6:41 PM |
As I skulked around trying to figure out where the pig t-shirts were, I stumbled on this shelf. More caffeinated citrus soft drinks! These are called Sun Drop. A battle of the titans this will be.Anyhow, I was really taken by the Little Debbies, because we have Tasti-Cakes (they almost went out of business after the fire, and the best are Butterscotch Kimpets), and when I grew up we begged my mother for Hostess Sno-balls because they were advertised on the Peanuts specials. I took a picture. I like the Snack Center idea. By this time, the already cranky checkout lady was looking at me with extreme disdain. Note to self: hang out only with dentally challenged men.
Worried about explaining myself and my odd behavior, I selected a Moon Pie from another display, and a box of NEW! Banana Pudding Rolls. I tried the moon pie in the car. I wanted to like it. It sucked. With three stale plain cookies and stiff marshmallows in between, it was no substitute for my northern moon pies which have soft chocolate cake and that icky white icing stuff in between. I do like those even though the white stuff can be sort of sandy.On to investigate Holy Smokes, Heaven Scent barbecue. Before I got there I saw a sign that said Keys Made. Perfect. Oh, Saturday and Sunday. When I got to Holy Smokes, I looked in the window and pulled on the door. Locked. I checked the hours of operation. I was well within them. Around here, stuff is sometimes closed for a little while when the proprietor gets a cup of coffee or a haircut. I walked around the back of the building. Can't get in. It's like my West End Baptist Church. I finally went to the front one more time. Pull. Oh, I'd been pushing. Holy Smokes was a bit cavernous, like it had had 564 people for lunch, but I was late (actually I was, it was 2:05).
I walked up to the counter and asked for a pork sandwich and a sweet tea. I asked the guy for his picture (it's just the upper class people that don't want to have it done, and this was one of those guys), and how he got into this business. He's from here (his father was in seminary which is a large part of the university) but worked in Minneapolis for 25 years in sales and marketing. His daughter is at St. Andrews and he is divorced and all. I liked his father in-law who was the kind of guy you'd like barbequing your meat. Later I met his mother. Are you Episcopalian (well I went to Episcopalian high school, but I think I'm now a Baptist)? Uh, yes. My husband went to seminary here. Apparently this is a very good thing. By now I am bummed. There are Holy Smokes t-shirts. A Holy Smokes website. A Holy Smokes owner from Minneapolis that speaks higher education. The pork sandwich was okay, and the soft roll ginormous. Sweet tea a little unsweet, but that seems like it's a Tennessee thing. The sign was cute, though. Check the propane piggies. There was also encouraged graffiti and this sign on the wall.
I thought I'd go check out the Dutch Maid Bakery, you know, the oldest one in Tennessee that will be giving tours at the Fog Festival. I wasn't quite sure where is was so a I asked at the post office. The Monteagle post office is very much like ours. The Postmistress was discussing someone's health with the next customer. The lady was sending a money order to a credit card company overnight. Dutch Maid is in Tracy City. Always eager to explore in the land of auto parts and antique trailers, I set out for old two-light. On the way, I passed Fiery Gizzard Road, a sign for Big Joes with an arrow on it (I couldn't see any big Joes), and a lot of empty sort of old west ghost town looking buildings. Also, there was a stage labeled "Stage." It was that. In an empty parking lot. And a canoe cut-out sign promising gentle thrills. This hung over a storage area of very large propane tanks. I bet those thrills are a little more than gentle.
Here is the bakery:
I walked in and nosed around a bit before a young girl came out. I ordered a seven-layer bar because I had to buy something. I asked her what they sell most of. The salt rise bread, I guess. I don't need bread, having eaten a Holy Smokes sandwich minutes before, so I guess I'll never understand what it is and why it's so good. She had already shrugged and disappeared behind a curtain. The seven-layer bar was stale. I ate it anyway.
Coming back to Monteagle, I came across Modern Dave's Cafe. I have been looking at Modern Dave's for the last few days. It is incongruous here. The linen delivery truck was pulling out and I pulled in. A man with blue eyglasses stood there. Hey, are you Modern Dave? Indeed he was. I saw your sign and I want to know what Modern Dave's is all about. He invited me in. Modern Dave's has cool booths, and the only actual smoker I have seen in these parts. Modern Dave told me he is making pastrami. You have a lot of that in Philadelphia, don't you? Uh, no, that's New York, but I kept my mouth shut. Well, you have cheese steaks. Yes we do. Modern Dave brines his pastrami for 3 days before he smokes it. If I'm still here tomorrow, I'll have to eat some.
Modern Dave just had to show me his new bar. It's the best part of the place, he said. The bar itself is made from one piece of local pine. That is cool. He has some weird horizontal drapes at the back. Those are garage doors. We're going to open them in spring. There is a pool table in the loft.
After Modern Dave went to do something, presumably cook dinner, the guy at the bar told me that this used to be a tractor trailer garage. Modern Dave told me he had a restaurant in Chattanooga and this was cheaper. They all decided that I should go to Chattanooga next. I can see Ruby Falls and Lookout Mountain, and drive up to the TVA project in which the Statue of Liberty could fit. They show you that there. I declined a drink and went upon my merry way, safe in the thought that Modern Dave is, well, modern?
