But, Mom and Dad were driving down and were interested in stopping at the Agrirama in Tifton. It is only about 40 miles north on the interstate - but I am not ready for the interstate. 70 miles an hour is terrifying - sorry. But, the old standby, the road that my Grandma took from Kentucky to Florida back in the day; well, it is still very much alive and in use. Hwy 41. The speed limit drops to 35 in every little burg, and there are stoplights all along the way, so 40 miles seems a lot longer that way. But it also winds through some beautiful farm country with tobacco, cotton, corn and pine trees swaying in the breeze.
I have passed through all these counties before, multiple times between home and "home". But I have never noticed the county line signs before. I have never heard the names of most of the tiny little towns, and never would have known they existed. But on Saturday I drove through them, slightly stressed, but mostly proud. I appreciated their existence, their quaint beauty, and the history that they hold onto with tenacity.
Most of all, I ventured out.
My seizures behaved themselves, and the speed limit was never higher then 55.
Life is good.
God is good.
Want to see the Agrirama?
My Boys will tell you the most important thing is the train.
Who can resist
an old man in
overalls?
Especially one who
lets my boys ring the
train bell!
I'm not sure Zion looks happy about it, but Canaan was thrilled!
What shall he see next?
A friendly wave hello.
Spinning alpaca into thread. Right in front of our eyes.
Almost makes me want a pet....
I don't think the landlord would approve!
Papaw the preacher
Helping the blacksmith get the fire started - pump the bellows.
Now THAT is a fire!
Even Zion gave it a try.
Examining coal up close
and admiring a dragon door handle the blacksmith had created.
What an artist!
When I was a little girl I thought I wanted to live in "olden times".
I read Little House on the Prairie and Little Women one too many times.
But then I see this, and remember who I am and am reminded to be grateful for where I am, when I am, every day. I wouldn't have lived very long back then!
Pocket calculator anyone?
In a drainage ditch off to the side, all by itself was one little flower. South Ga is brutally hot, and the soil is full of clay and sand. A drainage ditch is not a comforting place- and yet, this little piece of beauty still grew, and bloomed, and gave a little color to this reminder of history's harsh trials.
How can you not appreciate God's handiwork in a moment like that?
Until next time...
6 comments:
Sounds like fun!
What a cook place! I cringed when I saw that bed and the stirrups...thank goodness for modern medicine! Looks like such a great learning experience though!
Oh, and I meant cool, not "cook"...its late....haha.
Looks like a cool trip. And congrats on driving it.
What I remember about GA soil is how our motorcross clothes were stained permanent orange. That was some nasty clay.
how fun! yay for driving! I will definitely have to come down and do that with you sometime soon!
What a fun looking trip! I love visiting historical places.
Post a Comment