I want to check you for ticks - Part Two

We woke up pretty early on Saturday morning, mainly due to the lack of any window coverings to block out the morning sun. James got up, took a few pictures of the sunrise and then put coffee on to brew.

We each slowly emerged and went out on the front porch to drink coffee and read. It was so peaceful and quiet until I started swinging on the front porch swing. Unbeknowst to me, I was disturbing a family of wasps who had made their home underneath the swing. They let me know, in no uncertain terms, that they were NOT HAPPY! Since I've had run-ins with wasps in the past and know that they sting like hell-fire, I decided to give them a wide berth.

I moved to another swing on the opposite end of the porch and continued to read. When I stopped swinging, Cheryle pointed out a pile of little green things under my swing. This time, I swung a family of green silk worms right out of their nice, cool home onto the scorching, hot deck. Sorry little fellas! I'm obviously no better to bugs in my 30's than I was when I was six and would "love" them to death.

After about an hour of peaceful reading and coffee drinking, Barney declared it was time to go! He was STARVING and ready to take us on our tour of Greensboro. He then  gave us an estimated time of departure of 15 minutes. We laughed in his face. If the three of us could get ready in 15 minutes it would be a miracle. If we could get ready in 15 minutes with one bathroom it would be more proof that the rapture is near!

After we were informed that breakfast was going to be at a gas station, we threw caution to the wind, tossed on some clothes, brushed our hair and teeth and hit the road. Our first stop...Mustang Oil for breakfast.

As you can see, Mustang Oil is gas station but ironically enough, every single pump was out of order. When we walked into the store, the place went silent. So silent, you would have thought we had six heads. Cheryle whispered to me, "Maybe we should have bought some plaid for this trip, because based on  what we see here, it's coming back in style." She's so sweet.

My exact thoughts were, "Um guys...just in case y'all have missed the last few years of In Style Magazine, plaid went out of style...oh about twenty years ago. It was a good thing and should remain that way."

Mustang Oil is not your typical convenience store. The entire place is full of tables and booths and has all the wonderful smells of a County fair (i.e. anything fried on a stick). The waitress brought us menus and  said, "Good Morning. Y'all are too late for breakfast."

I said, "Good Morning. But it's only 9:00!" To which she replied, "Well there are three biscuits up there in the warmer, but they've been there for a few hours." Yum!

James educated us that Mustang Oil is a mecca for hunters so the breakfast rush begins around 4AM and ends at approximately sun up. We decided that it would be rude to walk out, (read...everybody would notice and it would get back to Amanda) so we placed our orders. Cheryle braved one of the biscuits, Carrie and James got burgers (that were amazing) and I got the chicken fingers. 

(To which our waitress said...honey that's gonna take a LEAST 15 minutes. I smiled and thought...suckas, mine's fresh!) 

While we waited on our food, the girls and I took in the decor. Y'all, there was not a space on the walls that was not covered with dead animals. I looked all around and breathed a sigh of relief. Chicken was the only bird that didn't grace the walls of Mustang Oil.

(I guess it would have been weird if they did have a stuffed chicken on the wall. "Hey Sue..I shot this big ol' bird and mounted it. Wanna hang it in your restaurant? I'll even pitch in for the name plate to put underneath him.") 

Here are a few things that made me laugh:

Oh yes mam. That pig head was directly above the Fried Pork Skins. I guess it's the before and after decorating theme. Somebody's been reading their Southern Living Magazine.

I believe I found out what our bathroom rug is made of and where it came from. Bless it's heart.


This picture is titled...Priorities. TV first and Air Conditioning second.

The owner of Mustang Oil came out and asked if we were in town for "the wedding." Obviously there was only one wedding in Greensboro this weekend and obviously we didn't fool her into believing that we'd all just moved to town.

I'm not sure what gave us away...me taking pictures of a TV and AC unit or the fact that Carrie had on a sundress and cardigan. Way to go Carrie.

I do want to say that I loved the food at Mustang Oil. The decor...not so much, but the food was an A+.

After breakfast we went to Magnolia Grove which is directly across the street from Mustang Oil and the reception site for Amanda and Dennis' wedding. Magnolia Grove is a gorgeous southern manor that was built in the 1800's. We pulled up and Amanda and her mama were covering chairs and tables for the reception that night. Of course we pitched right in to help.

(I'll be darned if I wasn't going to see the inside of that house, and go through every room with a fine tooth comb, since I knew the inside would be closed that evening. My mama didn't raise a fool)

  

After seeing Magnolia Grove, I knew that the wedding and reception were going to be beautiful and after helping cover chairs for 10 minutes, I knew it was going to be a hot Alabama evening. I thought about Amanda and thanked God that she wasn't anything like me. She just glows in the heat. I get red faced and foul tempered when it gets near equator like temperatures.

After we "helped" out Amanda, James drove us to Faunsdale, Alabama which was about 15 miles up the road (or down the road, I'm not 100% sure). I am not lying when  I tell you that the population of Faunsdale is 82 people. Yes...Eight Two. Every spring the town hosts the annual crawfish festival and with a population of 82, I'm picturing that this festival looks similar to Easter at my parent's house.

(James just informed me that it really is a huge festival and we may even make the pilgrimage this Spring.)

We drove through all 0.22 square miles of Faunsdale and then stopped for lunch at Ca-John's. Ca-John's is a cleverly named Cajun restaurant owned by John Broussard. My guess is that John provides all the food for the annual crawfish festival.

There were about five other people inside the restaurant and they too had on plaid. There's something to be said for persistence.

Our waitress asked if we were stopping through on our way to the beach and we told her we were in town for a wedding in Greensboro.

She said, "Oh...Amanda's wedding. I know her mama Betty Gayle. My cousin married her brother. She's dead now...my cousin, not Betty Gayle, but I still keep up with them."

(Now I'm not master of the obvious, but I was pretty sure Betty Gayle was not dead since I helped her put covers on chairs just a few hours ago...well unless she died of a heat stroke.)

(And if that was the case, I wouldn't be writing this post.)

The whole day was like a scene out of Sweet Home Alabama except the groom's mama did not get punched at the end of this story. Oh...and Amanda and Dennis did marry each other.
I have so much more to write, but I'll leave it here for now. I promise the next installment will include ticks. You're welcome.