Happy Earth Rotational New Year!!!!

The Northern Hemisphere is now heading back toward longer days and not a moment too soon for me. I just have to survive the Congressional screwing around that will come in March.
I’m an early riser. I’m up at 4:45 AM and on my way to work by 5:20 AM. I’ll get to the office around 6:30 AM. This time of year on the leading edge of the Central Time Zone that is night driving. The predominately cloudy conditions this time of year only makeit a darker time of day. But, when the Sun starts to rise during my trip to work, the drive is a splendid part of my day. The colors of the sky mixed with mist or fog over the fields. The long shadows and rich colors of the flora – even the grays of leafless trees are vivid – are like the robust smells of Mom’s kitchen - intoxicating. But now the sky is black when I pull into the well lit parking lot at the office. Soon the morning sky will greet me and join me on that long trip and when it does, even the bitter cold of Winter will not chase that inner happiness from my smile.

Falls Mill

Started this weekend out by going to a little craft fair down at the local park that wasn’t much to see. At least not for a guy. Emily didn’t find too much to her liking either. We left there and did a little grocery shopping at the local Wal-Mart and then tripped over to Tullahoma to a Kroger’s. That was 30 miles away. Long story but the jest of it is they ordered her some Walden Farms 0 calorie 0 sugar products. They hadn’t come in, so it ended up being a lunch at Red Lobster.

After lunch we took a little trip over to Falls Mills. Its a private non-profit venture that is trying to save a little piece of American industrial and agricultural history on the banks of Factory Creek near Belvidere, Tennessee.

“This attraction holds great appeal for those interested in the antique machinery and process used in both the printing of early documents and the grinding of agricultural products. Built in 1873 as a cotton woolen factory, the mill was later converted – first for use as a cotton gin and then as a woodworking shop. Today, a 32 foot steel water wheel (over 100 years old) powers millstones the grind cornmeal, flour and grits (which can be purchased on site). The building containing the mill also houses a two story museum where you can see a printing press, hand looms, power looms, spinning wheels, and wool-carding machinery. Adjacent to the mill is a bed and breakfast log cabin for overnight guests.”*

It is a quite picturesque place. The really cool thing about it is it is an excellent example of privatized hydro power. In this case it turns a huge water wheel and powers grinding wheels. But the same concept could be used for electrical power if you happen to have this kind of water resource around. Not a lot of us will ever have it, but still it’s a cool idea for pollution free energy.

The area around the mill is very pleasant and it’s worth a visit. The owners are nice and when you see their home -pictured here - you kind of turn green with envy.

The mill itself is a fun place to explore and the owners let you have the run of the place for $4 a head and after watching a 5 minute video history presentation. Kind of serene too.

You’ll find lots of fun stuff here and there.

Oh, yea! Their overnight cabin is cute.

* This description came from Charles and Daniel Frew's (father and son) book 52 Weekends in the Tennessee Valley. ISBN 0-9777415-0-8

My return to Tennessee after 37 years.

I’ve pretty much completed my move to Tennessee. I’m not all that far from Huntsville, but I’ll be sporting Tennessee tags on my truck soon and my mug is already decorating a Tennessee State driver’s license (which in getting also made me a registered voter).

Sold my house in an unbelievable two days. At least that was as long as it was publicized. Emily treated me to a week in Gatlinburg during my birthday week. The week before I interviewed three Realtors. Two where recommended by my out of state bank, USAA. They have a program for helping sellers. However, as I inquired, I realized that they just get a commission for every bank customer that takes up one of their recommended Realtors and they really haven’t done any checking on the Realtor’s capabilities. Of course I could have gotten cash at closing for using one of them, but the amount of money wasn’t really an incentive after I got past the initial marketing effort.

