Well, since my USB cable doesn't seem to be working, I can't upload pictures of my visit to the busteling town of Rabbittown, Georgia. I should be able to get those uploaded tomorrow after a quick run to BestBuy.
I can, however, post photos of a failed attempt at visiting another small town: Montezuma, Georgia. It all started one morning when my boyfriend asked me to go fishing (yuck).
Tom is always complaining about how I never go fishing with him.So, after convincing him to drive the coast of Florida with me for Spring Break '11, I figured I at least owed him a fishing trip. I decided to take Baylee and Aphid along for moral support and to carry my camera bags.
My first clue that this was going to be a really unsuccessful trip was when the local bait shop was out of ... bait. That's almost as annoying as the time I went to Sticky Fingers Rib Shack to discover they were out of ribs.
Trying to remain positive after finding out we have no bait to fish with, I suggest we
find our own bait. When I was little, we used to pour Tide mixed with a bucket of water into the ground to make earthworms surface. So, we tried that. Of course it didn't work because we actually needed the worms this time. Tom also tried "vibrating" the ground with a metal stake and a hammer. He swore it would work. It didn't.
After about 30 minutes of trying to "charm" worms out of the earth, we grab a loaf of brea
d and head to the river.
We're well on our way when I notice that Tom keeps looking backwards.
"Is something wrong, Tom?"
"Nah, it's fine. The tire on the left side of the boat trailer looks low on air. We'll pro
bably make it. Can't nothin' fail but a try..."
**EXPLOSION**
The tire on the trailer popped. Or exploded. That would probably be a more accurate description of what happened.
My mood immediately improves because now, I know we won't be fishing today since I have to be back in town by
6:30.
I giggle. "Can't nothin' fail but a try."
Baylee starts laughing.
Well, this makes Tom very angry. So angry that he says inappropriate things.
We navigate to the side of the road and the truck behind us slowly drives past. The two men in
the truck are engaged in a full-on fit of laughter. Apparently, when our tire exploded, it blew the fender 10 feet up in the air. I don't blame them. I was laughing, too.
At this point, Tom has reached his limit.
And as a photojournalist-in-training, I have been taught that when someone reaches their limit, you take pictures. I immediately start shooting Tom, the shredded tire, and the lop-sided trailer.
And so, after dumping the boat in a pecan orchard, heading back to town for a spare tire, and finally, heading back to the boat to put the new tire on, we return to the house without having come within 15 miles of the river.
Here are some pictures that I took while Tom was too busy to threaten me and my camera:
We ended the day with a stop by Dunkin' Donuts...
