Florida 2013: Cracker Barrel

I added a wordpress app to my Smartphone and decided to test drive this bad boy at St. Augustine’s Cracker Barrel (I’m a rebel like that), seeing that my Mom and sisters are visiting the local outlets and the intermitent Floridian deluges are stoppering any attempt to sightsee the city’s copious forts and gator farms. Soooo … I’m posting tons of photos over the next several weeks in part because Disney saps the life out of you but mostly because I’m rather lazy writer. Thus, if you’ve developed a healthy lassitude to the written word, enjoy! If not, well read War and Peace or better yet my other blog posts – some are even longer than a Russian novel so go crazy you kooky sesquipedalian.

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Every visit to Cracker Barrel deja vu haunts you. We ate at three of these places and the wild assortment of candy, talking toy tucans, and 'I love Granny' t-shirts look the same regardless of zip code.

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I figured out this thing years ago but each summer I go through the process of relearning the secret like the password of some abandoned email account.

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I am undecided whether women a hundred years ago were naturally unattractive, drawn modestly, or possesed the fashion-sense of an Amish minister.

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I am a checkers beast. The sibs and I would always play after dinner while the lady-folks shop. Without sounding arrogant, I'm like the best checkers player in the world.

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After brunch, the girls chose the Outlets to spend their first day in Florida. No bookstores, just a Bose store and a toystore. *sigh*

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I should buy one of these and fire foam darts at strangers. Not very mature but we might get Mom to visit more of the city...particularly the old timey sheriff's office.

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It's not a purse; it's a satchel. Indiana Jones had one. Bree's been criticizing my sense of style lately. Mostly she believes I should wear more sweaters.

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Great Scott! To me, Marty's life jacket proved the most interesting accessory at Banana Republic. Bree only tutted and turned to look at another pink sweater vest. Cosplay trumps long sleeves any day and twice on Tuesday.

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Essentially Bree wishes I would wear more pastels or at least colors other than grey, blue, and kaki (of which I do own quite a bit). Thus to prove a point, I compared women sandals in the UnderArmour store . . .

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. . . with the men. As I told Bree, guys do not really buy bright, rainbow-y colors . . . unless of course, we're superheroes. A good rule of thumb is if you can bend steel and jump skyscrapers, you can wear basically anything you want. Like Batman, I can't do those things; thus, I enjoy clothes that blend into the shadows, trees, or both (i.e., the bookshelves at the local Barnes and Noble, my hunting ground).

All in all, the app made it rather difficult to post anything more than a single photo at a time. Still it was an interesting experience, more importantly a necessary survival tool to shopping with your little sisters. Many apologies for the boring un-historic pictures of the city, but tomorrow I’ll be sporting my camera and roving through Disney. Wish me look!

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2 thoughts on “Florida 2013: Cracker Barrel

  1. I think I stopped at that outlet mall. Got an orange ua shirt for five dollars on clearance. I skip cracker barrel though.

  2. Cracker Barrel is not for everyone. Only the strong of heart and brave of spirit may face the countless rows of jarred candies, mechanical stuffed animals, and ornate red Solo cups (Mom considered a pair of the beer-pong cups super-glued to crystal stems like Redneck wine glasses). Who needs the city’s Ripley’s Believe It or Not? We have Cracker Barrel.

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