Cowboy Church, Trains, and Lady Liberty

Dear husband and I went driving this afternoon around Murphy, North Carolina in search of a WalMart where we could buy a box fan.  In this furious heat we need to be able to pull the cool mountain night air from outside to INSIDE the cabin. I’m tired of standing at the door fanning the air toward Dear Husband (yeah, right…). 

ANYWAY, On our way to THE WALMART I started noticing things like a green hand painted JESUS sign hanging from a pine tree.  I couldn’t get a photo of it because we were driving along when I saw it and there were a line of cars behind us. Was this one word the beginning of the message? The entire message? What did it mean?

I took my camera out of my bag and prepared myself for more. There just had to be more. I became deliberate in my observations. I yelled at Dear Husband to turn around and “Go back!” several times.  Almost scared the poor man into the next life too. 

One turn around was for a, I’m certain, one of a kind church: The Cowboy Church. And they serve BBQ the first Saturday of every month. I just might have to go get myself baptized there.. I wonder if they serve cole slaw with that BBQ? 

 

Another stop was an abandoned train track by an old depot, not strange in any kind of way, just eye catching. We walked down to the river to get a view of the old train trestle and I did steal a huge river rock. I am now a wanted rock thief.  I made Dear Husband carry the rock back to the truck, so he is now an accomplice to river rock thievery. I didn't post a photo of the river rock because I don't want there to be evidence on the internet that may be used against me in a court of law. I figure Dear Husband can't testify against me in court, so he's cool.

 And for all of you Patriotic-Let’s-Celebrate-The-Hell-Out-Of-The-Fourth-July types, I give you Haysville’s own Lady Liberty, resplendent against the simple beauty of her mountainous surroundings.

Also spotted this old barn and fell in love with its quaint mountain/country charm. And I so hate the word "quaint" but no other word will suffice...

And that's my ramblings in the North Georgia mountains for July 1, 2012. Now it's time for a good book, a little bit of Beth Hart and her aching blues, and relaxation so all-encompassing that it's going to turn my bones to near jelly.