Project 365: Days 280-287

280/365: Jim and I started our roadtrip to Ohio in an adorable Fiat with mandatory stops at Wendy's and Sheetz.

281/365: We stopped to pay our respects to Frank Lloyd Wright and took tours of Kentuck Knob and Falling Water.

282/365: I took Jim on a tour of some of my old Ohio haunts, including the mall // Katie got married like the successful adult she is.

283/365: We arrived in Pittsburgh, went to the Andy Warhol museum, ate Primanti Bros. and walked some bridges.

284/365: We rode the Duquesne Incline // I'm still having a hard time comprehending the weird and wonderful Roadside America, billed as the "World's Most Famous Indoor Miniature Village."

285/365: I couldn't resist this souvenir from the Incline.

286/365: Not the best photo, but look at this ferocious creature.

287/365: Hi, let's be friends.

Twistee Treat

When my friend Katie told me that she would be getting married about five minutes from where I used to live in Massillon, Ohio, Jim and I started planning a roadtrip. He'd never really been to Ohio before, and I was eager to revisit a few spots that I took for granted when they were part of my every day commute. I was particularly excited to see the two Twistee Treats that are a few minutes apart and just down the road from the last place I lived in Ohio.

According to Roadside Architecture, Twistee Treats are "28 feet tall and 20 feet wide fiberglass ice cream cones topped with cherries. The design was created by Robert G. "Skip" Skinner who built the first location in North Fort Myers in 1982. The buildings were produced in Cape Coral, FL. They were made from 19 pieces of fiberglass and assembled on-site. By 1986, there were 30 locations, all of them in Florida. It is believed that about 90 of these buildings were produced over the years. About half of them have been demolished."

Chubby's is definitely my favorite, and as far as I can tell one of the nicest ones that still exist. The cherry, fudge, raised lettering and hand-painted signage really bring it to the next level. While we were creeping on it, the owner actually pulled up to collect her planters. We thought she was going to question why we were creeping on her obviously closed business, but instead she apologized that they had just recently closed for the season. She also remarked "there's no doubt what we sell," which is what I love about novelty architecture. Is there anything more charming than getting ice cream from a building shaped like an ice cream cone? Nope.

The other location is more sparse than Chubby's, but any building shaped like what it sells is perfect in my book. I do love the matching umbrellas, and this Twistee Treat gets the distinction of being the only one that I've actually patronized. We went through the drive-thru once and I got a chocolate-dipped cone that was a very delicious but hazardous choice.

There is another Twistee Treat quite close to these two, but it's nearly identical to the pink one and was slightly out of our way so we didn't get to it. After browsing the #twisteetreat hashtag on Instagram and seeing one for sale, Jim and I promptly developed a fantasy of buying one, plopping it in a New York park à la Shake Shake and retiring as millionaires—with a lifetime supply of ice cream that looks exactly like the building in which it was made.

Mother Pigeon

I first saw Tina Trachtenburg and her soft-sculpture pigeons in Union Square last April. Tina calls herself Mother Pigeon, and created the sculptures as a way to help people "understand that pigeons are beautiful." She moves them around the city to various parks, but I've seen her most frequently in Union Square.

I am not afraid to admit that I detest real pigeons—actually I'm kind of frightened of birds in general—but I'm obsessed with Tina's creations. I can't help but stop every time I see them to see what they're up to, and to donate whatever I can spare. I never mind giving money to people that move me in some way, and it's hard to put my finger on why exactly, but I just love these pigeons. They're so cute and quirky and very realistic—from a few feet away you'd swear they were real until you realize they aren't moving.

It's not just the pigeons themselves, but the whole set-up that's perfect. I love her signs and her various props—in addition to pigeons, she also has a grouping of smaller birds and pizza slices. She most recently added a few rats nibbling on a slice of pizza, a wonderful scene I can only assume was inspired by overnight New York celebrity (and my spirit animal), Pizza Rat.

I don't know Tina and I've never talked to her, but if you see her and her pigeons please be respectful. I've seen people rearranging her scenes to get the photo they want (which I think is so rude) and little kids run up and grab the sculptures while their parents do nothing. You can tell a lot of thought and work goes into these sculptures, and they've brightened many of my days in ways that real pigeons never would. I love that I live in a world that not only has a Pizza Rat, but also has a woman who loves all of New York's creatures enough to turn them into art.

