BOONE NORTH CAROLINA

Before leaving Greenville, we decided to go out for breakfast. It was Mother's Day and I had been hankering for pecan waffles with pecan syrup, a fave years back when Shoneys Restaurants could be found on every highway throughout the South.
I've seen  two Shoneys on the road.  Since the Waffle House chain is dominant-my thought was it must have replaced the Shoneys.
A Shoneys it ain't. Pecan waffles? Yes, but no pecan syrup, that wonderful warm concoction with real butter that sent your taste buds to heaven.

It was a cramped place, efficiently run. Jim noted he hadn't been in a "holler" restaurant in years. Holler as in shouting the order in waitress lingo across the floor fifty feet away to the cook. Saves steps. You could see every bit of the operation from the coffee crew, egg man, the dish washing cycle, and carry outs. The plastic menu is limited. Their bragging coffee has a ground bean toughness to it, but the waffle wasn't short on pecans. Its what you call a "cover the basics" kind of place. Get 'em in and get 'em out. What it lacked in atmosphere, we concluded, it made up in cut-to-the-bone economy. You don't leave hungry or broke, but you can't say you really enjoyed the experience.
From Greenville, we drove to Boone, N.C. Good historical records prove Daniel Boone actually hunted in this area named for him. Its a hilly town and it took us several try's before we found a suitably level parking spot for the night. One of the "famous" Mast General Stores, made notable by Charles Kuralt in his Backroads television program, proclaimed a Mast Store to be a "destination."

They specialize in folksy goods, along with the usual general store fare. The wide plank wooden floors are to envy.  I could have taken every one of these chickens back home to replace those the hawk ate way back in 1989.

I couldn't believe the old fashioned coke machine where you open up the lid and reach in for a bottle. The inside machinery that scooted the bottles along was missing, but it gave me a sweep of nostalgia. Don't we all just love things that are quaint?

It had two floors with everything from toys to shoes but my favorite item, (oh that it could have fit in the motor home), was this comfortable, beautiful rocking chair.

Log cabins also fill me with nostalgia because I lived in one until I was nine years old.  This is supposed to be a picture of my brother but the cabin shows pretty well in the background.
 Boone Ridge had a slew of log cabins from different eras. All are authentic domiciles from the area moved to this one spot to be saved from the inevitable forces of nature.

 

I never had to chop wood, but I remember all too clearly the old outdoor toilets, my dad butchering chickens and pigs, hauling water from the well . My job was picking up chips around the chopping block to be used for kindling. Reliving the past is fun occasionally as long as I don't ever have to actually live it.