Summer Heat

July 7th, 2016

OMG.  It’s really hot here and even the locals are shocked at the high temps (96 F yesterday and higher temps coming today and tomorrow …. it’s really hot in Maine, too).  We’re staying home with the AC on.

In between the bursts of smothering heat we’re getting mountain-style sudden bursts of un-forecast explosive thunderstorms that practically rock the RV off its blocks.  Thankfully, the pool is just a few hundred feet away, I can crawl to that for a quick cool off.

Zuma doesn’t want to venture out for walks; she is content to dwell in the comfort of the AC and only ventures outside to “do her business”, then she merrily prances to retreat to the coolness and comfort of her comfy bed under the cold air.  With Danes having inherent heart issues, I am a freak about her getting overheated.  So far, so good.  We were going to head back to Maine last week, but that means heat and humidity for July and August and she spends those two months lounging on a king size bed in AC; here, we can walk every day, but this week is unusually HOT and HUMID.

A Day In Our Life ….


July 7, 2016

A Day In Our Life …. (man, we seem to pack a lot in!):

                  

Sigh …. Zu would have been such a wonderful Mother.
I could never be a breeder even though we think Great Danes are the sweetest dogs.  I would never want a puppy she produced to go through what she went through.
Today, We met a gorgeous Great Dane Puppy.
Blessed with a caring, calm owner:
Very talented musician, could have listened to him all day:
Fabulous band, two sixteen year old twins,
eighteen year old brother.
Rocked the house.
Amazing.
Doug found this haven for book lovers:
Battery Park Book Exchange, bring your dog, hang out, read, socialize, love it here.
A Sweet Staffordshire:
 Yummy Sushi:
Fab Coffee Food Truck downtown:
Beautiful dog:
Buskers doing their thing:
Biltmore from the top of the hill here:
Fabulous Great Dane Puppy we met at the dog grooming salon after Zuma had her nails trimmed by the caring staff.
Thank you Soapy Dog!
It’s all good.
We are so thankful.

Dogs are Better Than Humans Because ….

June 23, 2016
 
There’s a reason dogs are labeled Man’s Best Friend.

Dogs are better than human beings because they know
but they do not tell.
~ Emily Dickinson.
There’s a tremendous difference between being alone and lonely.
You could be lonely in a group of people.
I like being alone.
I like eating by myself.
I go home at night and just watch a movie or hang out with my dog.
I have to exert myself and say
Oh God, I’ve got to see my friends
’cause I’m too content being by myself.
~ Drew Barrymore.
“Dogs are not our whole life but they make our lives whole”.
~ Roger Caras (photographer and writer).
I believe that a calm dog is a happy, obedient dog
that won’t get into trouble.
~ Cesar Milan.
Why does watching a dog be a dog fill one with happiness?
~ Jonathan Safrah Foer (Author).
When an eighty five pound mammal licks your tears away,
then tries to sit in your lap, it’s hard to feel sad.
 ~ Kristan Higgins (Author, “In Your Dreams”).
The dog is a reflection of your energy, your behavior.
You have to ask, “What am I doing?”
That’s the right question to ask.
~ Cesar Milan.
Scratch a dog and you’ll find a permanent job.
~ Franklin P. Jones.
Once you have had a wonderful dog,
a life without one is a life diminished.
~ Dean Koontz (author).
Until one has loved an animal,
a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.
Let sleeping dogs lie.
~ Robert Walpole (first Prime Minister of Great Britain)
 
 
I’ve seen a look in dog’s eyes,
a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts.
~ John Steinbeck, author.
I think dogs are the most amazing creatures;
they give unconditional love.
For me, they are the role model for being alive.
~ Gilda Radnor, comedienne.

