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A sunny, blue-sky day with billowy clouds, a lazy river, and a group of friends where nobody was in a rush to be anywhere else, all made for the perfect summer afternoon. Although I’ve been canoeing and white-water rafting a couple times previously, I’d been wanting to experience kayaking down one of our Middle Tennessee rivers. Last year plans to go had fallen through twice, once because the water was too high, and once because it was too low. But last month, all the conditions lined up for a picturesque day of floating and boating.

A group of about 15 of us, consisting of old friends and new, of novices and of seasoned kayakers, set out to traverse a few miles of The Harpeth River. I opted for a single kayak, although somewhat questioning the adequacy of my upper body strength to complete the journey without a second set of arms for back up! But I was pleasantly surprised by the gentle current that carried us all along with surprisingly little effort on our part other than minimal steering or the occasional stopping to dock on a rocky beach. The intermittent stops allowed time to reapply sunscreen, and to grab a snack or a cold drink while catching up and chatting with others in the group who may have been keeping a slower or faster pace in the water.

There are several canoe rental places out I-40W, but we used Foggy Bottom and they were great. $29 provides the kayak rental with life jacket and paddle, and a ride to the drop-in site (and then you end up docking in by your cars at the end of the trek). Honestly it’s easily $29 of the best-spent dollars of my summer! (Canoe rates range from $36-$39 depending on the length of the trip chosen). Wait for a beautiful day, and spontaneously call a friend or a few, and enjoy an ideal way to be in the great Tennessee outdoors. A mini-cooler with your favorite beverages is a must (it can be easily strapped in the back of your kayak, making for easy accessibility while lazily floating). Grab something to munch on too, your SPF of choice, water-proof speakers if you have them for listening to your favorite tunes, and a towel for the ride home, and you’re quickly and easily out your door and ready to go!

There are those I’m sure who prefer the thrill of navigating through rapids on a raft, but for me, the peaceful ride down the Harpeth was the perfect balance of time to be reflective while surrounded by the beauty of nature, and of fun time with friends, all genuinely happy to be outside and active. And if you’ve managed to work up an appetite after you’re done, take a short 8 mile drive down Highway 70 to a local favorite, Carl’s Perfect Pig Barbeque & Grill–the food is delicious and the hospitality is refreshingly Southern. 🙂

Melanie wasn’t always homeless. She lived with her feeble grandmother across the street from the upstairs apartment I rented in the Glencliff neighborhood. I first met her when she walked up my gravel driveway to introduce herself. She was heavy-set, with a somewhat disheveled and impoverished appearance, but had a kindhearted manner to her. After a short, somewhat socially-awkward introduction, she promptly asked me for money to supposedly buy her grandmother’s prescription medication. I offered to go buy it at the pharmacy as opposed to giving her the money, but she fumbled through reasons to decline that offer; and since I was rushing off somewhere anyways, I handed over some cash. I felt upset with myself later for giving in to a scam—afraid I’d set a precedent for future asking and for potentially difficult refusals. That was indeed the first in a long line of Melanie-encounters, most of which involved a request for money, but little did I know that she would also become a friend to me over the next 6 years to come.

I’d often see her out in their front yard when I went for my morning or afternoon walks and would stop and talk. She had 3 daughters that were each in foster care and were the delight of Melanie’s life. Her face lit up as she would talk about them and she always asked me to pray for them. She would also drop by at my apartment from time to time, and although I had to ask her not to knock on my door at late or early hours, it still managed to make me jump each time I heard the tap, tap on my glass door regardless of the hour. (I lived at the top of a rusty flight of stairs along the side of the brick home—not a door that salesmen or Jehovah’s Witnesses would even notice to come to. So although I presumed it was Melanie each time, I still startled easily living alone). On her birthday that first year, I left her cupcakes and a card on her front porch and her genuine joy from that simple gesture was almost childlike.

Then her grandmother passed away and Melanie’s grief was palpable. It seemed her grandmother was the one family member who hadn’t given up on loving her. Melanie lost someone she dearly loved, but even more tragically it seemed, she lost the one person who loved her back. After the estate was settled, and the house sold, Melanie found herself with no place to live. Her only possessions seemed to be a few clothes, photos of her girls, and a cherished locket necklace with her grandmother’s ashes in it. She had told me stories of being estranged from her mom and siblings and other relatives. It seemed a hard past with abuse and mental illness had left her with a loving heart, but with an inability to hold a job or to make wise decisions that would get her ahead in life. Her visits to my house increased in frequency and needs after finding herself without a home. But she always came with a smile and a naturally grateful attitude for any small amount of dollars, food or coffee given. Sometimes I would say no—I had no cash or it seemed too close to the last time I’d given her some; and she always graciously accepted no too. She might try to push if she really felt she needed it, but she ultimately accepted no with a smile as she walked away. She once told me she thought she was pregnant and asked if I’d be willing to take the baby, knowing that the State wouldn’t let her keep it. I told her that was a big decision and we should both pray about it, but the pregnancy apparently ended up being a false alarm.

The next few years Melanie was in and out of shelters, or occasionally rented a room for a few dollars a night, or slept on the streets. She had a car a couple of times that she slept in, but was unable to afford the maintenance and upkeep for them; and one got infested with bedbugs, leaving her sun-scorched skin covered with infected bites. She had medical insurance that covered her when she got sick, or if she got off balance with her psychiatric meds. She had a case manager that was trying to help her get into permanent housing. But the odds just seemed stacked against this poor soul. (I had moved to a different neighborhood by that point and chose not to give her my new address; and bless her sweet heart, she respected that boundary and never asked me for it). She rarely had her own phone, but I used to suppose she had my phone number tattooed somewhere on her body, because she borrowed multiple phones across Nashville to call me. Sometimes she was in crisis mode and I couldn’t always respond. Sometimes she needed gloves or a coat or some new shoes and dry socks (her size men’s 11W was difficult to find sometimes, but thankfully Walmart usually carried Dr Scholl’s in that size!). Sometimes I think she just wanted a hug and someone to pray for her and her girls, and to just remember that someone knew her name.

For her inability to make wise decisions, she still had a very real faith and would often quote Scriptures and remind me of Spiritual truths that seemed timely and divinely inspired to encourage me. She often told me she was praying for my future husband and that I would be able to adopt one day—she seemed to want that for me even more than I did for myself :)). She often asked about updates about guys I was dating. I always thought that if I did get married, I would invite her to my wedding, seated at a place of honor (with an opportunity to get a new dress and her hair fixed beforehand if she wanted to :)).

Once I didn’t hear anything from her for about 3 months; since there was no way for me to find her, I just continued praying for her and hoping she was ok. Then one day I drove past her on Haywood Lane holding up a sign asking for help. I stopped and hugged her and took her to get some dinner (she had lost her current phone and had actually forgotten my number, but she quickly re-memorized it :)). I often struggled with guilt in my friendship with her; the depths of her needs were beyond my ability to fulfill, and yet I often wondered if there was more I should be doing. It was easy in reality to hand her $10 or $20, a hot fast-food meal, to say a quick prayer with her and be on my way. It didn’t inconvenience me much. But I often found myself wondering if I should help her find odd jobs, apart from just selling The Contributor papers, or if there was a way to get her into a garage apartment. Last year she was somehow part of an altercation and almost lost one of her legs. I visited her in the hospital, which she wanted to leave AMA (against medical advice) since they wouldn’t let her smoke (one of her few joys in life). After being discharged, she went for wound changes at a local clinic, but I’m not sure the wound truly ever healed well.

I can’t recall for sure the last time I saw Melanie. I believe it was in the Circle K parking lot off Nolensville and 440 late last summer. I believe I took her some cash and food, and said a prayer with her, with hands held and heads bowed as the busy traffic rushed by. And then I was probably on my way, telling her to call if she needed anything. Several weeks went by and I didn’t hear from her. I had size 11W winter boots on my shopping list as the months got colder, knowing full well she’d be calling me for them soon. But the cold months came and went and I never heard from her. I prayed for her. I assumed I’d hear eventually or maybe see her on a street corner somewhere. But as time passed with no word, a friend recommended I check the obituaries. So last month I looked and quickly found hers through a Google search. Hit and killed by a car on Nolensville Rd in August of last year. My heart felt heavy as I walked into work that morning. I wish I had known so I could have attended her funeral. I wish I could have told her goodbye. I wish now that I had sat down and shared meals with her instead of just delivering them to her. I miss her toothless smile and her relentless courage to face each new day with none of the luxuries of life that I routinely enjoy.

But I know she had a trusting faith in Jesus. And I know that she’s not suffering anymore. Her wounds are healed, her mind is sound, her needs are met, her bed is soft and warm; she is safe from all harm. Now she can watch from above and see her precious daughters as they grow. Her joy is complete, and she knows no more sorrow. She now has a home, and she is home. I am grateful that God let me know her; and one day Melanie, I’ll see you again 🙂

I’ll confess there are no teams that I regularly follow, professional or collegiate. The die-hard faithfulness of friends and family I know whose blood flows orange or crimson somewhat eludes me. But, put me in a sports venue for a live event with masses cheering, and I am suddenly a fan. Not that I’m a fair-weather fan, I’m just a “caught up in the excitement and the thrill of the game and the love of the camaraderie of supportive crowds eager for a show of rivaling skill and talent” kind of fan. 🙂

I’ve always loved sports movies. Since I was a little girl, something about the powerful story of lives transformed through the discipline of a firm but loving coach, the touching human element of life circumstances changing for the better through the work done on the field, the unity that comes through striving towards and fighting for a common goal, and the elation of victory or the humble acceptance of defeat—all of these aspects and more make for the best of movies to me. Hoosiers, Remember the Titans, and Goal! will forever be some of my absolute favorites.

