o' taters!!" 

You know what this means? The funniest and most hillbilly thing I have heard all year was said to me not in Georgia, but in Montana. 

Must be the rhubarb.

Love,
Mom