There are times when even the best manager is like the little boy with the big dog – waiting to see where the dog wants to go so he can take him there.  ~ Lee Iacocca

Dogs never bite me, just humans.
~ Marilyn Monroe.
My little dog …. a heartbeat at my feet.
~ Edith Wharton.
Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend.
Inside of a dog, it’s too dark to read.
~ Groucho Marx.
 A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance,
and to turn around three times before lying down.
~ Robert Benchley

Take only photos, leave only footprints.
Treasure the memories.

Glassblowers, Great Gals and Gladness.

June 21, 2016


Over the past weekend we spent some time in Asheville, checking out places we’ve heard we cannot miss.  Our first stop was Lexington Glassworks, a glassblowing studio not far from downtown.

Ooooh, not a place for Zuma with her four foot tail swath we thought.  Oh noooo!  Oh yes, bring her in, the sweet young lady beckoned!  (Er, how much do we have in savings, Doug?).  We tiptoed inside and we were relieved the gorgeous glass pieces were all elevated above her tail wagging level (step away from the dawg, just don’t talk nicely to her and everything will be okay, LOL)! Asheville people sometimes bring tears to my eyes that so many businesses allow and WELCOME this big ole dawg inside.

Zuma was on her best behavior and enjoyed lots of pets and praise from visitors and staff and we escaped without writing a two thousand dollar check and sweeping up several buckets of shrapnel (potential Christmas gifts, pass the epoxy).

Zuma just plunked herself on the cool cement floor
as if she’d been there every day for years.
We were extremely fortunate to watch two master glassblowers at work forming two bowls from start to completion.  It was fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.
True artists at work, doing what they love.
It was hot outside but their studio is open to the air and they were totally chill about Zuma loafing there.  She acted like she was meant to be a 130 lb (dog) bull in a (glass) china shop.
The two glassblowers were one with the glass.
It was a beautiful thing to watch.
The two men worked as a team to form a glob into a masterpiece, and, while they created, they explained every step to the audience.
The sunlit building is filled with creations of every color shape and form, the windows are also filled with an eye-boggling display of unique glass art pieces.
It was a special way to begin a sunny Sunday.
Feeling a tad peckish, we strolled into the city center
for a bite of lunch.
We turned to the app. bringfido.com ( an app. that suggests dog-friendly hotels, restaurants and events) and found a great sushi place, along with a European coffee and pastry shop next door.
We met a lot of people, with and without dogs.  But there were two great gals who were especially fun and had a super positive aura about them, Kim and Ester; we visited with them and their adorable dog for a while on the sunny sidewalk.
I was having a bit of a personal struggle that day, grappling with the decision: should Zuma and I head “home” to Maine now or later?  I love it here, I love it there.  They helped me to decide.  Whether they realized it or not.
Sometimes, you meet good people and “you just KNOW”.  I think we’ll keep in touch via the blog.  So, if you Great Gals are reading, THANK YOU!
After a nibble of lunch, we stopped at New Belgium Brewery, a brand new brewery that is totally southern-friendly and fun for families, couples, singles, dogs, whomever.
It is an impressive operation.  Doug tells me these silos are filled with beer.  Whoa!  Seriously?  Yup.
Iiiii know, I never drank beer, but once a week a cold beer at a place like this is a lot of fun.
Like I said, it’s a fun place!
There’s a huge grassy area with chairs to lounge in and soak up the hot sun (and a cold beer).  Dogs are welcomed and treated like royalty.  They’re pretty darned nice to the people, too!
We met great people and their canine companions, large and not so large.  Our new friend Sarah (above) and her sweet, confident Great Dane puppy Garbanzo (with feet the size of a camel):
 He and Zuma had a good romp in the grass.
 
And our future new dentist and his wife and their magnificent Newfoundland:
Medium-sized dogs….
And even smaller canines (Indie, who joined in
with Garbanzo and Zuma, when he wan’t receiving out of space telepathic transmissions):
Every dog we met participated in the fun and frolic and Zuma was delighted to have a really nice doggie play day.
This brewery on the banks of The French Broad River has only been open for two months and already it is extremely popular. Employee-owned, laid back and fun, from the outdoor deck you can watch people tubing down the river (avec accompanying duck patrol). The water may appear murky but it rained the day before, stirring up the red clay ….
It was a very busy, dog-sociable day and Zuma is zonked!
We’re retiring with gladness for being a part of Asheville.
Goodnight, ya’ll!

