I must dedicate some
time and space to the phenomonen that is "Mule Day'.
Found online by Mr
Evans on a webpage which collates fun
local Nashville events, Mule day was added to our calendars. With the decision
made that Saturday jobs could wait until
the afternoon, we left Emma sleeping in and made our way to the
countryside.
The following images
pay tribute to the slice of America we encountered.
Home made icecream churned by an old John Deere engine. |
Making friends with Bailey the rescue dog |
This little creature
is a sugar glider. The smallest marsupial with a pouch in the world apparently. E and G were enthralled and fortunately we had the very real reason of not being able to pass through airport customs with pets to deter them from relieving Mr Evans of $250 and taking one home.
Everywhere we looked
we saw 'America'. It sung in the beauty queen along side denim overalls, and the muddied cowboy boots
being shined at the boot stall.
It echo'd in the cowhide and the cowboy themed welcome wreaths.
It squealed through the children as we abandoned the food rules to eat, corn dogs, 'danger dogs' and slurp on shaved ice.
And it yeahawwed through the country music band set up on the back of a truck,
accompanied by dancing locals.
We learnt
interesting facts such as you cannot make
a mule with a mule. It is strictly the rendevous of horse and donkey
that will result in this stubborn, strong, long eared creature. I narrowly
managed to avoid a full birds and bees discussion. I'm just not ready for that
one yet!. I felt a little like my father must have when talking with my brother all those years
before and I realised how such a garbled story about a daddy dog, with a
present for the mummy dog must have formed and fallen from his lips.
We saw horses bejazzled. WIth glitter painted hooves, coloured manes and croqueted ear peices, complete with a matching barbie cowgirl on top.
We bought beef jerky and corndogs, then sent the kids jumping on fairground rides, which possibly was not the best order but we seemed to get away with it. We watched mule pulling and tasted jambayala. It was with weary feet we headed for home. E lamented that she hadn't been able to actually ride a mule or on a wagon and magically at that moment two wagons came down the road. They were headed our direction but were not in public service.
I called to the lady
in the back as we walked alongside and
she agreed it would be ok for the children to jump on until the end of the
road. The driver didn’t' get the memo through and had no intention of stopping
so I picked up the pace and swung the kids up onto the wagon seat. Little eyes
lit up as they rode along and a little further up, as the wagon rounded the
corner we reached in to pluck our children back cowboy style from the moving
wagon and head towards home.
We bought beef jerky and corndogs, then sent the kids jumping on fairground rides, which possibly was not the best order but we seemed to get away with it. We watched mule pulling and tasted jambayala. It was with weary feet we headed for home. E lamented that she hadn't been able to actually ride a mule or on a wagon and magically at that moment two wagons came down the road. They were headed our direction but were not in public service.
G looks uncertainly at the fox skin hanging over the rail. |
And that folks, was
mule day.