More Like the Great Enabler

Have you ever talked to one those jerks who say that the only two certainties in life are death and taxes? Well, they’re wrong. Dead wrong. There is a little known third certainty, but an equally important one: the willingness of children to buy rock candy at any price.

Some of you might say, “But Lain, it’s a market driven by scarcity! Just make the rock candy more accessible to children and they’ll chill out.” To that I say, “Prove it, jerk! Prove it!” Because you won’t…and you can’t. Children will climb any mountain and cross any river in order to buy rock candy, and even then they do not care about the cost.

This morning we gave a tour and storytelling to a well behaved group of ninety kids. And then they saw the gift shop. 200 pieces of rock candy later, the Wren’s Nest sold out of of the stuff. I narrowly escaped certain death at the sticky hands and blue and green stained teeth of some seriously motivated fifth graders. Their teachers, none too excited about the bus ride home with these freshly sugared urchins, reluctantly kept the little ones from tearing me to bits.

My title may be “executive director” but sometimes it feels more like “drug dealer for children.” Anyway, I think they had a good time.

"I don't understand exactly"

Dear Andy,

The Wren’s Nest is this crazy ole Eastlake / Queen Anne Victorian home in the West End neighborhood of Atlanta. It was built in 1870.

Joel Chandler Harris (or JCH as we call him in the pros) moved to the home around 1880 with his wife and children. He fixed it up nice, real nice, with a big front porch and stained glass windows. Over time, wrens made a nest in his mailbox and from then on the house was known as “the Wren’s Nest.” So far: totally awesome. It only gets better.

Continue reading

Saturday Storytelling

First, welcome facebookers. Go ahead and do me a favor: hit “ctrl” and “d” at the same time. Go on, I’ll wait.

There. Now you’ve officially bookmarked the Wren’s Nest! Incredible! You can read this every day!

If you’ve just stumbled across this site and have nothing to do this afternoon, I recommend that you stop by the Wren’s Nest around 1 o’clock for storytelling. We’ll do it outside in the reading garden if it’s not raining. Miss Woodie will be here to tell, and as some of you know, she’s too good to miss. Check out the main page for directions.

Can’t come? Don’t worry too much. We have storytelling every Saturday at 1. Bring the neighborhood.

The Great revitalizer

Forbes Traveler gives a great shout out to the Wren’s Nest in its latest incarnation of Atlanta Insider. Check out the Underrated section. Big ups, Forbes.

And from the look of the article, I’m totally famous now. I promise not to let it get to my head, but if you would please now call me “the Great Revitalizer” instead of “Lain,” that would be more appropriate.

Most kidding aside, a non-profit like the Wren’s Nest does not just magically revitalize itself, and rarely can any one person take the credit. Most of the “revitalization” comes from people like you. Yes, all three of you. With a (tax-deductible) donation to the Wren’s Nest, you can become a part of the elaborate latticework of giving that revitalizes the Wren’s Nest or any other non-profit. But really, just the Wren’s Nest. “The (so-called) Great Revitalizer” is merely the dude who sparks the process. So, let this be your spark! Head to the Wren’s Nest main page where you can donate online via credit card.

P.S. Do people really say “big ups”?

Ghosts at the Wren's Nest.

It makes sense, right? The house is old. It is a little spooky. Folks died here a long time ago. What else do you need? I don’t know for sure, but the good people at the Georgia Ghost Society might. Apparently, there have been “reports of paranormal activity taking place at the Wren’s Nest.” Maybe the activity is related to our alarm sounding at random. Or maybe the little boy asking about ghosts on Friday was onto something. Either way, I hadn’t planned on historic preservation at the ethereal level. But I could be wrong; maybe that’s preservation in the truest sense. Ooh.

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