365 Project: Days 274-279

274/365: The weather was terrible so I stayed inside, watched The Others and ate a crispy chocolate ear.

275/365: I peeled myself out of bed to walk to the farmers' market at Grand Army Plaza, bought some honeycrisp apples and left after it started to rain again (but stayed long enough to buy a cider donut and hot cider).

276/365: We took my mom on an "open-house" tour of Green-Wood mausoleums for her birthday (totally normal).

277/365: I never get sick of Green-Wood, so I took the long way home through a section of the cemetery where I had never been and found some wonderful things.

278/365: We hiked up Bear Mountain and saw three snakes—one of which was a poisonous rattlesnake, and one was 7-feet long (no thanks).

279/365: Francesca brought back some A+ souvenirs from Spain, including this cat change purse and ham-flavored Pringles (they're really delicious).

BBG: September

My dude and I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden on a recent weekday that we had off (thank you, Yom Kippur!). I hadn't been to the garden since cherry blossom (and tulip!) season, even though the garden and I are now practically neighbors. We went in a back entrance and were surprised at how much they've added, with more new sections still under construction. I'm a member of the NYBG, but I've always loved the more manageable size of the Brooklyn Botanic.

It was a bit early for any fall foliage, and a bit late for the summer blooms, but I love exploring the in between stages of the gardens. The rose garden was still in full, spectacular bloom with some beautiful color combinations and variations that I had never seen before. I was also enamored with the tiny, brightly colored peppers blooming in the herb garden, the sinister looking black pearl peppers, and the adorable gourds hanging from the beams near the rose garden.

The garden is also hosting an exhibit by Isamu Noguchi from now until December. His iconic rock sculptures are scattered throughout the gardens, and while

I enjoyed the Noguchi museum

, I thought it was a little harder to appreciate his work in this setting—and sometimes the sculptures become indistinguishable from the actual rocks sitting nearby.

It was a really beautiful fall day (the first!) to take a stroll through the garden. At one point it was said that the light through the trees was so specifically "September light," which was so true. I'm always in such a hurry to usher out summer and dive right into pumpkins, ghosts, crunchy leaves and sweaters that sometimes I don't pay enough attention to these in between times, which as it turns out, can be just as lovely.

Savannah: Colonial Park Cemetery

Our last stop in Savannah was Colonial Park Cemetery, the second of two cemeteries we saw on our trip (the first was Bonaventure) and the oldest intact municipal cemetery in Savannah. Colonial Park opened around 1750 and closed to burials in 1853, before the start of the Civil War.

Colonial Park is located right in the heart of the historic downtown and it's open until 8pm on most days which is really convenient. It's smaller, more orderly and less picturesque than Bonaventure, but it's older and filled with the classic stones I love. I particularly love the historical markers—themselves now historic, since being placed around the city in the 50s—detailing the lives of some of the Colonial Park residents.

My favorite feature of the cemetery is the wall of broken headstones. Stones that have been broken or relocated over time are lined up and affixed to one of the brick walls surrounding the cemetery, creating a sort of art gallery where tombstones take the place of paintings. I've seen this before in cemeteries, but never with so many stones or with such a beautiful backdrop.

We saw a few flying cherubs, one skull and crossbones and loads of beautiful typography. We even saw another lizard—different than the one we spotted crawling on a tombstone in Bonaventure—which is not something you see to often up north.

Magic Forest: Animals

In addition to all of the glassy-eyed, nightmare-inducing, not-quite-human inhabitants of the Magic Forest, there are tons of animals—fiberglass, plastic, realistic, fantastical and otherwise—roaming the grounds as well.

While I'm obviously not actually creeped out by anything in the Magic Forest—in fact, I loved it all more than anything—I can objectively see how strange it all is. The people statues were definitely more on the creepy side of things, and while some of the animals skewed toward the macabre, some were downright adorable.

One of the adult rides is a safari, which is basically a trolley pulled very slowly by a noxious-fume-emitting diesel tractor. The ride takes you through a section of the park you can't walk through, and by animals thrown together in scenes that make sense—until they don't. There are jungle animals, dinosaurs, bears, chickens, deer, foxes, pink flamingos and tigers cohabiting, proving that the Magic Forest is indeed a magical land where these creatures all live in harmony.

There are lion-head drinking fountains, hippo-head trash cans, dirty stuffed animals, an animal band, unicorns, poodles and polar bears—all of which are different styles and come from totally different worlds, but work together to create the weird world that I loved so much.