Buskers and Biscuits and Gravy.

May 19, 2016.

Buskers and Biscuits and Gravy.
                                                   

Wikipedia’s definition:  “Street performance or busking  is the act of performing in public places for gratuities, though “busking” is particularly associated with singing or playing music ….”.
I didn’t know that many famous musicians started out as Buskers.  Rod Stewart, Bono, Robin Williams, Tracy Chapman, BB King, Pierce Brosnan, Jewel.
Here in Asheville, a city known for it’s music scene, it isn’t uncommon to to see and hear buskers at several street corners.
Zuma is fascinated with them and wants to befriend everybody.
This is her first experience hearing a sax up close.  She voluntarily schmoozed in closer to hang out with the friendly performer, then she looked at us, ears dropping with the realization she was in over her head, as if to say, “Whaaat was I thinking?”  We let her figure it out.  She was socially graceful.  Even though she freaked herself out a bit.

We lovvvve Mountain Music.

If you have a few minutes, here’s a youtube clip about Asheville Buskers.  Guaranteed to make you smile.  Ain’t Nuthin’ Much is the name of the band, we always stop and watch them if they are playing when we walk around the city.  These boys always draw a huge crowd.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7pGc2h9TCM

As does Abby, The Spoon Lady:

The variety of the Busker’s instruments is amazing:  banjos, harmonicas, trumpets, guitars, fiddles, spoons, saxophones, cellos, bongo drums, a full set of drums, clarinets, everybody gets a turn. Their subtle hats/guitar cases welcome gratuities, but there is no pressure to pay for their humble entertainment.  Rule number One: they cannot request tips.

These artists are so talented, many make a living this way.  I see some of them around the city in other jobs too.

There’s even a “statue man” who is painted a bronze color and poses as a fly fisherman in frozen positions until he receives a tip in his hat, then he moves slowly into another pose.
Nearby benches often provide seating and allow the audience to “set a spell” but mostly crowds gather and are happy to stand around to soak up the mountain music, folk songs or contemporary tunes, depending on the performers and the street corner.  Cell ‘phones go into overdrive as the performers are filmed by the admiring crowds.  Dollar bills of varying denominations float gratefully into hats, guitar cases.  The Buskers are truly appreciative and polite; they always thank the people who offer gratuities.  They all seem well-educated.  They are certainly well-mannered.  They are not allowed to ask for tips, they cannot post any visible advertising to sell their CDs but people inquire and purchase a sample of their work because it is so good.
We love it.  The tourists and locals love it.
Everybody is smiling, basking in the warmth of a sunny Sunday afternoon and soaking up the music.
Busking is an integral thread in the fabric of the city.  These are bronze statues of Buskers in front of The Thomas Wolfe Auditorium downtown, celebrating the street music scene here:
Yes, this guy does have pants on.  I checked.
You’re welcome.
He’s not the average busker although he is a good drummer.
I love it that I caught Doug and Zuma’s reflection in the window.
It was a lucky fluke!
This couple really rock it out.
I met this lovely guy and chatted with him a little.

He is from Florida, passing through.  He told me he’s been busking for a year, traveling around the country with gratuities he receives and he loves it.  I asked him to write a poem about Zuma for me. He looked at us and thought a moment and then tapped this out on his old manual turquoise typewriter:

He is so sweet and sincere.  I love it that he is making his way with language. We see Phil around the city.  He is often surrounded by people requesting his work. He asked if he could read the poem he wrote to me and he brought tears to my eyes.  I’m so glad I had my sunglasses on so I didn’t come across as a total blubbering middle-aged sentimental idiot. Not that he would have minded.  He is a kind person.

