Day one

As I suspected, not a lot of excitement today.  I got away from town later than I would have liked, but earlier than I anticipated.  Some observations from my day in no particular order.

Going 41A to Monteagle Mountain adds about an hour to the trip.  By the time I arrived at Lookout Mountain, in my head I was hearing the "melodious" voice of Jean Eisenhower who had a colorful way of expressing the fact that she had been sitting too long.  I was ready to get out of the car.

Tennessee is a beautiful state, and there is a lot of country on the back roads.  When driving the less traveled road, one wonders about the cry of overpopulation.

Getting over Monteagle Mountain the back way is much, much curvier than the interstate.  Whew, almost enough to make even the driver carsick.

I am glad that I do not live in Rover or Estill Springs, but I can see why people might love their small towns.

Decherd has cheap gas.

Tullahoma has a WalMart with a bathroom that was a glorious sight.

Rose's is not a grocery store with fresh apples.  I am not sure what it would be called.  Sort of a combination of Aldi's, Big Lots and a Vanity Fair outlet store.  Also, Rose's does not have a bathroom.

Lynchburg actually has a sign on the highway that says, "Entering the Metropolis of Lynchburg, TN."  Talk about hyperbole!!!!

I saw a truck speeding, and I do mean speeding down I24 (I caved and got on the interstate at Monteagle since I had already been driving 3 hours to get 1 1/2 hours down the road) that had "Even a brick wants to be part of something."  I thought that a very fitting metaphor for life.  I think we all want to be part of something.  Actually, we all are or will be part of something.  I guess we need to be wise about what we choose.  I assume the driver of the truck was either a maker or layer of bricks.

I really can eat a meal by myself in a restaurant.  Perhaps, there were people who noticed me there alone and wondered about my story.  They might have been surprised at the wonderful life I have at home. Most likely, no one even took note of my presence.

Some things that are humorous are also quite sad, like the loud middle-aged, overweight, bespectacled, balding man on a date at Cracker Barrel with a beautiful younger woman.  It seemed as though he was trying desperately to impress her with his refined gourmand palate that was insulted by the undercooked grits, and his periodic poorly executed Italian accent.

That blogger does not seem to work as I wish on the iPad, so I have no idea how this is going to turn out.

For today, I wish you safe travels wherever you may go, a family who loves you, and I wish you

Blessings