Southern Living

Natural Tunnel State Park

There is a wonderful State Park on the border of VA and TN. It is called Natural Tunnel State Park. You can particpate in all of their activities for FREE on Labor Day. We took the opporunity to explore with Duane and Faye’s ward! It was an almost perfect day. The scenery is breathtaking!

The park dates back to the 1800’s when it was used as a place to stay for frontiersmen. They later discovered that the “Natural Tunnel” was a perfect place to lay the railroad tracks (its a shame if you ask me that they ruined the natural beauty with a train), but it adds to the mystique. All of the outlaying areas are still unharmed though, and it is a beautiful place. We all had a blast and even got some exercise with a glorious hike!

In The Clouds

While in the car on Saturday, I noticed this cloud on the bottom right. I saw an upside down pig that looks like he is cracking up after booting a football. I named the cloud pig on pig. (get it, they call a football pigskin) – perfect cloud for this time of year, huh? And, guess what, the Vols won later that day.

The other pic, I thought is a great catch of an obvious heart. The pictures above just 1 – of the beautiful southern sky with clouds and trees and 2- Sophia’s other piece of “in the cloud” artwork. A quadruple decker cracker and cheese sandwich….YUM! And, yes, I have to sidenote that this sandwich was made with her spreadable cheese, not the sliced kind. She really needed a bath before we hit the baptism we were heading to, but what do you do?

Cute, that later in the day, Sophia and Uncle Logan were at a neighbor picnic. They were laying in a hammock, observing the clouds. Sophia asked Uncle Logan if she could take pictures with his cell phone and then she proceeded to capture every available cloud and tell Uncle Log what she saw. Man, don’t ever forget that your children are always watching!

Take Me Home, Country Roads

I thought that you would all love a pic of me in my bathing suit! He he

Shown in pic. – Cousins Jarrett and Missy Gold, and their 3 adorable kids (Brighton, Aspen, and Rider) and us and two of the girls. I have no idea where Bella is, but I highly doubt she ran ahead. She may be coming up and over the hill, or hiding behind the vastness of my towel.

This is a pic that LG’s Uncle Dirk snapped when we were at Claytor Lake, VA over the 4th of July. I love the picture of all the green in the back. Behind us, over the small hilltop, is a massive lake…all the green is from behind the lake. There is at least a mile of lake between our backs and all those trees. Crazy, huh?

This is why they say, “Take me home, country roads.”

My next post is going to be our last trip to Claytor Lake over Labor Day. We paddled in the paddle boat and did Karaoke. If I can get the video to work, there is a funny one of LG singing like a sleezy lawyer….you have to try and catch it all from behind my laughter.

Mayfield vs. Baskin Robbins

So, here in Tennessee, we have a delicacy called Mayfield ice-cream. The girls and I took a tour of Mayfield this summer. Here are the pictures of their HUGE single scoop cones. I hate to admit it, but even though I’ve lived in the south for the past four years, I still haven’t been able to force myself to convert to Mayfield.

A funny thing about Mayfield Dairy is that they package their milk in yellow gallon plastic containers. It really freaks Westerners out. They always think that the milk is orange juice. Mayfield claims that these darker containers keep their milk fresh longer. My girls drink their milk so fast that freshness is not a worry for me! But, I do thank Mayfield for the countless laughs I have gotten from visiting westerners wondering why I have 4 gallons of OJ and no milk in my fridge.

I am through and through a Baskin Robbins girl. I just can’t give up on that great 6 months of my life when I had all the ice-cream I could eat. Of course the flavors were almost endless.

I was recently reading an old stand up comic routine that I wrote. It was pretty weak, but the one good joke out of the bunch was in reference to the many odd jobs I have had in my life. I talked about what I learned working in the produce department and then UPS, and then I referred to Baskin Robbins. My words, “It was unfortunate, I had to quit; I just got sick of all 31 flavors”.

The Potluck

Learn one VITAL sign in ASL: Eat food!

As opposed to Eat poo (“U-no-poo” was one of my favorite parts of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling)Wouldn’t I love to be like J.K. Rowling someday!

Well, this entry is dedicated to one vital facet of Mormon life…..the potluck dinner. I must say that before moving to Tennessee, I really liked potlucks. But, too many bad experiences in my congregation here have quite turned me off. At our Christmas party last year, we ran out of food…..a Christmas party with not enough food???????
And sometimes after church on Sundays we have what is called a “linger longer” where all people bring food items of their choice and after our 3 hours of meetings we dine together. Or, we are supposed to dine together.

