Mystic Falls

My daughter and I have recently become fans of The Vampire Diaries (TVD). We had such a wonderful girls day out exploring Mystic Falls I thought I would share our experience with you. 

For those who do not already know Mystic Falls is actually located in Covington, GA. My daughter lives in Birmingham. I spent the night with her so we could head out early the following morning. It is a 3 hour drive from her apartment plus we needed to factor in the hour time difference. I must admit, only the thought of Ian Somerhalder could get me out of bed at 3:30 on a raining morning.

We promptly arrive at 9:05. Our scheduled tour is set for 10. We decide to pull into the local Chick-Fil-A for breakfast. I'm not going to lie, we also needed to freshen our makeup. You never know who you might see. Our trip was on a Monday. The previous Friday TVD had actually been filming in the town square. The town itself reminded me of home. Visually just the same in so many ways. As we entered Chick-Fil-A we were immediately welcomed by the friendly staff and several regulars. Two older gentleman took a seat beside us. I found it odd that they didn't immediately recognize us as vampire stalkers. They struck up conversation as to why in town and pointed out some local places on down the road with historical significance. These two guys could have also cared less about vampires. They shared stories of their friends, wives and normal everyday life.  Upon walking out the door I suddenly felt adopted by the town of Covington. I will stop in for breakfast every time I come through town just to visit. 

What had began as a raining morning turned into a cloudy morning. I booked a tour through Vampire Stalkers Mystic Falls Tours. We met up with our tour guide Chloe downtown at the visitors center. I will not break down the entire tour because Chloe does a much better job than I. She knows her stuff. She also has personal experience with the actors, has been a stand in and played as an extra in many episodes. Since filming was done on Friday we missed out on that action. However you never know when you might get lucky. Shout out to TheGilbertHouse for allowing us to take pics with   Mojo on their front porch.  The ability to see these homes in person and the kindness of the neighborhood is amazing. Vampire Stalkers also has a store with many cool items including autographs. Any fan of TVD will absolutely love this tour. Check them out online to shop and book a tour!!  

While we toured the square Chloe pointed out the favorite eating places of the actors. I will be returning  to make sure I try them all. For lunch we decided to try Bradley's BBQ. Super friendly staff. I know you are going to get tired of me saying just how friendly people are, but it is so true! The food was out of this world. I had the vamped up sandwich and my daughter had the pulled chicken sandwich vamped. All I can think of  to say is AWESOME. 

After lunch we had a couple of hours before the Mystic Grill opened for dinner. Now this was a must do on our list. Up until a couple of months ago there was no actual Mystic Grill. It was just an empty building used for filming. We decided to head up the road to Conyers to check out the voodoo shop and some sites used for The Originals. That will be a tour I will take later this summer. We spent an hour in Conyers before returning to downtown Covington. We still had time to spare so we just took in all the charm the town square had to offer. 

The Mystic Grill was well worth the wait. The inside is so beautiful. The first thing you notice is the beauty of the woodwork. Our server Nick was very informative and super sweet. I began with a Vampire Kiss cocktail. It was to die for. My daughter chose to go with the fried pickles as an appetizer. Let me tell you, I don't like pickles. Can't stand them. I pick them off of everything. Well I gave one of these little crispy things a try and fell in love. The dipping sauce was yummy. As of now I will eat pickles but only fried ones from the Mystic Grill. My daughter chose the chicken with garlic potatoes for her main course. I chose the fried meatloaf. The presentation was impeccable. Food was super delicious. We cleaned our plates and moved on to dessert. My daughter claimed she didn't like pecan pie. I talked her into sharing the rum pecan pie with caramel salted ice cream. She liked it. So one of us didn't like pickles, yet ate them here. The other didn't like pecan pie yet ate it here as well. This alone should be enough reason for you to take the time to dine at the Mystic Grill. Our dining experience wasn't over yet. Nick suggested we take a tour of the place since there wasn't a crowd present. We took him up on the offer. A hostess was standing on the second level lounge area. She was more than happy give us a tour. Upstairs is a relaxing waiting area with bar. If you have to wait on your table, you wait in style. Off to the side is a banquet room which has a tv for viewing the TVD ;-) and seats 25 people. The most amazing aspect of this room is the wall. Pictures do not do justice to the beauty. The wall is made up of old recycled doors. At the end of the banquet room there is a little balcony which can be accessed via hallway as well. It overlooks the downstairs bar area. Nice little touch. There is still more to be seen.  Out the door to the roof is the construction of a bar/entertainment area in progress. I personally am looking forward to returning and spending a nice evening relaxing on the roof.  As with everyone else we met in town, we got to know our hostess very well. She was so friendly and personable. I want to take a brief moment to wish her well on graduation this spring and good luck at UG :-)  A trip to the grill wasn't complete without buying a tshirt on our way out the door.  Folks I would drive hours just to go here and dine anytime. 

