Several years (ok, nearly a decade) ago, one of my former co-workers wrote a book that gave away the secret back way to Dollywood.  That "back way" saved us hours of sitting in traffic when the kids were young, but now, suffice it to say that it’s been widened to four or six lanes, is dotted with mega shopping centers, and is now no good whatsoever as a shortcut to anywhere.

We spent the weekend camping in Pigeon Forge, but didn’t have to navigate the bumper-to-bumper mess — not on Friday morning, when HWTFM and I towed the camper up to look for a spot (Reservations? Who plans that far in advance??), nor on Friday evening when we returned to pick up the kids after school.  We were foolish enough to venture out onto the Parkway once on Saturday, but opted for the bypass around Gatlinburg, negotiating only minor traffic headaches into the park.

Clingman’s Dome proved to be the ideal picnic spot for Saturday afternoon; it was raining in some places and sunny in others, but perched atop the state line we were above the weather — and the heat.

On Sunday, we stopped by Toobin ‘n Groovin to rent rafting tubes for the day, and spent the day on the river.  Dog didn’t get a tube, but is quite the competent swimmer and proved more than able to keep up.  At one point, he swam across a deep stretch pulling three tubes — HTWFM and the two youngest daughters.

For about $35, it was a full day’s fun.  By evening, we all slept exceptionally well.  It was a tough call to not drive back into Knoxville for Boomsday, but we ended up settling for watching it on TV.

So, the secret:  it’s possible to get from Chapman Highway into the heart of Pigeon Forge without ever once venturing into the traffic snarls of Sevierville or Pigeon Forge.  Yup, that sweet little back road took us right to the doorstep of our campground!  Another branch of back roads leads to Wears Valley — beyond the congestion which peaks from Kroger back to the Parkway — whereupon there’s yet another back entrance into the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

Since I carefully recorded all the road names and landmarks, I could post the directions or even a map, but I still remember what happened to my shortcut of old once Randall’s book came out.  So I won’t post it here or anywhere else. However, if anyone’s interested in making the trek with us on another fine Fall weekend, I’ll be glad to share with a select few, provided that you’re sworn to secrecy and will never, ever publish the directions or map.

We navigated Pigeon Forge and the Smokies over Labor Day weekend without the traffic.  How much sweeter can it get?

Nineteen years ago today, I gave birth to a beautiful 7 lb. 1 oz. baby girl.  I knew virtually nothing about babies, as I was just four when my youngest sister was born and hadn’t been charged with much responsibility for her care.

It seems like it was just a few months ago.  Somehow, we muddled our way through it, learning along the way. 

Today, she came home with the news that she’s engaged to be married.  The date isn’t set yet, but it will be sometime after both obtain Bachelor’s degrees — probably a little under three years from now.

Truthfully, if I could have chosen a son, Mathman would have been my pick; he fits right in with this family, and most especially, with Alpha.  They spent the summer apart, with Alpha taking a class, working at Y-12 during the week, and at Pet Supplies Plus on the weekends.  Mathman was at Texas A&M on a research fellowship. 

They went through a few cell phone minutes over those 2 months, but seem just as content together as ever.  After dating for two years, they’re quite comfortable together.

So, I guess I’ve got a couple of years to procrastinate on making the wedding dress.   Alpha’s the child who always wanted her dresses custom-made, so I know there’s no getting out of that one.  She’ll design it, pick out the fabrics, and turn it over to me.

Nineteen years ago, I was trying to figure out how to change a diaper, put clothes on a wiggly little doll, and trying to figure out how to be a good mother.  On the day we brought her home, HWTFM held her upright on his chest as he lay in bed, teaching her the alphabet.

I remember laughing at him then, but not now.  Somehow over the years, we got something right.

Time to weep a little now.

Firehouse Subs.

We stopped in for lunch today, and had a lively chat with the owner (well, the owner of this franchise) about the several dozen kinds of hot sauce lining the counter.  My kids, ever adventurous, asked which one is the hottest.

