Brewuna Cafe

What is Brewuna Cafe?

 

Standing in the halls of the Birmingham Art Museum, gazing at the work of some of the finest American painter, I felt something in my soul stir. The face of confederate soldier, so downtrodden yet still defiant, the shadows flitting over the face of the Grand Canyon, made the rest of the world fade away. 

The moment didn’t pass, it stayed with me. The pain, the beauty, the passion that I saw portrayed in those wood-floored rooms behind gold gilt frames made my own life seem imbued with a new energy. How had I not noticed how graceful the wrinkles around a strangers eyes could be? When did the sight of the sun clinging to the horizon cease to take my breath away? 

I don’t understand how art has this power to move us. The tears that stand in our eyes as the last notes of a symphony fade away, the last line of a poem that causes our heart to swell to bursting, the photograph that make us dream of far-off places. 

At Brewuna Cafe, our goal is to bring this experience to as many people as possible. The value of art isn’t in it’s components, it is in the way it transcends and takes us to a place far removed from the ordinary. It reminds us that we are not just animals struggling to survive, but that there is a deeper and more complex answer to the mundane questions that life asks of us. 

That is the origin story of Brewuna Cafe. The idea that even in a dark place, where life seems more like a chore than an adventure, there is a desire that lays dormant. A desire to explore the creative and find our own story to tell. So here at the Cafe we hope and pray that you come ready to be lifted up, and to find your voice amidst the clamor. 

 

 

“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival”

-C.S. Lewis  

Courtesy of Quiggins Photography

May first art show

 

 

Fall: cider and donuts

Brewuna Cafe operates on a volunteer basis at the generosity of the Potter’s House Family Worship Center. If you are interested in getting involved, please message Elizabeth at elizabeth.cramton@gmail.com

N'awlins is short for "the best food anywhere"

   On my short trip to New Orleans, Louisiana, I enlisted the help of fellow foodie (and friend), Chris.

   He directed me first to Cafe Du Monde in the French Quarter for beignets and special coffee made with chicory, which I drank black (like a boss).
   Beignets are french "doughnuts", not what we would consider doughnuts, but more like a cross between a traditional doughnut and a funnel cake. Squares of a light dough are deep fried and BURIED in powdered sugar and served hot and delicious.
   The coffee at Cafe Du Monde is blended with chicory (endive root)-a habit adopted during the Civil War when coffee beans were scarce, and continued to this day. If you don't like coffee black, order a traditional cafe au lait-a mix of coffee, milk and half and half.

Read more about Cafe Du Monde

   For lunch we went to The Coops Place "where the not-so-elite meet to eat". While the atmosphere is decidedly laid-back, the Jambalaya Supreme is quite possible the most well-crafted dish I have ever consumed.
   Ever.

   One thing I always try to find when I am traveling is a used bookstore, and I hit the jackpot with Beckham's Bookshop.
 
   As soon as you open the door, the smell of aged paper and decaying spines beckons you in. Like anyone who has spent any time with old books, I have grown to love the smell the glue in the binding gives off as it slowly rots, especially when mixed with the dusty odor the pages get when they haven't been turned in years.

   Old men in long beards and longer coats walked quietly through the aisles, picking up weather-beaten copies of more recent favorites, as well as heavier tomes. The creak of old floorboards let everyone know that you were entering the upstairs area of the store, and served to warn the fat cat that lived there that someone was entering his domain.
 
   I picked up a copy of one of my old favorites, Anne of Avonlea, to add to my collection and as a souvenir of one of the most perfect bookstores I've had the pleasure to visit.

   Because nothing goes with a good book like a cup of coffee, I walked my way to Canal St & St. Charles to visit this Starbucks: 

   It was unique, it was chic, it had bathrooms that were locked with a keypad. While I love the ambiance and I love Starbucks, I do not love having all the baristas know how often I use the loo (there is no way I'm memorizing 6 digits just to piss).