As we are walking to the car my daughter tells me how much she loves this town. To the extent she is already thinking wedding here then house buying. We discuss how extremely nice and friendly every single person was that we met. It reminded me of a SyFy movie where the town is as sweet as syrup but they are luring you to sacrifice. In the end no sacrifice was necessary to enjoy this pleasant town. We made it out safe and plan to return often :-) 

http://www.mysticfallstours.com

follow @mysticfalls_res on Twitter for cool pics and the dirt going on in MysticFalls

http://bradleysbbq.com

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mystic-Grill-Restaurant/680471368635114?rf=116247568452988

follow @EyeofNewt68  on Twitter for TheGilbertHouse fun

Nannie's Butterscotch Pies

Childhood favorite of mine. My grandmother would make whole pies during the holidays just for me to take home.

Ingredients

2 cups brown sugar

1 cup white sugar

3 1/2 cups sweet milk

9 tablespoons flour

6 eggs (2 for filling; 4 whites on top)

butter size of egg for each pie

vanilla flavoring

Mix brown & white sugar and flour together. Beat eggs until lemon colored. Gradually mix in dry mix . Add milk and butter cut in small pieces. Cook in double boiler until thick enough to stand up. Remove from fire and add flavoring. Pour in cooked pie shell. Use 4 egg whites for meringue. 

Hunt for Bow Strings (with No Help from Man)

 A couple of months ago our new cat chewed the string apart on my son's bow and arrow. The bow was a Christmas gift almost two years old, but used quite often. Being it was his first bow it was fairly cheap($60). Well as the tears begin to fall from my lil guy's face, I take to Amazon.com to find replacement strings. It's just strings, how hard can this be? I did manage to find one style but wasn't the one I needed. The price, 6.95. With chewed strings in hand I make a trip to Academy Sports. No strings to be found. The gentleman was nice enough to refer me to Wiley's which was on my way out of town. 

Upon walking into the store, I see the bow section in the back. I stand at the counter for over 5 minutes while the man behind the counter proceeds to ignore me. Another man walks up whom he quickly acknowledges. I'm already running late and now I'm getting angry. I butt into the conversation (after all I have been standing there getting ignored for almost 10 minutes). The worker tells me that they do not have strings. I need to bring the bow in and have him professionally string it himself. Bear in mind, the bow only cost $60 at the most to begin with now he wants me to pay him to professionally string the cheap thing....No Thank You. 

The following week I see a bow just like the one with the missing string on sale at Sports Authority. I make a trip in and they are all sold out. Thankfully I run into my friends husband who works there. He tells me to go to Dicks and ask for this gentleman he knows. I go to Dicks and once again in a dept full of men I'm totally ignored. I find a different bow I decide to purchase. I get home and it is too hard for my son to use. 

I decide to once again resort to the internet. I type in the name of our bow and finally find ONE website that has what appears to be the same. As I'm about to purchase the bow I see there  a link for replacement strings. They were 6.95. I ordered them. Fearing that I would have to have the bow pressed like the man in Wileys, the man in Sports Authority and my step brother kept telling me, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to fix the bow. A week later the strings arrive. I pull them out of the package and place one loop on one end and a loop on the other and TAA DAAA a fixed bow. Yes it was that simple. Every man I spoke with kept telling me that it was a complicated procedure even after I told them it was just a cheap bow not used for hunting.

Bottom line is they would not listen to what I was saying. I just wanted strings to put in a bow so my son could shoot it in the backyard. I didn't want it so tight he couldn't pull it back. I wanted it just like it was before. For 6.95 and an internet order, I finally succeeded.

The Schnitzel Experiment

I am a woman. I have hundreds of recipes on Pinterest. I watch foodie shows and know the names of the major Chefs. Therefore, I can cook....right???  Such was my mindset until this morning when I realized all is not as it seems. 

Two days ago I was in bed watching some food show. A guy was showing how to make schnitzel. That is when I realized how simple it would be for me. After all, it is only a banged up fried pork chop. Just for back up I went to google for a step by step recipe. Foolproof. Right???  

Today was the day. I decided to cook lunch for my older son and myself since we would be at the fair this evening. I found that the pounding of the pork chop was actually very therapeutic. As I was pounding I sent my oldest to the store. Bless him of little faith, he chose to have a Sonic burger instead of my wonderfully thought out lunch...Anywho, back to the task at hand. I didn't have any panko on hand but I did have bread crumbs. I pounded the chops, dredged them, and plopped them into a pan on med high heat per instructions. Almost immediately the bread crumbs turned black. That wasn't suppose to happen. I turn the heat down and continue to attempt frying the thinly pieces of pork. In the back of my head all I can think of is food poisoning if I don't cook pork properly. If I cook them any longer my pan will ignite. Even as I decrease the heat the chops continue to turn black. I go back to Pinterest to double check recipe. I did everything as told. Maybe it would taste better than it looks. Now it is time to start the sauce. I have already decided that there is no deglazing a burned pan so I resort to a sauce pan. All is required is chicken stock, sour cream with dill and do not boil. I mix the sour cream in and it doesn't dissolve. I have lumps everywhere. By this time I feel like a complete failure.  I still have stock and sour cream left so why not check out deglazing the pan. Well as soon as the stock hits the pan it smells wonderful. The only unappealing effect was the big black dots floating. 

The moral of the story is stick to good ole southern cooking like grandma taught. 

This is what it should look like

This is what mine looked like.

