I received a phone call last night from an old friend. I have not heard from her in maybe twenty years or longer.

I was sitting at the computer when the phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and noticed it was an out of state area code. I don't usually answer the phone unless I know who is calling, but when I heard her start to leave a message, I knew it was someone I knew from the past because when she said, "Janice" (pronounced JaNiece) I knew it was close family or friends. Not many people know how my real name is pronounced. "This is Faye," she continued. I grabbed that phone so quick it would have made your head spin.

Her name is Faye Walker Davis. She is now seventy four years old and lives in a senior citizen home in Mckinney, Texas. Faye and I grew up in this little community of West Pratt that I still call home. She married young and moved to Carbon Hill, Al. where she and her husband, Clarence, raised their two sons, Wesley and Steve. After her husband's death, her son moved her to California to be near him. Later when he was transferred to Texas he moved her once again to be near him. What a kind and considerate son she has, indeed!

The years melted away as the two of us reminicsed about our childhood. We talked about how we used to play playhouse in the open field, overgrown with sage grass, between her Mama and Papa's house and my grandparent's house. We beat down the sage grass, which was almost as tall as we were at that time, and made rooms for our houses. We whiled away many of a summer's evening in those playhouses.

She remembered staying with my Grandmother Hicks, whom she fondly called Grandma Hicks, at night. She stayed because Grandma Hicks didn't like to stay by herself. She talked about my other grandparents, Grandma and Grandpa Nails. I know she didn't call my grandmother Grandma Nails at that time because my grandmother would have been mad as a hornet at her and probably would have decked her one. She hated the term Grandma and would never allow anyone to call her that. She taught her own grandchildren to call her MaMa, never grandma or granny.

Faye talked about my uncles, Luther and Charlie and how much she thought of them. She was at my grandmother's house when Luther was returned home in a coffin after World War II was over. She remembered, with great admiration, my Uncle Charlie and how terrified of storms he was.

One day Faye fell and broke her arm. She was home alone that day, so she ran through the field to my grandparents house for help. My Daddy and Momma was there, so they took her to our very own hometown doctor, Dr. R.W. Baker. Dr. Baker was away on a housecall so Daddy and Momma returned to my grandmother's house with Faye. They put her to bed and watched after her until her Momma and Poppa got home late that evening.

Oh, how wonderful it is to revisit childhood memories when you have an old friend to revisit with you. It is like entering a time capsule.

She is planning a visit home next summer and I am looking forward to it. We plan to spend at least two days together. No telling what memories us two old "girls" might come up with. I am going to have a tape recorder and plenty of batteries plus a vast supply of pencils and paper handy.

Precious memories, how they flood my soul.

Finally we three travellers were headed home, tired but happy. Happy that we had a chance to get away and enjoy one of our favorite places for a little while.

We headed west through Wear's Valley. We giggled and laughed about Amber and me putting our hands in the bird doo doo. We discussed what our favorite activities were on our trip. We stopped for gas in Townsend before heading on toward I 75 and home.

We reached Chattanooga about one o'clock. We were hungry, tired and needed to go to the bathroom. I told the munchkins we would stop for lunch in Trenton, Georgia.

We rolled into Trenton and quickly located a place to eat. Subway seemed to be the perfect place. It was packed out. We barely found a place to park. We stood in line for what seemed like an hour. As soon as I gave my order I told the kids to find a table while I headed to the bathroom. Wouldn't you know it? The bathrooms were full! Another line to stand in! Standing in front of the bathroom door was a little teeny bopper texting away on her cell phone.

I went back to the table to eat my sandwich, knowing how uncomfortable I would be without using the bathroom. As soon as I took the last bite I headed back to the bathroom. JOY JOY, they were empty. The door was standing wide open, so I ran right in. Something wasn't quite right, though. For instance, the seat was up. I was to miserable to care and furthermore I didn't have time to wait any longer. About the time I sat down someone knocked on the door. "Just a minute," I yelled. I hurried and washed my hands and opened the door. Standing there was this big burly man staring back at me. I looked up at the door only to see the word "MEN." I don't know which one of us was the most surprised, me or him. He was stifling a giggle as I sheepishly ducked my head. "You better not tell a soul what I've just done," I said. "I won't," he replied.

I was so embarrassed! I just knew everyone in that restaurant had seen me. When I got back to the table I told Jacob what I had done. He said, "You mean that was you in there?" He had gone to the bathroom and found it occupied, not knowing it was his grandmother in there. I laughed and asked him why he hadn't gone in the ladies room?

I'll bet everyone in and around Trenton, Georgia knew about my mistake before I got out of the county. The Bible says "laughter doeth good like a medicine." If that is true, and I believe it to be, there are some healthy people in NW Georgia!

The Applewood Farmhouse Restaurant. It is at the top of my favorite restaurants' list. It is located in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. On my recent visit to Pigeon Forge with Jacob and Amber, this restaurant was a must for at least one of our meals. The week had gone by rather quickly and we had not made it there to eat. The morning we were to come home, I thought, it is now or never. We quickly decided to eat breakfast there. I told the kids how good the food was and they were excited about eating there.

In the past, although I had eaten there many times with Julius, I had had only one bad experience with the food. Everything they serve has apples in it. This particular time, the hostess had seated us and I sat back in the chair, Julius sitting across the table from me, when the waitress appeared with a basket full of apple fritters, all fresh and hot from the kitchen. She served us complimentary drinks, containing apple and pineapple juice, of course. While we were waiting on our food to arrive, I pigged out on the apple fritters dipped in fresh apple butter, and the complimentry juices. OH LORD, did I get sick. Too much of a good thing, of course. My fault entirely, but it was worth every bit of the upset stomach and everything else that followed that day.

