If It's November...

If it's November, I must be in Tennessee.  Actually, I just got back from Tennessee. And you know how much I love seeing this stuff.

I know it doesn't look pretty in that picture, but a field of cotton really is a pretty thing to see. In the old days, they would put the cotton in trailers, and drive it to the cotton gin. A big suction thing was put in the trailer and it sucked out all that cotton. It eventually gets cleaned and separated from the cotton seed and debris.

As I've mentioned here before, now they leave big blocks of cotton in the field.

When cotton was picked by hand instead of machine, there never would have been this much cotton left over. But machines are faster you know. Maybe someday in the future, one of us will be wearing a cotton shirt that came from one of these blocks of cotton.

Around this particular field on a sunny November day, everything looked otherwise dead and abandoned.

But the sun was shining and there were birds flitting around in the dead tree stumps, singing their little hearts out.


Sometimes, if I'm not too antsy to get home, my return trip might include a detour to the lake area. This is taken atop Kentucky Dam. Bright sunny day, but bitter biting wind.

When I daydream about winning the lottery, my daydreams always include a lakefront cabin somewhere around here.