I walked up to the counter and asked for a pork sandwich and a sweet tea. I asked the guy for his picture (it's just the upper class people that don't want to have it done, and this was one of those guys), and how he got into this business. He's from here (his father was in seminary which is a large part of the university) but worked in Minneapolis for 25 years in sales and marketing. His daughter is at St. Andrews and he is divorced and all. I liked his father in-law who was the kind of guy you'd like barbequing your meat. Later I met his mother. Are you Episcopalian (well I went to Episcopalian high school, but I think I'm now a Baptist)? Uh, yes. My husband went to seminary here. Apparently this is a very good thing. By now I am bummed. There are Holy Smokes t-shirts. A Holy Smokes website. A Holy Smokes owner from Minneapolis that speaks higher education. The pork sandwich was okay, and the soft roll ginormous. Sweet tea a little unsweet, but that seems like it's a Tennessee thing. The sign was cute, though. Check the propane piggies. There was also encouraged graffiti and this sign on the wall.I thought I'd go check out the Dutch Maid Bakery, you know, the oldest one in Tennessee that will be giving tours at the Fog Festival. I wasn't quite sure where is was so a I asked at the post office. The Monteagle post office is very much like ours. The Postmistress was discussing someone's health with the next customer. The lady was sending a money order to a credit card company overnight. Dutch Maid is in Tracy City. Always eager to explore in the land of auto parts and antique trailers, I set out for old two-light. On the way, I passed Fiery Gizzard Road, a sign for Big Joes with an arrow on it (I couldn't see any big Joes), and a lot of empty sort of old west ghost town looking buildings. Also, there was a stage labeled "Stage." It was that. In an empty parking lot. And a canoe cut-out sign promising gentle thrills. This hung over a storage area of very large propane tanks. I bet those thrills are a little more than gentle.
Here is the bakery:
I walked in and nosed around a bit before a young girl came out. I ordered a seven-layer bar because I had to buy something. I asked her what they sell most of. The salt rise bread, I guess. I don't need bread, having eaten a Holy Smokes sandwich minutes before, so I guess I'll never understand what it is and why it's so good. She had already shrugged and disappeared behind a curtain. The seven-layer bar was stale. I ate it anyway.
Coming back to Monteagle, I came across Modern Dave's Cafe. I have been looking at Modern Dave's for the last few days. It is incongruous here. The linen delivery truck was pulling out and I pulled in. A man with blue eyglasses stood there. Hey, are you Modern Dave? Indeed he was. I saw your sign and I want to know what Modern Dave's is all about. He invited me in. Modern Dave's has cool booths, and the only actual smoker I have seen in these parts. Modern Dave told me he is making pastrami. You have a lot of that in Philadelphia, don't you? Uh, no, that's New York, but I kept my mouth shut. Well, you have cheese steaks. Yes we do. Modern Dave brines his pastrami for 3 days before he smokes it. If I'm still here tomorrow, I'll have to eat some.
Modern Dave just had to show me his new bar. It's the best part of the place, he said. The bar itself is made from one piece of local pine. That is cool. He has some weird horizontal drapes at the back. Those are garage doors. We're going to open them in spring. There is a pool table in the loft.
After Modern Dave went to do something, presumably cook dinner, the guy at the bar told me that this used to be a tractor trailer garage. Modern Dave told me he had a restaurant in Chattanooga and this was cheaper. They all decided that I should go to Chattanooga next. I can see Ruby Falls and Lookout Mountain, and drive up to the TVA project in which the Statue of Liberty could fit. They show you that there. I declined a drink and went upon my merry way, safe in the thought that Modern Dave is, well, modern?
Having some time to kill as Harold won't be able to fix Woody right away, I decided to have my prescriptions refilled at the CVS on I-whatever. It was just like my CVS at home, with a line of three or four people waiting to pick up stuff. At home, people say they have a pick up. Here, they say they have come for their medicine. I deleted three pictures from my iPhone, sent two texts, and my order was finished. I want to refill all my prescriptions here. I'd probably get them faster if they mailed them than I do at home.
Back at the Inn, the innkeepers were watching Jeopardy with their son Beau. I'm sure you know what I'm thinking about a son named Beau. He his a big black dog that won't stop putting his face in my armpit. I am allergic and this is the only sweater I have since I ruined ivory backup sweater. Their dinner smells like steak and onions. It is overpowering, and I think it will be in my hair. As you can tell, I'm very sensitive to stuff in my hair. I don't like sleeping in someone else's dinner. They left the TV on. It is the only TV in the place, and I am working in this lovely room, now with the TV. Some bad sitcom is on. I can tell by the laugh track but I'm sure I won't know what it is. I like Saving Grace, and it's a darn shame it had its last season this spring. Detective Annadarko with her little braids with feathers in them and a drooly dog named Gus, and her very own angel Earl, rocks. I want Holly Hunter to play me in a movie. It would be very interesting.
Cool! Spellcheck caught nothing wrong in this post. Doesn't check for grammar tho.
Lost:
- Car keys, again (put spare on yellow cable tie; need to attach it to something bigger, like a wrench)
Definitely found:
- Both videocams (that's okay, I'll probably lose one)