I played basketball for a very small Christian school in high school. I was the oldest on the team and the games were of little importance in the eyes of anyone other than our parents. And yet, my coach taught me a love of the game; and I experienced first-hand how the personal joy of winning can feel as elating with a handful of friends and a few adoring family members in the stands as it would (I think at least?) with thousands of paying ticket holders. In the moment, the realistic significance of the win (or lack thereof), or the number of seats filled or empty, seem of little importance. It’s just a fantastic feeling to practice, to do your best, and to have it all pay off with a win. To this day, one of my favorite pastimes is to just go outside and shoot a few hoops or to play a good game of Gotcha with friends.

So for those of you who know that I can’t name specific players or coaches or stats (or often even the rules!), it may still surprise you that I absolutely love a good live sporting event (most especially when the weather is glorious). On a sunny day with every row packed at Nissan Stadium (no matter how annoying the Raiders fans may be! :)), it is delightfully fun to sing along with the National Anthem and then to scream for our men in blue. And long before they made the Stanley Cup Playoffs, a night at Bridgestone with the Preds left you smiling the whole time and wanting to come back for more. And on a balmy summer evening, I personally feel there is no better spot in Nashville than at the new Sounds Stadium, First Tennessee Park—get a beer or a hotdog or soft serve in a plastic baseball cap and root for the home team.

I’m curious to see what it will be like to have the new soccer team come to Music City—but that’s one of the things I like most about our hometown—we always make room for more—in our geography and in our hearts. 🙂

Most Nashvillians have probably seen the billboards along the interstate advertising the new Johnny Cash Museum & Café on 3^rd Ave. downtown, but few have likely yet heard of The Storytellers Museum and Hideaway Farm in Bon Aqua, TN. A short drive outside of the city limits down 1-40 West sits an old restored general store that once served as a small-town concert stage for Johnny Cash. The store was later sold and used as a recording studio, but then fell into disrepair until it was recently re-discovered and painstakingly restored by its new owner–an ardent and loyal Cash fan.

The small museum primarily houses memorabilia of Johnny Cash, but also has pieces commemorating Elvis Presley and other country music artists. The legendary “One Piece At a Time” car, which was crafted with a hodgepodge of original Cadillac parts that span a production period of approximately 25 years (and is sung about in Cash’s song by the same title) is on display, and is accessible for photo ops inside the cab. The museum tour begins by watching two short videos, one of which details the restoration of the museum with old reel footage of Cash inside the building. The second video tells the story of salvaging the home of Colonel Tom Parker, the late and great manager of the King of Rock and Roll; this home was local in Madison, Tennessee, and is where Elvis spent much of his time, making the house itself a piece of musical history worthy of preservation. Many pieces from the home and grounds were carefully used to create a beautiful outdoor space with a park-type atmosphere located behind the museum. After watching the videos, you will have time to explore the mementos and to take pictures and will also get to enjoy a 20-30 minute live concert from local talent! The rotation of performing artists actually includes Johnny Cash’s grandson and nephew, among others.

Also included in the price of admission is entry to the farmhouse (built before the Civil War) that was owned and loved by Johnny Cash for over 30 years. The log home, which sits about a mile down the road from the museum, was known as his retreat away, where he could rest and “live the life of a country boy”, among the beautiful, quiet, rolling hills of Hickman County. On the grounds of the farmhouse is a long, open-air garage housing a collection of old cars once owned by Johnny. Being within the walls where this iconic musician both played and lived gives a sense of nostalgia that pictures and artifacts alone cannot provide.

The museum also currently serves as a live music venue and hosts concerts on Saturday nights, replicating in a sense the weekend guitar pulls known as “Saturday Night at Hickman County”, when the Man in Black himself once played there with friends. (Thomas Gabriel, Cash’s grandson will perform the first concert of 2018 on Jan 20, from 7-8:30pm).

Winter hours for the museum are Fridays and Saturdays, opening at 10am, with last entry at 2pm (see storytellersmuseum.com for more details). In a city where most of the country music history and fan-based tours are located in the busy heart of the hectic downtown, you’ll very likely enjoy this opportunity to drive out to the beautiful, open outdoors for a classically country music-lover’s experience.

Centennial Park, one of Nashville’s best-loved outdoor gathering localities, was given its name back in 1897 after it hosted the Tennessee Centennial and International Exposition. (Before being chosen as the site for the Exposition, the 132 acres we now enjoy as Centennial Park had previously been the State Fairgrounds and then later became a racetrack known as West Side Park). The Exposition was planned as a celebration of Tennessee’s 100th anniversary of becoming a state (although the cost and work of the preparations for the fair caused it to open a year late!), and it drew in close to 2 million visitors over the 6 months it was up and running. There were multiple temporary buildings erected for the celebration, including a large Egyptian pyramid, re-created Chinese and Cuban villages, a see-saw ride over 200 feet tall, a man-made lake for gondola rides, and the full-scale replica of the Greek Parthenon.

The Parthenon was originally built of only wood and plaster and was not intended to stand for long after the festivities ended. But Nashville fell in love with this architectural treasure, feeling it proudly symbolized the city’s reputation for being known as the “Athens of the South” (a term that was earned in large part due to a focus on higher education). So from 1921 to 1931, The Parthenon was reconstructed with concrete as a permanent structure. This Music City landmark houses one of Nashville’s fine art museums, featuring 19th and 20th century American artists and other visiting temporary exhibits (open Tues.-Sat, 9am-4:30pm, and Sun. 12:30-4:30pm; $6 admission for adults and $4 for children and seniors).

In addition to the playgrounds, manicured gardens and walking trails surrounding the Parthenon, the park is also widely known and loved for its emphasis on cultural and arts festivals. It annually hosts “Celebrate Nashville Cultural Festival” in the fall, which showcases the beautiful diversity our metropolis is fortunate to enjoy with the numerous countries represented within our city limits. “Shakespeare in the Park” is held in late summer months at the park’s open-air bandshell, giving top-notch performances and high-quality entertainment—a must-see live theater experience on a starry night! Last month I made it out with some friends on a beautiful autumn day to the Centennial Craft Fest; it was a perfect afternoon of a vast array of artisan vendors selling their handiwork, excellent live music, and tasty options of fall treats from a variety of food trucks (I had the pumpkin ice cream from Jeni’s and old-fashioned Kettle Corn—both delicious!). Next year I plan to make it out to the “Musician’s Corner Acoustic Nights”—free outdoor concerts from local talent held weekly, May-June.

If you’ve not yet found yourself at one of the park’s various festivals, mark your calendars for Music City Winterfest on December 9, 2017 (from 10am-4pm). This free event will host over 100 artisan booths ideal for Christmas shopping, live music, activities for the kids, photos with Santa, food and holiday beverages, a S’mores station and even a beard contest!

Although Nashville will always be best known for our musical emphasis, it can’t be denied that having the only full scale replica in the world of the ancient Greek Parthenon adds an intriguing something extra to our city’s sundry resume. 🙂

I first experienced Disney World as an adult; and although I hate to confess that I wasn’t a fan of the parks in general, I loved Epcot. The feel of being in other countries and experiencing, even in a minuscule version, the sights and sounds and tastes of lands far away delighted the wanderlust part of my heart. In similar fashion, Plaza Mariachi Music City, a new addition to Nashville, is a beautifully designed celebration of Latin American culture under one large roof. Just a walk through the 85,000 square feet of architecturally detailed space will give a sense of being in a traditional Mexican marketplace; and there are plenty of foods and drinks, music and entertainment to fully round out the international experience!

Starting in the parking lot, the fountains and benches set within pristine landscaping  provide a welcoming invitation before you even make it in the doors. Once inside, you’ll enter the spacious, main dining plaza with the live entertainment stage. From there you’ll want to explore the “calles” and discover the different street vendor shops ranging from Latin gifts and décor to mobile phones and law offices, an art gallery, boutiques, and even an arcade for the kids. But the main draw for me is the vast array of delicious ethnic foods, beverages and desserts they offer! There are quick lunch options including tacos, Mexican street corn, ceviche, Spanish tapas and pizzas, and sit-down options of an Argentinian steakhouse and Cuban dining. Or you can just grab a paleta, sorbet, or a warm sugar-covered churro for a quick sweet treat. My favorite mid-day pick-me-up is the Horchata Latte from Madera Café, a modern café serving gourmet coffees.

The MazFresco grocery store attached to the plaza has the quality and charm that give the feel of being in a mini Hispanic Whole Foods! They offer freshly baked pan dulces (sweet breads), and tres leches cakes, typical spices and products from Central and South America, a beautiful assortment of colorful fruits and vegetables, and Mexican beers. Their very reasonably-priced hot deli features carne asada, Barbacoa and other succulently prepared meats, beans, and rice all cooked on site, served with homemade tortillas and fresh salsas.

