Tag Archives: Smoky Mountains

Gotta Be Something in the Water

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southern kindness

If there’s one thing I’ve noticed during my travels to the South, besides the abundance of fried food, is how dang friendly Southerners are. Could it be something in their water that makes  them happy? Is that why they’re always smiling? Seriously, I want to know their secret.

secret

Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying friendlies (as I call them) don’t live anywhere else. But ya gotta admit the largest concentration of friendlies seem to be in regions with twangs or drawls. Take Tennessee, for instance. Continue reading →

Gotta Be Something in the Water

Posted on by

southern kindness

If there’s one thing I’ve noticed during my travels to the south, besides the abundance of fried food, is how dang friendly southerners are. Could it be something in their water that makes  them happy? Is that why they’re always smiling? Seriously, I want to know their secret.secret

Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying friendlies (as I call them) don’t live anywhere else. But ya gotta admit the largest concentration of friendlies seem to be in regions with twangs or drawls. Take Tennessee, for instance. Continue reading →

Chipping Away At My Bucket List

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bucket list

My bucket list seems to get longer the older I get. Isn’t that always the way? So much to do, so little time….

Anyway, visiting more of the good old USA is on that list. So a couple weeks ago I headed to Tennessee for a girlfriend getaway in Memphis, Nashville and the Smoky Mountains. I have no horror stories to share about what happened on the plane (for once) since Sharon and I had a row to ourselves. Off to a splendid start, wouldn’t you say?

5:45 a.m. flight

All prepared for the 5:45 a.m. flight. What were we thinking?

If you’ve never visited Tennessee, why not? It’s quite unique. Memphis at the beginning of June was practically deserted. The streets and cafes were almost empty at times. No crowds in the honky tonk joints along Beale Street so we had our pick of the musicians in every bar and cafe. Even the marching ducks at the Peabody Hotel had relatively little fanfare. Hooray for us. Continue reading →