Coney Island: September

Right now it's full-speed ahead to fall and then magical snow and then mutant piles of ice and trash that in some places probably haven't even fully melted from last winter. This summer whizzed by, as time is fond of doing now that I'm old, and it seems like just yesterday we were eating hot dogs with our gloves on celebrating a very chilly opening day at Coney Island.

We made it back a few months later, and although Coney Island doesn't officially close until after Halloween, it felt like a little goodbye to summer. It was still very hot and we sipped a soda from Nathan's, got our fortunes told by Grandma, rode the Wonder Wheel, walked the boardwalk, browsed the Phoenicia Flea and saw the Coney Art Walls.

There were hints that the season is coming to a close—t-shirt sales, premature Halloween decor, a chilly breeze at the top of the Wonder Wheel—but I'll never tire of seeing Coney Island in any season. We passed up the line outside of the new Wahlburgers location (is it that good?) for pizza at Totonno's, and I was thrilled to finally cross it off my list of classic pizzas to try. It was really good—maybe not totally worth the long wait and shoddy service—although it was the perfect end to a perfect day in the perfectly imperfect Coney Island.

Project 365: Days 267-273

267/365: We saw Black Mass and had popcorn and Sour Patch Kids for dinner.

268/365: We went to Williamsburg for the Brooklyn Record Flea where we ate delicious pork and ice cream sandwiches (two separate things), observed the scene on selfie beach and didn't buy a single record.

269/365: I was feeling meh, so I tried to cheer myself up with a walk to Brooklyn Heights, which included a wealth of excellent manhole covers on Henry Street.

270/365: We checked out the new Whitney and hung out with (or around, at least) Leonardo DiCaprio // I walked by the skinniest house in New York, 75 1/2 Bedford Street, with rooms no wider than 8'4".

271/365: Very important adult activities.

272/365: I met Trent for some much-overdue and very delicious chimichangas (right next to this awesome sign).

273/365: I took inventory of my Halloween decorations (not all pictured) and started to plan (and get really excited for) my Halloween party.

Savannah, Georgia

I mentioned in my post about Bonaventure Cemetery that Francesca and I recently went on a weekend trip to Savannah. I'm not at all embarrassed to admit that it was 100% inspired by Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and considering that book spent nearly ten years on the New York Times Bestseller list, I'm willing to bet we're not the only ones similarly moved.

We both agreed that we probably never need to go to Savannah again after this trip—which isn't to say that it's not worth a return visit, but rather a comment on how much we crammed into three days. We stayed at a very lovely (and cheap!) AirBnB right off of Forsyth Park in the historic downtown area, which is quite small and very walkable.

One of our first stops was the Pirate's House, where we ate a very delicious and very Southern buffet lunch (mac n' cheese, collard greens, fried chicken, fried okra, cornbread, peach cobbler, etc.). We then asked for a tour, which we were told was free and we were directed to "ask the pirate." The pirate turned out to be a former New Yorker and SVA grad named Chris, who told us tales of underground tunnels, drunken sailors and haint blue paint. We both thought the Pirate's House was going to be cheesier than it was, but it turned out to be really historic, kind of creepy, incredibly tasty and one of our favorite stops.

In keeping with our main theme, we took a tour of the Mercer-Williams house, which was very short but still worth it. Breakfast at Clary's was excellent for the ambience (and that sign!), as well as the food, and fulfilled my need to eat at a classic diner at least once a week.

We walked the River Walk, popped in some shops, sampled multiple pralines, got pooped on by a bird and walked up (and down) various sets of "historic steps." Savannah is dripping with Southern charm and there is enough to see just walking the streets and through beautiful squares to keep you occupied for several days.

Of course I took notice of some excellent signage, hand-painted, neon and otherwise. The Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) is a top-notch art school and their influence is felt all over the city. Although a large portion of Savannah has been restored—thanks in a large part to Jim Williams—the city is still a wonderful mix of pre-Civil War opulence and urban decay.

We took a ghost tour, creeped on a lot of real-life haunted houses and got yelled at for getting too close to the not-at-all-secured entrance to an underground tunnel once used to transport victims of yellow fever. We took two house tours (and explored one antique store/house), browsed for books, toured two cemeteries, pressed three pennies, saw every one of the squares, accidentally touched some Spanish moss and had our fortunes told by a pirate (not Chris). We didn't see any ghosts, but we did see two lizards, a tiny frog and one ghost cat.