Gamma and Delta each proved their culinary bravery by tasting some on a toothpick; I settled for waiting for my sandwich — the Hero Sub — and put a dab in the middle.  It was a bigger dab than I intended, so more than three hours later, I can still feel the burn in my throat.

That said, it was the best sub sandwich I’ve had in ages.  The staff was friendly and efficient, and there’s no doubt we’ll be back there often!

Alpha needs a new computer this year (the laptop she’s been using is now five years old, not meeting the specs of UT’s College of Engineering), so I’ve been surfing around Dell’s website thinking I should order one this weekend.

Unfortunately, there are a very limited number of machines available that can be purchased with XP.  There are simply too many Vista nightmares out there now… beginning with a serious lack of drivers for existing hardware (printers, card readers, etc.).

The temptation to order one with a Linux OS is palpable, but I do have to meet the COE’s requirements.

On a brighter note, a letter arrived a couple of weeks ago notifying her that her stellar academic performance last year has earned her another scholarship — more than enough to offset whatever computer she needs.

Take a moment this morning to put in a prayer for Katie, Jon, and Charlotte.

Edit:  All’s well!  After about six days of genuine labor and a lot more medical intervention than they’d hoped for, Miss Charlotte has arrived.  And she’s just beautiful!  Katie is an amazing woman who really stands out as a role model as a mother.  I understand and admire her desire for a natural birthing experience, but sometimes, it’s good to have the option of a hospital when absolutely necessary.  In this case, it appears that it was.

I’m finished.

After a full day at the farm and a long, relaxing bike ride around the lake, I settled in for some serious reading time last night with the book.

"Serious reading time" has been a challenge, sandwiched between the farm chores and three other people in my family (Gamma, Delta, and HWTFM) who are also reading the same copy. But I snagged a few hours last night, and a few more today. Now, I know how it ends.

I refuse to be a spoiler, but absolutely marvel in the ability of JK Rowling to spin a tale — a series of tales — that thoroughly enchant so many, from early elementary school students to retirees. Before the Harry Potter series, many children had lost the enjoyment of chapter books. Thanks to Rowling’s magic, so many have rediscovered the sheer joy of losing themselves in the printed works, and have recognized why movies, while entertaining, are no substitute.

Riding around the lake (12 miles or so), I was really grateful that I gave up smoking some 5+ months ago. Although it wasn’t particularly hilly, we traversed pavement, gravel, dirt, and even sand. Riding a bike in deep, soft sand is a LOT of work, not to mention slippery.

After taking a day off from the farm today, I feel ready to have some fun!

Gamma feeding a susie and three ducklings early this morning.

Because it’s Sunday, the campground is emptying somewhat; many folks live nearby and camp only for the weekend. As such, this evening should be quieter — the noisy neighbors with three yapping snack-size dogs (and a two year old granddaughter, whose mother’s voice carried for acres) are already gone.

Delta is trying her hand her hand at fishing. She’s squeamish about baiting the hook (using mayflies, which are plentiful), but it’s part of the deal. No batey, no fishey.
* * * * *

Life in the trees… you know, we’re missing out on something in the ordinary, work-a-day world.

The daily grind provides the resources to buy most of what we need, and even what we perceive as happiness some of the time, but then there are days like this one: no sound but the wind, no task but the firm ripe globes of goodness hanging from the trees.

Missing lunch is no big deal; I had cherries for lunch (on the top floor).  There is no elevator, as the bed of a pickup, a ladder, or the very limbs of the trees themselves provide ample altitude.

It is in many ways a simpler life, and in other ways more harsh: much of a year’s income for the farm depends on these two weeks — whether the weather is kind, absent rain and wind that can destroy a crop, or if the temperature remains mild long enough to complete the harvest.  Too much heat, and the fruit over-ripens before it can be harvested.

This year, all has gone well so far.  Whether I can bring any of these beauties home will depend on continued cool weather.

The blueberries are just coming ripe, and there should be plenty to share when I return.

I know I’ve felt like this once or twice…

There should have been at least a bonus point for creativity.