I also called on Dave Ramsey. For you who don’t know about him, he is a “Christian” financial adviser with a radio show. Yea I know what you are thinking. Chet!!!! Have you found religion!!!! No, I haven’t. But, Ramsey gives out excellent financial advice for those who will not face the reality of debt. I use to go out for lunch buying a sack meal and finding a tree shaded area off the road there on Redstone. His station was the only one what would come in static free. He was followed by Rush Limbaugh, so I made sure my lunch was finished by the end of Ramsey’s show. His religiosity isn’t a big part of his show although he does try to insure his ticket to heaven is good with a few scripture readings and a smattering of JC is Lord. But 90% of the show is excellent hard hitting financial advice. Call him the Dr. Phil of Finance. I’m not a fan of Dr. Phil. I see a big difference in rough, honest, straightforward financial advice and deeply emotional beatings.

One of the side issues Ramsey makes money from is advertising from companies that he claims he has researched and interviewed and tested. So, I left an email on his site saying I was looking for a Realtor in my area. Both his and USAA’s recommended realtor’s called within 24 hours. They all had great presentations and handled my questions pretty well. But one had one thing the others didn’t. Yea, she was cute and full of energy and she had a great personality and most definitely knew the company line since she leads it here. But in addition to all the others offered, she also offered free use of a truck to move with. Just fill up the tank and bring it back when you’re done. Not only that, but once I use her services, the use of the truck is a life long offer. Yep, if in a few months I want to haul a big group of illegal aliens to Chicago, I can call her up and reserve the truck. Now how is that for an incentive? Well, maybe for some of you, hauling your own stuff is the last thing you want to do in such a transition, but I’ve done it all my life so this was a real cost savings.

Who is this master of the Realtor business? Amanda Howard, Ring the Team, of Weichert Realtors.

So, having chosen Howard to handle the sale of my house, Emily and I took off for Gatlinburg. Howard’s team came out to the house and took pictures for a visual-tour. If you want to see how well they did, click here. Yea I cleaned the place up. They got the sale posted to the web on Wednesday and on the drive back from Gatlinburg that Friday I got a call that I had four offers and one was in excess of my asking price. Wow, I never thought it would go that fast. When I bought it four years earlier it has been on the market for months. Needless to say I was pleased - more money than I asked and no repairs or home improvements necessary. Two weeks latter I moved out and closed.

Now, living in Fayetteville, TN isn’t like living in the big city. It is a lot like my Dad’s home town, Noblesville, IN, use to be. (I say “use to be” because Noblesville has been consumed by the urban sprawl of Indianapolis.) There is a town square filled by the county courthouse. Fayetteville is the county seat of Lincoln County which is not named after Abraham Lincoln. Fayetteville is named after the city of Fayetteville, NC – a place I use to live as well. Seems some North Carolinians from Fayetteville came west and settled in Tennessee. But you can read all that if you are interested on Wikipedia.

It took a week for me to settle in here and get myself back on the Internet in the privacy of my own place, although, it isn’t my place, its Emily’s. The 29 mile commute is a pain but coming home to a significant other is worth it. I have changed my morning habits to miss the bulk of the traffic going to Huntsville. Seems a lot of Tennesseans commute to either Huntsville or Redstone Arsenal to work. No longer do I while away the morning hours doing whatever my over active mind desires then rush to work in 10 minutes. I miss that. But life in a small town is suiting me at this stage of my life. I’m still looking for a few acres to build my final house on and this area has just the kind of picturesque landscape I’m interested in. Click these links for a few snap shots I’ve taken driving around the county.

Stable on a Foggy Morning

Barn-in-the-Mist

Deer-in-Meadow

Home-on-Lynchburg-Hwy

Stone-House-in-the-Meadow

I am scouting out best places and times to photograph this area. Even got me a new GPS to help me get back to some of these really back woods locations. I’m looking forward to recording Lincoln County for these times. Landscape photography isn’t my biggest photographic interest but I’ll strive to do the county justice.

Expect more to come now that my transition back to a Tennessean is nearly complete.

Have you ever seen a deer pee in the wild?

It is my habit to get up at 0500 and spend the first 2 1/2 hours of the day on myself. I’m awaken by my local morning NPR station broadcasting Morning Addition which it runs through twice by the time I get to work. I’ll fix breakfast or go out to breakfast, I’ll read (usually the news paper) and ponder issues that the news inspires. I like this schedule, but I often don’t get time to write or blog what’s come to mind during these morning activities.