On our last night we ate at the Olde Pink House, which was fancy and delicious. I did, however have a weird moment while we were looking around, where I missed a step on the stairs and felt as if I fell several feet. When my heart returned to my chest cavity, I joked that I must have been pushed by a ghost. I also awoke a few hours later to find that I was violently ill from my burger, so maybe the Pink House presence really wasn't a fan of me. However, despite being pooped on, pushed and poisoned, I still think our trip was nothing but a total success.

Whitney Museum

On Monday I finally made it to the new Whitney Museum of American Art. I had been to the old Whitney once, to see its final show on Jeff Koons, and I had been wanting to see the new space ever since it opened. I was wary of the crowds, but I had Monday off (happy Sukkot!) and some friends were already planning to go.

The building is shiny and new, although we immediately had some gripes about the flow of traffic—we tried to take the stairs but were forced to take the elevator—and only two of the galleries were open. The other galleries will reopen in October with new exhibitions, but there were some great things to see in the permanent collection. There were also some pieces of abstract art that make me groan—metal poles leaning in corners, entirely black canvas squares—but the pop art collection was entertaining.

I absolutely loved Women and Dog by Marisol, as can be expected from a work that includes, a "taxidermic dog head," heads with multiple faces and a random hand. I also liked the giant Claes Oldenburg ashtray and cigarette butts because larger-than-life soft sculptures of everyday objects are totally my jam.

The outdoor spaces at the Whitney are just as, if not more, impressive than the current art collection. There are multiple balconies featuring excellent views of the rooftops, Highline and buckets full of meat scraps below. It's an interesting statement on modern/abstract art that they had to erect signs warning patrons that the sculptures on the terraces are actually art and not, in fact, benches.

But in a museum that houses Warhol, de Kooning and O'Keefe, my favorite piece of American art was Leonardo DiCaprio, who I quite awkwardly noticed when I turned around and found myself inches away from his face. For a little over an hour, we then proceeded to watch him (and his model/actress girlfriend) look at the art—and what's more American than that?

Lake George: Mini Golf

No matter what happens in my life going forward, our Labor Day weekend trip to Lake George will remain one of my favorite trips ever. The entire weekend was perfect—beginning with the diner stops on the way there, everything that followed was magical (not to mention the life-changing Magic Forest). We packed so many things into three days and it was the perfect end to a summer that flew by alarmingly fast. Every activity we did was summery, including not one, but two nights of playing miniature golf.

I can't remember the last time I played mini-golf, but it was probably when I was in Ohio and I was probably not an adult yet. I had almost forgotten how silly and fun it is, and how very bad I am at all sports, mini-golf included. The first night we went to the Around the World/US (18 holes for each) golf course, right across from Lake George. I wanted to see the World's Fair muffler man, which we did, before playing the Around the US course. Aside from some glaring inaccuracies (a Hoover Dam-themed course representing the wrong state), it was a really great course with just the right amount of kitsch and challenge.

In addition to the Bunyan muffler man, they also had a muffler man-esque Native American, a big lobster, the classic windmill, a surfer, Florida orange, Vegas roulette wheel and Colorado Rockies. The 18th hole was a New York subway station—with a real subway bench and a replica train car—that you actually went underground to play. I was unnecessarily excited to do so—considering we both spend a large portion of our lives in actual subway stations—but there was something weird and wonderful about being in one on a mini-golf course upstate.

Our last night in Lake George was spent playing Goony Golf, which we saw as we were driving around town our first day and knew we needed to play. If you have to pick only one mini-golf place in Lake George, I would go with Goony. It was colorful, whimsical and more stylistically cohesive than Around the World, although it was much more crowded.

I loved all of the brightly-colored concrete figures and hand-painted signage. Goony Golf is slightly newer than Around the World, but still has a vintage kitsch appeal in its simplicity and whimsy. My favorite was definitely the Goonysaurs, which we saw from the road, but was even better up-close with its glowing eyes and big bone cane. Even the trash cans were whimsically topped with clown heads. If heaven exists for me, I imagine it can't do much better than to resemble the Magic Forest, with a side of Goony Golf.

Project 365: Days 260-266

260/365: Francesca sketched out some big ideas with her souvenir from the Magic Forest.

