Doodle Bug

   Wise eyes,

A sweet disposition,

And wild tenancies.

I sure do love this furry child 'o mine.

Can't Stand 'Em

What's to like about blackberries?

I truly can't understand their popularity.

Other than that they are wild and free,

what we want to be.

A gift of fruit from Mother Nature, Father God.

My first year for blackberries was the first summer we had our Mountain Farm.

I found a large patch across the street,

beside our hayfield.

I made my way through it,

basket in hand.

In the scorching hot blaring July sun.

Scratched arms, lingering ticks, sweat dripping in my eyes,

fearing snakes and spiders the entire time.

To pick blackberries.

There for the taking.

Wild and free,

what we want to be.

I marched into my farmhouse kitchen proudly!

The first harvest of anything from our farm.

And we didn't even plant

or plan it.

Ah, the farm life.

Baskets of juicy, plump blackberries.

My family gathered at the kitchen table

and

we tasted nature's gift.

The fruit was not sweet enough to compensate for all the seeds.

The seeds are huge and hard and bitter.

We spit them out into our hands.

Except for my husband,

who swallowed his,

but had a look of disbelief on his face.

We were undelighted

with blackberries.

And they asked me:

Why did you pick so many?

Didn't you taste them before now?

What do you plan to do with all these blackberries?

Very good questions indeed.

Yes, I tasted the blackberries

out there

when this whole thing began.

Of course I did.

And they were good.

And as I picked them,

I envisioned blackberry muffins and blackberry cobbler and blackberry pound cake and was even thinking blackberry homemade ice-cream.

Why they tasted so good to me then and so horrible now

is something I can't understand.

The thrill?

The sun?

I don't know.

But here I sat with a bucketload of blackberries.

Well, never fear, sweet family.

I'll make blackberry jam.

I dug out my Blue Ball Canning Book.

And I cooked the berries down.

And then, even though the directions did not say to,

I strained out the seeds.

Because they are so bitter and prominent.

And when I finished, I couldn't believe my eyes.

There was hardly anything left to make jelly from.

A day's work.

Hot, tired.

Five small half-pints.

And that never happened again.

Every summer since then

I look the other way

when I see that large blackberry patch

at our Mountain Farm. 

But

This year

I had some blackberry vines growing wild

here at home

on the edge of my "city" lawn.

And I did not eradicate them.

I left them to grow.

Thorns and all,

wild and free,

for no particular reason

other than that's what we all want to be.

Wild and free.

And maybe I was thinking too

that I'd give them another chance.

Other people seem to love 'em.

And they grew and and I did.

And Bleh.

I can't stand 'em.

Wild and Free

and wholly undelighted.

So I was glad to see that the creatures of the lawn

(deer. rabbits. dogs. birds. insects. raccoons. opossums.)

cleaned me out of blackberries last night.

Not a single solitary berry left on the bush.

Alrighty then.

Suits me.

The Chattanooga Choo-Choo

Sure, it's a Glenn Miller song, but it's also a very cool place to visit.

What's so cool about the Chattanooga Choo-Choo in Chattanooga, Tennessee?

Well, for starters, it's listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

I am a sucker for historic places.

Every time.

The Chattanooga Choo-Choo is a destination hotel that opened in 1909 as a busy train station,

the "Terminal Station."

Now it's a fun place to visit and stay.

My daughter and I headed up from Atlanta. It was an easy drive, taking a little over two hours.

The hardest part of the trip up was getting out of the way of all the speeding 18-wheelers

who think they own I-75.

(Maybe they do?)

Once we safely arrived in Chattanooga, we had a blast.

We checked in the Chattanooga Choo-Choo and roamed around the 24 acre hotel grounds.

There is plenty to do there:

A model train museum, restaurants, a trolley ride, gardens, shops, including a ice cream and candy shop.

The front of the train station-turned-hotel.