Later, Doug and went back to thank him and gave him a large tip. This humble, clean cut poet made our day.  I will frame his work.

Then we wandered to a nearby restaurant for a cold drink and were sitting with a group of people talking about Buskers and how great it is that Asheville is a hub for street musicians and performers.  I showed the poem to one of the women who was sitting with us.

And she cried.
Most of the entertainers are local, others wander in off the nearby Appalachian mountain trails in between hikes, their dogs loyally following them. Some appear to be transients.  If you have talent, it can be an easy way to collect some quick cash.
Street performers are all very peaceful folk. In fact, the Buskers in the city have formed a group called Asheville Buskers Collective (ABC).  I found them on Facebook and borrowed this from their FB page:
UPDATE: As of now, there have bee NO CHANGES TO ANY LAWS regarding busking in Asheville. You do not need a permit. CD sales is still illegal, but change may be on the way. It’s legal to have a sign with your band name, but not directly asking for money.
The City of Asheville is discussing future changes in the center-city landscape, and some of these changes may concern buskers or effect them. Currently there has been discussion of making amplifiers illegal, which is something the ABC wishes to KEEP LEGAL. Having said this, please be mindful and play to your own space – whether you have amplification or not. It’s just the nice thing to do.
The two hour rule, although endorsed by the Asheville Buskers Collective, is not an ABC rule. The “rule” has been around for a very long time, long before the ABC formed. There has been discussion of making the rule law, as some buskers have started not following it. The less restrictive our scene is, the better, so please share. This keeps things fresh for our business owners, residents, and gives all our buskers a chance to play.
Please visit AVLBUSKERS.ORG for more info, thanks

This is Dickie, a talented, frequent street performer here and an active member of ABC:
This woman has a beautiful voice; in the dappled shade at one of the markets, she and the band she plays with performed songs in genuine French as well as in English.  Her soft, feeling voice is brilliant, soft, subtle.  It is like like listening to warm cream melting in a hot cup of coffee.  The accompanying musicians are humble and play softly.  It was a beautiful experience.
Others, like this man below, has an active performing schedule with his band and they have a number of CDs on the market.  This Mountain Music band ‘Ain’t Nuthin’ Much’ is phenomenal and we sat and watched them for a long time.  The banjo player has flying fingers and mesmerized  the crowd with his high falutin’ finger pickin’ and hilarious little ditties in between verses.
A true entertainer.

Here’s a youtube clip of one of the fun songs (Biscuits and Gravy) ‘Ain’t Nuthin’ Much’ played last weekend:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y5BGoGkS5SY

In general, we’ve noted, the dogs accompanying the Buskers are well-behaved, super socialized and usually better fed and groomed than their masters. They lay peacefully dozing beside their owners until the set is over, the open guitar case sprinkled with dollar bills. Some dogs even snooze in the empty guitar case!  Then their owners complete their set and move on to another location to make room for the next performer.

A few weeks ago, a 20-ish couple were hiking in the Pisgah Mountains when they became unexpectedly separated from the couple they were traveling with.  Panic ensued in Asheville and area when the hikers were reported missing by a family member. For 72 solid hours hundreds of volunteers, police, EMTs, search and rescue teams and other authorities, even several helicopters searched the area where they were last seen in the forest.  We had a few cold nights during their disappearance and the main concerns were hypothermia, a fatal fall or a bear attack.  The search went on in full swing.

Then, three days later, someone spotted them in downtown Asheville, busking.  Apparently, they forgot to call their family and let them know their whereabouts.  Tens of thousands of dollars were spent on trying to locate these hikers, people took time off work, helicopters were in the air for two days.  The couple sincerely apologized; they said they lost track of the other pair of hikers and hitched a ride into town with their dog and a guitar. They didn’t expect the whole event to turn into such a huge debacle. Everyone involved in the search was extremely relieved the hikers were alive and safe and the head of the search said he would do it all again and will in future should hikers go astray.

