Baby Turnips

 Despite the disappointment of the peas, the fall garden DOES have some really nice things happening, and turnips are among them. 

These are some baby ones we pulled to thin our row of purple-topped globe turnips. Jack cooked these whole in the InstantPot with a double-handful of ham-hock flibberts, and they were delicious.

With cornbread.

Let's Have Lunch! The Readyville Mill

From our connections on Facebook, Jack and I have heard nothing but good things about the food and service at The Readyville Mill in neighboring Cannon County, so when our good buddy, Brad, invited us to meet him for brunch there on Sunday, we wasted no time in saying, "Yes!"

The original mill was built in 1812 on the banks of the Stones River by town founder, Charles Ready, and was purchased by his daughter and her husband shortly after his death in 1859, only a few years before the mill was burned to the ground during the Civil War.

After the war, the mill was rebuilt and continued grinding corn and wheat for the next century. Over the years, the mill had a number of ownership changes, but continued to be operational until 1978 when it was closed despite having gained designation on the National Registry of Historic Places in 1973.

Jack actually remembers going to the mill as a child with his family and his mother purchasing bags of corn meal there.

The mill and surrounding structures sat empty and quiet until 2006 when the mill was purchased by its current owners, the Bradys, who began an extensive, three-year renovation and restoration to bring the Readyville Mill back to its former glory and more.

In 2009, it reopened as not only a functional grist mill but also a restaurant and event venue for social occasions like weddings and parties and has been gaining fans and patrons since then.

When we arrived at the hostess desk, we were asked if we had reservations, which we didn't. After being informed of a forty-five minute wait for seating, we were invited to explore the property and enjoy ourselves, which was easy and enjoyable on a beautiful, autumn day.

The grounds are lovely in a natural, unforced way. Structure and form are provided by a handsome limestone hill to the east side and the Stones River to the west. The displays of ancient machinery and other rusted treasure are organic and unforced. It's a beautiful place.

Once seated in the open, comfortable space of the dining room, service was prompt, friendly, and surprisingly unrushed, considering the burgeoning crowd accumulating outside.

The menu includes selections for breakfast, brunch, and lunch, but all three of us stuck to the breakfast menu, because that's what all of our friends told us to do, and peer pressure is a real thing.

Omelets are also a real thing, and this was a real omelet - three eggs with the cheese of my choice (Swiss) and mighty chunks of ham. Breakfast entrees come with two sides, and my choices were grits with smoked Gouda cheese and a short stack of "cinnamon swirl pancakes," which might seriously be my very favorite pancakes ever. I left omelet and grits on my plate, because the servings were so generous, but I made those pancakes freaking disappear - they were indescribably delicious, and I will eat them again. Soon.

The price of a meal is comparable to chains like Cracker Barrel and IHOP, but the quality of both food and experience is echelons higher and rank among the top of what Jack and I have eaten out in the past year.

Go there.

A Spring Break Story: Fishing with the Anderson Boys

Sometimes you go to Georgia, and sometimes you have visitors from Georgia.

Or as Lucia spells it "Joja."

Jack's brother, Dickie, and his family live on St. Simons Island. Unfortunately, we don't get to see them as often as we'd like, so we were elated to receive an e-mail from Dickie last week, telling us that he and our nephew, Jack, were considering a Spring Break fishing trip to Center Hill Lake. 

We sent some information about places to stay and eat and offered whatever concierge services we could provide, and late Wednesday afternoon, Dickie and Nephew Jack arrived at Lakeside, a rustic resort up the lake from us on the other side of Smithville.

Husband Jack and I were on the way home from Cookeville when Dickie called to let us know they'd made it, and we quickly arranged to meet-up for dinner at The Rose Garden Restaurant at Silver Point, which is only ten minutes from Lakeside and on our way home. Incidentally, The Rose Garden also has some of the tastiest fried catfish in these parts, and we knew it was sure to be a hit with the Georgia boys.

Over dinner, we strategized the best plans for fishing on Thursday and Friday, in consideration of quirky weather and rain in the forecast for late Thursday night into Friday. Figuring that Thursday would be the best day for boat fishing, we parted ways with plans to regroup on a rented boat sometime the following day.