   Before dinner we stopped at the mall for tea samples and popcorn. Popcorn Bistro ships folks, so even if you don't make it to the Big Easy, you can still try their wild and spectacular popcorn flavors like boiled crawfish, zesty buffalo wing and mardi gras mambo.
   Yes, please.
   After trying about a dozen flavors, I have decided that popcorn gets its own food group.

   As the temperature dropped, I stayed warm with a bowl of only slightly-but-pleasantly-spicy gumbo and a cafe au lait. A word of advice to anyone looking to visit New Orleans: bring cash. Most coffee vendors and a few other places do not accept credit cards. Shocking, but kind of nice in an old-world throwback kind of way.

   I stayed at the India House Hostel for the night,  my first time actually staying at a hostel. A creaky old house with a front room filled with hippies and stickers on the walls, it was nonetheless clean, comfortable and affordable. While I might not go out of my way to stay at hostels in the future, I was pleasantly surprised at how efficient and economical my stay was.

   All in all, my stay in New Orleans was a success. While the trumpet players in the streets, the old world European flair of the houses and shops that line streets are memorable, It's my taste buds that will never let me forget N'awlins.

Hanging baskets in the French Quarter 

Fat Cat at Beckam's that owned the upstairs 

Statue to commemorate the founding of New Orleans in 1718

The Open Road

     It's that time again. Time to pack up my little red lady, my bed on wheels, and wake up in another zip code. My backseat is loaded with pillows and blankets for when I need to take a rest, and nestled safely in my passenger seat are two of closest friends: a cooler filled with food and a bag of books.
 
      I'm set. GPS on and Pandora tuned to the Avett Brothers station, I am once again reunited with my own true love, the open road. I drive through the night and keep my self awake by singing along to my favorite songs or looking out for deer grazing by the road.
   
     Every time I leave home, I feel the conflict inside myself. I am filled with anticipation for what lies beyond the next bend, but I leave some of myself at home. Ten days of new adventure, of different faces and voices; ten days of no kisses in the morning and no cuddles goodnight, no teasing banter and familiar smiles. Every time, I ask myself: am I running toward adventure, or running away from stability? Is every jaunt into the unknown simply to undo all the things I have built, to prove that I am just a rolling stone?
    
    Too many times we look at something that is good, something that is fulfilling, and we run the opposite way in blind fear. We fear love because it asks so much of us, and guarantees so little. So we run-to anything and anyone that promises to keep us safe, to not ask too much, to stay just a little bit distant. Little by little the color and vibrancy is wiped off our smile, till we have nothing left to run to.
     By all means, run forward. Drink in every new sunset and every different smell, climb mountains and swim upstream. Just remember, in the movement forward, to hold tightly to the things that make the journey worthwhile. Savor friendships as they grow and change, gaining the patina and strength of shared memories, cherish the days that waste away slowly in the warmth of familiar companionship.

     Sometimes, the greatest adventure we can experience is the one we live every day.

Gym. Tan. Laundry?

Things you learn working at a gym:

10)  Yes, some women do roll out of bed looking gorgeous, and even in ratty sweats they will still look radiant.
And yes, it is revolting.

9)  I am not one of those women.
Don't get me wrong, on a good day, using instagram filters and a flattering  pose I think I post a solid 7. However, 8 am in gym shorts and last nights make-up is another matter entirely.

8)  You are never too old to act like a bumbling idiot in front of an attractive man.
At 25 you think you are over that blushing, stammering stage-until your making a smoothie for blue-eyes and you forget to put the lid on...

7)  Stereotypes about fit people are often false.
As much as you would like to blame your body on  your busy lifestyle, many of the most fit people I have seen hold jobs and/or go to school. Don't be so quick to write off the guys as "meat heads" just because they're big-some of them might be smarter and more educated than you are.

6) Sometimes the stereotypes are true.
These guys can talk for hours about protein and supplements, but don't expect them to know who Donne is. Or the current president for that matter.