With all that in mind, I warned the kids to limit their intake of the fritters until we ate breakfast. They were quite agreeable, so we set out down the road to the restaurant, our packed bags in the trunk of the car. We faught the traffic all the way through Pigeon Forge and turned down the road to the restaurant. The apple trees that lined the road leading to the Applewood added to the atmosphere and gave the three of us a feeling of expectancy and excitement, anticipating the wonderful meal we were about to partake of.

A lot of other people had the same idea as we did. The place was packed. Jacob wanted to make pictures of us in front of the restaurant before we ate. OK by me, I told him.


Gan Gan and Amber Applewood Farmhouse Restaurant
Pigeon Forge, Tennessee

I jumped behind the sign, Amber following close behind me, and told Jacob to make our picture there. We placed our hands on the top of the sign and posed, just like Jacob told us to. Aren't we smiling and looking pretty? As soon as the camera clicked we lifted our hands from the sign and felt something wet and ickky on our hands. OH NO!! It was bird DO DO!! Smeared all over the palms of both of mine and Amber's hands!!!

We made a mad dash for the first bathroom we came to and started scrubbing. With hot water and lots and lots of soap. We washed our hands so many times we must have used a roll of paper towels. I thought about asking them if they had a pair of rubber gloves I could use while I ate my food. Mind you, there was a lot of snickering and giggling going on by the three of us, while we sat in that packed out dining room, amongst that huge crowd of people. I bet none of them had posed behind that sign!!

We were late leaving town that day, headed for home. It took around two hours at the restaurant. We spent fifteen minutes making pictures, forty five minutes eating our food and an hour for Amber and me to wash and scrub our hands! What an experience.

The next time I am in Pigeon Forge, I will return to the Applewood because I love the food. I just won't pose behind that sign for pictures. I WILL NOT pig out on apple fritters on an empty stomach, either.

Who knows what other surprises may await me when I return. OH ME!! OH MY!!!

It has been two weeks since I have posted on this blog. A lot of water has gone under the bridge since then. I can promise you, I am ready to get started again.

Last post I told you about my latest cleaning spree and the rat that got in my bathtub. I am happy to report the rat is gone but I am still in the middle of my cleaning spree. I was in the middle of cleaning out all my kitchen cabinets and washing all my pots and pans, when Sherry started hemorraging and was taken to the ER. She was admitted to the hospital and had emergency surgery later on that night. I had just placed all the pots and pans in the middle of the kitchen floor and was hard at work washing the shelves beneath the stove when Mike called about Sherry. I went to the hospital and the pots and pans sat in that same spot for over a week. Talk about a mess!!

I am glad to report that all the pots and pans are now washed and put away and the shelves have all been cleaned. I have only to clean the outside of the cabinets and my kitchen will be spic and span.

Sherry is almost ready to be discharged from the hospital and hopefully will finish recuperating at home. It has been a long journey for her but it is almost over now and she will be well at last and home with her kids. Thank God for his goodness to us.

I have not seen a glimpse of that nasty little varmint since he ran back into my house that night. I think maybe I got the message across to him that he is not welcome in my house.

Anyway, God is good and everything is getting back to normal. That is music to my ears.

I am tired tonight. I have started a major cleanup projest around the house. I started this afternoon, after work, in the kitchen. How in the world can a house collect so much junk? I found things in the cabinets I had completely forgotten. Some I never remembered at all and some I remembered but don't know how long they have been hiding in there.

All of this cleaning came about because a rat got in my bathtub. I despise the little varmints. They should know by now they are not welcome in my house.

I was awakeded last night from a deep sleep by a noise that sounded like someone cutting wires outside my bedroom window. My first inclination was to cover up my head and hope it would go away.

Well, it didn't. I was frightened. Someone had told me a man, wearing black clothing, had been seen walking around our neighborhood late at night on more than one occasion. Of course that was the first thing that popped into my mind.

The noise didn't go away so I got up and looked out the window. The moon was shining bright. Didn't see anything or anyone on the front. By then the noise had stopped. I went back to bed hoping whatever it was was gone. Just as I got stretched out good and started to doze off, it began again, only louder. I jumped to my feet, determined I ws going to find out what it was this time.

I walked toward the bathroom and flipped on the light. There in my bathtub was the ugliest little varmint I had seen in a very long time. He looked at me with his beady little eyes and went into hysterics trying to climb out of the tub. The noise was him trying to escape by jumping on the side of the tub and sliding back down.

I found a glue trap left over from the last time a rodent invaded my house and placed it in the tub with him. I knew it was just a matter of time til he got stuck in it. My plan was to go back to bed and get some sleep and throw him out in the morning.

PLAN DIDN'T WORK! He got stuck in the trap right away, but he kept dragging it around the tub making more noise than before. I got a paper bag to put him and the glue trap in, so I wouldn't have to touch him. He was having some kind of fit flouncing around trying to get loose. Now to find something to rake him into the bag with. All I could find, in a hurry, was an old tooth brush.

It was hard trying to get him into the bag. Finally after several attempts I headed him and the trap into the bag. Then the trap stuck on the side of the bag and wouldn't go any further. I carefully lifted the bag up and started for the back door. I was going to tie the bag and throw it, rat and all, in the back yard and dispose of it come morning.

About that time that pesty thing went into a "conniption" fit for sure. He was flouncing around, rattling the bag. By then I was in a trot for the back door. Just as I started out the door he got loose, fell to the floor and instead of running outside, he turned and went back in the house.

I spent nearly two hours with that rat and he still got away. That means he may return tonight. Just in case he hasn't learned his lesson, I am waiting on him with another glue trap loaded with cheese. He won't get away this time.

I said all that to explain my cleaning spree. Well, something had to motivate me. BUT, DID IT HAVE TO BE THAT NASTY THING?