Rain

Another day I went to the library and checked out a few videos, one of which was Persepolis. While I watched the movie it started to rain, so I took a picture of the rain falling off the roof.

I am procrastinating now. I should be vacuuming the house and doing one more load of laundry and packing up my belongings and emptying the fridge, but here I am writing about rain and thinking about the two apocalyptic type movies I've watched in the last two days. For example, The Happening. That movie is not amazing, but the idea of some sort of something that leads to people committing suicide in mass numbers is rather terrifying. The whole 'where do I go, how do I stay safe' mentality; the whole 'I am in the country and the plants may be out to get me mindset'. Then I watched 28 Days Later, and thought about the whole 'zombies in our midst, army willing to kill us at all costs' perspective. I generally feel safe in my life, though aware of the things that could happen that would make me less safe. But those sorts of things (robbery, rape, murder), random as they can be, are an acknowledged reality of society, while crazy neurotoxins and zombie disease are not, which is exactly why one watches movies that feature that sort of subject matter: to learn what to do in their eventuality, ha. I don't know what I'm talking about anymore. Now I'm just thinking about what I would do if some crazy thing happened in Philadelphia. Would it be realistic to think I could get all the way to Tennessee? Would it be realistic to think that it would be safer there? Would gas stations still work? Would I be running from a recognizable enemy. Sigh. Too much crazy.

Pea Soup, Lasagna and Cobbler

On Wednesday J.D., my cousin and his wife came over for dinner. I tried making a soup from my mother's soup bible (seriously, this book has a jillion different soups!), combining an element from one recipe --arugula pesto-- with another recipe --cold pea soup-- this turned out really well. The pea soup was delicate in flavor, a little sweet, while the arugula pesto, with the earthiness of the arugula and the potency of garlic (and a little parmesan and pine nuts, of course) added a little punch and complexity to the dish.
For the lasagna, I made a meat sauce. I would have liked to make the same meat sauce as I made a few months back (lamb, chorizo, beef etc) but the grocery stores around these parts don't have ground lamb or chorizo, so I made due with hot italian sausage and ground beef. I also processed the ricotta with garlic and basil to give it a little more depth. Then I layered the hell out of the thing and stuck it in the oven. I also cobbled together a salad of mixed greens, tomatoes, onions from J.'s father in law and hearts of palm. A few days later I made a similar salad and used the left over pesto, mixed with white wine vinegar, as the dressing...that was a very good idea.
C. made a delicious cobbler with blackberries and pears, topped with whipped cream.
I gave all the lasagna away to my guests because I knew I had enough left over sauce and cheese to make another, smaller, dish, which I did the next day:
Mmmm.
Thanks to J.D., H. and C. for coming.

That's Some Sweet Tea...With Bourbon

So back when I visited L. in Brooklyn, I had the opportunity to have a bourbon with sweet tea. At that point I decided that the beverage would be my summer drink. Yet I never quite got around to making the simple syrup that (omg, as I was typing I saw not one but two pileated woodpeckers!) is integral to the effective making of sweet tea, nor did I buy any bourbon. Once I got down here I had similar plans to enact this summer drink but at first I did not win because I couldn't find my parents regular sugar. It was sad, I cried a little. But then! Then I emailed the parents and they directed me towards the sugar and then it was on for real. I made enough simple syrup for the tea and a hummingbird feeder. I took three Lipton tea bags (two peach flavored, one regular) and steeped them in some water. Then, with magic in my heart, I filled a pitcher (it wasn't really a pitcher but I can't think of the right word for what it is) with the simple syrup and ice before pouring the tea in it and stirring. Once that feat was complete I took a jigger of bourbon and put it into a glass then poured the sweet tea on in, plopping in a few ice cubes to boot, and garnished with a lemon.
The bourbon and lemon cut the sweet just a little, which was good since it was some sweet, sweet tea. Mmmm, mmm.

One Part Terrified, One Part Prepared

Wednesday (that's the day the chipmunk stuff happened as well) I was vacuuming the same corner that Zul had used to get the chipmunk in line when I moved a curtain a little to see this terribly large spider.
Two years ago I had an experience with a spider down here that still haunts me, so I was prepared. Being prepared, in this case, means running to quickly get a quarter in order to help people gauge the size of this monstrous arachnid. Being prepared, in this case, means knowing that the chances of killing this spider without nine million more popping up were pretty well non-existent.
So I took pictures of the thing then left it alone. I thought about vacuuming it, but then imagined a colony of spiders living inside my mother's vacuum cleaner and decided that was more terrifying than just leaving the spider in the corner, which is exactly what I did.

House Chipmunk

Earlier this week I took a picture, or two, of the house.

A little while later I was inside doing something when Zul ran like a cat out of hell towards one of the back doors. For anyone who has spent any time with this particular cat, you know that running isn't, generally speaking, a big part of Zul's personality. I took notice and went to investigate. Turns out a little chipmunk had found its way into the house and Zul had cornered it quite effectively. I grabbed the massive cat and threw him into the bathroom, my mind racing for easy solutions for getting a terrified chipmunk out of the house without being bitten or attacked. Turns out that getting rid of the cat was all the prompting the chipmunk needed, it raced out the door from which it entered making a particularly high pitched squealing noise as it went. It then spent some quality time catching its breath by the bird bath.
J.D made an excellent point later that day when he asked why it was that most people find chipmunks cute while they aren't overly fond of squirrels and rats. My answer? Chip and Dale. Screw Alvin and those punkass chipmunks.

Poor Lil Bird

The other day I walked out onto the rock and looked to my left and down. I saw a dead bird. This bird, in fact. I don't know what kind of bird it is (I never do).
Very gray. Grey. Gray. I like g-r-e-y better than g-r-a-y but the latter is more correct, I think?
Poor little bird.
I then took a shovel and flung it into the woods. I'm not sure that was the proper or humane or respectful thing to do, but it's what I did.

