This is not because of the volunteers (hard-working and wonderful) –

nor the attractions (please — like miniature farm animals even know how to do anything besides be incredible) –

nor the entertainment (our clown also provides sno-cones and popcorn — it’s fool-proof).

Nope, this year was bonkers because we had a whopping 750 attendees.  You know how many that is?  A MILLION.

(Oh, you think that sentence didn’t make sense?  Try entertaining 750 people for 5 hours, including a woman who insists you bring in police to ensure no one cuts in line for lunch.  She is firmly holding your wrist the entire time.  Now you make your brain work.  I thought so.)

Each year, Wren’s Nest is this amazing combination of community support, gleeful small children, and fun times, with a healthy smattering of “you’re kidding me.”  In short, it earns one of the best naps of the year, period.  I might still be napping — I’m not sure.

Thanks again to everyone who helped out this year — we very literally could not do it without you.  Check out the pictures if you’ve got a minute.

Nannie showed us this today with the intro, “Imagine my surprise when I saw I had died!”  For the record, this made me feel really, really weird.

To the family of (not our) Nannie Thompson, please accept our condolences.

This bizarre coincidence inspired (our) Nannie Thompson to kick what was ailing her to the curb, though I think we can all agree that perhaps she should take cues from subtler sources.

Welcome back, Miss Nannie.

Did you ever visit our bathroom?

If so, you might have found yourself saying things like, “I think the toilet has been running for the last 14 hours.  Also, the wall is falling off.  And is the sink supposed to shoot cold, frigid water at you?  Gah!  Something just crawled in where the window pane doesn’t meet the frame.”

The good folks at Blalock Construction are overhauling everything, and boy are we keen.  Being that this is the non-historic part of the house, the possibilities are endless.  Why, this may even mean that by next week my regular responsibilities will no longer include “fixing the toilet all the damn time.”

Unfortunately, there is a bit of a downside to this.  You know how if, in your building, they’re working on the bathrooms you have to go down to another floor?  Meet our other floor:

Nothing but the high life over here, folks.

This thing somehow crawled inside our window.  I really and truly hurt myself running away from it.

Lain and I debated whether it should meet its maker via shoe, but decided no for two reasons:

1. I’m not sure we have enough paper towels to clean up the carcass
2. Are you kidding me?!  We need to do everything we can to stay on its good side.

Lain safely (and bravely) re-released it into the wild.

I need to go lie down.

Walt Disney Pictures

Naturally, the film is being viewed under a social microscope, and not necessarily for the better.

Everything from the film’s locale (New Orleans) to its characters’ screen-time percentage as frogs has been called out as racially problematic.  Hoo boy.

Critics have used examples from Dumbo and The Jungle Book (both available on DVD) to fuel racism charges.  According to Disney in the article:

The company responds that criticism of such well-worn examples — particularly of films from the ’60s and earlier — applies a 21st-century morality to movies made in sharply different times.

Yes, I thought that was worthy of bolding.  Probably because it sounds exactly like the logic we apply to Song of the South. Disney, don’t play favorites!

I haven’t seen The Princess and the Frog though I sure do plan to when it comes out.  I am awfully interested in how all of this develops, and not just as a casual observer.

What do y’all think of the criticsm?  Can Disney do right with ethnic characters?  Does criticism just come with the territory?  Is a cooling of the jets called for?  Do tell!

Update (9/18/09): Here’s an excellent article on, essentially, the trouble Disney may be getting itself into in trying to please too many critics with The Princess and the Frog and how that mirrors the path of Song of the South.  Enjoy!

Apologies for the recent lack of posts.  A combination of travel, the start of our publishing company, and Wren’s Nest Fest‘s rapid approach has kept my brain on the fritz.

Lain, however, is unapologetic.

Anyhow, we’re back with a bang.  Behold:

Yep, that’s a machete.  I stumbled upon it today in our pantry.  It’s hanging with a mop.

Nannie, cool as usual, said “Oh, that thing?  It’s been here forever.”

One teeny tiny asterisk: almost all of our applications came from women.  See: all but one.  And that one?  He’s got some major scheduling conflicts that, if we’re being totally fair, should prevent his acceptance.

Thing is, we really, really, really do not want this to be a single-gender program.  A coed dynamic is key, and I fear that an all-girls program will beget an all-girls program and so on.  Yuck.

So.  What do we do?  I figure the options are:

• (a) Extend the deadline, with heavy emphasis on men
• (b) Admit the sole fella, scheduling conflicts and all
• (c) Ignore it — smart students are smart students, period

Got a better idea?  Leave your brilliance in the comments!  I’ll be lightly fretting in the meantime.

I expertly covered this phenomenon back in 2007, so you should really just read this post, as it’s still 100% pertinent.  Especially if you’ve hopped on board since September ’07 (welcome!).

If you are one of those johnny-come-latelys, allow me to bring you up to speed:

• Lain is our executive director
• That is, not a famous person
• Yet, he signs autographs
• Because people request them
• This is totally weird

For those of  you looking for a progress report, here it is: the epidemic is growing.

While I am uneasy about event titles with ellipses, “Do Tell” looks pretty neat. Even better — two of the Wren’s Nest Ramblers, Akbar Imhotep and Curtis Richardson, are on the docket.

(Curtis doing his thing in our storytelling garden, captured by Michael Cogliantry)

Interestingly enough, only one hour of the storytelling is designated as “stories for families and children.”  Printing mistake or bucking that whole “children love stories” trend?  Either way, color me intrigued!

You know I love anything hosted at a fine arts center that threatens to veer off into blue territory.

Think you’ll go?  Me too.  Find tickets here.

Today’s AJC reports the dismissal of Karen Huebner, now former executive director of Atlanta’s Urban Design Commission.

The Urban Design Commission’s “mission to preserve and protect the city’s architectural heritage often pits the UDC against developers and sometimes even city government.” Needless to say, we’re fans.

You may also remember the UDC from when they presented Lain an Award of Excellence last summer.

(I’m pretty sure the photographer told Shirley to take a big bite of something at that moment.  I was, as usual, instructed to close my eyes.)

More recently, they greenlighted our construction permit.  Thank them when you don’t fall through the floor, please.

The Urban Design Commission is a leader in Atlanta’s struggling preservation efforts.  Not only do they highlight wee preservation underdogs like us, but they also applaud creative preservation (the recently-closed Spotted Dog springs to mind, among others).  The dismissal of their executive director is a major blow, to say the least.

So — where’s the petition?