Whatever you choose to eat, you’ll have to sit a spell in the main plaza and enjoy the entertainment of the day—from very talented Latin singers to acrobat acts to Mariachi bands to salsa dancing (free lessons on Thursday nights!). You will experience the quality of performers we’ve all come to expect in Nashville, albeit with a Latin flare. 🙂

The Bluebird—for the rest of the country, these two words likely conjure up the image of a literal blue bird. But for the majority of Nashvillians and country music patrons, they bring to mind a small, awning-covered cafe, tucked obscurely into a strip mall in the heart of the high-end shopping district of Green Hills. It may be the smallest of Nashville’s famous music venues (it only seats 90 among its 20 tables of varying sizes, a few old church pews and handful of bar stools), but it seems the limited access and the challenge of securing tickets have actually contributed to its popularity over time.

While most of the stages in Music City spotlight the artists, The Bluebird exists to showcase the writers of the songs themselves. The restaurant opened in 1982 and within a few years’ time was featuring singer-songwriter performances of up-and-coming artists looking for a platform to share their talent. So, apart from those in the know, or those behind the scenes of the music world, most of the performers aren’t household names; but each is incredibly gifted and worthy of a moment to shine and to be recognized for their musical creations. However, there are now several well-known musicians who credit being discovered there; so one never knows who could be heard tonight in the intimate café setting and then a few years later will be playing a sold out arena! And though I imagine that to some degree they all have dreams of performing for large crowds of fans, by and large it has been my experience that true musicians are genuinely content to play for an engaged, appreciative audience, regardless of the size.

I had been with friends to a show a few years back, but recently decided it was time to visit again. Since the TV show Nashville came on the air in 2012 scripting the Bluebird into its storyline over its five seasons, the demand for tickets has made the online reservation process more difficult (see website for details). So, on a weekday afternoon off work, I went and started the “wait and see” line at 4pm for a 6pm show. There were easily 20-25 people that gathered in the following hour, each hopeful for a seat (the website indicates they allow 10-12 in on a first come basis for the earlier shows, but it seemed to me that more lucky souls made it in that particular night). The wait was warm in the afternoon Tennessee sun, but the show that evening was worth every minute of it! I met people from multiple states and an international couple and enjoyed pre-show dinner conversation with everyone seated at our small table. During the show, there is a quiet policy requesting low voices and minimal talking due to the intimate living room style set-up. As the performers take turns “in the round” style, it seems that each balances the vulnerability of sitting with just his/her voice and a stringed instrument, with a gratefulness for the captive listeners willing and wanting to hear the songs they have penned.

Perhaps I’m more inclined than some to have an ear for country and bluegrass music, but I realized again that night that there is something that just comes alive in me when I hear the strum of a skilled guitarist singing an acoustic masterpiece, authentically Nashville-style. 🙂

Although I’ve never considered myself a history buff, I still appreciate the preservation of our past—for better or for worse, it provides pieces of the puzzle that have contributed to the bigger, modern-day picture of who we are today. And wanting to take advantage of an historical landmark just a few miles from my home in Donelson, I recently visited The Hermitage, the home of our seventh president, Andrew Jackson (who, interestingly, was the last president to have personally known all of his former presidential predecessors).

I had seen the mansion at a distance at last year’s Fall Festival (a weekend event of artisans, live music and food trucks, benefitting The Hermitage; Fall Fest 2017 is coming up again soon (Sept 30-Oct 1), but had not yet toured inside, or seen the full scope of the beautiful grounds surrounding the home. So I went with my parents to the summer’s final “Pinot with the President”—a special evening held after normal business hours that provides wine and hors d’oeuvres and the opportunity to leisurely tour the cabins, gardens and mansion at your own pace. And there were expertly-knowledgeable guides stationed at the different sites to share historical stories of centuries gone by—accurately portraying what seems to be in all of us—goodness marred by the flaws of humanity and the sins of their current era; stories that share the impact of it all and the lessons we can learn and carry forward from them.

On a clear, late summer afternoon with the sun beginning to set and the temperature sitting comfortably in the 70’s, the weather lent itself perfectly to a mostly outdoor event, to fully enjoy the well-manicured garden, the mature trees and acres of rolling fields that give the feel of being hours from the city! The Hermitage estate was sold to the state of Tennessee in the 1850’s, and has been pristinely maintained; the mansion had been in the Jackson family until its sale, so most of the furnishings inside are original to when the president and his family lived there (another factoid I found interesting: Pres. Jackson and his wife Rachel never had children of their own, but adopted two sons, one was their nephew, and the other was a Native American baby who died of tuberculosis at age 16).

Pinot with the President is a once a month summer event that you can look for in 2018; but regular tours are available daily (thehermitage.com). It’s a short drive from the city and is a great way to enjoy the beauty of the outdoors of Middle Tennessee while also procuring a history lesson outside of the classroom 🙂

I imagine that at some point we have all candidly declared what we claim to be our favorite spot on God’s green earth. Be it a once-visited, dream-vacation destination; a frequently-visited, familiar beach in the summertime; a mountain peak finally reached after a tenacious climb; or a grandparent’s home filled with happy childhood memories. In theory, we get to choose our best-loved corner of the world, but in reality, I feel that mine chose me.

Before my parents married, my dad purchased some land in Santa Fe, Tennessee, (generally speaking, it’s a little town tucked between Columbia and Franklin). Growing up, we’d often pack a picnic and drive out to the farm and skip rocks on the pond while talking and dreaming about possibly building a house there one day. To wrap up our outing, we’d typically drive a few minutes down the road for some sweet treats in Bethel, a community comprised of a country store, a community center and a small church, all nestled in a beautiful cove within the “greater” Santa Fe district.

As the pace of life and the growth of Nashville have steadily increased over time, Bethel has maintained a sense of stillness and tranquility that has consistently drawn me back there through the years. From seeing a horse-drawn wagon tethered up outside, to hearing bell-chimed hymns from the church, to the calming gurgling of the creek, to the singing of the multitude of birds that fill the surrounding trees, everything about being there symbolizes peace to me. I literally couldn’t count the number of times I’ve driven on a sunny morning to Bethel, down Old Hillsboro Rd, through Leiper’s Fork, with a cup of Starbucks and listening to my favorite music, just to sit at the picnic table and read or journal. It’s honestly what I remember feeling most homesick for during my time living in South America several years back.

Although the country store/restaurant has changed owners and names over the years (it is now Nett’s Country Store and can be found on Facebook with many a tempting photo of homemade pies!), it has faithfully always offered a truly delicious cheeseburger. 🙂 The red-tin roofed and white-washed, wood-sided building and its creaky front porch, with its natural backdrop of green rolling hills, offers an inviting welcome to hungry locals or to those just out for a drive in the country. On Sundays they serve a Southern meat and three buffet from 11a-2p; they also have catfish Fridays and host Bingo and karaoke nights. And one day I’m going to finally make it out to Bethel’s annual fish fry!

I suppose the places we call our favorites are inevitably where our souls feel renewed—where we seem to feel God’s presence most tangibly—those places that reflect beauty and serenity in ways that provide us with at least a small glimpse of the eternity set in our hearts.

If you’ve never been, or if it’s just been a while since you were there, I highly encourage a visit to Arrington Vineyards. The grounds epitomize the beauty of Middle Tennessee and yet capture the feel of wine country in California (at least of the photos I’ve seen ;).  Although a clear forecast and temperate weather will greatly enhance the overall experience, the rolling hills with expansive views, the bright, cascading foliage of the grapevines, the pristine landscaping and attention to detail, and of course the award winning wines (!), will, I believe, cause everyone to leave with a smile, regardless of the climate.

The first time I went was a few years back with several sweet friends; we gathered around the picnic table with a smorgasbord of savory eats. In the midst of laughter and fellowship, a huge full moon crested the night sky and made for an admittedly magical night. The times since have never failed to provide a glorious sunset, possibly biasing my love for the vineyards! But for anyone who delights in being outdoors with a group of good friends and who enjoys packing a basket of favorite foods to complement your favorite blends of vino, check your weather app and plan an evening soon to head a few miles south of Franklin to Arrington, Tennessee.

Every Saturday and Sunday in the months of April through October, AV offers a free event called “Music in The Vines”. Jazz lovers can enjoy the live bands in the courtyard tent by the tasting lodge, and those of us who prefer Bluegrass can hear fiddles and banjos in the quintessential, farm-style, red Grand Barn. Pack a blanket or lawn chair, grab dinner on the way (my personal go-to is the cranberry chicken salad and homemade rolls from the Amish Feed Mill—it’s en route if you can add 5-10 minutes to take the more scenic drive through Nolensville), and get ready to tap your toes while sharing a bottle of bubbly. (As a side note, entrance and parking are free—they only ask that you not bring in any outside alcohol. You can purchase a wine tasting–although there is usually a wait for the tasting options–or you can just purchase a bottle of your choice, an average of $18-25/bottle.)

Arrington Vineyards celebrated 10 years this month and has steadily and honorably earned its title as “Nashville’s Wine Country” over its decade of wine making. So pack up the kids, call up a friend, or just grab a good book, and enjoy one of Nashville’s truest treasures.

