Someone once said, “Hurry is not of the devil…it is the devil.”  I’m pretty sure they were right.  Some things can’t be hurried, so you might as well enjoy and go with the slow.

For instance, Saturday was a beautiful day…a little cool, a little windy and a lot sunny.  That afternoon I decided to cook a roast.  So, I made a fire in the fireplace and opened the front door.

As the coals were getting right,

  
I added a little grill that I had made, and waited until it got good and hot.

Then I added my roast

 

and let it brown good

  

on both sides. After that, I put it in a black iron dutch oven with some onions and a little liquid,
   
and set it on the hearth.  I put hot coals on the lid, and swapped them out as they cooled to keep the temperature in my ‘oven’ where it needed to be to finish off the roast.  

All that took a while, but because the process could not be hurried, I had a very relaxing afternoon.  I didn’t multi-task, but focussed only on making sure I had plenty of good coals, and maintaining the oven temperature.  

After several hours of tending the fire, relaxing on the sofa, and enjoying the breeze blowing through the room from outside, my roast was done.

  
Yes, it was TASTY AND TENDER.  So, go with the slow…it’s a good thing.

For the past nine years, Joel and I have been grandparents.  And, the grandchildren have called us Mammy and Papa. But there’s always one

  
that walks to a different beat. For us, that would be Josie.  For the last couple of months,

  
she has called us Joel and Susan, which sounds really funny coming from a little girl in her mid threes.

Not long ago, she was at our house. The two of us were alone on the porch.  In the best grown-up voice and posture she could conjure up, Josie initiated this conversation:

Josie – “So, you’re Susan, right?”

Me – “Yes.”

Josie – “And who’s your man?”

Me – “Joel.”

Josie – “Joel, that’s right, Joel.”

I never cracked a smile, because I was trying to be grown-up too.

Then, last week, she was admiring my ring.

  
She said, “I love your ring.”  I thanked her and told her that it was my wedding ring. Then I said, “You know…Im married to Joel.”

With a bewildered look on her face she said, “Oh.  That’s so sad.” 

That time I didn’t keep a straight face.
 
  

 If you’ve been in Protestant circles, you know that a fifth Sunday is a good excuse for an eatin’ or a singin’ or both.  Such was the case last Sunday at 

  
The Church in the Valley in Wears Valley, Tennessee.  And we were there.  In fact, it was the reason we came back to Tennessee when we did.  You see,

  
Tim, down at Smoky Mountain Grocery knew we would be back in a couple of months, and asked if we could come the last weekend in January.  We could…we did…and

  

we sat on the row with him and his family.

We knew before we came that there would be dinner on the grounds…but what we didn’t know was that they had invited a bluegrass gospel group to sing.  The group was Ray Ball and Family, which consisted of Ray, his sister Annette, her husband Dennis and David.

I’ve always heard that everybody has a twin somewhere.  I found mine in 1993 on the Bay Area Rapid Transit in San Fransisco.  Ray probably has one too.  But if you need to make a positive identification, ask to see the left hand, because in December of 1958, Ray blew off three fingers with a dynamite cap.

  

Anyway…back to the group.
  
In true Appalachian style, they shared their music in soulful three AND four part harmony.  They were a blessing!

  

Then, after a short sermon, we went in the back for lunch.
  
Members of the congregation furnished the sides, and Dakota Jack furnished the meat. 

I regret that WordPress doesn’t come with a scratch and sniff feature, because words cannot adequitely describe the heavenly aroma of Jack’s bar-b-que.

After lunch, as everyone was going their separate ways, Joel asked Annette if the group had any cd’s.  She thought that there might be one in her car, so we followed her into the parking lot.  Sure enough, she emerged from the back seat with one in her hand. 

    

On the way to our car, we stopped to talk to Ray.  We held up the cd, and said, “She found one”.  He replied, “Oh good!  You know… they made them for us down at the funeral home.”

A couple of years ago, Joel and I walked the eleven mile

  
Cades Cove loop.  We probably won’t do  it again…just sayin’.  We LOVE Cades Cove and hang out there a lot when we visit the Smokies.

Today was one of those days. The weather was perfect!

  
We drove about  half a mile past the Missionary Baptist Church and parked.  Our mission was to go for a walk and enjoy our surroundings.  Since Piper was with us, we stayed on the road, because in the National Park, dogs can only go where cars can go.

I’d like to share our journey with you.

  

  

   

  
  
  
  
  
We walked as far as the parking area for the Elijah Oliver cabin, and then walked back to the car. It was only a couple of miles…not far…just far enough 

  
to make you hungry.

Yesterday, we rolled into Wears Valley, Tennessee to enjoy the scenery and the people for a week.  We are staying in a cabin that we’ve not stayed in before.  Its small…with only one bedroom…and pet friendly.  (We wanted to bring Piper this time.)

 
The front yard is perfect for him to chase frisbees.

This morning we headed up to Newfound Gap to see if there was any snow left over from the weather that blew through here over the weekend.  And there was.  

  
The drive up the mountain was beautiful,

  

  
and we stopped several times to walk around

  

and to admire the icesickles.  

It was 23 degrees at Newfound Gap,

 

   

and the sky was a gorgeous  blue.

As we walked around, Piper took it upon himself to be
  
 

the “parking lot greeter”.

We stopped once on the way down the mountain for me to take a photograph …which I never got.  You see, on my way down a little embankment, I took a step and sunk up to my rear in snow.  When I finally climbed out of that, Joel asked, “Do you want to stop at another place?”  I said, “Nope, I’m over it.  Let’s go.”
  