5)  Men really don't change.
The guys watching the girls on the treadmill or the squat rack wear the same face, whether they are 16 or 65.

4) Not everyone should wear yoga pants.
At some point you have to look at people and wonder "how did they look at themselves in the mirror an walk out the door?" I'm not saying that all body types are not beautiful, but you should know what yours is and dress accordingly. To the size 14 in a size 4, you are not rocking it. You are not "owning your body", your body is owning you.
(To be fair, I have done this. I will grab my tiny sister's clothes when I have no clean laundry, and I am properly ashamed).

3)  Gyms should have an age requirement
Or at least stamp the hand of minors. Just because he can grow a beard and has a cute butt does not mean he is over 18. The horrified feeling when he walks in with his class of '14 sweater on will haunt you forever.

The two most important things working at a gym has taught me are:

2) It's never too late to change. I see people into their 70's hitting the weights and staying healthy. If they can do it then there is no excuse for me not to.
   It's not about being skinny or even looking good, it's about making time to be active because it feels good and keeps you young. I no longer view fitness as simply something to make me lean and attractive, but something that I can do to make myself healthier, stronger and more energetic.

1) No two bodies are the same.
Even fit bodies are different, so stop comparing yours to someone else's! You can do all the butt lifts you want, but if it's not in your genetics you will never have ScarJo's curves. Often times women that have a body you would kill for are still insecure. Be comfortable in your own skin, push yourself to be your best and be satisfied. Getting down to your goal weight or level of fitness will not make you love yourself-if you don't love yourself now you never will.



Happy New Years!

Potential

Seeds are not pretty. I have never heard someone stop and remark, "what a lovely seed!"

Seeds are usually withered and dark, small and insignificant.

All of their beauty is tightly bound up where no one can see, hidden on the inside.

But, oh!

When the sun comes, and the rain, the seed cracks open and reveals its true self.

Tendrils of green and white arise, roots and stalk and leaves,

The seed, the shell, long forgotten

In the beauty of new life.

 

You and I, everyone of us like a seed

contains a pent-up beauty, a life within a shell

Whether a stark beech, or a fragrant sage,

Hungry for the sun and thirsting for the rain

We still cling to our shell, like only humans can

Hiding our life, our beauty, our potential.

 

 

Why I'm not saving myself for my husband

   I started thinking about this subject because I have not one, but TWO nieces that will be teenagers this year.

   Yes, I'm properly terrified. 

   As I started thinking about all the things I've learned in the twelve years since I was their age, one of the things I thought I should address was the "purity" question. Now, growing up in a Christian, homeschooling home, I heard enough purity speeches and read enough dating material that I could probably teach a class on it. However, I don't feel like any of the things that I was taught actually brought me any closer to "purity"....instead, I think it gave me a lot of wrong ideas about purity. Ideas like:

• Purity means that you are saving your virginity for your husband

   One of the definitions of pure as defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary is "free from moral fault or guilt", and the Greek hagneia translates as "sinless of life". Don't think that just because you are NOT having sex, that you are pure.

• You should be patiently waiting for your spouse, and trying to prepare yourself for the perfect person God has set aside for you.

   How could this be a bad thing? Well, when that cute boy goes to kiss you, you don't usually ponder "what is my future husband going to think of this?" but I can't tell you how many times I have thought "what does God think about this?" To rely on my future relationship with my spouse to bring about right behavior is wrong, it is a far better thing to rely on my current relationship with a perfect God to bring about a healthy relationship with an imperfect person.

• If you save yourself for marriage, you will be blessed for your obedience by a Godly spouse

   A Godly husband is great, but if virginity is the litmus test, then does that mean that all others have to take whatever is left? Also, someone should have told that to Hosea, because lets be real, he pretty much married a hooker.

   Other ideas that tend to come across through all of this, are that the main reasons to stay pure sexually are because a) it will make your future spouse happy and b) you won't get stuck with an icky STD

So what do I believe is the right idea of purity?

