This weekend Downtown Historic Franklin Tennessee was transformed into 19th Century Victorian England. Mr. Dickens' himself was out and about on the mild December day enjoying the revelry.
Tolerable as I was, my companion for the day, Angelino and I meandered through the town sightseeing and people watching. The city streets lacked for not for entertainment. Threatening to breck into some Riverdancing, I had to move Angelino along. We were nearly trampled by the careening carriage.
Sadly, we were disappointed by the period dancing which turned about to be a square dance calling without the square dancing. These folks look as if a spring of holly had be inserted in an most uncomfortable of locations.
Missing from the day's events were roasted chestnuts and actual characters. Mr. Scrooge was a most displeasing man. Cold and embittered, I felt a pang of sadness for a poor soul. But I whole hearted agreed that anyone going about with a 'Merry Christmas' on his lips should be boiled in his own pudding with a stake of holly through his heart--especially after our foray into the Cool Springs Mecca--an unholy of places. Consumerism is god. Rudeness his maidservant.
The day was a rounding success in keeping with the situation!
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