Lakeside wasn't able to make direct arrangements for a boat, but Dickie was able to rent a boat at nearby Edgar Evins State Park, and shortly before 11:00, we were on our way to the park with tackle, cameras, and a picnic in hand.

The boat was nice, clean, and had plenty of room for more than the four of us and our gear. Life jackets were provided, and there were appropriate sizes for all kinds of passengers from babies on up. Because we didn't arrive at the marina until noon and the boat had to be returned by 4:00 p.m., we weren't able to travel far up the lake (or is it down the lake?), but we did get to see Center Hill Dam from the water, which I haven't done in a LONG time, and found a couple of nice spots to fish on Indian Creek. The wind made the water choppy, so it took us a little longer than it would've on a calm day, plus Dickie's hat blew off his head and into the lake, and we spent a good ten minutes fruitlessly attempting to rescue it. 

Dickie in his Southern Soul Barbecue hat.

Minutes later, searching for Dickie's hat.

Maybe this summer someone will find it on the bank, wash it, and give it a good home. 

Husband Jack scored the first catch of the day, a nice little Smallmouth Bass, and when he hooked another one later on in the afternoon, he quickly handed his rod and reel over to Nephew Jack to let him land the fish.

When the fish flopped off the hook and landed it the floor of the boat, I scooped it up and showed Jack how to hold it by the lip for long enough to get his picture made.

The Jacks caught a few more little bluegill, we saw a water snake from a safe distance, and then it was time to head back to the marina. We arrived just at 4 o'clock, and the rental guy was nice enough to help us get our things unloaded.

The plan for Friday was to stream fish for trout - Nephew Jack got a new flyrod for Christmas that he hadn't yet used, and he hoped to catch his first trout with it on this trip, but strong thunderstorms in the wee hours of the morning and the arrival of a cold front made fishing difficult.

Because of the rain and wet in the morning hours, we again waited until midday to get underway, meeting for a tasty lunch at Collins River Barbecue in McMinnville before wetting our lines in the Barren Fork River below the dam at Pepper Branch Park.

The sun came out, and the weather was absolutely delightful, as were our attitudes, but other than a couple of bluegill caught by Jack and Jack and one weird little skinny fish I managed to catch, we came up empty handed.

Next on the list was Sink Creek at Keltonburg, a place to fish on the way back to Smithville. When Jack and I had passed the creek on our way to lunch, the water was lively but still clear enough to fish. By the time we returned in the afternoon, the creek had swollen and turned into a swirling, muddy mess. Undaunted, our fishermen trudged down to the infamous mill pond, and I'll just say this - if Jack Anderson can't catch a trout in the falls there, nobody can. 

Jack doing a roll-cast with his flyrod.

The boys fished, and I prowled the landscape with my camera.

The fishing was disappointing, but we all had a wonderful time just being together on a fabulous Spring afternoon.

Before Dickie and Jack departed for home this morning, we treated them to a big family breakfast on the farm with Mom and Dad. Jack made homemade biscuits. We fried bacon and made a big pan of scrambled eggs. Mom tripped to Smithville for some hot, fresh donuts and had put together a nice fruit salad. We all laughed and visited together as long as we could, and then it was time for the boys to load up and start the trip home.

They've promised to be back - if not in the fall, definitely again next Spring. 

We're already looking forward to their return.

Photos from this adventure are at this link:

2015 Spring Break with Dickie and Jack

Iron Man

When Jack and I got "serious" and he started introducing me to his old friends, they told me stories about Jack's younger days, and throughout the years, I've heard multiple versions of different tales, but one vein has consistently run throughout the whole narrative - Jack has always been a cook.

The year Jack and I got engaged, we attended a party at the home of the Assistant Scoutmaster of Jack's old Boy Scout troop, and he told this wonderful story about Jack Anderson's first camping trip. When dinnertime came, and the other boys were pulling hot dogs and canned soup from their packs to heat over the fire, Jack broke out a cast iron skillet. And a steak. 

Since then I've heard similar stories from Jack's scouting years as told by a diverse assortment of his troop mates. If Jack was responsible for his own chow and had a pack on his back, he was carrying a real pan and some real food. Country ham, a pork chop, an onion, a potato, salt and pepper. Real. Good. Stuff.