How You Get Here

Someone got to my site by googling this phrase:

"i have eaten a glass before 20 days. but nothing happend to me. why?"

Wow.

Birdy Birds

So, Tennessee is lovely and beautiful. I haven't really gotten out and about as much as I sometimes do...for no good reason, other than my preference for reading books in the sun. But that hasn't stopped me from seeing plenty of great things. Blue birds, for example, are pretty much everywhere.
And two days back I put up a hummingbird feeder and since then I have seen millons of the dang things...but they move so quick I haven't been able to get a single picture. But they are ruby throated, and that is super neat and this morning two of them were chasing each other around like tiny little fighter planes. Awesome.

Wedding Picnic by the Lake and an Anecdote

On Sunday I drove over to Clifftops because J.D.'s sister had been married the day before and now there was a day-after-wedding picnic at the Clifftops lake. I realized that, though I've passed the entrance to Clifftops for years, I had no idea how massive the gated community is...I mean, they have a lake! A really beautiful one.
There were massive amounts of sausage that glistened happily in the sun.
Deviled eggs were present.
Mmmm, sausage.
Mmm, cupcakes.
I got there while they were still setting up and so I tried to pitch in a little (I moved a car and placed some sunflowers on tables) but the event was pretty well covered. During introductions I explained that I lived in Philadelphia but that my parents lived in Sewanee, which leads naturally to a question of who my parents are. I answer that question then explain that my grandmother was 'Dr. Betty'. One woman in the mix then told me a great little anecdote:

She had had her first or second child and there were complications. When she asked her Nashville doctor if she could have any more children, he responded that it was possible only under optimal conditions. The lady then asked what, exactly, would make optimal conditions...and he replied, 'well is Doctor Betty still practicing?'.

Boom.

Pretty, Bocci Ball and Salad

We returned from our swimming time and soon after had fresh strawberry dacquiris.
We walked down to the cave and then along the stream that comes from it.
Then C. showed me her new gardening area project. Her plan is to put flagstone down in this gravel area that is surrounded (though you can't see this) by all sorts of flowers and things. I noted that the gravel would make an excellent bocci court and, of course, mentioned the fact that I had the game in my car. So C. was willing to play while my cousin H. was willing to sit with hs dacquiri and keep score. Though it was not a competitive game, I won 8-3.
Then we had a nice salad with all sorts of tasty.
My cousin made this face, and when I said it was going on the blog he seemed prepared for blog stardom. Ha.

Extras

I took these photographs as we returned to the parking lot. I think this picture more properly shows you the whole stairs/tall/rock thing.
Mountain Laurel, I do believe?
I wouldn't, in nine million years, jump off of the falls but I have quite a few relatives who, in their youth, were more confident/brave/stupid than myself and have lived to tell the tale.

Greeter Falls

We, three adults and three dogs, piled into my cousin's car and headed out to South Cumberland State Park. It's a little bit of a drive--45 minutes to an hour--but hoowhee, it's a pretty one. The walk to the falls isn't rigorous, though it is steep in parts. The dogs were particularly flummoxed by the spiral staircase that gets one from the top of a cliff type thing down to where the pool is. I am not afraid of heights, but this is not without a measure of ugh...The stairs are bolted into a rock and that is what is keeping them upright. A rock.
When we arrived there were a bunch of middle aged hikers/campers but the dogs cleared them out...not really, I think they left because they were done swimming.
This meant that, for a brief period, we had the falls and pool all to ourselves.
Lightning was not big on swimming, and found a way to get to the falls without getting overly wet.


This is me in front of the waterfall...the water falling feels like needles pounding onto your head and shoulders, but in a cool refreshing way.
Seriously, I would be the best otter ever. You give me a clam, I'll swim around on my back pawing at the thing.
All three dogs were pleased with the outing, I think.
Gorgeous. That's what this is.

Meander

On Saturday I drove on down to Roark's Cove to meet up with my cousin and his wife. We were meeting up so's we could go to Greeter Falls for a little swimming. I got to their place early, knowing they were out buying a mower, and took a stroll around the property.
If apocalypse came, this is one spot I'd surely try to get to.
Again, my lack of gardening prowess does not make me a hater. The time H. and C. put into making their land so enviable is not lost on me. I wish I could say that I would be as active in landscaping any land I might purchase, but the truth is that would probably do the most rudimentary of planting, never put together a unified visual, olfactory and tactile experience. What? My problem is that if I see something pretty, I want to sit in it without having to maintain or support it.

Bumble, bumble.
I'm a little bummed about being in Tennessee now - as opposed to later in the summer - because I'm going to miss fresh corn and tomatoes. I'd cry about it, but look at all I get to see. I know when I'm lucky.

Things I have seen in my back yard or in others': at least three different kinds of wood peckers (big and pileated among them), blue tailed skinks, red finches, deer, one foxoyote, countless blue birds, terrifyingly large bugs, a hawk or falcon with black and white tail feathers, a shower spider, chipmunks, bluejays, birds with names I don't know etc.
After taking photographs, I plopped into a hammock and read a book (Richard Price's Freedomland...I've been reading this book for months, I can't not know how it ends, but I don't particularly care) in the sun until they arrived.

Bad Food, Great View

A few days back I drove down to Winchester/Decherd to pick up some supplies. I also stopped at Burger King and ordered a whopper with cheese. I then drove back up the mountain (plateau, whatever), stopping at the big scenic view rock situated about half way up. I don't think I've ever stopped before, or if I have it was when I was wee little.

The whopper was exactly what it was, which was exactly what I was looking for. So I win.