Christmas Blessings

I have to admit, I was late catching the Christmas spirit this year. I can't pinpoint why but the warm weather in the South doesn't help. It wasn't just the weather, Christmas just seemed to get here too fast. Normally I enjoy each and every day with baking, shopping etc. My attitude completely changed right before the big day.

While I might have been late catching the spirit my son wasn't. He was excited every day at school with the ornament making and movie watching. He even reminded me that we need to make the trip to Santa's Village. It was then that I began to notice he was into the season more than I can ever remember. He excitedly told Santa his list being sure to include something for his new kitten. We enjoyed a wonderful evening in the Village.  We returned home and he kept the spirit where my dwindled a bit.

In the days leading up to Christmas I had a friend loose a daughter, another loose a grandmother, family friend in the hospital with serious issues and my daughter's friend in the hospital fighting for his life. I have all this on my mind as I am in the living room on Christmas Eve. My son walks in  beaming from ear to ear. Then it hits me: the small things.

I cherished every moment of present opening, the hours of watching him play the wii....even the silliness of a lil boy passing gas and laughing his head off. The things that would normally annoy me became the most precious gifts. For the first year ever, my son was excited about leaving a note and cookies for Santa. He even made sure I cut up enough apple for the reindeers.

With so much loss in the last two weeks I am reminded of just how wonderful every moment is in life. School is out for  Christmas break and I can promise you I am going to love the lego mess in the dining room, the board games in the living room, the dirty clothes left in the bathroom, the Xbox blaring from the bedroom...after all it is the little things I am so thankful I have the opportunity to enjoy.

The Amazing School Bus

When Blake first started school he wanted to ride the school bus so bad. It was something he had always looked forward to doing once he was a "big boy" in Kindergarten. The problem was we lived directly across from the school. I had to repeatedly explain how it wasn't logical for the bus to carry him across the street. He was heartbroken for weeks.That summer we moved.

Moving far enough for him to ride the bus was a big selling point. For me it was a bittersweet experience. As much as I didn't like being close to a busy intersection, I actually liked the convenience of being close to school. The first day of school comes around for my big first grade boy. The first day or two I drive him in the mornings and pick him up in the afternoons. After a couple of trips I decide all this driving is for the birds. Blake finally gets his wish to ride the school bus. I admit it was selfish reasoning on my behalf. I was tired of buying gas, not to mention, having to get out and drive that early in the morning when I could go back to bed. I still continued to pick him up in the afternoons. The mom in me was still worried he would not get off the bus at the house. It is a good thing because every afternoon he would fall asleep on the way home. We only had one incident that year where the bus driver failed to stop. Blake was upset; however, I was able to explain that she couldn't see him standing there due to him wearing a camouflage coat.

This arrangement carries on over to second grade. He rides the bus in mornings. I pick up in afternoon. I might need to mention that Blake is not a morning person. Seriously, he is dressed minutes before pick up time. I was running late one afternoon therefore my sister did pick up duty. She calls me the next morning to ask if Blake had told me what happened to him the previous morning. Of course, I have heard nothing. I brace myself. It seems that Blake not only sleeps in the afternoons on the way home, but he also sleeps on the bus to school. He was asleep and did not get off at the elementary school. He awoke at the high school. Apparently a teacher had to drive him back to his school. Once I ask, Blake confirms the story. He says he told his Nannie (great grandmother, age 88) that afternoon. Sure enough, he did but she assumed he was telling her a story since he whispered it in her ear. 

Needless to say, the amazing school bus isn't so amazing anymore. I sorta blame myself as a mom. I should make him go to bed earlier. I should make him get up earlier. What are the chances of the same thing happening once again?? The mom in me fears it is very likely.  Now I'm back to dropping him off in the mornings (while I'm still in pjs and robe) and picking up in afternoon. It was a nice ride while it lasted.

The Crusty Bellybutton

Just when I think things are going smoothly there is something else. Yesterday we are rushing to get dressed before the bus. I'm sitting on the couch making sure Blake has his shirt on right, pants buttoned the normal drill. I lift his shirt and to my amazement his bellybutton is brown. It reminded me of when the cord comes off a newborn. I had a what the??? moment. I know he's been bathing. In fact he spends too much time in the tub with all his toys. How is this possible that he could have so much crud in his button area???? The terrible parent feeling emerges. There is no time to deal. Bus will be here in three minutes so I send him on out with the promise he is going to scrub his bellybutton when he gets home.

All day long I'm wondering how this could have happened. I even considered googling how to remove dirty crust from little boy's belly button. I never actually did with fear that someone would run across my search history.

Afternoon arrives and we are busy getting ready for scout meeting. Once we finally are settling in at home for bath time I decide that I'm going to use alcohol to swab it first. To my amazement the swab starts turning purple. Another what the moment. At this point Blake starts giggle. I keep swabbing and the "crust" is easily coming off making the swab even more purple. My son finally tells me that it is marker. Relief floods me. He wasn't so dirty that he crusted over. I wasn't a horrible mother who didn't realize her son was filthy. Nothing to be guilty over. I was so elated I could have cared less that he used a marker to color his belly button.