We’ve seen and heard some exceptional talent downtown.  This Mountain Music band was phenomenal.

This girl danced ‘clogging’ style on a board with special ‘tap’ shoes and she was fantastic. The lead singer (to the right) put on a twangy voice that sounded like a Victrola record.
All very authentic.  Kinduv gives you goosebumps, they are so natural and professional.
I want to take up banjo playing.
Zuma and I could go on the road.
You know I’m kidding, right?

Restaurants, especially those offering outdoor patio seating, don’t shoo off the buskers.  In fact, buskers attract customers.

We’ll often toss a few dollars in a hat for good entertainment, especially if the buskers have a dog alongside.  Zuma has befriended a few of these cool dogs.  I wonder what they think of this lanky chic dog wearing her rhinestone collar!

The entertainment, music and songs from these street performers offer vitality and energy to downtown; they make people smile and feel good.

Everybody likes to feel good.

Bears

May 17, 2016

For the past two weeks since the bears were last sighted here, Zuma has been going on hyper alert and barking at “something” in the woods behind our RV.  I suspect it is just Godzilla.  No big deal.

One evening recently, our neighbors were outside chatting with me and we heard a ruckus in the woods nearby.  Like, crashing through the trees ruckus.  Zuma had been staring down there for a few minutes but she rarely barks. Then the woofing began and it’s been an every other day occurrence since.  Sometimes she is laying outside on her bed beside me and suddenly, up goes her head, she pulls her longe line lead taut and lets out a huge WOOF.  For such a girlie-girl, her bark resembles a giant, imposing , ferocious male dog.  It makes my legs tingle and my hair stand up on end.  She is an “alert barker” and since she seldom “goes off” any bark is a cause for concern.

This afternoon I asked Missy at the office about the bears and inquired if they were relocated; she calmy said the mother is part of an “urban suburban” project and the authorities tag her when she is hibernating. She doesn’t bother anybody.  Apparently, Momma Bear was here last year and wandered up by the pool one day and freaked out one of the office staff members.  The pool is a mere stone’s throw from our place.  The garbage here is secure, everybody is chilled out.  We don’t bother them, they don’t come close enough to bother us.  I’m still on hyper alert and keeping Zuma on a tight chain.  I explained to her she is bred to be a boar hunter not a bear hunter.  She ignores me and puffs up her jowls and lets out a gentle warning woof.  She is keeping me informed, protecting me.

Other people near us said their dogs were barking and alertedly staring in the same direction as Zuma.  So we’re keeping our eyes peeled. And hoping Zuma will stop with that freak-me-out  make my hair stand on end barking.

Momma Bear has her paws fill with her triplets.  She seems to keep to herself after her high wire tree climbing antics.

Drum Circle Beats in Heart of Asheville

May 14, 2016.

Drum Circle.

Every Friday evening the heart of Asheville throbs with the beating of drums in the downtown core.  Everyone is welcome to join in, bring your drum/drums and enjoy the positive energy of being part of an easy going jam session.

Doug, Zuma and I went to Pritchard Square last Friday night to experience Asheville’s Drum Circle.  All are welcome, there is no charge and the crowd grew and grew as the evening progressed.  I’d read about the Friday Night Drum Circle in the local publications and have wanted to attend for several weeks.  We thought it would be a fun time and it was, with lots of talent, laughter and infectious, non-stop drumming and happiness.  These two guys were the main core of the event last week and it was standing room only with people from varying walks of life enjoying the good karma and positive energy:

This section is respectfully reserved for drummers; there were all kinds of musicians of all ages and stages, eager to be a part of this good time.  People brought steel drums, cow bells, bongos.
I was concerned that it may be too much for Zuma but, within a block of approaching the energetic circle of drummers and dancers, Zuma grabbed the leash from my hand and bounced along the sidewalk to the event.  She seemed empowered by the drums, she had no fear.  She thoroughly enjoyed herself, wagging her tail to the beat.

