My parents are moving. My parents, who fled Middle Tennessee in the late 1960's and raised my brother and I here, are fleeing this mountainous land for the flat cotton fields of Alabama. In case you're wondering what could initiate such drastic change, his name is Jack, he's one year old, and he apparently has the ability to cast infatuating spells over seemingly reasonable adults.
Over the past seven years, my parents have been blessed to live in the most perfect house. This house is so fantastic in fact, a couple knocked on the door and offered to buy it before it ever went up for sale. I love this house. We all love this house. While my dad was in Alabama several weekends ago, Talladega to be exact, he snapped this lovely group*. Meet my new kin folk. Lord help us all.
*Let it be known that my dad would never willingly go to Talladega. It was strictly work related. We're more the golf and tennis crowd.
So I'm the last Campbell left in Knoxville. We are Campbell's on the brink...well, unless you count Smudge, my cat of 20 years who is buried behind my parent's house. I couldn't convince them, as much as I tried, to dig up his remains and take him too. I doubt the movers would have minded loading a small box labeled Dead Cat. Oh well. Sorry Smudge. I tried.
2 comments:
There is so much going wrong in this Talladega picture. From the Spongebob hat to the girl in flannel with the wet pants. I also like the idea of your dad stopping to take a picture of this group. Amazing.
hahahahaha! still laughing at this post. you are hilarious. can you not create a side line reality blog to detail their new life and dodgy encounters living on the other side?! btw i cannot believe i never came to their house just sold.... gorgeous!!
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