261/365: We saw the Coney Island Art Walls, rode the Wonder Wheel, had our fortunes told by Grandma and (finally!) ate at Totonno's.

262/365: I walked through Central Park like old times.

263/365: Excellent belated birthday books.

264/365: I spent my life savings in the Halloween section of Target and bought these incredibly necessary catnip toys for Mozart (along with eight pairs of definitely necessary Halloween socks).

265/365: We had the day off for Yom Kippur, so we celebrated the first day of fall by taking a very lovely walk through the Brooklyn Botanic Garden // I guess Mozart isn't as thrilled about Halloween as I am.

266/365: I made my first apple cramble™ of the season!

Savannah: Alex Raskin Antiques

One of the stops on our very excellent ghost tour in Savannah was the Noble Hardee Mansion on the corner of Bull and Gordon Streets, on the edge of Monterey Square. Our guide mentioned that it was completely unrestored on the inside (as well as the outside) and filled to the brim with antiques. It was creepy enough at night that we decided to see if it was open the next day, and thankfully it was. The mansion is located right across the street from the Mercer House, so we stopped by after our tour.

We spent a lot longer inside than I thought we would, after realizing that we could wander at our leisure. The house is definitely the star, although there were so many amazing (and completely out of our price range) antiques that you could spend days inside and never see it all. We wandered from room to room, and then from floor to floor (and balcony to balcony), dreaming about what it would be like to live in and decorate the incredible house.

The paint is peeling, and everything is in some state of disrepair but it's just the right amount of decrepit that you can imagine how breathtaking it once was—and could be again. I loved placing the furnishings around the house in my mind, and decided that I would definitely leave most of the creepy old photographs and empty frames hanging up the stairwell (along with a mannequin or two).

Alex Raskin has been filling the house with antiques for more than 25 years, which still seems like it's not enough time to amass such a crazy collection. The house was definitely one of our favorite stops during our short but perfect trip. It's a grand house tour with free admission and a museum where you can touch (and buy!) the exhibits. I'm sure there's also more than a few ghosts—if I had a house this beautiful, I wouldn't want to leave either.

Magic Forest: People

The landscape of the Magic Forest is made up of hundreds of figures from various genres, holidays and stories. They're made of fiberglass or concrete or other materials, covered in cobwebs and sit in various stages of decay. Before you even enter the grounds, you encounter a few larger-than-life figures, including Santa Claus, who seems to be the unofficial mascot of the park.

A lot of the Magic Forest is holiday-themed, most of which is specifically Christmas, so it makes sense that one of the first figures to greet you is Santa. He also appears on the big pencil and the pennant souvenirs that I bought, alongside the diving horse and train ride as Magic Forest highlights. The first attraction that we went in was also Christmas-themed, and throughout the forest we saw a few more Santa figures, including one with a belly so large that it was resting on a stool.

There were a lot of elves and fairy-type figures scattered around, peeking down from the tops of buildings, waving magic wands and reaching out to steal your children and your innocence. It's actually astounding just how many figures they've fit into a relatively small amusement park. A lot of the figures seem haphazardly placed, but some feel as if they were designed with the structures in mind.

I joked at one point that I was going to do an entire post on busted hands, because it seemed like everywhere we looked there was a gnarled appendage. I would estimate that the majority of figures we encountered were in less-than pristine condition, missing some fingers or their hands entirely. Some had been repaired, and of course wear-and-tear is to be expected at a 52-year-old park. But I love the weirdness of mannequins and loose body parts in general, so the more busted parts I spotted, the more I fell in love with the Magic Forest.

There were some figures that looked like they were distant cousins of the muffler men, like the tomahawk-wielding Native American or the Walt Disney/friendly-gas-station-attendant lookalike. There are so many different styles on display at the Magic Forest and it truly feels like a collection slowly acquired over decades. Some are more realistic than others, some are cute, some are creepy and some—like anything that had glass eyes—will be haunting me for quite some time.

Coney Island: Art Walls

Last weekend we went to Coney Island to see the Phoenicia Flea—which turned out to be significantly smaller than I had hoped, but I finally got to see the Art Walls, "an outdoor museum of street art featuring the work of 34 celebrated artists."

The exhibition is exactly what it sounds like—34 free-standing walls that double as canvasses for a variety of different styles, words and imagery. Each wall is illuminated with overhanging lights like it's in a museum. I loved that each wall is different, and while I prefer some styles to others, they make a nice collection when viewed all together.