Josie is all about everything princess.  As a matter of fact, she probably owns costumes for every princess whose maiden name is Disney.  Besides that, I think she met most of them last month in Florida.

 
  
AND…had an appointment at what she calls the 

  
Bibby Bobby Tique…otherwise known as the Bibbity Bobbity Boutique…

 

where she had a Tinker Bell makeover.

Before all that, Josh’s bunch joined us in Tennessee.  One night after her bath, Josie crawled into my bed and said, “Mammy, smell my breath.  It smells like a princess.”  I didn’t know it at the time, but she had just brushed her teeth with a Cinderella toothbrush.  So, it stood to reason that her breath would smell like a princess.

The next day we all went sightseeing. I happened to snap a picture of Josie and Josh on the trail above The Sinks.  When I looked at the image on my phone, I noticed

  
a purple light shining down on Josie.  For a brief moment I thought, “Good grief, she really is a princess”. 

But, whether that meant that she REALLY IS a princess, or whether it was just the way the light was shining,

  
she’ll always be a princess to me…no matter what her breath smells like.

  
  

  

When we visit the Smoky Mountains, we spend a LOT of time in Cade’s Cove. There was a time when the Cove was home to a community of around seven hundred people, whose lives were anything but easy.  Now, it is quiet…and if you try, you can almost see gostlike images of those residents going about their routines.

Tuesday evening we drove there….just to hang out…to soak in the atmosphere that is uniquely Cades Cove.  As you scroll through the images perhaps you can get of sense of why we keep returning to this idyllic place.

 
    

  
  
   

  

When I am there, I think of these words written by Tony Hillerman:

“Memorize places. Settle your eyes on a place and learn it. Feel it and smell it, walk on it and touch the stones, and it will be with you forever. When you are far away, you can call it back. When you need it, it is there in your mind.” 

The other day I mentioned Preacher,

  
who is the pastor of The Church in the Valley
   

in Wears Valley, Tennessee.  That’s where Tim goes,

  
and it was Tim who invited us to join them at that little church on Sunday.  So, we did. 

 

Were were glad to see Dakota Jack there (Tim introduced us to him two years ago).  Jack’s wife

  
plays the organ.

When the service started, 

  
we sang together,

  
shared communion,

 and listened as Preacher spoke to us
   
using as his text Matthew chapter 2.

But before all that happened, Preacher announced that

  
Debbie, who was sitting in front of us, was celebrating her birthday.

Don’t you know he called on ME … who had never set foot in that church until that day… to sing Happy Birthday to that woman!

I looked at him and asked, “Are you serious?” 

 He said, “Yes”.

Thank goodness I knew the words!

We like to build relationships with people wherever we go on vacation.  For instance, in the Smokey Mountains there’s

  
Tim, who owns the Smokey Mountain Grocery

  
(the building with the green roof).  This was taken from the porch at our cabin.

Yesterday morning we went there to get a few supplies.  While there we asked about ‘Preacher’, a local minister that Tim had introduced us to…and quite a character I must add.

Tim’s son plays basketball on the middle school team, and Preacher always rides with them when there is an away game.  

The night before, there had been one of those away games..

    He and Preacher were sitting together watching the game, which Tim said was poorly officiated.

Then it happened…the moment Tim had always dreaded and hoped would never become a reality.  Suddenly, in an involuntary response to a decision by the referee, he jumped up and yelled one word.  Well, it was a compound word…one that hung in the air above a now silent, seated crowd.  There was no doubt who had said it.  ALL eyes were on Tim.

After what seemed like forever, the silence was broken when the lady behind him to his right began to laugh.   Then…

  
the people all around him began to move away.

  
They parted just like the Red Sea.  I hope Preacher stuck by him…but he didn’t say.

 I read an article in The Free Range Life called “Five Reasons NOT to Own Guinea Fowl”.  This is reason number five:

5. They are stupid. Okay, I don’t like the word stupid. I try not to use it often, but unintelligent just doesn’t get the point across. I am pretty sure that guinea fowl are one of the stupidest animals I have ever met. They have no sense of self preservation and when they get scared or separated it’s like their brains fly out the window. 

Now, I like Guinea fowl, but I’m going to have to agree with reason number five.

Yesterday, my last guinea got out of the pen.  All day long she paced the fence trying to get back in.  She could have easily flown in, since that’s probably how she got out…but, reason number five.

Piper, who enjoys chasing poultry

about as much as he loves chasing a frisbee, knew she was out. He had seen her that morning when I was feeding the chickens. 

Yesterday afternoon, I let Piper out of the house to go with me to take the trash to the end of the driveway.  He had NOT forgotten about that guinea. He had no intention of helping me with the trash, and took off to find her.

He ran her around the barn, through the field, behind the greenhouses and to an old pond. I wasn’t too concerned because Piper’s not in it for the kill…only the chase.

Then, I learned something.

  
Guineas can swim.  So can Piper, so the chase was still on.

Most of the time I can get  Piper to mind, but when an opportunity like this arises…not so much.

  
He swam circles around that poor bird, and

  
they parted duckweed from one end of that pond to the other.

  
Then they settled in one spot with Piper still swimming circles and wanting her to play.  It didn’t matter how much I called him or how many sticks I tossed his way, I could not break his concentration. 

Then the guinea stopped moving.  I thought she was playing possum…but she had played out.  Then she sank beneath the duckweed.

Piper STILL swam in circles, but this time he was trying to locate her. In a few minutes, he ducked under and came up with the bird.  He swam to the bank where he put her down.  He didn’t mean for her to die. He had had plenty of opportunities to do her in…he just wanted to play.