Last year I made a vow to never attend a linger longer again. On this particular Sunday, I left disgusted with potluck dinners. I had taken 3 dozen homemade rolls and two very yummy and large salads. When it came time to eat I found myself at the back of a very long line. I gathered 3 empty plates for my children and was astounded when all that was left of the spread was some yucky mac-n-cheese- and a 3 quarter empty rice-cooker with cold hard rice. My kids were starving and the people ahead of us had been VERY RUDE and gotten themselves very large servings and sometimes even TWO plates. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I told LG that I would never attend a linger longer again.

Yesterday, after church, LeGrand came home and said, “Alice, you aren’t going to like this, but….” I had no idea what he was going to say….only the worst was going through my mind…..(IDEAS: the Bishop wants us to donate a $1,000, I have been called on a mission to Zimbabwe, I want a divorce)

I braced myself, and inquired. He said,”I think that we should go to the Linger Longer next week.” I lovingly questioned him and he put forth some powerful arguements and I agreed that I would go, but that I would stash enough lunch for the kids in the diaper bag, just in case.

As LG walked back to our bedroom to change out of his suit, I hollered, “LG, you aren’t going to like this, but, I think we should have another baby.” (No, I am not announcing anything)

LG, turned quick on his heels, met me in the kitchen, made eye contact and said, “O.k. Alice, we don’t have to go to the linger longer.” Isn’t he funny?

P.S. I think he talked me out of Baby #4 for now.

The Rolling Thunder

This skyline means trouble

There is a hymn that I really enjoy, How Great Thou Art. I am truly grateful that I can now say that I know what is being talked about in this hymn when it states, “I hear the rolling thunder”.

Being a western girl, I never knew what I was missing out on. The best storm that I ever heard before moving to Tennessee was at the beginning of Garth Brook’s The Thunder Rolls track.

When I first moved to Tennessee, we had a brief stay at LG’s deceased grandmother’s empty home. She had died the year previous and it became a very nice stopover for us while we looked for a home to buy. Grandma’s house was two doors down from my in-laws and this too was nice for me since LG was living 90 miles away while attending law school.

The house was a three bedroom rambler and comfortable. It always felt a little empty until LeGrand came home on the weekends. One night, I startled him out of his sleep. I guess I was totally disoriented when I shook him and said, “LeGrand, LeGrand, someone is upstairs. What is that noise? Do you hear it? You have to go and check on it.” Remember Grandma’s house was a rambler: it didn’t have an upstairs.

LG rolled over and said, “Alice, there isn’t anyone upstairs, go back to sleep, it is just the thunder.”

Poor Bambi

The Classic: Bambi

On Monday, I took the kids to Sam’s Club. I ever so slyly put the newly released Bambi in the bottom of the buggy (that is what they call a shopping cart in TN). I even turned it upside down, so that if the kids did see it, tbey wouldn’t know what it was. (I wanted to give it to them for Easter from the Easter Bunny)

I succeeded at hiding it from them for about 15 minutes. As soon as we stopped at the snack bar, it was over. Abigail, caught eye of it, picked it up, and announced to her sisters: “Look you guys, mom is getting us Bambi.”

About an hour later, after I had managed to put several other things in the buggy too (including Abigail and Sophia), I started to feel guilty about the money I was going to spend. I put several things back, including Bambi. The girls were sorely diasappointed, but I told them that we would come back and get it when dad was with us.

As we were going to check out, Abigail and Sophia glued themselves to the TV monitor that was playing Bambi. (Aren’t those Sam’s Club people smart?) It was at this point that all of my guilt subsided. (I knew that I would have to buy Bambi, if I ever wanted to get out of the store) I told Abigail to get Bambi off the shelf again, and after the girls cheered for a second or two, we were off.

Buying a new movie is HEAVEN to a mother. When we got home, the baby went down for a nap and Abigail and Sophia proceeded to glue themselves to our TV. I was able to get some cleaning and other household duties accomplished without any interruption.

Well, later, as we sat down for dinner, I asked Sophia what she thought about the movie. I fully expected some kind of reaction. I was totally traumatized by the show when I was little and Sophia is my most sensitive child. I was totally taken off guard when I heard her response.

Sophia said,”I like Bambi.” I happily said,”Good, what was your favorite part?” I thought that she would say Thumper or Flower the Skunk. No, this is what my twisted child said,”My favorite part was when Bambi’s mom died.” What in the world?!?! In a worried tone, hoping that she could redeem herself somehow, I asked her frantically, “Why was that your favorite part?” She said,”I just like it because I don’t want Bambi to have a mom.”