Cute and cozy have, over time, become the two adjectives that most define my style of preference. From inspiring the decorating motif in my little house, to characterizing the shops that manage to draw me inside and the small towns that keep calling me back for a visit—all my favorites can best be described as cute and cozy. So it probably comes as no surprise that the simplicity and quaint charm of historic downtown Bell Buckle, Tennessee, tempt me to exit every time I’m passing by on 1-24. Set just a few miles off the interstate, through picturesque countryside, (and less than an hour outside of Nashville), Bell Buckle draws in thousands of visitors yearly.

From its antique shops in vintage brick buildings to its popular café with a delightful array of fried and comfort foods, to an ice cream parlor with an old fashioned soda fountain, to the large quilt design painted on the main street, a day in the life of this revived railroad town feels like stepping back into olden days (one of their slogans reads: “We are 100 years behind the times and proud of it!”).  Known increasingly as a center for arts and crafts and even for live music, Bell Buckle is likely best known as the home of the RC-Moon Pie Festival held every June.

Although Moon Pies are made at the Chattanooga Bakery, back in the 1990’s Bell Buckle offered to host a party of sorts to celebrate the 75^th birthday of this traditional Southern dessert; and the result was a beloved annual festival honoring the famous pies and RC colas. While the historical union of this soda and sweet-treat duo is somewhat elusive, they have nonetheless been paired together for decades and were formerly referred to as “the working man’s lunch”, back even to the 1930’s (presumably because the combo was an affordable, filling snack at a nickel apiece!).

So whether it be the events of the festivals, the antique shopping, or just a day trip which includes a little bit of reminiscing and the chance to breathe in fresh air beyond the big-city limits, the friendly residents of Bell Buckle will always welcome you with a smile (and likely a Moon Pie :))

The Loveless Café has earned its famous reputation as home of Nashville’s best biscuits over the past 60 plus years since Lon and Annie Loveless first purchased the property in the 1950’s and Annie started making and selling her special biscuit recipe (which was thankfully passed on when they eventually sold the business). Although best known for their biscuits and country ham, the café’s extensive menu gives out-of-town and local guests a variety of options to enjoy the full flare of Southern cuisine while satisfying the heartiest of appetites, including sausage and gravy, grits and omelets, fried chicken or catfish, and their popular barbecue smoked on-site over Tennessee hickory wood.

Although the Loveless motel was closed down in 1985, the original, neon-lit sign advertising both the café and motel still stands out front and has become the trademark for this legendary diner. But the old white buildings once used for room and board for tired travelers on the Natchez Trace have now been converted into different shops to be explored either while waiting on your table, or afterwards while walking off a full stomach! Lil’ Biscuits Gift Store and Hams & Jams Country Market round out the tourist experience by offering souvenirs and pre-packaged, portable tastes of the café to enjoy back in the comfort of one’s own home. And a number of painted rocking chairs and corn hole boards are also set up outdoors providing either rest or diversion while waiting your turn to be seated inside. The grounds expanded back in 2009 when they added the Loveless Barn, a beautiful venue for hosting events or live music in an atmosphere offering the distinguished, down-home charm of the South.

And just in case you have a morning at home and a craving for freshly baked biscuits before you get a chance to make it down Highway 100 out to Loveless, I’ll share a family favorite recipe for buttermilk biscuits that has proved faithful over the years!

2 cups all-purpose flour (chilled)

1 Tbsp. baking powder

2 tsps. sugar

½ tsp. cream of tartar

¼ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. baking soda

½ cup chilled butter (real butter)

1 cup buttermilk

Mix dry ingredients and finely cut in butter (very finely—until mixture resembles a powder). Add buttermilk and toss with a fork until a ball of dough forms. Put on a floured surface and knead very gently until smooth. Pat to about ¾” (the thicker the better!) and place with sides touching on un-greased baking sheet. Bake at 450 for about 12-15 minutes until golden on top and bottom (and not doughy in the middle).

Nashville is growing increasingly more and more popular as a hot spot for new restaurants, great chefs, and unique dining experiences. And not surprisingly, since it seems that no matter how many start-up eateries hang a sign and open their doors, both locals and tourists alike stream in and fill the tables, eager to try the latest twist on menu offerings and to test out the social scene. Although Yelp and other such apps can serve as dependable guides for eating out, the sheer volume of options has led me to mostly rely on word-of-mouth recommendations when planning an evening out.

If you can trust that a bit of a drive past the city limits and navigating a maze of country roads all just lends to a sense of adventure in discovering an exceptionally fun evening, then you might soon find yourself in Santa Fe, Tennessee, enjoying authentic Cajun food and great live music. I suppose the remote location of the little yellow brick building (about an 45-60 minute scenic drive out of Nashville) was part of a plan to keep the crowd size down and the food top-notch for this small, family-owned business. It is best to call ahead as they are only open on weekend evenings (Fri-Sun) and seating capacity tops out at around 25 (and they fill up fast!).

The appetizer of Boudin balls is absolutely worth the drive there. And although I was too full after the main course to have the fresh beignets for dessert, the other guests at our family-style table couldn’t stop raving about them. They offer sweet tea and sodas, but are otherwise a friendly BYOB establishment, so you can carry a little cooler in with you if you’d like. The solo musician squeezed into the corner with his guitar probably caused them to sacrifice seating for 2 additional customers; but the music creates a festive and cozy ambiance that enhances the overall experience for all the contented diners who ventured from near and farther to savor the tastes of New Orleans in the beautiful backwoods of Tennessee.   🙂

The trend is growing and the pressure is on to purchase locally-grown produce. But it’s a positive pressure. Simply strolling through rows of vendors at a farmer’s market with their freshly-harvested fruits, veggies and herbs makes me feel that I’ve already somehow contributed to my physical health, as well as to the cohesiveness of my community. The colors and aromas inspire a creativity in me to try new recipes using only ingredients purchased from the open air market–with no supplementing from a grocery store list! (Haven’t attempted this yet—but it’s a goal. :))

But more than just the option of purchasing healthier, tastier produce, (and a broad array of baked goods, jams, cheeses, etc), I love the atmosphere and the feel of just celebrating the simple joys in life that are experienced at a Farmer’s Market. Each pocket of Nashville has its own—mine is in Hip Donelson on Friday nights. I feel an admiration for the hard work that got the unprocessed, flavorful food from the earth and onto the folding tables set up in Ace Hardware’s parking lot. I also find myself feeling proud of complete strangers who have turned their love of preparing delicious food into a small business. Their talent and dedication to producing their products allows you to sample a variety of cupcakes, freshly roasted coffee, bacon ketchup (SO good!) and honey from music city bees (all set to the backdrop of live musicians performing for your shopping enjoyment :)).

A couple of months I’ve made it out to Night Market! at the downtown Nashville Farmers’ Market (3rd Friday of each month). I absolutely love the combination of all things that make me happy being under one roof! Live music, a variety of ethnic or classic American dinner options, good drinks at The Picnic Tap, shopping (the Batch store always tempts me to buy new Nashville memorabilia), an international market, and Jeni’s ice cream—I personally couldn’t ask for anything else to be there!

The sights and smells and sounds of the full experience of a Farmer’s Market bring all the senses to life. There is an earthy, tangible feel that makes one appreciate both the created gifts we have been given, and the creativeness we were also given to create.

Simply put, I love Starbucks. For someone who is averse to most chain restaurants– preferring the small hole in the wall/Mom & Pop eateries–I ironically faithfully frequent the largest megacorp in the world of java. My friends know me well it seems, because gift cards with the lady in green have become guaranteed birthday presents every February. I would have to confess that I’m a self-professed coffee snob, and while some might argue in favor of other brews, Starbucks’ White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha never disappoints. 🙂

But four years ago when I first visited the small town in Sweden where my sister-in-law is from, I discovered the cozy feel of uniquely, individually designed coffee shops. I marveled at the quaintness, the simplicity, and yet the attention to detail in the décor (and at their delicious coffee!). I considered the distinctiveness of each one just part of my delightful European experience, but then found myself wishing for places back in Tennessee that would more closely resemble the originality of the coffee shops I was leaving behind, than the more modern, streamlined feel of the Starbucks I was returning home to.

That’s when I first began to realize that Nashville had a lot more to offer than just several locations of Starbucks (although I can definitely tell you where each one is!)—I had just made my world a little too small by mainly going only there. Although I had previously visited Bongo Java, Fido’s and Frothy Monkey and knew they would always deliver a great cup of coffee, I’ve more recently determined to discover all of our city’s options for a great espresso or cappuccino, each in its own personal setting of charm and character (albeit with more of a Nashville flare than a European one).

So these days, when I need a perfectly brewed cup of caffeine, or need to catch up with a friend, I’m expanding my world past the internationally available to the locally available. I highly recommend the Coffee Glacier at Portland Brew, the Cuban at Crema, an iced coffee at Barista Parlor, a chilled Chai at The Red Bicycle, a Salted Caramel latte at Three Brothers Coffee, the Dirty Chai at Sam & Zoe’s, and an Iced Latte at Flatrock. And if you find yourself with a peaceful afternoon, try The Well Coffeehouse or Just Love Coffee—both are committed to using their profits towards promoting social justice locally and globally, and they each have inviting seating to go along with their excellently-roasted beverages. All you need to bring is a great book 🙂

I love good food. Really good food. Not fancy or pricey food even, just layers of flavors that have been skillfully and intentionally prepped by a chef who delights in creating and offering really good food. In my travels to different continents and countries, I’ve developed an appreciation for many ethnic dishes; I’ve discovered that recipes passed down over generations and perfected over centuries in cultures with a history much older than our own tend to have depths of flavor that traditional American cuisine can sometimes be lacking (although I’ll forever love a good Southern meat & three or a juicy burger!).

