All Things Pink in Honor of National Pink Day

Today is National Pink Day. There's no real reason for the holiday except as an occasion to celebrate that most beloved hue. I haven't gotten on the Marie Kondo "Joy Sparking" bandwagon but I do believe in things that make us happy and pink definitely never fails to make me smile. 

But I am a millennial (barely) and Millennial Pink is a thing,  so there's that. I combed through my photo archives and put together this round-up of a few that make me smile. 

Happy Pink Day y'all! 

1. Pink Lipstick & Pink He-Man Shirt (yes, this is me)

2. My Sweet Leon snoozing peacefully with his Pink little lips

3. My breathtakingly beautiful bridal bouquet with all my favorite shades of pink, peach and coral

4. Perfect pink peonies grown by my dad, transplanted from my great grandmother's garden

 

5. A sentiment we should consider from time to time (Como Si, Como No near Flagler Beach, Florida)

 

6. 60th Anniversary Cake for my grandparents' recent celebration

 

7. Love this combination of aqua and pink

 

8. My next bathroom will be pink

 9. Pink Shelling Beans, aka Shellies from the local farm stand

 10. A perfect pink flower at my favorite garden 

 

11. Art meets Fashion meets Fabulous at the Met for the Comme de Garcons Show 

 12. The Museum of Ice Cream

 

13. Fabulous raspberry creme brulee at District in Cleveland

 

14. View from the porch of my favorite Air BNB (I can't wait to go back)

 

15. More gorgeous blooms from my wedding...those carnations are the perfect shade of dusky pink. To. Die. For. 

 

16. Watermelon + Mint + Feta Salad

 

17. One more glorious peony for good measure

18. A fabulous mock-cocktail perfect for summer evenings (or you can also add champagne for more spirited fun)

 

19. Birthday flower arrangement from a dear friend

 20. Assorted Pink Macarons from Laduree NYC

21. Eudora Welty (by Katherine Sandoz)

 

22. Strawberry Congealed Salad, aka Pink Fluff

 

23. View of Sunrise from Ormond Beach where I spent summers as a child

24. Strawberry Butter made fresh from just picked strawberries, slathered on hot biscuits

25. Words of encouragement I needed to hear.

 

Drink it Up: Black Cow Ice Cream Floats

I grew up drinking Coke floats, but I recently heard this drink referred to as a "Black Cow" and I love the name. Maybe it's because I always loved the black and white cows that made their home in the pasture on my great-grandparents' farm.

Maybe it's because I had a beloved black and white dog who sort of reminded me of a cow.

Black Cows or Coke floats (or ice cream sodas) are pretty much some of the easiest drinks you can make. There's just nothing to it.

Take a few scoops of your favorite ice cream and put it in a tall glass. Pour some Coca-Cola (or another type of Coke) over it. Voila!

There's something about this drink that's just perfect for summer. The days are long and hot and here in the sweet south, we need something to help us get through it.

As a kid we'd sometimes get Slush Puppies or Frozen Cokes from the local K-Mart. These always felt like such a treat. I can't remember making ice cream floats all that often, but it was definitely something I looked forward to the few times we did.

Growing up, ice cream was something we only had on special occasions. We always had either Mayfield, made right in Tennessee with its headquarters in Athens, or Purity, made in Nashville.

These days I enjoy Cruze Farm ice cream, which is available in local stores around East Tennessee as well as at their summer pop-up shop on Gay Street in Downtown Knoxville.

June 20th is National Ice Cream Float day...but there's no reason you can't celebrate any old time you please.

 

Why People are Friendlier in Small Towns

I just read the most interesting op-ed from the LA Times. It posed the idea that the rudeness we have come to expect from people in our everyday interactions has to do with the fact that our societies have gotten too big. Apparently there is science behind the thought that as we live in larger and larger communities where we don't really know each other, our civility decreases.

What interested me most about this is that it pretty much applies scientific thinking to what most of us in the south have always known....folks in smaller communities are friendly.

I'm not saying this only applies to the south, but that's my point of reference (not to mention the focus of this blog). And there are absolutely some terribly rude southerners (just as there are rude people everywhere). But friendliness in small southern towns is just not an anomaly.

According to the LA Times article, people in smaller communities are friendlier because their reputation depends on it. When you feel known and respected in your community, you're more likely to behave better towards people. And alternately, I guess being surrounded by strangers means you don't care as much about protecting your reputation.

Growing up in the small town of Cookeville, Tennessee, being surrounded by strangers was a foreign concept for me. It's not like it was Mayberry or anything, but I just can't remember a time of venturing out and not running into someone who knew me or my family.