Who knows? Maybe my-three-year old was going for the reaction or maybe she needs some serious therapy. Maybe Sophia should grow up to be a hunter and join the Bambi Killers Club. I could only conclude one thing from the conversation, Disney has a conspiracy against mothers. First, they force us into buying their movies with their very skilled marketing. Second, mothers are allowed a false sense of relief when the kids happily sit and watch a Disney movie for hours on end. Then they pump anti-mother doctrine into our kids…think about it:

Disney killed Bambi’s mom. Cinderella’s step-mom is EVIL, and who knows what happened to her real mom. Belle doesn’t have a mom. Mulan wants to be like her dad. The only conversations between Ariel and her parents were with her dad. Sleeping Beauty’s mother poisons her with an apple. Tarzan’s mom got eaten by a tiger. Nemo’s mom…. well, you get the picture. Poor Bambi. Poor Mother of Bambi!!

WT

Abigail’s “Barbie” blanket

Here’s another confession. Not a proud parenting moment.

When we moved with our three kids to Tennessee, I was plagued with anxiety about how people would view me and my family of 5. I think I was justified, as to the fact that we live on $12,000 of student loans a year + whatever wages my husband can scrape up in his spare time during the school year and summers. [The big fat greedy lawyers do not pay clerks enough. Whenever LG is high and mighty, he is going to fork over some cash to those starving students. Or, maybe he won’t, maybe it is some kind of passage of rite: if you can make it through law school alive, then you deserve a decent salary.]

Well, embarassingly enough, I was heard to encourage my children not to do certain things in fear of fitting into the “poor” role. I would give them good advice like: wear your shoes, brush your teeth, comb your hair, don’t say bad words, be nice to your friends…..all good pieces of motherly advice. Sometimes, I would put a little add-on at the end, “Now, you don’t want people to think that we are white-trash.”

One night, we were all taking a late drive home. It was a sure thing that all the girls would fall asleep on the hour and a half drive. Abigail had gotten her pants really dirty or wet so that she didn’t want to wear them on the long drive. We were caught without a change of clothes and so we told her to just take her pants off and put her blanket (pictured above) over her legs to cover her up. She was satisfied with the solution to the problem.

Well, we ended up needing to take a potty break and a stop for some more baby formula. We stopped in at the local grocer. I wrapped Abigail up and told her to keep herself covered as we ran into the bathroom. Abigail was only about 4 at this time. When she finished her business, she caught me completely off guard when she said matter of factly to me:

“Mom, now, cover me up good, we don’t want anyone to think that I am white trash!”

J.D.

The ONLY tractor

Images Copyrighted by Historylink101.com & found at Story of Farming Page

When you apply for Law School, you have to submit what they call a “personal statement” Well, a friend of ours on a Law School acceptance committee advised LG to do something different that would make him stand out as an applicant. Much like what you see Elle Woods do on Legally Blonde. Now, LG was not about to jump in a hottub in his bathing suit, much less, talk into a camera, tape it, and send it to actual living breathing people. But, we did come up with something to start his statement out with a bang. It is based on a true story.

While growing up in the lush foothills of Northeast Tennessee, I had a small lawn mowing business. The pinnacle of my mowing career was purchasing the Cadillac of lawn mowers, a John Deere. Even today I reminisce about the power of my John Deere and how at ease I would feel at the wheel of it. Shortly after the birth of our second child and several months before graduating with my Bachelor’s, I told my wife I wanted to get a J.D. Initially she thought I intended to discard my degree in Computer Science and become a professional lawn mower. I quickly assured her that what I meant by J.D. was Juris Doctorate, not John Deere.

That’s so Special!

It’s a GREAT word

We have taught our kids to use the word special. They each have a SPECIAL drawer where they can put their SPECIAL things. We have taught our kids that each one of them is SPECIAL. Each of them are different and they each have SPECIAL talents. They have their favorite SPECIAL clothes and toys. You get the picture. The word special works for almost everything.

Special didn’t work out so great last year when we were at Dollywood. We were all walking past the River Raft ride, trying to work our way through the crowd. Right next to us, there was a man with a wooden shoe. You know, one of his legs was shorter than the other and he wore the shoe to correct the difference of height in his legs.

My daughter was staring this shoe down, and I was trying to drag her away, hoping that she wouldn’t embarass this man. She was so very observant and didn’t appreciate my gesture; she said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Mom, wait, I am trying to see that man’s shoe. He has a SPECIAL shoe!”

What do you do? She was 100% correct. The shoe was very special. She may never see one like it again in her life. I just smiled and said as softly as I could,”You’re right, he does have a special shoe.” and we kept on walking, this time a little bit faster than before.