So... fast forward to a few weeks ago when I mentioned that The World's Longest Yard Sale was getting ready to happen and asked, "Do we want to go?"

After little hesitation, Jack said, "Yeah. I really would."

He went on to talk about how he's gotten away from using cast iron in recent years but that nothing holds heat or cooks quite like it and said that he'd really like to pick up a few key pieces. A big skillet with a lid, a Dutch oven, maybe a smaller skillet with legs - he had some things he wanted to look for - 

So, we went.

If you're unfamiliar with The World's Longest Yard Sale, you're missing out. In 1987, the Jamestown/Fentress County (TN) Chamber of Commerce decided to host a county-wide yard sale along Highway 127. Since then it has grown into a multi-state event that stretches from Alabama to Michigan, encompassing 500 some-odd miles of roadway, and providing countless opportunities for trash-to-treasure shopping, people-watching, and balls-to-the-wall Americana.

Within an hour of our arrival in Dunlap, TN, the starting point of our adventure, Jack had found two of the things on his list - a 12-inch skillet and a 4-quart Dutch oven with a flared lid - and good deals were made.

One thing I learned during the course of our day is that old cast iron pieces can be expensive...

At one stop we saw an early 1900's Griswold 20" lidded skillet with a $5000 price tag.

Added together, my first two cars didn't cost that much.

By the end of the day, we had added a #14 skillet to our collection and returned home tired, filthy, and happy.

Initially I didn't understand how paying $90 for a rusty, nasty-looking skillet was anything close to a good deal, but after Jack spent several hours cleaning it with a wire brush, polishing it back to its original lustre, and seasoning it, I started to get the picture. The thing is beautiful, and handy for cooking-up all kinds of good stuff.

Like a whole chicken at once. Or a bunch of fish.

Yes, it's so big that we have to use it on a propane burner outside, but when you're frying, what's better than frying outside where the grease can go where it goes without turning your kitchen into freakin' Captain D's?

There were other finds at the World's Longest Yard Sale that we had to leave behind, but they will live forever in our photos from that day.

For further reading, check out this piece:

Davis Love, III and His Vintage Cast Iron Collection

And this one:

The Long and Winding Road to Treasures

The weather is crazy - warm and wonderful one day; breezy and brisk the next. By starts and stops we are making our way toward spring. Daffodils are blooming all over the place, even though we're still a few days from March.

I'm optimistic that the next few weeks will be uneventful and as normal as possible, but in the back of my head I remember the April ice storm we had six or seven years ago that wiped out a lot of fruit tree blooms and other things which had been coaxed out of hibernation by unseasonably warm weather.

Like we're having now.

I got to hang with Mom and Dad at the Baby House for awhile on Wednesday evening after going to a work function in Cool Springs. It was nice to spend some time with both of them there at the same time. The banquet was long and late, so I didn't have a chance to visit with Lucia, but I'll be over again this coming week and will get some Lu time then.

Earlier today I had to run a couple of errands in town and took my camera with me in case any photo opportunities presented themselves. And they did.

The sky was absolutely gorgeous today - not in the classic sunny, blue sky kind of way - with layer upon layer of scattered clouds that picked up so much color and texture that in the late winter landscape provided plenty of things to shoot.

I detoured home on backroads and encountered some great shadows and light, interesting old structures, cute goats and a spectacular sunset.

I wish Jack could've been along for the ride, but he's still nursing the tooth he broke on Valentine's Day, which has been giving him increasing amounts of pain the last couple of days every time he eats.  His appointment with the oral surgeon is on Monday, so relief is just around the corner, but having to wait two weeks to get this thing taken care of has been a bit ridiculous. He's taking it like a trooper. And we're eating lots of soup.

"Living the Dream"

Did anyone notice that about as soon as I mentioned how we'd had no snow this winter so far in that last blog post, we got snow? Of course there was no accumulation and the only things it managed to accomplish were creating a rush on the bread aisle at the local Food Lion and further dashing the hopes of anyone who hopes to see a nice snow before the winter is over.