Even now when I go back to visit (after living in Knoxville for nearly 14 years!), I always see a familiar face. Maybe it's my preschool teacher or someone my mom used to work with, or somebody I went to church with growing up or maybe a member of my own family. I like to think I would try not to be rude no matter where I am, but the idea of displaying that type of behavior in front of someone who has known me all my life gives me a bad feeling (thus demonstrating that the science mentioned in the article is true for me).

One of my life's mottos (as coined by my dad who said this to us while we were growing up) is "Remember who you are and where you come from." I'm not just one person out there in the world, but in lots of ways I'm the product of the lives lived by the people who came before me. My grandparents, while far from perfect, stood for things that were honest, good and true. And they tried to instill that in my parents who wanted the same for me.

Ultimately, the biggest takeaway I get from articles like this is the importance of community. For awhile my community in Knoxville centered on my college experience. It was sort of a ready-made community with lots of avenues to be involved and connected. After college, I went through a pretty long period of feeling disconnected because most of the friends I had made moved away and I stayed. I had to work really hard to meet people and find new ways to connect and create community. And it's probably just been the last two or three years where I have really felt more plugged in.

It doesn't matter where we go or who we encounter (whether strangers or family), we still have an opportunity to impact the world for good. And it might be something as simple as holding the door for someone.

Maybe you've gone through a transition in life and feel disconnected. I hope that's not the case, but if it is, I want to encourage you. You are not alone. There are other people out there who want to hear your stories, and will laugh at your jokes. Don't spend another day believing the lie of alone.

As we each realize our value (to God, to each other, to our communities), rudeness becomes less of an issue because we are free to love each other instead. And I believe that can happen in communities of every size. But I'm always going to be grateful I grew up in small town. I've been lucky to travel all over the world, but I always love going back home. There's something about being known that gives a kind of comfort anonymity can't hold a candle to.

Granny Betty's 32-Layer Chocolate Cake

I love cake. And family recipes. So when I had the opportunity to try something called "Granny Betty's 32-Layer Chocolate Cake" recently, I didn't pass it up.

My family went on our annual beach trip last week. Driving from Tennessee to Florida, we usually head down I-75 and drive smack through the middle of Georgia. This trip, we took I-16 toward Savannah so we could detour for a bit in Jekyll Island.

But somewhere along the way, we got hungry and decided to pull off for a bite to eat. The spot we chose was called Bay South Restaurant. It looked like a sweet little local meat & 3 and the food did not disappoint.

But the highlight of the experience was dessert. Our server recommended the chocolate cake. Her grandmother (Granny Betty) makes the cake for the restaurant.

Did I mention it had 32 layers?

I didn't get the recipe, but it was similar in taste to a fried chocolate pie. We were told that Granny Betty cooks each paper-thin layer in a small skillet...hence the fried pie taste. Then between each of the 32 layers, there was a little bit of chocolate...sort of like chocolate pie filling. We scarfed it down.

The patience it must take to make 32 layers one by one and then construct such a confection astounds me. The world needs more people like this magical Granny Betty. I'm certain of it.

Only in the south: Re-Arrangement

Y'all know I love a bargain. I've even bragged about how my family visits thrift stores in nearly ever city where we've ever vacationed. Sometimes, these thrifting adventures yield wonderful treasures. Other times, they leave me shaking my head.

A recent visit to a Habitat for Humanity Re:Store was a head shaker when I saw this faux floral arrangement a' la compact disc extravaganza.

I am generally opposed to fake flowers because they always look...fake. And unlike real flowers which die and go back to the earth, unwanted fake flowers just get dusty and end up relegated to the shelves and bins of thrift stores everywhere.

But not at this particular thrift store. Someone from the staff (or possibly a volunteer) had taken all the fake flowers in stock and re-purposed them into arrangements. This one isn't even terrible (minus the CDs) but seriously?

This could happen only in the south where, for some reason, we hold out hope that we can take unwanted things, and shine them up or re-arrange them in some way that might make them seem more desirable. It's not even a bad way to look at life, but in the case of these flowers and CDs, I just don't know if there's any hope.

I featured another find from this same thrift shop on the blog a few years ago...that time it was floral guitar-art or guitart as I called it. I really want to meet the people who come up with this stuff. They are the un-sung heroes of my "Only in the south" posts.

