Oh snap!

I accidentally erased today's post. I am not happy about this. It was, perhaps, the VERY BEST ONE ever. And now no one will get to read it. Grrrrrrrrrrrr. Well, the gist of it was this: house pictures today. Steel rods. Kind of boring. We will get more interesting stuff, my photographer tells me. But for now, this is what it looks like.

The second picture is of some of my favorite people. From the left (and I'm reverting back to all the marrieds' maiden names), Dalton Lyon, me, Mary Elizabeth Martin, Mary Hewes, Caroline Martin, Hallie Hewes, and Anne Hewes. What a group. This was the 4th of July about 1996. I had just finished a fantastic freshman year at Sewanee (with the grades to prove it) and was working downtown at a high-power government job. We had a little fiesta down at 626 2nd. The hammock used to be on the east deck, right up against the fence. Those windows are Mrs. Bethea's house. She's dead. Anyway, fun as that party was, the thing that I remember most about it involved our friend, neighbor, and birthday-sharer, Mary Jane Allen. At first I told my mom I would "change all names to protect the innocent," but Mom said "Why? No one's innocent." I stand corrected. At some point in the evening, MJ thought it wise to have a little nap in the hammock. After a snooze she thought she'd get up and re-join the party. However, as she tried to get up out of said hammock, she became somewhat ensnared, like a beetle in a spider's web, and landed underneath the hammock on the deck. I think I remember some of her arms and legs sticking through the holes of the hammock. Anyway, we were all afraid to move her, even as she pleaded with us to help her stand up. We all thought she had broken her neck, and everyone knows you're not supposed to move the victims of neck injury. I don't know how long she lay there. Hours perhaps. Maybe days.

Mary Jane survived. We all did.

Hasta manana.