The crowd is a diversified mixture of enthusiastic musicians and the public who really get into it.  There was a woman who is clearly a professional belly dancer, there were children and 75 year olds who just wanted to let loose.  Everybody danced together.

A Congo line was spontaneously formed this warm spring evening in the middle of the city and people of all ages jumped aboard.
Just because.

It is a calm, hippie-like crowd:

We met some really nice people, a woman from Australia, a couple from Boston, a family from Minnesota.  It was loud and energetic but peaceful at the same time.

Come one, come all, bring your drum and join, play along, no matter your talents or lack thereof.  Or dance, just feel free to let down your hair, go for it.

Mountain Rain, Purple Reign.

April 30th, 2016.

Wow.  It is absolutely POURING rain here tonight.  It woke me up, the pounding on the roof was seriously loud in the middle of the night but it makes me smile, remembering my Dad’s comment to me when I was nine or ten:  “The best sound is that of rain on a tin roof”..

Okay, I’m emotioanlly derailing.  Back on track.

We’ve had a few quiet days here in WNC this past week; it’s been so hot (80s) Zuma just wants to loaf on the bed and do absolutely nothing. I’m going along with it.  I yearn for the pool to open up.  Z and I have both been chilling out in the heat (not humid, just bone-warming) in between short walks and running around trying to replace a Hula Girl fuse issue (now repaired, thankfully, major kudos to Chris next door for identifying the problem and, after three visits, thank you to the repair guy who finally pulled it together).  I’ve been doing a lot of reading and researching, snapping photos and taking drives around Asheville and area.

The RV Park emptied out on Friday and we bid adieu to many fine folks we met the past week or two and now it is filling up again. Amber, a lovely 17 year old who visits next door, pops by on weekends when she comes with her Mom to stay with her Dad.

She brought her little Yorkie x Poodle named Buckwheat this trip.  Zuma and Buckwheat are in love.  There is nothing Zuma adores more than a cool little dog and Buckwheat weighs about 4 lbs maximum and he is feeling pretty terrific that he has a big friend.

As Emma would say …. WANT.
OMG.  He is adorable.

We had a blast walking the two of them around the RV Park together for a few days; Buckwheat trotting at top speed trying to keep up with Zuma’s gentle, slow-paced stroll.  We met a lot of people who were delighted to see the odd couple of dogs interacting so peacefully.

Doug is in Maine and returning here in a few days.  Back at the farm, he’s catching up on work duties, farm and house chores.

As the world mourns the sudden and untimely passing of the phenomenal musical genius Prince, I read one headline brilliantly entitled PURPLE REIGN so I had to borrow that for this post. Please don’t sue me wonderful writer of this title.

Back to Prince.  The sky is crying.
“This is what it sounds like when the doves cry”.

When I experienced a life-threatening accident in 2004 and nearly lost my lower left leg (I was asked to sign for amputation in case they couldn’t save my severely smashed knee and lower limb).  I had compartment syndrome and historically, amputation is the solution.  After the surgery, I was given Oxycontin.  I don’t even take aspirin if I get a once every five year headache.  But I required two surgeries and I had no choice but to take pain-killers.  This drug is a narcotic, an opiate.  Sure, it kills the pain and I would scream for it in the night as I was in absolute agony.  It was so unbelievably painful I seriously wanted my leg amputated. But the pills worked.  They killed the pain.  Yet they rendered me pretty much emotionally physically and spiritually useless. My orthopedic surgeon didn’t forewarn me of the horrific side effects nor the addictive properties.

I find that unforgivable.

One snowy Winter morning, cooped up in the house since early September, I started searching the internet.  (I had to elevate my leg so computer surfing was pretty much impossible with my leg propped up on the desk to avoid painful swelling and numbness). , Even with home visits from a nurse to administer medications and iv and a physical therapist who worked with me to regain muscle tone and strength, I was unable to get upstairs to sleep in our bed for over three months.  I slept in the living room in a crunchy plastic-coated rented hospital bed, leg elevated, for over three months.

