March 18, 2008 :: Nature. One beautiful bitch.

Apparently in addition to being a very talented musician, songwriter, and all-around smarty pants of a guy, Blake is also a pretty fantastic photographer. Huh. Who knew? (Not me, because the Canon has become sort of an extra appendage for me recently. He's hardly had a chance to touch it.) Anyway, I handed over my digital baby this Saturday morning while we walked through the decimated, post-tornado neighborhood and he snapped away, catching upturned roots, dangling roofs and bowing, rusty signs. Good eye, that one. Check my flickr page for more.

This would be the part of the blog where I wordily take stock of the weekend we've just had around here--the disturbing, bizarre, tiring, uplifting weekend. I'll do it in bullets, I think, because everyone likes a good list. (Well, at least I do).

  • Good god, mother nature! That was a bit close for most of us down here. I understand that you are all kinds of angry about the CO2 and the pesticides and all those little automobiles crawling over your skin, but most of us are sorry, and the rest of us know we can do better.
  • Hello, friends from East Atlanta and Midtown and Little 5! Thank you for your texts and phone calls and visits, and for asking if we are ok. You rock. You all get vegetables when the garden is ready for harvest.
  • Dear rest of Georgia: We appreciate the interest. You have nice cameras and SUVs and seem friendly enough. But don't you think there's something a bit morbid about driving from Marietta to gawk at the damage? Wouldn't it be more fun to visit one of our fantastic neighborhood restaurants on a day that they're open, or hang out in our cool park and meet people when they are not freaked out that they don't have enough homeowners insurance? Also, you are parked the wrong way on my street and I cannot get out with my truck. We need to go to Lowe's and buy something to re-seal my chimney. Please close your mouth and open up a toolbox to help the people down the street with the 80-foot Oak reclining in the passenger seat of their car--or go home. Thanks!

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