Just returned from a weeklong trip south. When we left, the snow had melted and except for a few small patches in surface depressions, I could envision green grass and spring flowers just around the corner. Going south only enhanced my appetite for spring. We have had enough winter.
After numerous stops at antique malls and the artist and craft stop off the interstate in Berea, Kentucky (where, by the way, we saw daffodils just beginning to poke their heads up out of the ground), we arrived in Knoxville, Tennessee. Somewhere along the way, I had shed my winter coat and replaced it with a blue jean jacket.
The air was cool but held promise of warmth to come. We chose our hotel strategically to allow for walking to and from various venues. Our hotel is in the far left lower corner of the picture above.
Our first stop was not, however, walkable -- Patrick Sullivan's, a historic tavern established in 1888. Supposedly members of Butch Cassidy's gang and Wild Bill Cody frequented this bar and we definitely wanted to add our names to its clientele.
![Sullivans 001.jpg](http://blogs.knoxnews.com/knx/flory/assets_c/2010/07/Sullivans%20001-thumb-500x375-16125.jpg)
The bar was all I hoped it would be -- lots of wood, the original back bar, stairs that led to the brothel that once occupied the second floor. We enjoyed fried pickles, a sandwich, and a beer before walking around a bit in the immediate area. We were there on Sunday night which accounted for the quiet but it was easy to see that on a Friday and Saturday, this area would definitely be a draw for anyone looking for a good time.
From Sullivan's we headed back to our hotel, parked and then walked downtown, less than six blocks away. Yes, it was a Sunday evening but this area was much more lively. People were taking in a show at the Tennessee and enjoying food and beverage at various restaurants along the main street. The night air was light jacket cool and dry, a pleasant evening for walking. Before leaving Sullivan's we had asked the bartender for her recommended destinations if she only had time for two more stops before turning in for the night. We had already planned on the local brew pub she mentioned and she added Preservation Bar.
Our first stop was the Downtown Grill and Brewery. As is our habit at brew pubs, we sat at the bar. Tables are fine for dining but the bar is best for meeting people and getting inside information from the bartender. We ordered a beer sampler and were in the midst of comparing, not only one beer with another but each beer with beer we had had a other such establishments, the gentleman beside me shared his personal preferences. We talked about beer and Knoxville for a brief while. As he finished his drink, he wished us a good journey and headed off into the night. For the most part, the beer was nondescript. I preferred the IPA and Roger enjoyed the wheat beer. Since we didn't eat there, I can't speak to the quality of the food but it sure smelled good.
Downtown Grill and Brewery, Knoxville, Tennessee
Our final stop for the night, Preservation Bar, was located around the market square, just a couple blocks away. Smaller and older and darker and smoky, it better met the standard definition of a bar. Mostly male occupied and the bar full, we sat at a table and read the historic information posted on the walls. Band members were coming in with their instuments getting ready for a late night show. We may have stayed longer had the music been jazz but as it wasn't and the smoke was getting to us so we left before finishing our beer.
Outside a small impromptu band was playing in the empty square. Had it been earlier we might have stayed to enjoy their version of southern country music. Instead we meandered our way back to our hotel. All in all I'd say Knoxville was a welcoming city offering picturesque architecture, good food, and the potential of a great evening if we had been there on a Friday or Saturday. As it was, it made for a pleasant Sunday evening.
Our next stop was Atlanta, a city we've visited a number of times before. Staying only the night, we chose to stay in Buckhead and enjoy Club 290. Though night, the weather was warm enough to shed the jackets. The music at Club 290 (unfortunately, I deleted the photo by accident) was Joe Gransden Big Band, seventeen members, with male vocalists -- Joe, who also played the trumpet and a guest. Both men sang well, smooth jazz. The guest did a nice impression of Presley and Sinatra. The band was great. We dined at Club 290 and enjoyed our meal though I would probably not order a steak there next time. We stayed through the last set which is a testimony to how much we enjoyed ourselves.
The following morning we had breakfast at The Flying Biscuit. Organic, homemade, the breakfast was good but I can't say that I enjoyed their namesake that well. I prefer my biscuits light and flakey and this one was huge, dense, and heavy. The taste was fine though.
After a number of antique stops, we finally pulled into Mom's driveway in Port Charlotte. The sky was clear and the air warm. Mom was ready and waiting for us so we didn't waste any time heading to dinner. I love this little Italian restaurant. The food is good. The price is right. And the decor is wonderful, a little Italy with a starry sky. We were serenaded at some point with That's Amore and received a long stem rose as a souvenir. Roger headed farther south to see his brother and I stayed to visit with Mom. The pictures below are typical of the weather and the views.
Roger returned two days later and the following morning we were back on the road heading north. The song talks about the difference a day makes. I don't know about that but a week sure does. Look at how spring has progressed as we retraced our path.
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Early spring in Georgia. The grass was green and the buds on the trees were more than a faint haze of greens and reds. Tennessee, while not as green, now sported trees with buds ready to unfold.
We saw daffodils in bloom in Georgia and even in Tennessee.
Pansies were happily turning their faces to the sun, also.
Kentucky wasn't quite as far along but that faint haze I referred to earlier that was seen in Tennessee on our way down had made its way to Kentucky.
So had the rain. In Ohio, we saw lots of flooding with evidence of snow not there on our way south.
And finally, we arrived home. Imagine our shock when we found the ground not only covered with snow but with inches of snow. Our driveway had at least five inches! Rather than drive in, we parked on the side of the street, got out our snow shovels, and began to clear away heavy, crusty, wet snow. It was the hardest snow clearing job we've had to do all year but it was also necessary. Had we tried to drive up, I'm certain we would have gotten stuck.
So, spring isn't in Ann Arbor yet. Today it's 40 degrees out and there is some melting taking place. It will take a couple more days of this to once again see the ground. I'm hoping that it's the last snow of the year and that in another week or so, I will see evidence of the hundred of daffodils we planted last fall. As for the trip, it was great but it left me with little appetite for snow and ravenous for spring.