I also prefer the smaller, hole-in-the-wall, potentially-undiscovered, non-chain restaurants. While Applebee’s and Logan’s have their place in feeding the hungry masses (and although I confess I may be idealizing the whole scenario :), I’ve typically experienced that the smaller the restaurant, the more each bite reflects that pride was taken in the meal preparation—that there is a culinary artist in the kitchen who genuinely enjoys perfecting his or her craft and who cares about having satisfied customers (who become regulars!).

So, those being my personal preferences in guiding my restaurant selections in the ever-growing world of Nashville eating options, I highly recommend trying Subculture. A relatively new, barely visible from the street eatery tucked in a strip mall between Babies-R-Us and Kroger at the intersection of Nolensville and Old Hickory, it is advertised as Latin American street food and urban cuisine. From their Churrasco sandwich with succulently-marinated, locally-sourced beef, to a Nashville Scene Hot Chicken Biscuit winner, to the tastiest tacos I’ve ever had (Tuesday is taco night and 2 for 1 local draft beers), to crepes with bourbon maple syrup, every menu provision is meticulously crafted for your eating enjoyment. I make no claims to be a food critic but can guarantee that if you venture out for a new experience, you won’t leave disappointed.

*Subculture now also has a food truck inside Mill Creek Brewery in Nolensville, Tennessee.

I suppose every town has its claim to fame—some more widely recognized than others. Columbia (Nashville’s southerly neighbor by about 45 minutes) is proud to be known as the Mule Capital of the World. Although I was born in Nashville and spent my earliest years here, my parents moved us to Columbia when I was in elementary school to be closer to my grandmother. So, over the course of my childhood, I learned to proudly claim my Muletown heritage.

Every year, on a Saturday early in April, we participated in Mule Day in some form or fashion (several years back it changed from Mule Day to Mule Days and became a full weekend of mule-related events). People lined our small town’s streets to see mule-drawn wagons, decorated floats, pageant winners waving from convertibles, and many a horseback rider. One year I rode the Tennessee Walker I had taken riding lessons on, hoping the whole time that she would remain as calm amidst the sea of animals and crowds of people as she typically did in the open fields of the farm where I normally rode her. When I was in 3^rd grade, my school entered a “Wish Upon a Star” float with each child dressing up as what they wanted to be when they grew up—decked out in a white nurse’s uniform and cap, I knew early on exactly what I wanted to be. 🙂

I’ve lived back in Nashville now for 20 years; a few years ago, I returned with my niece and nephew to see the parade, enjoying seeing their enjoyment of it. But this year I decided to go back to once again experience all things centered around mules. So, on a blue sky, sunny day, I went with a friend yesterday to Maury County Park, the hub for campers and horse trailers, and the headquarters for the mule races, pulling competitions, and riding shows, for live music, arts & crafts sales and for all types of food trucks and vendors offering a variety of fried and tasty fair foods.

Mule Day began in Columbia back in 1840 as a “Breeder’s Day” for mule breeders who met there to trade. It now draws in over 100,000 visitors from all across the country to enjoy the festivities. I’ll admit it was more a sense of nostalgia than a keen interest in the crossbreed of horse and donkey that made me want to go; but I’m learning that home always has a way of drawing you back and that time tends to grow an ever deepening appreciation for the uniqueness of the town that grew you.

For someone who didn’t even drink until I was in my 30’s, friends from my younger years might still be surprised to find me writing about a love for craft beer. 🙂 And although I have a somewhat particular palate for particular types of brews, I nonetheless have developed an appreciation for the cold beverages that are “Created. Not made.”, to borrow The Black Abbey Brewing Company’s motto.

While farmers’ markets, CSAs and some area restaurants offer options to eat local, a growing number of Nashville breweries provide multiple options to drink local. According to ediblenashville.com * (an excellent resource for all things food and drink in Music City!), there were 50 breweries in the U.S. in 1984, and there were 4,000 as of 2016, with new ones opening daily. And Nashville has contributed more than 20 of its own outstanding ones to the statistical increase.

For those who enjoy the world of ales, lagers, pilsners and such, a tour of the Yazoo Brewery is a must. It’s a popular place with a packed taproom, so it’s best to buy the $8 tickets online in advance. The tours are informative, fun, and generous with samples. Most of the taprooms provide a variety of board games, darts, ping-pong, corn hole, etc., so you can linger and leisurely enjoy time with friends. Some also sell food (Tennessee Brew Works has a great Five Beer Burger, and East Nashville Brew Works and Tailgate both sell exceptional pizzas), while others let you brown bag it and bring in your food of choice. Black Abbey also has food trucks parked out front on Friday nights so you can buy dinner on the way in (The Brothers Burger food truck that rotates there some weeks is hands down the best burger I’ve had in Nashville!)

And for those who love music with their brews, Tennessee Brew Works is an official Nashville Live Music Venue, and has live music most nights, including a no-cover charge Bluegrass jam session on Wednesday nights; and Little Harpeth has a string band performing every Friday night. My favorite brewery musical experience so far (and personal recommendation!) was the Beer and Hymn sing at Black Abbey. Their small taproom was filled to capacity with Christmas carolers singing in unison, delightfully lending itself to an Irish pub feel. (beerhymns.com)

So here’s to discovering the beer side of our city, and to drinking locally (and responsibly :-))

*Search “Beer City” for a guide to Nashville breweries

 

The Station Inn—its humble, unassuming appearance in the midst of Nashville’s newer, more modern surrounding structures that make up The Gulch, has often reminded me of one of my favorite stories as a child, The Little House. The award winning children’s book tells of a cozy little home that is almost lost as a city is built up around it; but in spite of the grandeur of the expanding skyline, it is the unpretentious little building that remains the central character and star of the show.

While many venues in Nashville host a variety of music genres, The Station Inn is known by all as the heart and home of Bluegrass. Many a banjo and mandolin have been expertly played on that small stage since 1978 (although it originally opened in 1974, it moved to its current location four years later). The interior could be labeled lackluster by some, but to me, the windowless, knotty pine walls covered up almost entirely by concert posters, the soft glow of the white lights hung on the ceiling, and the down home feel of a dive bar provide a welcoming “y’all come” as soon as you walk in. The performers always seem to be perfectly in their element—in their happy place. Their love for sharing their gift is evident in their laid back interaction with the audience throughout the evening and in their exquisite skill of strumming a Bluegrass rhythm.

It’s best to arrive early to the show—the coziness of the room also means limited seating options. Be prepared with cash for the entrance fee (other than a free Bluegrass jam on Sunday nights, tickets typically range between $12-$20; credit cards are accepted at the bar for beer, drinks or food). The small, ballpark-type menu of nachos, pizza and hotdogs won’t be what draws you back there, but after experiencing the overall joy of this Nashville gem, I’d be highly surprised if you didn’t find yourself eager to go back.

You have to go. Line up a babysitter, or take the kiddos. Plan a date, or meet up with a friend. In a city where new restaurants open continuously, there is a small, greasy spoon diner that has stood the test of time for over 75 years. Elliston Place Soda Shop boldly claims to have the best burger in town, and considering myself a connoisseur of good cheeseburgers, they were an easy selection for a recent birthday dinner with a dear friend.

The historic character of the diner has been well preserved, and gives a welcoming invitation to all hungry customers to enjoy their Southern cuisine with a sense of nostalgia for the olden days. Mini jukeboxes at every booth, red vinyl-topped bar stools, and old-timey milkshake makers all lend to creating a delightful ambiance of yesteryear. The Soda Shop announced its closing back in 2011, due to rising rent prices, but the local public poured out their support, causing the landlord to renegotiate the lease which kept the doors of this Nashville landmark open.

No other restaurant in Nashville has been open longer in its original location. This charming eatery is on the national register of historic places and was mentioned in the book 1,000 Places to See Before You Die. There is a full breakfast and soda fountain menu, and different meat and three options are offered Monday through Friday. But the burgers are a menu staple, and every delicious bite is worth every delicious calorie.

For me, Nashville is the perfect balance of big (enough) city, and of small town USA. We have our notable skyline with its impressive skyscrapers and then we have rolling hills, with their equally impressive landscapes, just on the outskirts of the metropolis. Depending on how your mood strikes, you can take in the bustling sights and sounds of Broadway, or you can retreat to one of the quainter and quieter sides of Music City. Among my favorites are Leiper’s Fork, downtown Franklin, Bell Buckle and Nolensville.

Nolensville has more recently become a hot spot for the real estate market, but for those of us happily settled in homes within the city limits, it makes a for a perfect weekend morning day trip. I’ve driven through Nolensville before, since it’s the most scenic (though maybe not the most direct) route to Arrington Vineyards. But on a warm September day last fall, I made Nolensville the final stop destination. Although I had previously discovered the amazing tastes for sale at The Amish Feed Mill (a container of their cranberry chicken salad with a bag of their freshly baked dinner rolls is a perfect to-go picnic to take to Arrington), on that day I met a friend there for the Saturday morning breakfast (served every Saturday from 8-10:30am) and just enjoyed good conversation in the ambiance of the old country market. In a world where shiny and new is often the assumed preference, I love the beauty that is evident in the rustic wood floors and mismatched dining tables and chairs. And although I confess I’m partial to a tried and true biscuit recipe we’ve made in our family for years, I still loved their biscuits with homemade jam, sausage and gravy, thick-cut bacon and scrambled eggs (yes, I ate it all :)). If that standard fare for breakfast were good for you, I would eat it every morning of my life. So when I’m at places like The Feed Mill (or Loveless Café), I set aside my typical health conscious choices and just eat like a true Southerner.