The lobby has a grand domed ceiling and beautiful arched windows.
Lovely old architecture. (They don't make 'em like that any more.)

The Gardens Restaurant is located behind the lobby.

You can count on me to show you all the highlights of a place.
I loved this Ladies Room. The marble and oak and tile took me right back to a different era:
one where trains were roaring into the station
and folks were rushing to catch Number 29.
(except that wasn't really the number: that's just part of the song.)



An old train designated Number 29, the Chattanooga Choo-Choo

The lovely gardens behind the "station."
The roses were in profuse bloom.

I was taking a photo of the gardens in the other direction.
When I turned around, my daughter was dancing on the path.
That's what I meant when I said,
"Hang out with someone under the age of 12 or over the age of 80."
It's sure to bring a smile and a brightened outlook.

The frog pond.
(Have I mentioned I want one of these?)

A trolley tour shows us around the compound.

"Tickets, please."

The inside of the old trolley car is quaint and wonderful.
Definitely ride if you visit!
This trolley car ran in New Orleans until they shut down the trolley system there.
We learned a lot about the Chattanooga Choo-Choo from the "driver."

We took advantage of all the tourist things.
Remember the box that presses a penny with an imprint of the attraction?
So cool.
The penny was pressed with the Chattanooga Choo-Choo emblem.

And this!
I loved this!
Madam Estrella or some such name like that.
I hadn't seen one of these in a million years.
Do you remember these?
You put in a quarter or fifty cents and the lights come on and Madam moves around.
Madam gives you your fortune and a fortune card drops out.
What fun!

And for $2 we had our portrait sketched by a computer. What tourists we were! It was great!

Then we went to see our room.

The hotel has three different options for accommodations.

There are two different hotel buildings

AND

ta-da!

The wonderful Victorian Train Cars in the garden area.

You know we chose the Train Cars!

We went to get our stuff out of the car and headed to see our room.

Hands down, this is my very favorite picture of the whole trip.
My daughter, heading to our Victorian Train Car, Mickey Mouse (whom she has always called "Keith") in tow.

Our train car room is behind that fountain, on the other side of that gorgeous white crepe myrtle, beside those cute shops, after the picnic tables. Is this a fantastic place to stay or what! You talk about atmosphere!

Step right up.
All aboard!
All aboard!
We had room 760.
I loved the location, right in the front.

Inside the room.

Many of the original features remain.
Like, the luggage racks that hung over the seats.
My daughter enjoyed looking at the medal walls, finding the remnants of screws or brackets, and then trying to figure out what would have been there when it was a train car.
We talked a lot about what life was like then.
And who might have ridden in our car and where they might have been going.
Home for Christmas? Loaded with presents? Or maybe off to war? Or to see a relative?
The room has windows (of course, it was a train car!) lining both sides.
So, if you opened the shades, it was bright and cheery in the room.
Because it was hot as blazes outside and people are wandering the gardens right outside, we left our shades "drawn." I say "drawn" because it sounds old-timey. But actually I don't know if "drawn" shades are open or closed. ha! So, let me be new-timey. We left our shades closed.

Cozy! We travel lightly, except for the stuffed animals.
That's Keddy and Betty.

Now, if you're looking for the Ritz. This isn't it.
This "Guest Notice" hanging in the room warns us about limited hot water and the lack of sound proofing between the rooms in the car. Each train car was divided into two long, narrow rooms.
Well, we had plenty of hot water and didn't hear a thing!

This is an old train car converted to a hotel room.
It offers charm and history and interesting vibes.
It's fun and memorable.
But it's not the Ritz.
I say that because I came across some reviews of the Victorian Train Cars online just now that weren't great.
Yes, folks. It's an old train car.
That's exactly WHY I stayed there.
So, yes, the bathroom was retro-fitted. That was no surprise to me: there wasn't a shower when this was a Victorian train car.
I loved it. All the interesting nooks and crannies.



