You know what they say about good intentions, right? Well, heading into the weekend, I had the best of intentions. I was motivated and ready for action. Alas, it was not to be. Instead of digging and hoeing and lifting and carrying and pulling and all that other stuff I'd planned on doing...we went to Nashville. I've lived in the south all my life. I've lived in Tennessee for six months. I had never yet been to Nashville. The mind boggles.
The Music City is just a short three hour jaunt from the little farm, so we left before lunch and were home in time for a late supper. We didn't do much besides drive around and look at stuff. I saw the Ryman Auditorium. THE Ryman Auditorium. Very cool. And, did you know that there's a replica of the Parthenon there? The freakin Parthenon. In Nashville, Tennessee. I have no idea what purpose it serves or why they thought it would be a good fit. But it's there. Bigger than life. Not, however, made of marble, much to my disappointment. It was very surreal to drive down the street and glance out the window to see...the Parthenon. I mean, really. And apparently I'm some sort of complete idiot because I didn't know it was there. "Of course there's a Parthenon in Nashville, K. Duh." Oh, right, right. Makes perfect sense. After some deft wikipedia maneuvering, I learned that it kinda does make sense in that Nashville is The Athens of the South. Who knew?
After that very strange experience, we went to Third Man Records. Those of you who know me know that I have something of an obsessive infatuation with Jack White. I think he's beyond talented and I want to be like him when I grow up. So, to visit his recording studio/production facility/performance space/record store was a treat like none other. I even got a t-shirt.
Then we ate ribs and came home.
All in all, another low-key, unproductive weekend. I think the fact that it was approximately 250 degrees outside is an adequate excuse for our less than laborious time off.
Now, I'm off to labor in the sun and make up for being a complete and total slacker. The unrelenting heat last week really pulled the rug out from under my garden. Pretty much everything is in a slow state of dying. Except one thing. Okra. Now I understand why okra is such a popular southern cuisine. It's the only thing that will live in blazing heat with no water for a ridiculous amount of time. My corn? Dead. Cukes? Withered. Squash? Have had better days. Tomatoes? Hanging on by a thread. Okra? Thriving. Which is really quite awesome. I absolutely LOVE fried okra. Seriously. Almost at the top of my fried things list. If anyone has a good batter recipe, I'd love to have it. My attempts thus far, while tasty, have been substandard.
Good day to you all!