Only in the South: Squirrel on Wood

Growing up in the south, I have had some hunters and fishermen in my family. My great-grandpa had a large mouth bass mounted on a board over a doorway at his house and I used to stand under it looking up and wonder what its life must have been like before its present state. 

I've seen deer heads, moose heads, wild boar heads and even the occasional taxidermied jackalope. But this weekend, at a local antique shop, I saw something I'd never seen before in the form of a stuffed and mounted squirrel. 

Really? A squirrel? To quote Carrie Bradshaw, it's just a rat with a cuter outfit. I didn't even know you could stuff squirrels (to which my southern beau replied "oh yeah, you can stuff anything so long as you can find the right sized eyes"). 

All I can say is only in the south. And what's more is the price. $49! I kid you not. I have several pairs of shoes that didn't cost $49. We got our 15-year old Yorkshire Terrier for free and he's ALIVE (for now). Is someone really going to buy this bizarre artifact for $49? 

It makes me wonder if this is some sort of special squirrel. Perhaps his ancestors survived Sherman's burning of Atlanta. 

Can anyone help me make sense of this madness? 

Only In the South: Holiday Light Show Extravaganza

There's a house near where the southern beau lives that goes ALL OUT for Christmas. It's not just decorated to the hilt...there's a light show. Set. To. Music. The folks must have their own radio frequency because there's a big sign nailed to a telephone pole in their yard that tells you what station to tune in to. Then you just sit back and take it all in. The above video gives a small glimpse. I'm sure the neighbors hate it. We keep going back year after year! All I can say about this is only in the south! 

Only in the south: The Sassy Buck

While traveling to my hometown recently, I made a little stopover on the way and stumbled into a cute ladies shop called The Sassy Buck. All I can say is....only in the south! I've never been a hunter (a huntress?) so I can't say that this particular style appeals to me, but I appreciate that many lovely southern ladies do enjoy this pastime. 

Do you fancy yourself a sassy buck? Oh wait...wouldn't it be a sassy doe? I guess that doesn't have quite the same ring to it. 

Only in the south: Moonshine Fudge

I picked up a container of moonshine flavored fudge at a local craft fair for a steal. If you’re wondering why it’s pink, it’s because in addition to having that little kick from the white lightning, it’s also flavored with cherries. The taste wasn’t terrible, but you can probably guess it wasn’t exactly great, based on how little has been eaten.

Are you a fan of spirited sweets? I think I’ll keep my fudge to the peanut butter variety from now on. For those of you who wish to make your own moonshine fudge, I’m still trying to locate a recipe.

Happy Monday!

Only in the south: 10 Bucks for a Buck

While visiting my parents recently, my mom and I stopped in at one of her favorite hang-outs: the local Goodwill. We’ve been shopping at Goodwill (or as we sometimes refer to it, GW Boutique) for as long as I can remember. I'm not opposed to retail shopping, but I prefer thrifting. When I do shop retail, it's usually because I've scored some amazing coupons to help save money. Before my hometown got a Goodwill store of its own, we’d make regular treks to the next closest location, about 50 miles down the road.

Some people travel to sightsee or gain cultural experiences. My family travels for thrift shops. You’ve heard of people will innate extrasensory perception? I believe my family has that for thrift shops, junk stores, estate sales and flea markets. My mom even sniffed out a Goodwill while we were in the quaint hamlet of Franklin, Tennessee recently. Yes, we stopped. It was $.99 day, after all.

When I saw the lovely latch hook rug (pictured above), I couldn’t help but share it here on the old blog. Latch hook is one of the under-appreciated crafts, I think…based on the amount of time and effort that goes into creating them. I tried doing one as a gift for a friend years ago and never actually finished it (sorry Rach).

The deer one above probably took many hours to complete and I’m sure someone loved him very much. Hopefully he won’t have to live at GW for very long before another proud owner takes him home.

Have you found any thrifty treasures lately? Do tell!

Only in the south: What a Hoot

I love thrift stores for all the possible treasures they hold, but I also love thrift stores for the grade-A crazy they have to offer. I actually really love some of the items shown here, just maybe not all together.

Owl enthusiasts of the world have finally found a source for every obscure incarnation of owl paraphernalia imaginable.

From friendly to silly, scholarly to cute, angry to just plain frightening, this booth (lovingly called ‘Hooterville’) at a local thrift/antique/vintage shop is an owl lover’s paradise.

All I can do is shake my head and all I can say is “only in the south.”

Are you a hootie aficionado? If so, you need to run, don’t walk, to Knoxville where these nocturnal predators patiently await being added to your collection.  