After eating more than I should have, we headed over to the Nolensville Farmer’s Market. I regretted being so full once I watched my friend pick out a box of pastries for her family from the The Bekahry tent. Hearing the baker share about making the oversized cinnamon rolls (with generous coverings of icing), the muffins, donuts and her chorizo, egg & hot pepper Jack Cheese Kolaches, will likely get me to drive back down south one Saturday morning on an empty stomach. After we made some healthier purchases from produce vendors of nearby farms, I headed over to explore my friend’s recommendations for some of the little gift shops set up in restored homes along the main street. The Tanner House, Shabby Lane and The Painted Dragonfly (all within walking distance of each other) each tempted me with adorable home décor, word art, boutique clothing and just delightfully different gift ideas.

I’m sure the locals and newly-established home owners in Nolensville could share other highlights and options of things to see and do there, but part of the fun is to know just enough to go and then discover more. 🙂

The Grand Ole Opry House—for years it really wasn’t even on my radar; I considered it a must see for tourists and a “maybe one day…” for locals. When I finally went there on a date for the first time a couple years ago, I was honestly astonished at how much I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the musical broadcast. I knew I loved country and bluegrass music, so maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised, but the entertainment of the radio production side, the genuine joy of each performer, and maybe the enthusiasm of the largely out-of-towners audience, made for nothing short of a delightful evening.

Concerts are, in their simplest form, a performance. But the Opry has a way of elevating the performances and the air time transmission to its radio listeners into a celebration of the power of music to lift both soul and spirit to the joyful place I believe God intended His gift of music to do. My roots in loving country music started back in my earliest years listening to Elvis and Patsy Cline in my grandmother’s farmhouse, and seeing her contented smile and the twinkle in her eye as she hummed along with her favorite songs. (A while back I asked my five year-old nephew if he liked country music, and he promptly and matter-of-factly replied, “no, I like city music” : )) Obviously an appreciation of Nashville’s best known genre of music is a likely prerequisite to a fully enjoyable experience at the Opry, but I can’t help but wonder if even the self-proclaimed prefer-ers of “city music,” couldn’t help but find themselves smiling and tapping their toes to the rhythmic timing throughout the radiocast.

I recently took the backstage tour of the beautiful Grand Ole Opry House building; it was originally constructed in 1974 to give a permanent home to the show that had been growing increasingly famous at the Ryman Auditorium since 1943 (although the Opry’s inception as a barn dance program goes all the way back to 1925). There is a circle of wood taken from the Ryman that is now on the Opry House stage as the place of honor to stand and share your voice and song. Even after the building suffered extensive damage under 4 feet of water in the flood of 2010, the wood circle was restored and replaced to its original spot in center stage—although not visible to the audience, it symbolizes a revered place in the spotlight for each guest or newly-inducted artist who has been invited to officially join as an Opry House member.

The tour, the stories, the framed photos of singers of years gone by… they all serve to grow your appreciation for the roots of music that is “down to earth” (to quote George D. Hay who founded the original Opry radio program). All the artists are people just like you and me; but they were given a talent and an opportunity to share their musical gift with the world–and I for one, am a truly grateful and happy recipient. 🙂

The Ryman Auditorium. For those who love the old majestic building, and who feel a sense of familiarity towards it, it’s simply referred to as The Ryman.
Over the years, I’ve been to countless concerts in that historical venue, and the overwhelming takeaway is the deep sense of gratitude and humility that even the most accomplished and famous of artists express about being able to perform there. I’ve been told that musicians prefer the acoustics there to any other musical stage Nashville offers. And I have definitely experienced firsthand the heightened, almost magical experience that is felt with the notes and strums and rhythm taking on a life of their own as they reverberate off the aged walls and stained glass windows.

Finished in 1892, it was originally The Union Gospel Tabernacle—built by newly converted Thomas Ryman to provide a permanent structure for tent evangelist, Sam Jones, to preach to the city of Nashville. Since its beginnings, it has hosted varying types of shows and events, but is most widely recognized for being home to the Grand Ole Opry in the mid 1900’s. Referencing its original purpose and also its most commonly known history, it is now often endearingly called “The Mother Church of Country Music”.  Although the Opry now has its permanent home by Opry Mills, it still returns to its roots at the Ryman every year for the months of November through January. It’s quite honestly a boot-stomping good time regardless of the line-up of Country or Bluegrass artists for any particular night. I made it out recently on a cold night for Opry at the Ryman; I got so caught up in the grandeur of the place that particular night, that I was an easy sell for the advertised post-show tour of the Ryman. I hadn’t previously realized the detailed history of that beloved building—it stood unused, in need of repair, and in threat of being torn down for many years, and was only fully restored to its original glory in the 1990s. The tour takes you behind the scenes through the green rooms and then out onto the stage—anyone with a love for music can’t help but briefly indulge your whimsical side and imagine yourself as the one up there with the microphone :).

I bought a new Hatch print for my home that night in the gift shop—it proudly displays the beautiful architecture of the Ryman with the words “Soul of Nashville”. One could argue that title I suppose, but if walls could sing what they’ve heard over more than a century, I can’t imagine there would be anywhere else in our hometown that would be better suited to be called just that.

As much as I love to travel and see new places, I love to come home. Maybe I globe trotted enough in my younger years to adequately scratch that itch. Or maybe it’s that I’ve been a homeowner now for a couple years and my roots have grown deeper since I left the world of rentals. But I still appreciate the benefit of getting away—a change of pace and scenery that provides a break from the norm and a refreshing element of different. But, as aforementioned, I love to come home. So I think I value the closer-to-home weekend getaways (e.g. a cabin in the Smokies for a weekend), and the drivable day trip options.

For me, downtown Franklin has always felt like the perfect day away. Just a hop and a skip down 65 (or a more scenic view down Franklin Rd), and the world suddenly feels smaller and quainter. Even though it has recently added some more nationally known retail stores and restaurant chains (I truly hated to see H.R.H. Dumplings leave Main St!), the majority of the shops and eateries have original charm and are authentically one of a kind. I would have to describe Meridee’s as nothing short of adorable, and just cozy—a celebration of the finest version of all things carbs :). Next door is Puckett’s—a delightful place to hear live music while enjoying the best of burgers. 55 South has an amazing hot chicken sandwich that was featured on The Food Network. But I’m definitely not opposed to all things chain—there is a Starbucks and a Sweet Cece’s at 5 Points that will give you the caffeine kick or the hot summer day cool-off you need to continue a full day of fun.

And if you don’t happen to arrive there hungry, just shop for a while in the antique stores, boutiques (my personal favorite is Philanthropy—10% of all their proceeds are donated to missions), home décor, gift and art shops, and you will quickly work up a healthy appetite. I purchased a large word art print with a George McDonald quote on it from The Shop Around the Corner. I would like to think it’s an original, yet I imagine there are others out there—but surely not many others?? Although the shops won’t satisfy the bargain hunting side of me, they do provide the possibility of finding unique treasures that help me justify the slight jump in prices that factor into the charisma of the Franklin experience. (And you’re also supporting small businesses :))

And then there’s the recently restored Franklin Theater. They continue to have an old-fashioned marquee sign and show movies (you can still see It’s a Wonderful Life on a big screen) and are now also a live music venue (one I haven’t yet made it to, but plan to!). I did make it out this year to A Dickens of a Christmas—another, “I’ll get there someday”, that I finally made happen. It was a delightful afternoon of local artisans, musicians, food trucks and merriment. I love the big city feel of Nashville, but there will always be a part of my soul that craves smaller, quieter, simpler… So for that, I am grateful that Franklin is just a few short miles south of me.

Most people in Nashville have heard of The Fontanel by now, but the majority of people I know still haven’t experienced all it has to offer. My first time out to Whites Creek Pike was to a Needtobreathe concert at The Carl Black Chevy Woods Amphitheater—a perfect outdoor venue on a clear night to hear one of my favorite bands. (I’m hoping to make it there next year to the Kid Rock annual fish fry). But aside from special events, the grounds hold plenty of options to enjoy a full day without ever having to move your car. The Mansion at Fontanel is the world’s largest log home (33k sq feet), built by Barbara Mandrell’s husband (and where her family lived for several years). The tour guide shares many endearing and inspiring stories of the Mandrell family and of other country artists who have used the home in years since for retreats, writing sessions, etc. They encourage a homey feel and let you sit on the furniture, play the piano, and strum the same guitars played and donated by various famous musicians.

If you purchase your mansion tour through Groupon, a wine tasting is also included with the ticket purchase. Natchez Hills Winery (in Hampshire, Tennessee) has a beautiful tasting room on the grounds. And on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, they host a free concert series, Rhythm & Vine, featuring talented local performers. If weather permits, the concerts are held on the adjacent patio overlooking the beautiful tree-covered hills—truly a perfectly, peaceful way to spend a weekend afternoon! (There is also a distillery on the property where you can sample Tennessee whiskeys and rums). If you’re hungry, Café Fontanella is an Italian restaurant that feels like fine dining, yet in a relaxed, down home sort of way; the café also offers free concerts over weekend brunches and every night over dinner (I highly recommend the Bruschetta appetizer :).

