I apologize for this being a trifle late; my picture-posting skills are a little rusty. Nonetheless, there are still a few things I’d like to share. But before I go any further you can – if you choose – read this over at www.JoshuasTravels.com and that goes double for all the rest of my mass-emails.
The first semi-big deal: I am now gainfully employed by the Truman Admission’s department. I call up Prospectives and answer questions; spit game for TSU, stuff like that. My time is only worth five-an-hour, but I only work 8hr/wk and it’s a pretty fun job. I’ve talked to some cool people and had some interesting conversations, too. The coolest? Someone with the first name: Zed.
So I’ve always considered it an extreme irony that I spent five months seeing just about everything there is to see in Oz, but now I’m stuck in rural
My good buddy Paul Strauss grew up on a farm. And that’s exactly how I introduced my sister to him when she came out to visit me last year. While my cousin’s grew up on a
Paul, being the swell guy he is, offered me a place to stay for a night. So I took him up on it and spent my first night in Casa de Strauss. As soon as we walked in the door, Mama&Papa Paul greeted us warmly with open arms and the smell of rich home-cooking. We sat down to potatoes (grown in the garden), lima beans (grown in the garden), home-baked bread, jam made with strawberries (from the garden), applesauce (from trees I saw as I walked in), etc. It was tenfold tastier and no doubt healthier than any McMeal I could’ve had. Probably cheaper, too.
But the company was even better than the food. It brought back old feeling of Fenton dinners. Throughout high school, no matter our individual schedules, we four Fentons made concentrated attempts at sit-down eating and sharing and telling and caring. I’ve no doubt it was a very important element of my development. And the Strauss’s were kind enough to invite me into their fold and share with me. I would’ve been quite satisfied with spending the whole break there. Alas, I was up the next morning and on the road before I knew it. I bid a hardly-adequate thank you and took off.
While there are no pictures of my visit, I did stop here for a few hours time. I really liked L-ville and just about everything I saw reminded me of Leave It To Beaver. The city has good atmosphere.
What can I say about the Smokys? The Rockys are bigger but the way the vegetation creeps up around the Smokys, they’re just as beautiful – maybe even more so. Yet the skiing is better in
Driving and hiking around the Smokys, completely awed by nature, I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that this is the sort of environment Davy Crockett grew up in.
An interesting side note: I was wandering aimlessly around the visitor’s center when I overheard the accents of two New Zealanders. One thing led to another and I wound up giving them a lift 3 miles up the road, so they could do the hike they wanted to. I was going that way anyway and I wouldn’t really mention it except the absolute quirkiness of it all. Natives from what might-as-well-be-Australia, I was able to return one of the favors I was given so often in the Lucky Country.
I was also able to take some pictures in some interestingly-named cities: Fenton (a retail suburb of
I also made it to Rock City, which has a little precipice from which you can see 7 states at once (I must admit S. Carolina looked a whole awful lot like W. Virginia). I saw
subtle, really funny wisecracks.