First, I must say I have absolutely loved the warm weather we’ve been blessed with here in Tennessee this past weekend (although the tornado sirens today and sudden drop of temperature were not quite as enjoyable). I know I speak of the weather quite a bit on here, but it just affects your mood so much, you know?
Anywho, this weekend I spent in my hometown, the land of mules. Every year the countriest of people — I’m talking overalls, hats, boots and tons of farm lingo, not those twangy singing Nashville stars — gather in my small hometown for a celebration of the animal that our town was established for, the mule. We used to trade them, now we parade them. I must admit, my family and I have avoided this mule fest each one of the seven (or is it eight?) years we have lived there.
But this year was different. I traveled the lovely almost two-hour trip with a wonderful friend just to hear the outrageous lies — ahem, I mean stories — told by country folk young and old at the annual storytelling contest. We heard about a man caught skinny dipping, a civil war ghost, an outrageous hunting excursion and how one small family landed in Sawdust (unincorporated), Tenn. The night was wrapped up with some lively bluegrass (among their playlist was “Man of Constant Sorrow,” a hymn and “Flatbottom Girls”) and the announcement of the most well-told tale. All in all, a great introduction to the week-long celebration for the most stubborn animal around, the beloved mule.
I will leave you with some more photos from the following day’s parade, which led us to the discovery of a fabulous downtown camera shop. (Also, be on the lookout, I took my first film photos on this trip! Once I finish the roll, I’ll tell you all about it.)
I’m happy to say that even though I first rolled my eyes at the idea of a Mule Day celebration, I am so glad to call the quaint and quirky southern town my home. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
PS: If you want to join in on the fun, next year’s festival is March 29-April 1.