• Don't stay pure FOR your future spouse. 

   If got blesses you with a Godly man, I hope and pray that you have a happy and healthy marriage. But don't follow God for him-do it because you genuinely desire God's presence in your life. Too many young girls get caught up in a "Christian Disney" fantasy, that has a sad habit of dangling romance in front of their faces in exchange for obedience.

• You don't "lose" your purity in as much as through Christ, you gain it. 

   We have this notion that our purity is something that we give away when we have sex, but we don't actually come into this world pure. We are filled with plenty of evil thoughts and desires, and true purity only comes from God. As you surrender your will to Him, He will purify your heart.

   So what can I say? What should they be thinking about when they make decisions on dating and romance as they mature?
   Here is what I have found: regardless of what man I meet in the future, my commitment to purity isn't for him. Let's face it, the happiness of a man that I don't know and that may or may not meet in the future is not exactly a strong deterrent when it comes to living a Godly lifestyle. However, there is someone that I have met, and the more I get to know Him, the more I desire a pure and holy life. Why? Because the closer I get to the Holy, the more the profane slips away.
  
    I have made a lot of mistakes, and have learned enough lessons the hard way. What I hope to share with my nieces through all of it is this: God is your true lover. Save yourself for HIM. Not just for the future when you are united with Him forever, but in every thought, in every breath you have today. Give Him your heart, your soul and your body, and I promise that He will bring you a love and a completeness that you will never find in the words or affection of a man. Whatever temptations or trials may come, the Greatest Love Story has still been written for you, and there is no man who can ever compare.
   So no, I am not saving myself for my husband, instead I am giving myself to the One that saved me.

Every new beginning

 

I do not come from this world.

     I come from a world of white and clean, not sterile but soft, with round edges and sweet smells. I knew a world existed outside of the womb like state I existed in, heard the bells ring and the dogs bark; heard doors slam and voices rise, but never did it cross the threshold into where I lived. I was a disinterested observer, gazing past the treetops to the sky, never feeling the rough bark under my skin.
      The day I was born from that world into this one came about the time I turned twenty-one. I stepped out from gentleness into bright, vivid splashes of color everywhere I looked. It was as blinding as it was beautiful, this thing called love.

     Falling in love for the first time, at least if you do it the way I did, is like jumping out a plane into a rainbow without a parachute. You know that you will probably break everything at the end, but the fall is so spectacular that you hardly think of anything else.  
     The tightness in your chest, the inability to breathe…the faster you fall the more intense every sensation gets. It is all bright red and orange and purple, a swirl of color and imaginings, like a Picasso lit on fire. After the flame burns down, the film that shields your eyes from seeing the world as it is burns away.
     In its place I found a new clarity, as well as a profound appreciation for the gentle web I was wrapped in, the sweet abode that taught me to value honesty and give to beggars, to seek the truth in every lie.  
     The world that I came from is not the one I live in now, and while I might yearn to go and crawl back to my philosophical safety blanket, I can’t. Instead I stand spattered with the red ink of heartache and the deep blue of regret, yet always looking for soft edges in a world of sharp corners, eyes wide open to the beauty of both worlds.   

Stormy seas and a gentle breeze

Love
Is not the highs and lows
It's not the moments of joy
Or the tears of frustration
It is the empty moments
That fall through the
Cracks;
The silences that comfortably
Rest between two souls
Knitted together

Time travel is exausting

But worth it.
   I remember back when I was a child, and  I go back to a simpler time. A time before facebook, when (if you were lucky) you had a personal website like this.
   No cellphones meant that you had to meet someone at an established meeting place at a specific time. If you were late, with no way to call they either sat there...or left you.
  No facebook and cellphone meant you actually had to carry a camera AND get pictures developed to show your friends what a cool time you had! Then there was that decision...to pay the extra for the one hour photo developing or drop the film off and come back. That's right, film. Half the time you had no idea what your pictures looked like or how many pictures of your hand you were paying for.
   The word "google" had no meaning, but if you were a smarty pants (like me) you were familiar enough with the pages of the Encyclopedia Britannica and Merriam-Webster's to whip out an answer when challenged.
   Blockbuster was a real thing, not a movie ATM in supermarkets.
   Downloading music was a new fad, a lot of people didn't think it would last. Why download music onto a tiny chip when you can just play all your awesome albums in your Walkman? Sure, if you jostled it too much it would skip, but wearing one made rollerblading look that much cooler.