Delicious waffles, y'all! Make sure to order them for breakfast!



My daughter said that she'll remember spending the night in the Choo-Choo's Victorian Train Car FOREVER.

"Do you think I could bring my children? Will it still be here?" she asked me.
I sure hope so!
What a treasured piece of Americana History the Chattanooga Choo-Choo is.





MaryJanesFarm

I put up a new post at http://www.maryjanesfarm.com/.
Here's the link. Pop over and visit! We're talking about freeing your spirit. And, I'm wondering what all of yoy do to lift your spirits.
And later on this week here, I'll put up loads of pictures and share all the stories from our trip to Chattanooga, Tennessee.
We had such a blast.... 

Chattanooga Choo Choo

I'm heading out in the morning for a quick road trip.
Here's a big hint to where I'm going.

I've been humming it for days.

I haven't been to the Chattanooga Choo Choo in forever. Seriously, I was a little girl. And now I'm taking my little girl. Well, not so little any more. Ten!

I booked a room for us in a Victorian Train Car. Don't you know that will be a blast! ChooChoo.

And I'm also planning on following the advice we see on the sides of barns and bird houses all over the south:
See Rock City.

And, you know it! I'll have lots of pictures and stories to share with ya!

A Summer Mountain Stroll

We were at our "Mountain Farm."
And everything was so green and lush.
I took my husband and my young-un' and you with me (no dogs invited, sorry pups) for a quick mountain stroll down the country road where my sweet farmhouse lives.

(And has since lived since 1939.)
Good vibrations.

My daughter spotted this interesting and beautiful unraveling plant. I've no idea what that is. It was on top of a tall stalk. The red balls in the background are wild blackberries not yet ripe.

I've shown you this old house before. It is down the road from us.

It is incredibly charming, but probably beyond restoration. Dogs live in it these days.

I have been told that these wildflowers are called "Indian Paintbrush." I looked those up, and I don't think so. They are Scarlet Bee Balm, Monarda. They grow profusely in the area.

"

This particular wildflower is also prolific. I'll try to identify it later today.
I see it on the sides of roads, in pastures and meadows.
It is quite showy, with lots of pretty light pink blossoms.
It is tall and proud,
like it doesn't even realize it is a wildflower.

Here it grows on the side of the road by an old fencepost.
Which, by the way, is MY old fencepost.
Not braggin', just sayin'.
Good vibrations.
I love my old farm so much,
even down to the old rugged fence posts.
I mean, this old fencepost has character, don't you think?
Not like those smooth, slick uniform fence posts of today....
Who's with me on that? Anybody?!

No clue on this one.

That beautiful ball of spiky fluff in the middle opens out to become leaves,

not a flower.

I do know what this is.

It's a Sourwood Tree in bloom.

I love me some Sourwood Honey.

I tasted it for the first time when I was a teenager visiting my great uncle in the mountains of North Carolina.

I have been a "connoisseur" ever since.

A little further down the road is this Sassafras Tree.

I took the picture because I didn't realize Sassafras has that tiny fruit or flower in the middle of the leaves.

All I ever knew was that there are three different shaped leaves that smell like JuicyFruit gum.

And the roots are used for medicial teas.

 



Wild Rhododendron

 


This photo reminds me of being a little girl and walking hand-in-hand with my father.

I remember vividly taking lots of quick steps to keep up with his long strides.

It's a very secure, comforting place to be when you're a little girl, hand-in-hand with your Dad.

I've gotten many requests for the story of how it came to pass that I have a farm and farmhouse, and I will tell it soon. Promise. It's just such a beautiful, but LONG story. One day soon.

The green, green grass AND ROOF of farmhome.

That Mystery Herb

Here is a full shot of "that mystery herb" growing in my herb garden.
Here's the original post about it with close-ups of the leaves and flowers.
I haven't been able to find a photo of anything that looks like this online or in herb books.