My favorites were the ones depicting classic Coney Island iconography, particularly the "Congress of Curious Peoples" by Marie Roberts. I adore her sideshow-banner style, and her paintings are one of my favorite parts of current-day Coney Island. The Art Walls definitely fit in with the hodge podge of new and old, artful and tacky, weird and family-friendly attractions that make Coney Island one of my favorite places in the city.

Savannah: Bonaventure Cemetery

This is the best time of the year to work at a Jewish organization—we get five days off work in September, and two more in October for Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and a few other holidays. Francesca and I took advantage of the Monday/Tuesday we had off last week and went to Savannah, Georgia. We got a ridiculously good flight deal ($150/roundtrip) and we're both big fans of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (the book more so than the movie).

Savannah is a beautiful town, and I reread the book a few weeks ago so I'd be up to speed on all the spots we needed to see. I'd been to Savannah a few times before when my sister lived there, but never without my family or as an adult. I have a much greater appreciation for travel and all things creepy now that I'm older and Savannah is lousy with history, ghost stories and beautiful old things.

One stop I knew we had to make was Bonaventure Cemetery. I had never been, and it features prominently in the book. Even if it hadn't, it's a historical cemetery built on the site of an old plantation and is consistently referred to as one of the most beautiful cemeteries in the country.

There is no obvious way to get to Bonaventure—located about 3.5 miles from the historical downtown—without having a car, and everyone we spoke to made it sound like it would be a very difficult trip unless we booked a tour. We didn't want to take a guided tour, so we decided to try Uber and it worked perfectly. Our cars to and from the cemetery didn't take longer than 5 minutes to arrive and the trip was about $11 each way—cheaper than a tour and we had complete freedom to wander as long as and wherever we liked.

The cemetery was incredibly beautiful and very peaceful. We hardly saw anyone else while we were there, which is something I love about cemeteries in general. The spanish moss dripping from the huge trees manages to look both beautiful and sinister at the same time, and the cemetery was well-kept but just the right amount of overgrown. It was also relayed to us that Bonaventure was enormous, which we didn't really find to be true—it's big, for sure, but we spent a few hours walking at a leisurely pace and saw most everything.

There are a few famous Savannah residents interred at Bonaventure, including the novelist and poet Conrad Aiken, military generals, governors, songwriter Johnny Mercer and Gracie Watson. Gracie Watson has a particularly haunting grave marker, set off behind a locked gate on a well-manicured plot of land with an inscription that reads:

"Little Gracie Watson was born in 1883, the only child of her parents. Her father was manager of the Pulaski House, one of Savannah’s leading hotels, where the beautiful and charming little girl was a favorite with the guests. Two days before Easter, in April 1889, Gracie died of pneumonia at the age of six. In 1890, when the rising sculptor, John Walz, moved to Savannah, he carved from a photograph this life-sized, delicately detailed marble statue, which for almost a century has captured the interest of all passersby."

We saw a very sad tombstone for a set of triplets (Henrietta, Emma and John Henry), met an adorable (and fast) little lizard darting around the stones, saw one of the tackiest stones I've ever seen (sorry to the Upchurch family, but your piano just doesn't belong in Bonaventure) and saw some really wonderful typography. Without Francesca I would have never spotted the most excellent skull-and-crossbones emblem for the Knights of Pythias, but it was Martha Kirksey's epitaph that will stay will me for a long time—She did what she could.

Project 365: Days 253-259

253/365: I went to the Milk Carton Kids show at Town Hall (they were phenomenal) with Francesca and took some photos of the beautiful merchandise she designed.

254/365: I stayed out late/early after the MCK show to see the 9/11 tribute lights from a new perspective.

255/365: Francesca and I went to Savannah, where we stayed right by Forsyth Park and took a wonderful ghost tour through the city at night.

256/365: We hit all of the Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil spots, including a tour of the Mercer Williams House, breakfast at Clary's and a stroll through Bonaventure cemetery.

257/365: We said goodbye to Savannah (and a near-perfect trip) with a walk through the Colonial Park cemetery.

258/365: Souvenir inventory—Savannah is lousy with squished penny machines, and we got our fortunes from a pirate fortune-telling machine.

259/365: I've been trying to train this loud, rude creature to be quieter, but I'm not convinced it's working. Don't let her sweet face fool you; she's a screamer.