That is, if you had batteries.

   Words like "organic" "vegan" and "free-range" were not in the common vocabulary, they were mainly used by fringe groups in LA or hippies. Hummus in the grocery store? Please, you were lucky if there was more than one kind of yogurt. 
      YouTube didn't exist, but your parents probably had one of these:

It was pretty neat, and you could make videos to show all your friends that had VCR's. Editing didn't exist though, so use with caution. You never know when you might record something embarrassing...

  "Viral" was actually a medical term, landlines were the only lines, you bought CD's, rented movies and asked for directions. 

   Oh yes, they were simpler times....

The End

I wanted a love that was tender and sweet,
you had a lover that left no room for me.
We tried to make the pieces meet,
we rounded sharp edges till our fingers bled

I miss the way our fingers curled,
together as we made plans we couldn't keep.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, never turned to today,
you lost the love I gave away
I loved you like the honey loves the bees,
like the flowers love the trees
In a million, thousand ways
I never knew how to say, or when

Mirror, mirror

The problem with comparing yourself to other people, is that you will almost always come up in the middle. The drug dealer that beats his wife says "at least I've never killed anyone", the girl volunteering at the homeless shelter knows she's no Mother Theresa.
   We all can find someone better than us at something-someone who is faster, smarter or stronger. When all we see are our shortcomings, we miss the big picture.

  To the girl who doesn't measure up-don't try to be Mother Theresa, you never will be. Even if you did every last thing just as she did, you would just be some person trying to be Mother Theresa.
    To the man trying to prove he's better than the "other guys"-stop trying to find someone worse than you and try to find who the best person you can be really is. Because in the end, the greatest thing we can do is not be better than someone else, but be the best version of ourselves.....

Last Call

   I wish, for a moment, that I smoked. I wish for right now, there were a pack of cigarettes in my pocket, so I could walk across the bar to ask for a light.
   Handlebar mustache, piercing eyes and a loud belt buckle, he stood. Just far enough away that I couldn't strike up a casual conversation, but close enough to see the outlines of his tattoo beneath his shirt.
  Eyes catching, I hold his glance for several moments before I look a way. I tell my self I'm going to strike up a conversation, borrow a cigarette I don't need. I imagine the worst he can say, even that better than wondering. One more deep breath, I gather my courage. Can I do this? I wish I had something to hold in my hands to make me look more important and less alone. I start to feel confident, I set my feet in a path towards him.
   A pretty girl walks up and I turn away. I can compete with my fears, but not my insecurity.

Everyone is entitled...to my own opinion

   Four more years. That is what is on every one's minds, lips and facebooks. Right, left or dissatisfied? No matter what side you are on, you can always find a trendy article to post on your timeline to show everyone how very educated and politically responsible you are.
   It's the time of year the gloves come off and we start insult our friends and family for their inability to grasp the truths that are so obvious to us, or their tired indifference. Instead of posting things about why our candidate represents what we believe, we undermine what others value "I can't believe people can watch this and still vote for Obama!!! Let's take America back people!" and "Mitt Romney is rich! All politicians should be poor!!"

   To all my friends on the left-I get it, you don't like corporations. I hate wal-mart too, but sometimes convenience really is worth it. All the food that is killing you isn't being shoved down your throat while a gun is pointed at your head. I'll tell you I'm all in favor of local and organic food, and while I'm not a fan of chemicals added to my everyday food, I think the preservatives added to my diet coke are less dangerous than living a hundred years ago before modern medicine.