Only in the south: Family Reunions at McDonalds & My Grandpa Wears Girl Pants

I’m not even sure where to begin with this story, but it is awesome in every way. Well the beginning of the story isn’t so awesome because it started two Thursdays ago with my grandparents getting into a serious car accident. They survived, but it was pretty miraculous. I haven’t really wanted to share about the accident yet here on the blog, but they are doing better each day and prayers are appreciated.

This weekend (after Blissdom) I was able to spend some time with my Me-me, who was still in a Nashville hospital with injuries from the accident. On our way back to my hometown, my mom and I stopped off the interstate at a McDonald’s and who did we run into but another carload of our family, including my Pe-pa headed to Nashville to see my Me-me.

I thought this was hilarious because what are the odds? Of all the exits and all the choices, only my southern family would have a unintentional surprise reunion at McDonald’s. After visiting with them a few minutes, my mom and I were headed out when my Pe-pa came and tapped on the car window. He said he wasn’t sure where the blue jeans he was wearing had come from but they were really comfortable. My mom asked him what size they were, thinking maybe they were larger and roomier than what he normally wore. He said they were a size “17.” My mom and I looked at each other. “Like a girl’s juniors size 17?” I asked him. He said someone had told him they might be girl’s but he didn’t care because they were so comfy.

As he walked away, we noticed they were flared, but I suppose we should just be thankful they didn’t have butterflies on the pockets. My Me-me needs to get well soon and come home from the hospital because if my Pe-pa and uncles are left to their own devices for too much longer, there’s no telling what could happen. 

{Disclaimer: My Pe-pa, who happens to be a devoted reader of this blog, is awesome. He could wear a paper bag or a tutu and I’d still think he were the greatest. Any kidding is done from a place of love.}

Only in the South: Toilet Love

If you were shocked to see a toilet (yes, it’s mine) on the ol’ blog today…hang on to your socks. There is a reason for this post and it has nothing to do with anything gross. This picture might not look like very much to you. It’s just your average bathroom commode. But when I came home from work last night and saw it, I almost swooned and promptly took a picture.

You see…a couple (ok, three) years ago, yours truly was doing some routine plumbing adjustments to the toilet tank when the ceramic tank lid slipped from my hands and broke into 78 pieces on the bathroom floor. This was not my finest moment. For whatever reason, hardware stores don’t sell just the tank lid….you have to buy a whole new toilet. But my toilet was fine and I couldn’t justify spending the money on a new one while the current one worked ok (minus the tank lid).

So I lived without the lid for all this time, mostly having gotten used to it, but also secretly hating the whole bathroom situation. My dad kindly offered to buy me a new toilet for Christmas, but, not wishing to see one under the tree on Dec. 25, I declined his offer.

Sunday afternoon, I had a small crying jag in which I moaned to my beau about all the unfinished projects around my house, including the toilet minus a tank lid which “embarrassed me to the point that I can’t have people over and have taken to compulsive clothes shopping to soothe myself.” {drama, I tell you}

My southern beau, who didn’t realize this was such a tragic issue for me, calmly said he’d be happy to visit a salvage shop where he was sure he could find me a replacement. I didn’t think he’d be able to find one, but lo and behold, one trip to the salvage store, $5 and 1 canister of Lysol disinfectant wipes later, I have a toilet tank lid that could pass for the original. {If you’re wondering why it took us 3 years to figure out this was such an easy fix, I have no answer for you. I, too, am wondering this.}

So yes, I love my toilet. Only in the south would a girl get so worked up over something like a toilet and only a southern beau like mine could save the day with such quiet bravado. If only he’d waited a couple of weeks to present me with the lid…it could have gone down in history as the best/worst Valentine’s Day gift ever. 

Only in the South: Cheap Tail

Every year one of my dear friends and I get together on Christmas Eve morning for a little breakfast, shopping and catching up. We usually make the rounds among a few antique stores in his quaint southern hometown and this year was no exception. We saw lots of great deals and I had to resist the urge to buy up some ironstone pieces I really liked. However, there was one item for sale I did not feel any urge to buy.

Only in the south would a little bundle of tails be nestled in with the antique potato mashers and egg beaters, just hanging on a peg. I’m not sure if the price tag referred to only one tail in the bunch or the if the whole lot of them would have been $2.50.

Perhaps someone more knowledgeable of the going price for tails can advise us as to whether or not this was a good deal.

Part of me really wanted to buy this and secretly tuck it in the stocking of an unsuspecting family member, but because I don’t love touching parts that have been removed from animals I can’t identify, I left it hanging there on its peg.

