on the sublime (another post about mountains)

I was new in town, trying not to use my GPS, and not sure where I would end up. Just wandering.

I took in fields, barns, and windy roads while I sang along with Bethany Dillon, “our God is faithful!” Then out of what seemed like nowhere I saw a shiny lake sitting at the feet of mountains. I rolled down the windows and stuck my hand into the warm August air. I wanted to touch them. I pulled over at the lakeside recreational area and stood beside my car for what seemed like an hour, although it was probably five minutes, munching on some fruit snacks and smiling. I slipped my shoes off and felt the grass between my toes -- the warm, tickly, mountain grass. The families enjoying picnics must have thought I was a loon. I didn’t care. I wanted to wrap my arms around the mountains and hold them forever.

This is why I live in TN.

This picture does no justice to the view from the top of The Chimneys.

Sunset over the Great Smoky Mountains

what exactly does that mean?

I've decided some people just don't think about what they're saying. These are mostly things often said to people like myself, people who are young and unattached and doing well just to eat a balanced meal every couple of days.

on a slightly prettier note

I hate when my most recent blog entry happens to seem a little blue... so I decided I needed to fix that.

Who of you out there in blog-land has ever played the game of Pit? My life was definitely changed last night in this loud, pushy, selfish commodity-trading game. I love games that force me to be the opposite of who I really am! I am neither loud nor pushy, although sometimes a bit selfish -- quietly selfish, but selfish nonetheless.

Equally useful in reminding us of our real selves are the old friends who made us so. Nothing is more soothing to a wandering soul than a visit with someone broken-in and cozy, and better yet, two someones! In a town that as of right now is filled with many many familiar strangers, I was delighted to have house guests from Georgia this weekend. Bless them for wandering downtown Knoxville, hiking to Grotto Falls, and lounging on the sofa with me. I'm so glad we're all so different, because being together reminds me that we're really all so different -- you remind me of who I am. For that I must give you credit.

Time to go to class now and learn how to make a pronunciation syllabus. I can't wait to be a good teacher.

Sunday Afternoon

      There is nothing like a Sunday afternoon nap on the couch after a big, greasy lunch from your local truckstop diner. These are the things I miss about home -- the excitement of seeing "country fried steak" on the daily special menu, the sunset the way it looks from our living room, the puppy licking my hand to let me know I'm the only one in the house still asleep... even the smell of horses and chickens (and donkey) and the nasty scratches on my legs because my dog is happy to see me. There is nothing like a few weeks at home after a long, stressful year filled with too much work and many good times, and not enough chances to breathe it all in before it suddenly and finally came to an end.

ch-ch-changin...

I don't want to seem like I always write about myself, but I was thinking back over everything I did this week -- most of which was the usual routine -- and it blows my mind a little bit.