We went for a little hike at the local neighborhood mountain today.
And by little I mean, if someone had not bet me I could not do it, I would have turned around cause it was hot and I was sweaty...but I had to reach the top.
The wonders of what might await me at the top drove me on and on.
Would it be beautiful wildflowers or a view that was breathtaking or a a wise old man from Tibet that could solve all my problems. What beautiful treasures did the top of this mountain hold?
One hour and forty minutes, six bottles of Gatorade, and many piggy back rides later...we arrived. I was starting to feel like that yodeling mountain man on Price Is Right...can I get a witness?And what beautiful treasure was awaiting us?
A gold plate that said we were at the top...ya know, just in case we could not figure it out...shew, thank goodness that was there.
And SURPRISE...a cannon. Nothing would be complete in this town without a cannon. Ya can;t swing a dead cat around here without hitting a cannon...But wait..where was my wise old man?
Uhm, not exactly what I was looking for...but again, Confederate soldiers around here are no big surprise either. I swear I don't make this stuff up.