So what do y’all think?

{Disclaimer: The owner of this blog loves all animals and neither participates in nor condones animal cruelty, including but not limited to tail removal.}

Only in the South: All-you-can-eat Breakfast with the Holy Family

My “Only in the South” posts are usually a bit humorous (or at least I intend for them to be), poking a bit of loving fun at the traditions and culture of my sweet south. This post is different. In a season that can so easily get derailed by the commercial aspects or stress of having to make everything just so, I’m glad there are places where the true meaning of Christmas is known and celebrated.

And only in the south is one of those places a Shoney’s All American Diner. There is one particular Shoney’s location in my town that is always decked out for each holiday. Maybe saying it’s decked out doesn’t convey the degree of décor I’m talking about, but just picture hundreds of giant snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, 8 ft Christmas trees in every room and a mural with polar bears frolicking in the snow.

All these things are nice and festive, but the life-size nativity is what really caught my attention. In a time when everyone seems so afraid of offending people or Heaven forbid, saying Merry Christmas to someone who might not believe in Christmas….I’m really happy that I could enjoy my bacon and eggs while the reason for the season is illustrated in the next room.

Hope you are having a great week! And if you’re ever in East Tennessee, visit the Shoney’s on Western Avenue….I guarantee whatever the time of year, it’s a feast for the eyes.

Only in the south: A grocery gig

There’s a little grocery store in my hometown that is known (and loved) for things other than fresh produce. I popped in over the holiday break to capture a bit of the magic because I wanted to share it here with you. In several spots throughout the store, lively animatronic vignettes reside…just waiting for the push of a button to come to life. These banjo playing bears are tucked neatly in the corner at the end of an aisle of canned drinks.

This musical trio looks like they might have been formerly employed at the popular kids restaurant, Showbiz Pizza (now Chuck E. Cheese) by way of Dollywood. I’m really not sure where they came from, but they are quite a treat to behold. Down the aisle and around the corner live two spunky hens, Heather & Haylee. They are also a pair of charmers, ready to perform on the spot and push their products to anyone who will listen.

As I was filming this clip, I noticed a middle-aged guy standing nearby, watching intently. When the hens were finished, he turned to me and said that he’d been shopping at the store for ages and yet had failed to notice these extra special touches. I explained to him that I write a blog about the south and since this was such a neat slice of life in this area, I wanted to include it. I also told him that my grandpa had been a meat-cutter for many years and had connections to the market. Of course he wanted to know my grandpa’s name and I wasn’t surprised to find out that he knew him, plus he had attended grade school with my uncle and his parents were close with my great-grandparents. And all because I had filmed some chickens in a grocery store.

I thanked him for saying such sweet things about my family and as I was walking away he shook his head, chuckled and replied “only in the south.”

Hope you have a foot stomping-good weekend!

Only in the south: Small town laughs

I hope everyone had a fabulous Thanksgiving and that you were able to spend some time doing something you enjoy (eating!). I wanted to take a break from the traditional holiday content and share a story that I found hilarious. I'm not sure if this falls under the "only in the south" category or maybe just "only in a small town," but either way, it cracked me up.

I spent several days in my hometown for the long weekend and each time I return there, I am reminded of all the sweet and simple things that are afforded by small town living. On the flip-side, I am also reminded of how life in a fishbowl has its pitfalls too. Early Friday morning the phone rang at my parents' house and I heard my mom having this conversation. "Well, I'm not really sure what kind of cologne he wears....I think Polo?" Then a pause..."Oh so you want to know exactly? Ok, hang on. Let me go look in the bathroom closet." Footsteps down the hall. "Yes, it's Polo, Double Black. In a black bottle. Yes, Double Black. Oh, ok well you can tell her that."

The person on the other end of the phone was my aunt. Apparently, her good friend works at the dry cleaners where my dad has always taken his shirts to be cleaned. The friend said that his shirts smell so good when they get dropped off that she just had to know what kind of cologne he wore so she could buy some for her husband.

I'm not sure what I find funnier about all of this. The fact that someone smells my dad's dirty shirts or the fact that she was curious enough to ask about it, but tasked my aunt with the job of inquiring. Maybe the thing we should be most concerned about is the fact that my dad is spraying so much cologne on his shirts. But only in a small town in the south would this scenario play out. I bought him the cologne for his birthday so I guess I should feel good that it is such a hit with the ladies. Who thinks I should contact Polo's advertising department and tell them I just found their new ad strategy?

Happy Monday!