We got a few more flakes this morning, but they were wet flakes that melted as soon as they hit the warm ground here on the southeastern tip of the county. Based on a couple of pictures I've seen on facebook today, the fine folks in the downtown area got a little more. But very little. Jack and Pam at the Lake did enjoy sitting here with a fire in the stove, watching the snow fall for what time we had it.

Despite today's nasty weather, we've had a great weekend. I had the day off on Friday, so after taking care of a few things here around the house, we loaded up our gear and hit the road, heading for the Caney Fork River below Center Hill Dam where Jack took the excellent Blue Heron photos I posted last week.

We hoped to see herons again, but with temperatures in the fifties, trout fishermen were everywhere in boats and on foot, there was enough activity going on that the herons were scarce. We did spot a Pileated Woodpecker way-high in a tree, and I managed to catch a couple of frames.

There ARE other things to take pictures of besides birds...

Other things to take pictures of was the whole theme of the little car trip we took yesterday as we backed out of the drive before 9:30 in the morning.

The temperature was nice with a sunny sky overhead when we first embarked on the journey, and we had no idea where to go. We had a couple of ideas for nice photo opportunities in mind - my dear friend, Ward, e-mailed several months ago to tell us about a one-room school house near his family's old farm and told us we should go take pictures there sometime, so I looked up the directions. The route itself was up in the air until one of us mentioned the "Living the Dream" scandal that's been all over the Channel 5 news this week while waiting in line for our Sausage McMuffins at the local McDonald's

"Let's go there!" we both said at the same time, and the route plan came together within a minute.

Repairs to Hurricane Bridge are in progress.

 Driving into Baxter on the "old road", not much appears to have changed.

 Someone is building an interesting eyesore. Jack and I will probably be subject to similar criticism once we start construction of our new home one of these days.

Other things about Baxter have changed quite a bit. 

 This "mama llama" and her baby were sunning in a field. Mama was watchful but not concerned.

Finally we found "Living the Dream", a project currently under scrutiny in the Upper Cumberland region because of the public funds that have been misused in establishing and promoting it. The entrance was open, but we didn't feel all warm and welcome, standing there in the cul de sac with our big cameras hanging around our necks. 

The place is splashy. There's no telling what the grounds maintenance alone costs. And this place is remote. Sure, Putnam County is growing and developing as fast as anywhere, but if my elderly loved one was in the kind of shape that he or she needed to be in assisted living, which is what this unlicensed facility purports to be, I would not want them to be so far from the nearest hospital...

Not wanting to wear out our welcome and needing a pit stop, we moved on down the road toward the rest of the day...

We stopped at a bus graveyard for the sake of curiosity and lack of "No Trespassing" sign --

We ended up in little town of Doyle, which moreso than Baxter hasn't changed but for the devastation to the beautiful mountain to its immediate west by the quarry companies.

We found the farm and one-room schoolhouse much more easily than I found the directions from Ward in my phone's e-mail files.

The school was fascinating. It looks a lot like a church at first glance. It is fairly well-maintained, and we were able to go inside. There was even a nice outhouse - a much-appreciated discovery for both Jack and  me.

Ward's family's old farm was even more interesting to explore and photograph. Those of you who know much about my photography also know that I try to find beauty in abandoned things and the structure in that which has fallen, and the farm was photography heaven. We were there for a good hour, carefully exploring.

With all my heart I find ramshackle sheds and heartworn houses a lot more visually appealing and welcoming than countryside that has been stripped of its trees and dignity and infested with new homes.

I heard Jack's stomach growling as we got back in the car at the farm and suggested that we find something to eat soon, knowing that one of the best hamburgers on the planet was only a stone's throw away. But lunch would be delayed.

On our way to Gribble's Landing, we passed a lovely, well-tended alpaca farm and stopped for pictures.

"Wait.. what?! That isn't an alpaca!!"

Yes, there was also a friendly camel at this farm, and as soon as we stopped the car, she got up and quickly ambled our direction for some attention.

She was soft and friendly and really seemed to enjoy getting her picture taken. She was so delightful that I didn't even mind getting my picture taken with her...

Three words. I want one.

Lunch at Gribble's was late but delicious, and after one more photo stop at Great Falls near Rock Island State Park, we brought the action back to the house.

If you want to see the full slideshow with the best photos from the day click here --


Road Trip: Living the Dream - 02/18/2012