I was strolling along Maple Street when I heard the sweetest "yoo hoo." I looked about, spied these lovely ladies, and made a beeline to investigate. "Surely you aren't dressed this way to do your gardening," I ventured.
"No, silly man. We're kudzu queens," this fetching creature retorted. I squinted and blinked. Could it be? Why yes, it was none other than my chic friend Harriett Green. She explained that this band of free spirited women was headed to appear in the neighborhood St. Patrick's parade.
Some were already warming up for the performance, waving to passersby. I know from experience (perhaps a story for another time) that there's nothing like a big wig and feather boa to loosen one's inhibitions. Cheers to the kudzu queen on the right (in the photo above) who wouldn't let a few broken bones slow her down.
They gathered for a group shot before dashing off. And now I should dash if I hope to catch the start of this parade.
I was strolling along Maple Street when I heard the sweetest "yoo hoo." I looked about, spied these lovely ladies, and made a beeline to investigate. "Surely you aren't dressed this way to do your gardening," I ventured.
"No, silly man. We're kudzu queens," this fetching creature retorted. I squinted and blinked. Could it be? Why yes, it was none other than my chic friend Harriett Green. She explained that this band of free spirited women was headed to appear in the neighborhood St. Patrick's parade.
Some were already warming up for the performance, waving to passersby. I know from experience (perhaps a story for another time) that there's nothing like a big wig and feather boa to loosen one's inhibitions. Cheers to the kudzu queen on the right (in the photo above) who wouldn't let a few broken bones slow her down.
They gathered for a group shot before dashing off. And now I should dash if I hope to catch the start of this parade.
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