This past week, when I heard that Prince was suffering painful knee issues, I felt sure he was on this drug.  And he was.  Call it what you like, Percoset/Oxycontin/Vicodin (Oxy’s baby brother). These are horrible horrible highly addictive drugs. Sure they kill the pain for a few hours, but I find it disgraceful that my surgeon didn’t advise me of the side effects.  I’d never heard of this drug.  I didn’t realize this is the stuff people break into pharmacies to steal, risking jail time.

When I researched the drugs that lonely cold snowy morning, my gigantically swollen leg hiked up on my desk and found out I was on opiates, (argh), I decided to quit taking them cold turkey (don’t do this, it wasn’t pretty, this is not the chosen/advised withdrawal route).  For four days nobody could talk to me, touch me, or even be near me.

Emma sobbed, “I’ve lost my Mother” and I cried for two solid days. I couldn’t walk, I could barely have a shower.  Doug was away in Europe on business for three weeks.  It was the lowest point of my life.  It was Emma’s birthday.  I was disabled. I guess it’s like coming off heroin.

I took Ibuprofin, on doctor’s orders, but I couldn’t eat.  I was so weak.  I couldn’t think straight.  I was weak and frail. Friends came and stayed with me Years later, I was diagnosed as having PTSD. Yes.  I do.

I was fortunate, while Doug was away on business, friends came and stayed with me, cooked and cleaned (thank you Sandi and Susan).  Poor Emma, she suffered the most.  She managed our three horses all Winter, changing their blankets and shoveling, tossing hay and hauling water.  I was useless and I won’t ever forget it.

Em spent a lot of evenings in tears after chores and homework and my futile efforts making crappy dinners.

When I figured out the pill issue, I sat in my wheelchair in the dark feeling sorry for myself for four long dark days but I was determined not to be on poison pills.  People called to cheer me up but I didn’t want to depress my family or friends, I couldn’t handle worrying people and I didn’t make sense.

Prince was one of a kind and I grew up enjoying his music.  As it pours down on the roof of Hula Girl tonight with thunder booming it’s giant voice and lightning flashing over the mountains nearby, I am thinking of his famous song Purple Rain.  RIP Prince.  You gave so much to this world and will be missed forever.  Your music will live on.

Boone, Blue Ridge Parkway, Blowing Rock and Beech Mountain.

April 22 – 24, 2016.

We jumped in the car this morning and headed along the Blue Ridge Parkway for a three day excursion to Boone, a college town a little more than an hour away.  There is so much to see in that direction we wanted to take our time.  Since we drove on the Parkway a couple of weeks ago the leaves have begun to explode and our path was flanked by a corridor with a multitude of greens, reds, oranges and chartreuse.

I had to photograph this old pic when we were at Blowing Rock.

This is Grandfather Mountain:

I guess if you look at it for a few seconds, yes, it resembles a reclined snoring Grandfather’s profile, open-mouthed after a hefty Sunday dinner, crashed on the sofa.

The irises here are in full bloom now and the Peonies are about to pop open.

Doug says that back in Maine the daffodils are beginning to bloom in our garden but here, the season here is clearly 4 – 6 weeks ahead of our season in Maine.

Boone (yes, it’s the home of Daniel Boone); is a vibrant, mountain college town, very artsy and getting there is a reward in itself, a lovely peaceful drive along The Blue Ridge Parkway via Tennessee.  This is the charming Visitor’s Center in Tennessee.  We like to stop at these places to gather info and walk Zuma.