...life expectancy rose dramatically in the United States over the past century. Final data for 2003 (the most recent available) show that life expectancy at birth for the total population has reached an all-time American high level, 77.5 years, up from 49.2 years at the turn of the 20th century

   The government and corporations aren't poisoning us, progress just comes at a price.

 

 

   To those on the right, especially the christian ones-I'm pretty sure the bible has a few things to say about honoring all authority, not just the ones you like (1 Peter 2:13-17). If you can't give your opinions in a way that is not disrespectful, please take the "christian" off of your "christian conservative" label.

  I myself vote for the GOP and align myself with their values and most policies. However, loudly voicing your distaste for the "welfare state" while gassing up your mini-van is a little obnoxious. Sending twenty dollars a month to a poor child in Africa is hardly charity when you think nothing of spending three times that amount on a haircut.

   Also, to the ones that scream "don't raise my taxes!!"-do you drive your car on a road that was paved by taxes? Go to a school funded by state and federal taxes? Check out material at a library? Spend time at the park? We are also in a war, by the way. Not all taxes are bad, and if you use it you should pay for it (King George was taking out stuff and taxing us, not the same thing).

   From where I stand, the problem is not in the politicians in Washington, but in ourselves. If we find it so difficult to find common ground with our friends and families, people we love and care about, why do we expect it from those we elect? We feel unrepresented as "the little people", when we are actually being represented exactly as we are.

    So go ahead, blame the right wing agenda and the liberal media for the problems in America, heap accusations on the president and corporations for everything wrong in country...because in a nation "for the people, by the people" it can be a little awkward to find the one to blame in the mirror.

  

 In the middle, I'm a conservative that cares about the poor, doesn't believe that every homeless person is a hopeless drug addict and opposes the death penalty. I believe that abortion is murder, states should be "Free and Independent" and that the government has overstepped it's bounds in a tragic way. 

  

 But mostly, I believe in this country, and I believe in these people.  

 

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. --That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed....

 

 

Love is a verb.

   God is Love. But not all love is of God.
The love of money.
The love of power.
   These loves are not of God. For love to be of God, it must be a true love, and it must be a love of something that is true.
   The free love revolution is not true, because Love is exclusive. You cannot Love many things. To say "I love humanity" is meaningless-love your neighbor, mow his lawn when he is sick, make him dinner when he is poor. To use the word without the action is a lie.
   "Like" is a word we scramble up and confuse for love. I like coffee, I like sunsets, I like barbeque. I have probably said that I love them-but I would never climb a mountain of thorns for them, give up all my physical possessions for them, or die for them.
I love my family.
I love my God.
In a way, I love my country.

God is Love, but God does not love everything.
God loves everyone.
God does not love murder.
God does not love the war that is in each man's soul.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 
It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

-St. Paul, First Letter to the Corinthians 

Regrets-those I have and those I have met.

Regret.                                  
People say a lot of dumb things about their regrets.
"I don't regret any of the things I have done, they have made me who I am today."
Really.
Because you are a MUCH better version of yourself with your ex-girlfriend's name tattooed I'm your back.
Whatever you say.
"All the mistakes I've made of taught me what not to do."
There is a point in time where this is no longer valid. If a 2 year-old sticks their finger in an electrical socket, they learn their lesson. If a 12 year-old does it, we wonder what is wrong with them. After awhile we are expected to understand the consequences of an action before we do it-not "learn our lesson" after the fact.
I'll admit it, I've kissed a lot of frogs and taken many a dangerous path. Some of them did lead me a valuable lesson that will help me in the future. Some if them though, were just mistakes that I wish I has never made, because of how they slowed me down, darkened my eyes and hurt the ones I love.
Think, before you act...and regret, because without it you would be condemned to always repeat your mistakes.

How sweet it is!