Case in point is this blog. I had a great time last weekend running around middle Tennessee and wanted to write down the unique things and some of the not so unique things (depending on where you live), but time was just not making itself available. Maybe I should start going to work at nine instead? LOL

I drove up to Fayetteville (about 45 minute drive north of Huntsville) where Emily was waiting to take me to breakfast. She had promised a good one at “The Chuckwagon” or something to that effect. I seem to recall the name had something to do with cowboys or horses. After good morning hugs and kisses, we headed over to this breakfast haven Emily was so excited for me to try. I’ve turned her on to the omelets at Victoria’s and she wants to repay the favor I guess. Now some of you will look at the names of those two eating establishments and try to do some kind of mathematical computation to stereotype the kind of people Emily and I are. Don’t waste your time. Yes, Emily is a Tennessean and was raised country, but she has a unique sophistication about her that I dearly enjoy. While Victoria’s may evoke images of ladies underwear for some of you, I can assure you it’s not the kind of place little boys go to to ogle scantily clothed women. Think further back in time and you’ll understand what a friend of mine told me, “You wouldn’t like it Chet because it’s a gray hair ladies place. They serve things like quiche.” And they do but that’s another story to tell another day.

Emily directed me to the “Chuckwagon” (I’m really terrible at names) and as I first laid eyes on the place, I had two feeling at once -- disbelief at what I was seeing and relief it was closed. Its a 60 foot long gray-black-white variegated pattern house trailer sitting on an asphalt parking lot with not a single cowboy or horse image about it. There was nothing visually appealing about the place at all. If it’s a good place to eat and I trust Emily that it is, they sure aren’t inviting anyone to discover it. (someday I need insert a picture of the place here)

Not discouraged but not sure if my "big" city taste would be offended, Emily suggested we head over to the town square where there are a could of local favorites that she knew would be open. Now if you read this blog religiously, and I know my loyal fans do, you know I’ve talked a bit about Fayetteville’s town square before. Actually I think I just mentioned it had one. LOL As we parked, I saw the two eateries side by side with a handful of men wearing baseball caps and denim bib-overall standing around talking. They all were weather worn and silver haired and fit the old 20’s facade of the building they where standing in front of. A few eyed us as we crossed the street, but the most were too involved in their discussions of pork prices, bushel yields and drought to notice us. Emily picked out Honey’s Restaurant and Billiards saying it was more refined than Bill’s Café and Billiards next door. (Actually she was not so generous in her description.) Inside, the grill and counter were on the right and booths lined the left. Above the booths was a very long shelf housing a fine collection of vintage Jack Daniel’s bottles (emptied) and every booth had a vintage photo of people who once worked in the place since it opened in the 1920s. The very back was were the pool tables use to be but in these modern times I guess billiards is not such a draw for an eating establishment that specializes in food cooked on a film of grease over a hot flat steel surface. That area was now the overflow area “for when things get crowded.”

We sat at the bar and I ordered coffee and a western omelet. My coffee came as a tea bag. Kind of modern and a nice contrast to the old white thick porcelain mug and saucer I’m accustomed to in these vintage eateries. I just wished the sugar packets had not replaced the old clear jars of sugar with the stainless steal top that had the little flapped covered hole on top for pouring. The waitress looked to be 14 and served food like she wanted to be any place but behind that counter. She was pleasant, but it was clear this was not her career of choice. The food was good! I enjoyed sitting at a counter. The warmth of the place was homey and while I may be a bit harsh in my description its not out of disrespect. It is a proud honest place and doesn’t pretend to be something is isn’t.

Back in the truck we drove all over the country side stopping to take pictures of fine old homes with unusual character and landscapes that characterize Tennessee for me. Like Honey’s Restaurant and Billiards it’s a proud honest place with a character all its own. Not a lot of places you can go outside the south where driver wave to you as you pass and people on their porches smile and say hello. Only in this roughed landscape can you see a turkey hen and her chicks saunter across the narrow pavement of an old cow path turned road. And it is only here that I ever saw a wild deer pee. As silly as that sounds, I ask you to think about how many times you’ve been out in the country and saw a deer take the time to pee. BTW they squat their hind legs to do it.