And you’ll have to peek in the Stone House Shoppe—just as the name denotes, it’s an adorable little stone house filled with Tennessee gifts, memorabilia and décor—I haven’t yet managed to walk inside and walk out empty handed. 🙂 There are also wooded trails to hike and zip lines to enjoy if you’re looking for adventures in nature just a few miles outside the city limits. And if you’re ever in need of a retreat close to home, there is a small, but gorgeous 4 star Inn (part of the Southern Living Hotel Collection).

I recently spent an afternoon with my mom on the 100+ acres that make up The Fontanel. The day proved to be the perfect mix of activity and of carefree time to just relax and enjoy each other’s company in this happy place tucked away in a corner of Nashville away from the hustle and bustle.

Radnor Lake—I often refer to it as my outdoor cathedral. There is something both majestic, and equally peaceful about walking the shaded, yet sun-sparkled trails. I’m convinced that my soul needs nourishment as much (if not more?) as my body does. Life seems to be a learning process of figuring out exactly what replenishes your inner being; for me, it is being outside. I appreciate the conveniences of all things indoors (and enjoy camping the most when a shower facility is available), but the wonder I feel at the beauty of nature is unmatched by anything else I love. So when I feel the need to be alone, but also productive (hiking the trails is obviously great exercise!), I drive over to Radnor Lake—the secluded feel of the park will make you marvel at the convenience of getting there.

I confess that you’ll never see me at a gym, but I’m admittedly a bit OCD about getting my daily walk in. Exercise is a joyful experience for me–IF I can exercise outside. It almost feels like cheating to walk the perimeter of the lake and know that it counts as a heart healthy activity. I know there are scientific studies confirming the improved cognitive ability of the brain to think and talk while walking, but I am just as convinced that there is an added benefit of the soul to more freely express itself in the presence of natural beauty. So, Radnor Lake is also my where I go when I want to catch up with a dear friend—in a heart to heart way.

I also genuinely love to drive—distance doesn’t faze me if the destination is desirable. But in this crazy fast world we live in, sometimes we only have a few minutes to get to a physical location that will contribute to our peace of mind. So, if your day’s schedule only allows you a short amount of combined time to drive and exercise, head over towards Granny White Pike with your walking shoes on. Your soul will thank you. 🙂

(side note: Radnor Lake was originally constructed by the Louisville & Nashville (L&N) Railroad in 1914 to be a reservoir to supply water for its steam engines at Radnor Yards.)

 

Full Moon Pickin’ Party—an absolute Nashville MUST-do! I’ve been twice now and have set a goal to (hopefully) make it every month in 2017 (happens May-Oct). If Bluegrass music makes you smile and tap your feet, if you love being outdoors and can marvel at the splendor of a full moon, if you appreciate the tasty offerings of food trucks and cold beer on a Friday night, then you will LOVE this event as much as I do.

I’ve often said that full moons are the one thing in the world that continue to leave me with the same sense of wonder that I felt as a child at Christmas time. Multiple times I have been driving at night and unexpectedly come upon a full moon and gasped at the beauty of it. If remotely possible, I have been known to pull over, or, if at home (or at the beach!), to just sit and stare at it for a while. It sounds a bit odd to “watch” a seemingly non-moving object, but its brilliant beauty just leaves me awestruck. Although millions of people around the world obviously see its light 12 times every year, I still somehow feel it is a personal reminder to me each month of how much I’m loved by its Creator—I suppose simply because I love it so much. 🙂

So, all that to say, to have a monthly event in my hometown that is scheduled around a full moon with one of my favorite genres of music as the backdrop soundtrack just delights my heart! The Pickin’ Parties are held at the Warner Park Equestrian Center (off Old Hickory Blvd.) and the funds of ticket sales help support the Warner Parks. You can pack a picnic blanket or lawnchairs, bring food of your choosing, or get an excellent burger, biscuit sandwiches, or homemade s’mores (among many other options!) from a circle of food trucks. No outside alcohol is permitted, but your wristband gets you up to four draft beers from a variety of brews (water and soft drinks also included with price of admission). The seating tends to center around the bands on the main “stage” (side of the beautiful barn used for the horses during Steeplechase), but anyone can bring in an acoustic instrument (which lowers the ticket price for you!) and strike up an ensemble with other local musicians. It’s fascinating to me to see varied voices and instruments come together, speak the language of music and create magic. I love watching the joy on musicians’ faces as they give their gift of music to an equally joyful captive audience–you just can’t help but smile while listening to Bluegrass music 🙂

I truly, truly recommend trying out this event when it starts up in a few months! Especially on a clear, warm summer night, it is the perfect, happy ending to a long workweek. It feels grassroots, down home, small town, organically and authentically Nashville—all the ideals we hope to continue to see in our music city.

Leiper’s Fork. For anyone who’s been to this little spot on the map in Williamson County, that name will likely bring a smile to your face, with the simultaneous thought, “we should go again”. I have a friend who refers to it as her “happy place in Nashville”, and I couldn’t agree with her more. If flashy and booming is your style, it might not have the same appeal to you; for although it does draw a good crowd, it’s the simplicity and (very) small town, rustic charm that endear it to locals and tourists alike.

If you google Leiper’s Fork, the description that pops up is: “an unincorporated rural village”. Seeing it officially described as a village made me fall in love with it even more. Life just moves at a slower pace in the restaurants, antique shops and art galleries that sit along both sides of the few hundred feet of 46W that make up The Fork. Even when things are “busy” (e.g. if you have to park out past the Dukes of Hazard car on the edge of town, or if the Puckett’s outdoor seating area is full of Harley riders or groups of cyclists resting after a long spin on the nearby Natchez Trace), all still feels peaceful. Being there also feels a bit like a refreshing suspension of routine reality—like no one carries their daily stresses there with them, but rather just intentionally enjoys the friendly faces, the aromas of Southern cuisine, and the chance to stroll or sit while having an unhurried conversation. I realized I’ve never noticed speed limit signs at the edge of town (even though I’m sure they’re there); so it’s interesting to me that the traffic just automatically comes to a slow crawl as it approaches and drives through—it is pedestrian friendly which slows drivers down, but, as over-sentimental as it may sound, I swear there almost seems to be a sense of paying respect to a preservation of what we need life to be sometimes: uncomplicated, contented and carefree.

On out past Leiper’s Fork about 15 minutes is a small community called Santa Fe where my dad owned several acres with a pond and a dilapidated barn on it all during my growing up years. My dream as a child was to live out in the country, so I incessantly begged my parents to build a house on the land. Even though we never did build on the property, we would often go out there for picnics or to buy sweet treats at the old country store close by (which was next to a little white church and a community center). Those 3 buildings joined by a gravel road, nestled below rolling hills, and set back from a bubbling creek, are to this day my favorite place on earth. So, countless times over the years, on a blue-sky, sunny day, I have gotten up early, stopped for a coffee, rolled down the windows, turned up the music, and made the drive from wherever I’m living in Nashville, down Old Hillsboro Rd, through Leiper’s Fork, and on out towards Santa Fe. Sometimes I’ll sit at the picnic table by the creek and read and soak in the stillness and beauty; or, if time is short, I’ll turn around and head right back home. The joy for me is as much in the journey; the time to think and pray and sing on that length of road through the picturesque countryside delights and renews my soul. So although I’ve driven through Leiper’s Fork more often than I’ve actually stopped there, it is still a big piece of the puzzle of my most cherished stretch of Tennessee geography.

So if you’ve somehow never made it to Leiper’s, I highly recommend a cheeseburger from Puckett’s–I enjoy it best on a Saturday from 12-2pm with live music (and if you have a hearty appetite, start earlier with breakfast across the street at The Country Boy). Try to make it too to a live concert at the Lawnchair Theater (cozy, outdoor venue with white lights strung above the small grass seating area), or to the bustling Chili Cookoff in October. Regardless of what is or isn’t going on when you make it there, I promise you will still experience the essence of what keeps drawing us all back; and then you’ll find yourself wanting to go back too. 🙂

My love for Nashville extends beyond its city limits to the surrounding parts of Middle Tennessee. This mid-state region seems to be undisputedly equated with natural beauty. State Park signs appear to be almost as plenteous as the blue, metal food and gas signs at each exit for any interstate leaving Nashville. There is hiking, camping and sightseeing abundantly available for the outdoor lover. Although I have vivid memories as a child on family hikes where I was always bringing up the rear and slowing down my somewhat impatient, faster-paced siblings, I nonetheless learned to love being on trails in nature. I keep a faster pace now, but still intentionally slow myself down enough to take in the grandeur around me.

I was never picky about where I hiked as long as I was outside. But then I visited Burgess Falls last year (in Sparta) and fell in love with waterfalls! Reaching the falls felt equivalent to earning a prize at the end of a strenuous climb (or descent). In the secluded serenity of the cascading water, I almost could have imagined myself being in Hawaii (admittedly maybe only because I’ve never actually been there!), but was still amazed I was only a little over an hour from my front door. Later in the year I went to the falls at Rock Island State Park, and suddenly found myself setting a goal to see all the falls within (reasonable :))  driving distance of home.