Here are the clues:

• The leggy branches are at least 2 feet long each.
• The bloom is purple. It is in bloom now. The little tiny purple flowers on the ends of the stems are the blooms. The bees love the flowers.
• I don't know if it naturally fans out like that, or if my dog Oreo did that when he ran through it this past spring...
• The taste gives me no idea whatsoever.

What say you?

Farmgirl Horse Survey

Did you pop over and take the Farmgirl Horse survey?
It's not too late. Here's the link, join in!

Here are the results:

19% of you have horses
50% don't
31% don't have a horse, but want one

Here are some responses to what the name of your horse is.
Check these out:

• I had a horse when I was a teenager. His name was Strawboss. I loved (love) him with all my heart.
• Bubas Pepper
• Dolly, Bluebelle, Ribbon & Jazz.
• Forever Irish - She is an Irish draft breed and had this name when I bought her. I just call her Forever which is about how long I have wanted a horse!
• I have owned three and the latest one is Ghost Dancer.
• Justice
• Yes-have a miniature horse named Mr Ed! Want a big horse to trail ride!
• Pluot
• I use to have a pony as a little girl and her name was April
• I still pay for my daughter's horse every month since he is old(great health) and neither of us will ever give him up. His name is Albert and he is a purebread Arabian. What a handsome boy he still is!
• Glory, Spirit & Ginger but can't ride any more because of back surgery.
• I grew up with horses, but no longer have them - they were named Paint, Duchess and Dolly (a pinto pony, a buckskin mare and black retired race horse - such was my family growing up!)
• I had one, named Lady. Gave her away due to insufficient time to give her the time and attention she deserved. Miss her terribly.
• monnie, pastor john, red, rusty, rose nyland, cindy lou, david, napoleaon
• I have three: Tryggr, Lars, and Dede

And here are some responses to names for those who dream of having your very own horse. They're all so good! 

• Soda Pop
• I'd have to see the horse before naming it.
• I don't have a name but I have a color...My dream horse is and always has been a Palomino...
• Moonbeam
• Will name the horse after I meet him and get to know him!
• I'd have to meet the horse before I name it.
• We help take of some horses at our friends farm. The farmer doesn't have a lot of time so that is enough of a fix for now! ;)
• A Tennessee Walker named 'Court'
• Dakota ...
• not yet
• Rusty
• ohhhh....Flicka, Dawn (our horse from 35 yrs. ago), Felicia
• Dan the Cowboy
• Spirit or Raven

What a fun survey this has been.
I laughed out loud at "Pastor John" for a horse's name. Love it!
We used to have a cat named "Sister Mary Margaret." Sister wound up being a Brother, but we never changed his name! Poor cat!

A Horse Is A Horse

It is Tuesday. And I'm still in pain. Unbelievable.
This getting out of my comfort zone sure is uncomfortable sometimes.
I'm wondering exactly how long it takes to be able to sit again?
And, oh my aching back. I think I pulled a muscle on my left side.
Perhaps my age has something to do with the lenghy recovery period.
I'm not complaining though. It was worth it!!
Pop over and visit me at The City Farmgirl Blog.
I've put up a new post about my latest OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE adventure this past weekend.

Carefree Daylillies

They ask for nothing.

They take nothing.

They require nothing.

No particular soil. No extra watering. No fertilizer. No weeding. No nothing.

They are truly carefree.

A few daylillies (eventually) become many.

They are great for naturalizing a sunny slope.

Which is what mine are doing.

In all their beautiful

shapely

orange-ness.

 

Hemerocallis Fulva Kwanso

Double Orange Daylillies

Thrown out as trash by a neighbor years ago.

When I lived in the basement apartment of a 100-year-old house in mid-town Atlanta.

My Daddy visited me one day and picked them up on his way out.
Always a gardener; he couldn't just leave them there to perish.

Many years later, he divided them and passed some on to me.

When I finally had my own yard.
And became a gardener too.