The Mary Sack Trip: Day One

Nashville awaits, slippers confound

Ok, I’m feeling bit more mmmm, whole today if that makes any sense. Ernie’s pain did ease up somewhat yesterday so we made it to the oral surgeon’s consult and man, I really, really like him (Jonathan Bailey at Carle). He wants to do a CT scan to see what’s what and I’m reassured by that. He gave us a sense of confidence and trust in him and lord knows that counts for so much.

As I said, Ernie’s pain did ease up somewhat. He wondered whether it could be because of the new shoes he’s been wearing. He switched to his old shoes and we will see if that makes any difference. Why was he wearing new shoes you ask?

Last Monday, we were about an hour out of town, on our way to Nashville, when I looked over at Ernie and he had an absolutely horrified expression on his face with one hand clamped over his mouth. I immediately thought he was going to vomit because, you know, it happens, and I wondered if I had vomit bags in my purse. I thought about diving for the vomit bags but instead said, “What? What? WHAT?” at increasing decibel levels. He looked at me and whispered, “my slippers.” Yes, he was still wearing his slippers. After we finished laughing, well, me more so than him, we considered options. We could turn around and go home, adding two extra hours to our trip, or we could go with my preferred Option B, which was to find a Target off the highway and order some shoes for curbside pick up. I figured if they didn’t fit we’d just find another Target down the road. Option B worked just fine. Please admire Ernie’s new pair of $19 shoes.

We meandered down the road. I get antsy if we’re on the interstate too long so we got off onto some smaller roads. I was rather smitten with this little bar in Brookport, Illinois with its metal awning. There was something beautiful and endearing about those curlicue supports.

I was NOT similarly smitten with this bridge from Brookport to Paducah. NOT AT ALL. And it went on and on and on and on. Kinda beautiful but way too much like the St. Francisville Horror otherwise known as Cannonball Bridge.

These little igloo looking things were part of the former Mini-Mo Motel in Paducah. If anybody can enlighten me I would love to know more.

Everybody needs a concrete teepee former liquor store, no?

We wandered along, stopping to see this wonderful sign. We’d thought of stopping for a late lunch but there wasn’t even a whiff of barbecue in the air so we drove on.

Belew’s Dairy Bar was still closed for the season but looking jaunty despite that.

Heather had provided us with road snacks and they were heavenly. Little energy balls full of dates, pecans, and cherries if I’m not mistaken. I wish everybody had a Heather.

We traveled on crossing the bridges of the Land between the Lakes. We stopped in Canton and admired the Red Brick Inn. Built in 1819 along the Cumberland River there was something about the location and setting that made one feel the history. The hotel was built long before the area was flooded to create the recreational area of Land Between the Lakes. The General Marquis de Lafayette was given a reception at the hotel in 1825 when he stopped to rest while going from St. Louis to Nashville! Until the railroads moved in, Canton was one of the oldest and most important trading posts on the Cumberland. Now a tiny, seemingly forgotten little spot off Route 68.

It was a hotel until the 1930’s, then a private residence, now a bed and breakfast.

c. 1980

Sitting not far from it.

After that we pretty much gave up and got on the interstate. Nashville was calling. We ordered some food and collapsed while Joe (the shillelagh) waited patiently.

Onward.

Love,
Cynthia