Home!
   Small word, big meaning. Sleeping in your own bed. Familiar voices in the morning, not needing your GPS to get to the store.
   It's the little things.
   Cliche, but true.
   Today, I was back with my family and in church, when I spotted the Dunkin Donuts cup. Now, I am a Starbucks woman myself, but at that moment I thought-"hey, coffee's coffee!" and took a sip.

 That might seem odd to you, that I would just grab a cup, not knowing whose it was, and drink it. Well, suffice it to say, my family doesn't have those boundaries. Besides, what are a few germs between sisters? (I was assuming one of my sisters had snuck it in). Apparently they had....a week or two ago.

Nooooo!

   Ah! How sweet it is......not.

Fort Sumter, SC

   The air in Charleston is heavy with the dreams of past generations, the streets still echoing with the sounds of a history slowly fading from its memory. 

   Near the battery, I can feel the heartache of hundreds of young lovers as they watched their men,  in shining buttons and steely grey prepare for war.

   Girls, barely old enough to know why, kissed boys with clean faces and fire in their eyes, not knowing they would come home with bitter tears on weathered cheeks-if they came home at all.

   The trumpets, the parades, the boasting! Rich and poor brought together by a common brotherhood, exchanged drinks and tall tales of southern strength and pride. 

   Fort Sumter, the place that changed the face of America-the painful choice of General Anderson, his inability to staunch the bloodlust that had begun to sweep both the north and the south. Proud men, full of honor, given to protect their homeland-separated by their definition, forced to take up arms against each other. 

   Streets that once rang with shouts and cheers lay silent in siege. A proud city, like its people, fell defeated. The glory of war was traded for the brutality of brothers bitterly opposed. The marching bands and pre-war balls gave way to dirges and empty seats. Boastful lips fell silent, as men struggled to adjust to life as cripples, missing so much more than an arm, a leg, an eye. The way of life that they had left would never return again, except in the imagination of those walking the streets today.

City girl, Country life

   Worms. Not just any worms, big fat nightcrawlers. So big you have to pinch them in half, getting their insides spurted on you before sliding them on the hook.
  Yup, I'm not in New Port Richey anymore. Still, standing yards away from a corn field watching the sun spill over the pond, line in hand, makes me feel a certain homey warmth.
   I am far from home, in south middle Tennessee-again, spending time with Kadee, my best friend. In one afternoon and two evenings we caught upwards of 45 little pan fish-mostly blue gill. However, there were two bass that we cleaned and cooked up!
  

  I might have a slight obsession with waterfalls. Once, I got lost in the backwoods of Alabama looking for one. This time, I didn't get lost! I even found a new friend-Josh Montgomery, a local writer and poet looking for inspiration in the falls.



Jacks Bar-B-Que

  Of course, the food. We stopped into Jack's Barbeque for some of the best ribs I've ever had-and I've had some ribs!


   It's crazy how facebook connects people. Here I am, in Tennessee, far from home and I meet up with some friends I haven't seen in ages! Downtown Nashville lit me up with bright lights, country music and a carriage ride (thanks to the Thomas family!). I even took a short line dance lesson at the Wild Horse Saloon.

With the Thomas sisters.

Good food and great times

I do not drive in the mountains. At least, Kadee does not allow me to at night....

We (Kadee) drove through the night and finally arrived in Denver, Colorado.  

We went to the Denver Zoo...



So good! Mine was pineapple, bleu cheese, barbeque sauce and gauc!



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then got burgers at the Cherry Cricket!

The next day, we took a trip to Boulder, Colorado-about a 40 minute drive. 

Went hiking

And then....

CASA BONITA!!!

     

There was a waterfall INSIDE the restaurant. Actually, the whole place was sort of a weird theme park-meets restaurant deal. 

Probably why it was featured on South Park....

CASA BONITA!!!!

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On a personal note

  
   Every once in awhile is it alright to curl up to a silly romance with some chocolate and cry over the ones that didn't make it? The lost loves, the ones you thought cared but in the end were able to erase you without blinking?