THE SAND BAR CHRONICALS

Hello there ! Wow! I am so excited that you’ve come back to read more about our crazy adventures! You are in for a doozy today! Ok that’s enough of the annoying exclamation points. Now, as you should know by now if you have read any of my articles, that I am the comic relief of our blog. I tell about all the shenanigans we get into, and the very interesting people we meet. Also, I will continue to talk about the fact that I do say awful cuss words , so if you get offended easy, piss off. Just kidding, but really , you probably need to not read such smut.

Let’s get this shit show started. We have camped several times in Hiawassee GA at The Georgia Mountain Fairgrounds. It is a great campground . The camp sites are nice, especially the ones on the lake, and it is right across the street from The GA Mountain Fair, which Boasts such things as pig races, concerts from old country singers, and all the crafts you can shake a stick at, myself, I hate fucking crafts, they give me the creeps, I know I am weird. ANTY WAZE, They also have a really great beer festival there every October, we have attended the past two years. It is a lot of fun. The particular time I am going to tell you about today was a very sad time for me, don’t want to bring you down , my reader, but life is a bitch, and she got me good the week before. Go get your Kleenex now. I’ll Give you a few seconds to go retrieve and get back so I have your full attention, lets talk about how delicious funnel cakes are at a fair, they are fucking derlicious! Okay , glad you’re back. Let’s go back in time a few years, almost 3 to be exact. I get a call from My older Brother that our Daddy had fell and broke his leg , and that he is at a local hospital being treated. I go to the ER, and their is My sweet Daddy sitting in a wheelchair cracking jokes, like he always does, now you know where I get my humor. He did have a pretty bad broken leg, but they put in in a big ole cast and sent him home until he could see an orthopedic surgeon. Cut to the next day , which was May 1st. I was at work , and my Brother calls me again and tells me that he is with our Daddy at his house, and he is very disoriented , and he is showing signs of having a stroke. Well, you can imagine my response. I flew out of that building so fast it would make your head spin. I actually arrived at the hospital before the ambulance. We had to wait quite a while to finally see Daddy, and when we did, well let’s just say when you know , well you just know, and I knew. I knew he wasn’t long for this world, and to make a long story short, too late I know, He passed away 2 days later under hospice care. I was absolutely heart Broken and devastated. We knew that our Dad wasn’t in the best of health, however, we weren’t ready for him to leave us yet. I am telling you all this so you will understand what happened at the sand bar a little over a week later.

So there’s the story of why I was sad on this particular camping adventure. No more sadness, promise. About a week after the funeral, we decide to leave for the mountains. I needed a quick get away. We left pretty late in the day and by the time we arrived, it was late, and it was raining, not a great way to set up a pop up camper, we still had it at the time. I am already in not the best of moods, and we had problems leveling the fucking thing. We attempted leveling it at least 38,899 times , and I was getting pretty damn fed up. All of a sudden , we hear “STOP..STOP…STOP” I capitalize the stops because it was our neighbor yelling. Apparently he had been watching our feeble ass attempts, so he literally came to our rescue. He came in with blocks of wood, and all his drunken courtesy he could muster up, he was our drunken guardian angle, and I was very thankful that he had decided to bless us, or sprinkle pixie dust on us, he really helped us out. Our next day, we where up and about , needing to go into the town and get supplies, and our neighbor was outside as well. We thanked him again for his help , and asked him if they needed anything from town and he said “ a sack of money”. Okay , I know you are thinking , why the hell would you even include this interaction ? I’m gonna tell you why…. I believe that a the universe supplies you with what you need, when you need it. That saying “ a sack of money” was what my Daddy ALWAYS said when I would call him and ask him if he needed anything, I shit you not!! Now I don’t believe that he is looking down on me and all that nonsense, but I do believe it was the universe letting me know that everything was going to be OK.

NOW, let’s talk about the Sand Bar. Yes I went to a bar soon after my Daddy died, sue me, no wait, please don’t sue me! Our friend Shannon came to stay with us the next day to try and cheer me up, so we decided to mosey on down to the Sand Bar for some people watching and drinks. Let me set the scene for you, the Sand Bar is an outside bar, which has sand in the front yard, in other words they are trying to make it seem like a beach on a busy highway. Lake Chatugue is right across the street, so I can see how they thought it could resemble a beach. They also have volleyball, Adirondack chairs, and a couple of fire pits. It’s a pretty cool place, oh and they always have TV’s for football games, and live music. So here we go bee bopping in, and sitting at the bar was a very interesting cast of characters. I will now tell you how the interaction went between the three of us, and the patrons of this fine establishment. A very unique Lady , I would say around the age of fitfyish was sitting near my Precious Husband, that is so patient and understanding, and also a very good blog writer in his own right, excused herself to go to the toilet. Scott moved over to converse with another patron, and when she returned, she let Scott know that , “THAT IS MY CHAIR”. Needless to say, He moved his ass back in his seat. The other characters that I will introduce you now is our friend “ witnesser Joe”. Stay tuned, you know there is a story about that. Let’s call the Lady Beth. So witnesser Joe and his Brother-in-law , which we called “ Bald Mark’ you can prob guess why we gave him that name, were in Hiawasse while their wives where at the beach. Beth did not give 2 shits that witnesser Joe was married. She was giving him signs like a damn Cat in heat, she wanted her some Joe. Joe did not seem to reciprocate the idea, in other words , NO MA’AM! Beth had to go back to the toilet, and witnesser Joe looked at us and said “She’s Aggressive”. Therefore , we named her Aggressive Beth. Now to the story of how ole Joe got his name. A little background….My Daddy was a Bad Ass. He loved southern Rock and didn’t take shit from no one, he was also a big Teddy Bear. At his funeral,( he had this in his will), “Simple Man” by Leonard Skynard was played , how cool is that? Well that song was being performed by the band that night, so my emotional ass starts crying. At this time, Scott had went to the toilet , and Joe saw me crying. Ole Joe had quite a few brewskies under his belt. He came up to me and asked if he could talk to me, I said sure. He asked what I was crying about, I proceed to tell him, and he then asked if we could walk out on the sand together for a couple of minutes. I am thinking , is this guy going to try to sell me amway, Life Insurance, or buy me a drink? None of the above. He tried to sell me JESUS! I swear on WD-40 and its lubricating ability, get your mind out of the gutter, he tried to sell me the gospel of Jesus Christ. He was slurring his words while he was witnessing to me, but his heart was in the right place. He told me that If I would just accept the head honcho , the big kahuna, the big man in the sky, into my heart, all of my dreams would come true….He didn’t say it exactly like that , but you get the gist of it. I thanked him for caring, and worrying about me, and that he should not feel bad that the he is drunk as fuck in a bar trying to witness to me , but no Thanks. I do not buy into all that religion stuff, just not my thang, but I have no problem if other’s believe , so no judgement. So now you know how witnesser Joe got his name. He was a nice man.

So, that kiddos is the story of Aggressive Beth and Witnesser Joe that we met while camping in Hiawasee GA at the famous Sand Bar. Thank you all so much for reading our blog…. Now , I mean it, I am a smart ass, but my Mama didn’t raise no fool. If not for you reading all this nonsense, why would I even bother? You guys are just the fucking BEST! Now that deserved and exclamation point. I need to get off here, my ass is getting sore of sitting , and I am so hungry I could eat the ass end out of a horse. Thanks again for stopping by, and keep on coming back for what the cool kids say “NEW CONTENT”. I call it the rantings of a crazy woman. Whatever you call it, it’ll be a funny as hell adventure, we attract all kinds.