Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans, cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of. Contact me at theyoungfamily (at) earthlink (dot) net . . . . . . . . . .
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» Thursday, November 20, 2014
We Do Knox
Well, we did get up early, and even Trish commented upon it when we entered the restaurant! Hoever, we still didn't get to Knoxville until 11:30. We went "the back way," which should have gotten us to Knoxville way before eleven, but we stopped for gas. Then the seat on the Rollator popped up during the drive. Not only was I worried about it coming off somehow, but the minute it did pop up you could feel the car fighting against it; it was forming a dive brake back there. We stopped at the side of the freeway, and then again a few miles up at the Russell Stover store because 12-ounces of milk and a small glass of orange juice had done its work, and the stupid seat had popped up again. But finally it was secure. We stopped at McKay's Used Books, just off I-40, and had a great couple of hours browsing. I probably overdid it, but I still didn't finish up all my credit, and I paid for James' books, too, including a $12 cloud atlas he's been wanting. I mean, Mencken's The American Language and its supplement, which is as thick, or perhaps thicker, for $8 total? A German Christmas album featuring James Galway? A book called Trench Talk about World War I vocabulary? A history book about American women and another about Victorian women? A Noel Streatfeild? A Christmas gift? I didn't find the other two Bray Lassie books I wanted, or any "Dear America" I didn't have, but...them's the breaks at used bookstores. We had lunch at Texas Roadhouse; they have something they call an early dinner, $9 for nine different dishes. We both had yummy six-ounce sirloins, mine with applesauce and sauteed onions. James had mushrooms and corn with his. Excellent rolls as well. Then I did a quick run at A.C. Moore; I always take advantage of being in a Moore town, because they definitely have different stock from JoAnn and Michael's. However, it's obvious they will never carry the little wooden embellishments, about postage-stamp size, that I used to love, and unique items were very thin this year: I did get a new Christmas banner although I don't want to get rid of my Father Christmas, even though he's getting quite yellow. This has birds all over a Christmas mailbox, which will tell you why I was attracted to it. Also got some pretty chains, some small cross-stitch frames, Rhode Island (!!!!) and New Hampshire scrapbook stickers (ironically they had no Tennessee), and something for James. Then we drove back to Sevierville. Instead of going down "Glitter Gulch" (even though it was around three and not crowded), I headed back down Dolly Parton Parkway to head back to the cabin via the opposite end of our back route into town. But I made a wrong turn. This was actually fortuitous because we ended up on the East Parkway just as we wanted to, just a little closer to Gatlinburg, and we drove through some nice countryside: some suburban-looking clusters of homes, but more often woods, mountainsides, fields of cattle and pastures with horses, little crossroads with local convenience stores and gas stations, and for several miles we paralleled the river. It was all very pleasant, and we still arrived back at the cabin before dark. I am going to miss walking Tucker up and down the road! Last year, about midweek someone came and cleaned out the dead leaves on either side (cabins on one side, the laundry shed on the other), but it is still thick with a plush carpet of leaves. Either Tucker is imagining things, or there are little field mice or chipmunks or something scurrying under them. I spent ten minutes tonight convulsed by his freezing, then pouncing, like the fox in the snow in the Yellowstone Park Christmas video, on where he "hears" something moving underneath. He buries his nose in the leaves and snuffles and snorts, then wheels and leaps and pounces again. It's better than television. |