Cowboys in Cartersville

I was back in Cartersville this past Saturday and Sunday for their annual Cowboy Festival and Symposium. I thought cowboys only went to rodeos and round-ups, but it looks like they get studious at times, too. They also get musical and poetic. This event featured string bands and cowboys reciting their own poetry, as well as shooting and cooking demonstrations, Indian dancing and fast-draw competitions. One fellow who tried my Wizard Water^© fired off shots so fast that he got a blister on his trigger finger. I lost him as a customer, but gained a few others as a result.

A fellow all in black named Hopalong Cassidy also stopped by and asked me if I'd seen any masked men riding with a herd of cattle. I had not, but said I would keep an eye out. Such a thing is hard to miss. I did pass a herd of goats on my way home, but they were unaccompanied.

copyright ©2011 Laurie J. Anderson, all rights reserved.

Another Day in Cartersville

I have just returned from the Cowboy Festival at Cartersville, Georgia. I am very tired and all out of bullets. Actually I forgot to pack bullets and had to use scarves. When the judges of the shooting contest asked me why, I told them that that is the way they are now doing it in France.

I did not win, but I did get a prize for originality. Many thanks to "Doc" Stovall, Sheryl, Liz and all the folks who put this event together.

More later, after I've had a chance to feed Bleb.

A Followup

I regret that due to unforeseen circumstances I was unable to appear at this year's Cowboy Festival & Symposium in Cartersville, Georgia. I was not only looking forward to seeing old friends, but also to hearing famous cowboy poet and humorist Baxter Black in person!

Photographs of this year's Gold Rush Days festival are now on display, however. I look forward to seeing everyone at both events again next year!

Doc at a Cowboy Festival

My wife and I drove the wagon over to the Sixth Annual Cowboy Festival & Symposium at the Booth Western Art Museum in Cartersville, GA one wet night this past week. I was mighty glad the wagon top didn’t blow off on our way in to town, the way it did last year. The folks at the festival were right friendly, despite the occasional gunfight. A whole troupe reenacted the gunfight at the O.K. Corral, but nobody got hurt this time. I played some music on the jinglewhapper, and luckily didn’t get hurt, either.

I came out of the event lighter in bottles but heavier in trade goods – I got myself a hat, a coat, and four bottles of home-made barbeque sauce. The Missus enjoyed some good Dutch oven peach cobbler, bean stew and biscuits, and attended “Cowboy Church” outdoors on Sunday morning, preached by a genuine rancher (the only sermon she’d ever heard where cow poop figured prominently). Indians were present and dressed better than anybody. “Hopalong Cassidy”(aka Joe Sullivan) showed up late on Sunday afternoon, with a few things to say about my famous Skull of Cleopatra, but that’s another story for another day.