Our Day with the Car

We thought about going to Memphis. Well, I thought about going to Memphis. I think Mrs. Wigglebottom thought we were going to the park.

Instead, we got off at the first exit across the Tennessee River and headed south. Eventually, we ran into Shiloh, which was nice, because, not only did I see a street sign with my name on it (though I did not take it), the battlefield was free today.

So, Mrs. Wigglebottom and I found an out of the way spot to put the car and then we walked around reading signs and sniffing and peeing on things. In case any of my Southern readers are concerned, I don’t believe we peed on any of your dead folks, but, if we did, let’s just assume they enjoyed seeing a dog and a woman, instead of only sobbing old men from Missouri, who seemed to be the only other people in the park.

I’m not knocking crying over tragic deaths. I’m just saying that, after a century and a half, I bet the dead folks like to occassionally have a cute dog come by and sniff around the trench their remains are piled in.

For those of you who’ve never been to Shiloh, it’s really something to see. I’m always especially moved by the Iowa monument, which is a big stone looking thingy with a statue of a woman on one side who is writing something which I should have bothered to remember on the side. Ha, that’s a ringing endorsement, but really, it’s very cool.

Then we were trying to decide if we were going to go to Mississippi, but decided against it, since we didn’t have any of the CDs we wanted with us. I don’t know what made that the deciding factor, but it was.

We meandered east until we hit the Natchez Trace Parkway and wandered up it. We saw this enormous turkey vulture that seemed to be just hanging in the sky, the circles it was making were so slow.

And I can’t remember what else we saw, but it felt good to be out and around.

8 thoughts on “Our Day with the Car

  1. If you were to come to Memphis, there is a great park where mulitudes of people let their dogs romp.

  2. Besides the fact that ‘Natchez Trace Parkway” would be an awesome name for a band, you live near the place called Shiloh. That’s pretty cool in and of itself. And with turkey vultures! I had two of those not long ago fighting over a sqaushed rabbit in the street in front of my house. I watched the show for hours.

    But shit, all I can do with driving a bit is to get to stinking Gary, Indiana. Mississippi would be fabulous. But why no driving for lack of CDs? You either put on the radio or just sing to yourself under those circumstances.

  3. I imagine those dead folks were quite pleased to see a fine pup out having fun. Plus, just ’cause those boys are dead doesn’t mean they can’t appreciate a pretty girl when she saunters by. They’d have been very happy had you been wearing a skirt, I’m sure. (Hee!)

    Y’all think I’m crazy. I am, but that doesn’t mean stuff ain’t true. There’s a boy at the monument by the greenway at Stones River who calls my sister’s dog every time they go walking there. And she (the dog) wags her tail and goes leaping to him.

    He’s NOT ALIVE.

    But he’s a fine boy, nonetheless. We feel sorry for him, because it’s obvious he misses his dog.

    Y’all can hop in the car and come down to the new Bark Park in M’boro. It’s on the greenway, too, but it’s a good ways away from the haunted monument. That way Mrs. W. wouldn’t have to whip up on a ghost during her first visit.

  4. grandfille, you don’t even know how close I am to deciding to take the day off work and going down there this very minute to check that out.

    I love good ghosts!

    I didn’t see any at Shiloh, though, sadly.

  5. Oops, I need to correct my historical info. Pickett’s Charge was at Gettysburg. The “sunken road” at Shiloh was called the “Hornet’s Nest.”

    Sorry. I had visions of my old history teacher in Tennessee beating me with his Confederate saber if I got that wrong, so I had to check.


  6. I love good ghosts!

    Oh, he is a good one. He’s a sweet boy. (There’s a photo somewhere around my house. Yes.) We ought to get a preacher or somebody with more knowledge than we have to go out there and tell him kindly that he’s dead and to go on to his reward. He ought not to have to stay out there in the weather without his dog and his momma.

    I think Mrs. W. would love our boy by the monument, after the initial “The hell? Mom, are you seeing this?” reaction. She’d probably knock him down and kiss him. Take a digital camera and watch the orbs in broad daylight. Whee!

  7. Aunt B, you ventured through my old stomping grounds. Shiloh is 15 minutes from where I grew up. That foul smell you might have detected is from the local paper mill, which is where my dad works.

    As for the Bloody Pond, they used to put red dye in it to give it that eerie coloring, but I don’t believe they do that anymore. Now it’s just an ordinary old green color.

    And now I’m going to have to go back home and look at the street signs around the park so I can deduce which might be your name. Mwaa ha ha.

  8. Well, in all fairness, it was “B. [Mylastname]” Road, which makes it applicable to me, my two brothers, my mom, my dad, my live uncle, and my two dead uncles.

    I don’t know why my family is so attached to the letter “b” but there you go.

    I love that they used to tint the pond. That tickles me.

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