So now I have checked Foster, Cummins, Greeter, Ozone, Rutledge, Cane Creek and Fall Creek Falls off the list. Still need to make it to Virgin Falls (and likely another one or two I may not know about yet!). A scenic drive, a picnic lunch, meeting a friend, and you have the makings of a perfect day. (Be prepared with a swimsuit too during warmer months—most have great swimming holes!)

I have occasionally hiked solo, and realized on my last venture out that I love the camaraderie that exists on the rocky trails going to or from the destination. I’ve always felt on my daily walks, (be it in a neighborhood, on a greenway, etc), that if you pass someone who is obviously in the same moment in history, at the same physical location, and participating in the same activity, that there should be a mutual acknowledgement of, and salutation to, the other individual. But that doesn’t seem to be a commonly held belief in the general world of routine exercisers. Yet on a cumbersome incline, with little breath to spare, the overwhelming majority of hikers seem happy to offer a smile, hello, or a word of encouragement to those who are losing stamina, or who need to ask, “are we almost there?” or, “which way is best?”

I always leave a hike marveling at the beauty that God created seemingly just for our sheer enjoyment. But I honestly also leave feeling more benevolence for the human race overall! Crazy as it sounds, when you can greet and encourage, or are greeted and encouraged by, that many strangers in a day, you can’t help but feel like a person who just generally loves people. Maybe it’s the endorphins that naturally flow from exercising, or maybe it’s that the simplest offering of a smile and a kind word, offered and received repeatedly over the varying distances of a loop trail, can leave your weary body with a full heart. 🙂

Having grown up in and near Nashville, I remember years back when Nolensville Road felt out of place to me in my otherwise familiar hometown. Or maybe it was more that I felt out of place because there wasn’t anything comfortingly predictable, like a Starbucks, in the midst of the international markets. But now every time I drive down it on my way to or from work, it serves as a reminder to me of how time and experience can completely change your perspective.

I first traveled internationally with my church youth group to Mexico at age 16. I was trying to use my few words of high school Spanish to help guide several lively and giggling little ones to complete their coloring page project. The joy I felt in using even the most elementary level of a different language to communicate with those beautiful children, wakened within me a determination to pursue proficiency in speaking Spanish. That trip was also my first taste of realizing the beauty of different: when a culture different from my own started to feel a little less unfamiliar.

Over the course of the next several years, I traveled on several short-term mission trips back to Mexico, to Honduras, Belize, Turkey, the Ukraine, Romania, Kenya, and India. The longest I stayed anywhere was a year and a half in Peru; and that’s where I finally realized my dream of studying and learning Spanish. With each country visited, with each person I met and quickly learned to love, and with each new flavor I tasted, there began to be less and less that felt foreign to me. My heart expanded significantly past the borders of Nashville, and it began to hold dear the grand design of how each culture uniquely reflects the beautiful creativity of its Grand Designer.

So now, driving down Nolensville Road feels familiar to me. I crave ethnic foods and appreciate that I can easily pick up Indian, Ethiopian, Persian, Korean or Thai carry out on the way home after a busy day at work. I love the convenience of getting authentic tacos from a variety of food trucks, and of occasionally treating myself to freshly fried papusas from a Papuseria (must try these if you haven’t!). I’m grateful I can buy a liter of drinkable yogurt, just like I got in Peru, at K & S World Market. (And I can tell you right where to go if you need a piñata or want a tres leches cake for a birthday party). My weekly staple is a white food truck parked in front of Cricket, just south of Haywood Ln (Michoacanos). My personal favorite and recommendation is their iced coffee—similar to a frapuccino, but it tastes just like the granitas I loved in Honduras. They also have freshly cut fruit combos (with or without chili powder on top), smoothies, rice pudding, and, I’m told, the best flan in Nashville. You can just point to what you want on the menu, and really only need to be prepared to say “gracias” and “delicioso”. 🙂

I love to get rid of things. Love. To. Get. Rid. Of. Things. It’s become a once or twice monthly ritual to take a small bag to the donation bin at Thrift Smart. I’ve learned over the years that “maybe I’ll need (or wear) this one day” means that I do not like it, will not use it, and should relinquish it to the world of savvy second-hand shoppers. It’s a freeing feeling to let go of s-t-u-f-f. (Though I’m constantly trying to find a balance of the sentimentality I feel for objects equated with memories, with the desire I feel to purge the extra and live clutter-free). The irony is that I also love to buy stuff. Love to buy stuff. Not buying for the sake of just owning more, but for the joy of finding a needed item or a special treasure at a bargain price. So I search the end-of-the-isle sales at Target, the reduced prices at TJ Maxx, and my favorite, the Nashville Flea Market.

Flea Markets are likely best loved by those who can both see potential in the not-yet-beautiful, AND who have the skill, artistry and patience to bring out that beauty. I did find an old dresser this year that I painted silver, (and felt very resourceful in reviving it!), but am admittedly not a DIY person. I see possibilities, but also fully appreciate the DIT (did it themselves), ready-to-purchase pieces. But I love that the broken can be made useful and the unloved can be made lovely in the right hands. Something about the vast array of the before-and-afters displayed by the various vendors serves as a visible analogy to me of the grander scale picture of beauty for ashes.

The Flea Market truly is the perfect mixture of the unfinished and the finished, the old and the made new, the mass produced and the one of a kind. Each month holds the possibility of finding something so unique, that I would likely be the only one to own it—something that would be a small reflection of who I am purely because I love it. But I’m also amused each month by pondering the extreme peculiarity of some items and wondering about the story of the person who would actually be interested in purchasing them. Who needs a 3-D, 6-foot metal bear? Who will be delighted to find the bench with car doors for sides? The assorted variety of goods, oddities and collectables offered for sale all endear me somehow to the individuality of the potential buyers I’m squeezing past and trying not to bump in to.

I own two dressers, a corner cabinet, a made-to-order couch, a ladder, and wood and metal decorative signs, all from Nashville’s Flea Market. I’ve also found new children’s books for presents, reduced-priced hygiene products, discounted perfume, local honey, handmade notecards and artisan jewelry. But as much as I love the home décor, gifts, and money-saving necessities I’ve bought, it is the experience of going and being there that I value the most. It’s you and hundreds of others, and yet you’re all there together, enduring the oppressive Tennessee heat or the chilly early winter winds, all searching the fairgrounds with anticipation of what might be found. I love seeing the walking-weary headed back to their cars with their purchases in hand, each with a look of accomplishment and satisfaction on their sunburnt faces—the $5 parking fee, the time, the hunting, the creative imagination—it all paid off. They now have a newly discovered treasure that will help them express to others, however simply or boldly, a little more clearly who they uniquely are.

First blog. First entry. Every blogger has their first. Mine happens to be today. 🙂 I love life, I love Nashville, and I love life in Nashville. I’m one of the few natives—there seemingly aren’t many of us here. I haven’t quite figured out if this town really is a launching pad for its homegrown, and a landing pad for newcomers, or if it’s just that we’re largely outnumbered by those who uproot from other cities and decide to put roots down here. But it’s the combination of the locals and the transplants that makes us uniquely us—so, I love all y’all. (As a native southerner, I admit I do use “y’all”, “I reckon”, and “bless your heart” regularly in conversation). Other than several years of my childhood spent living a few miles down 65S in the nearby town of Columbia (aka, the mule capital of the world), and a short stint living in South America, Nashville has always been home.

The risk of being a local is taking for granted all of the Music City attractions the tourists flock here to see and hear (and taste). Of course, we Nashvillians have our favorite spots that don’t necessarily make it on the visitor’s radar (e.g Baja Burrito and Phat Bites are my personal go-to restaurants here!). And we have the standard fare for large cities of beautiful parks, fun shopping, professional sports teams, major concert tours and great dining that can keep us all busy and content.

But for someone born and raised here, it took me way too long to finally make it out to America’s one and only, infamous Grand Ole Opry (even though I was right by it multiple times growing up since we regularly visited Opryland Theme Park as kids). I just always assumed I could and would make it there, so it was never a priority. But once I went for the first time last year, it felt like my soul fit there. You know that rare combination of a place and an experience that creates the perfect moment of happiness? That was me at the Opry. I’m not a musician, but music, especially live music, (and especially country music) delights my heart in a way nothing else does.

So, just over the past couple years, I’ve made a conscious decision to fully experience my hometown. I’m trying to make it to every music venue, every local coffee shop and brewery, to new restaurants (that is getting harder by the day to keep up with!), to various festivals and to all the within-driving-distance waterfalls (stretching a bit outside the city limits, but love the accessibility of the beautiful outdoors of middle TN!). I find myself wanting to share the joy of the things I love here, be it a walk at Radnor Lake, a cheeseburger at Puckett’s, or live Bluegrass at The Station Inn. Anyone who has been here for longer than a vacation has likely already experienced those gemstones of Nashville; but on the chance I can encourage or inspire anyone to more fully engage in the sights and tastes and sounds right outside your back door, then I’ll keep sharing what I find.

I know Nashville doesn’t need more hype. This will just be one girl’s story of being intentional about learning to bloom where she’s planted, and of somehow learning to know herself (and the God who always knew her) better, and to love life even more in the process.