Megan Harris, Will You Marry Me?

* A Brief Note From The Author*
This blog is supposed to accompanied by a series of photographs that I took to document this blog. Photographs that turned out so beautifully, it would almost lead you to believe that I knew what I was doing with my camera. Unfortunately, I loaded the pictures onto my laptop that doesn't want to admit that it has an IP address, and thus, will not get on the internets. This means that I will have to burn the pictures onto a disc, and load them into a computer that can get along with the internet. Seeing as I am technologically retarded, that may take awhile. Since I didn't take notes over the weekend, I need to get these words out now. Please accept my apologies, and allow me to paint you a picture with my words...

Saturday-Megan arrives at the house like an explosion. She comes bearing gifts. She brought me her grandmother's rotary phone, books, a chicken, and five pounds of potatoes. We hug, and then embark on a tour of my adorable 1928 farmhouse. After the tour, Megan realizes that her cellphone, keys, and cigarettes are missing. After much searching, it is determined that my house contains a vortex that leads to another dimension. As you read, her lost items are floating in some mysterious ether, laughing at us.

We head to downtown Nacogdoches for dinner at Mike's Bar-B-Que, Megan's treat. Then, we visit Eric's friend. Eric's friend explained his desire to own a television that he "could be proud of". When we left, we repeated the television story over and over. laughing uproariously. We are assholes.

On the way home, we stop to purchase beer from my friendly liquor shack. While there, Megan determined that my liquor vendor is not Filipino, as I suspected, but is in fact, from Laos. I love a solved mystery.

We spend the rest of the night drinking beer, listening to music, and laughing. Megan laughs like a freight train, and I like that.

Sunday-We ate breakfast, and then Megan, Dot, and I load in the car, headed to search for ghost towns in Cherokee county. I didn't take notes on the historical information, so I'll leave most of that for Megan to tell you about.

I can't remember the name of the first town that we visited. It's not really important, because all that's left is a historical marker. Seems the town was the former site of a peach farm, but we see no traces of peaches. We move on.

We stop at the Arnold family cemetery, and marvel at the cemetery rules sign, blasted with buckshot. There are a large number of infant graves, and the grave of a Confederate veteran. We find a plastic bird, which we take with us.

We're looking for Wildhurst. On the way there, we see a dilapidated shack, ripe for exploration. We battle our way through the branches and brambles, and find the shack is full of tires and jars. Lots of tires and jars. Also, a plastic bull. Dot found blank sheet music, which she took as a souvenir. I wish I had taken the bull.

We spot a roadside, open-air church, so we stop to look around. We find nothing of note until we look at the outhouse. On the wall in the ladies outhouse, we find a sign that reads, "Welcome to ladies' country. Sit down, relax, and relieve yourself." We take it with us.

We finally arrive in Wildhurst, and one of Texas' 12,000 historical markers teaches us that it is the former site of a mill town. Driving past a majestic tree lined drive, Megan stops to take a picture. We park on the dirt road, and venture onto private property to do some exploration. We are interrupted by the buzzing of motors, and look up to see that Megan's car has been boxed in by an SUV and two kids on dirtbikes. We head back to the car to chat with the folks. Megan rushes up to the SUV, and pouring on the Texas accent, explains to our captors that we are history majors in the area researching Wildhurst and other local ghost towns. To our surprise, we are invited to the house with the tree lined drive to look at historical documents. We learn that the housing for the mill workers was located in the yard we are now sitting in, and our hostess is a former Arnold, as in the Arnold family cemetery. We have a pleasant chat, and watch the hostesses' grand-son practice his roping skills, before continuing our journey.

The tiny backroads we are taking are confusing, and not well marked. We get lost. We drive across all variety of bridges, and stop to ask a meth head outside of a house with boarded up windows for directions. Dot pets a large red dog that she later declares as "stinky". Megan spots an old house, buried in brush, and we stop. The brush is actually a tangle of sharp branches and brambles, which Megan bulldozes through to clear the path for me and Dot. I can tell that Dot is falling in love with Megan. Inside the house, we discover an amazing pink refrigerator, and an art-deco sink from the 30's (that I'm going back to get), and a lot of animal turds and mildewed clothes. We explore the lean-to next door, taking a slotted mailbox and a green bottle.

We stop in a small town to get snacks, before heading towards Weeping Mary. On the way, we spot an historic cemetery. We stop to visit the cemetery, and find that is over-grown and neglected. The last burial took place in 1863, so we find the neglect of this piece of Texas history outrageous.

We arrive in Weeping Mary, where Megan meets the mayor, his 40 oz., and his goat. She learns that Weeping Mary is a historic black community, and poses for pictures. Please refer to Megan's blog for historically accurate details.

We head for one more ghost town, Atoy, before we lose the last of our daylight. Megan and I sing along, loudly, to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Nothing of interest in Atoy, unless you find Baptist churches fascinating. I do not.

We arrive home, and as I walk Dot across the street to grandma's house, she looks at me and says, "Megan is SO awesome." Back off Dot, I saw her first.

Me, Megan, and Eric watch the Mighty Boosh, becoming intimately familiar with Old Gregg and his mangina.

Monday- I tell Megan goodbye, and head to work. When I get home from my 10 hour day, I discover that Megan has roasted a chicken for our dinner, washed my dishes and laundry, folded laundry, and made my bed. She was gone. That's too bad, because I wanted to make out with her.

So, there you have it. Megan, if you want to marry me, let me know. I promise to make you very happy.