On a hike just off the Parkway, we saw lots of wildflowers beaming humbly from between rocky crevices:

The town of Boone is really charming, a bustling main street with a mountain backdrop.  We spent a few hours exploring the interesting shops, an artistic collection of old and new with lots of pottery and paintings, consignment and antique shops and restaurants that offer both casual and fine dining.
Research Queen that I am, I found out from the literature I snagged at the Visitor Center that BLOWING ROCK is a cool place to check out so we toured Boone and delightful shops full of enticing artwork and the next day went to Blowing Rock.
I was reading a lot about Blowing Rock and I found this on line:
It is said that a Chickasaw chieftan, fearful of a white man’s admiration for his lovely daughter, journeyed far from the plains to bring her to The Blowing Rock and the care of a squaw mother. One day the maiden, daydreaming on the craggy cliff, spied a Cherokee brave wandering in the wilderness far below and playfully shot an arrow in his direction. The flirtation worked because soon he appeared before her wigwam, courted her with songs of his land and they became lovers, wandering the pathless woodlands and along the crystal streams.
One day a strange reddening of the sky brought the brave and the maiden to The Blowing Rock. To him it was a sign of trouble commanding his return to his tribe in the plains. With the maiden’s entreaties not to leave her, the brave, torn by conflict of duty and heart, leaped from The Rock into the wilderness far below. The grief-stricken maiden prayed daily to the Great Spirit until one evening with a reddening sky, a gust of wind blew her lover back onto The Rock and into her arms. From that day a perpetual wind has blown up onto The Rock from the valley below. For people of other days, at least, this was explanation enough for The Blowing Rock’s mysterious winds causing even the snow to fall upside down.

I do have to say, for the seven dollar entrance fee per person, Blowing Rock is a pretty cool experience.  It was far from snowing upside down but it was breezy and yes, my hair did blow up off my head.  The views are definitely mind-blowing.

Speaking of hair-dos, Doug’s hair stayed put but that’s another story.  Doug has the BEST HAIR EVER (think Kenny Rogers or better still, Anderson Cooper); so, about ten days ago we were at WEDGE and there is this really super cool hair salon in the facility. And several of the guy stylists are outish and gay and I thought this would be a great experience for Doug to have a haircut at a salon instead of his regular barber (nothing against his barber who does a fabulous job but I thought it would be fun for Doug to do the salon thing, you know fancy conditioner and all).  So, I convinced Doug (after one beer) that he needed to get his hair cut there.  He immediately walked over and made an appointment.  Research Queen checked Trip Advisor and, to our horror, I discovered that Doug was going to be clipped by a woman with horrific reviews. Like, aaah. Apparently she had made some horrible mistakes, cutting three months of hair growth off a bride-to-be, plunking herself in a chair and bursting into tears in front of another client and requesting her boss repair her mistakes. OMG. What have I done?!

I explained to Doug that he may be shorn like a sheep.  He even joked about her carving her initial into the back of his head.  I was nervous.  Doug was not in the least bit concerned.  He coolly strolled to his appointment the following morning.  Brave soul that he is. I had a lot of fun teasing him the night before about what a horror show it could turn into but he wasn’t falling for my sick sense of humor. When he emerged, it looked fine, just DIFFERENT but he said once he washed it he was going to be okay with it.  Then, after a couple of days, he got back to Maine and booked in with his regular barber who shook his head and pointed out the errors in the cut.  It’s all fixed now.  I really like this view!

On one of our excursions we drove up Beech Mountain aw we heard Fred’s General Mercantile is a fun stop.  It is!  It’s been there since 1979 and, judging by the extensive variety and amount of stock, Fred’s is obviously thriving. We were surprised to find a whole town up there (elevation 5,506′)!  It is a popular ski area and Fred’s has a little of everything:
On our drive home we stopped in Little Switzerland and had a salad at the cafe:
and then drove more of the Blue Ridge Parkway.  This is the beautiful Linville Parkway.  It’s a bit of a scary  exhilarating drive but looking out over the mountains, it’s all worth it.
We admired how the road was built so as not to disturb the mountainside:
At these higher elevations the leaves have not yet opened up, but the panoramic views are still nothing short of spectacular.  We all had a great weekend!