The Best of the North Georgia Mountains Issue 18 (Feb. 3, 2016)

Love rolls

into town!

I LOVE YOU!

ISSUE #18

LOVE IS IN THE AIR! We’re new, but already crazy about this paper!

It’s appropriate that this issue of The Best of the North Georgia Mountains has an underlying theme of “love.”

Because love is exactly what my family and I have felt from our readers, talented staff writers, dedicated delivery crew, and loyal advertisers who have so kindly welcomed us into the flock after we purchased this FunPaper from founders Robb and Thia Newman.

While we’ve only been involved with the paper since October, it seems like we’ve been a part of the North Georgia mountains for years.

We’ve already met a lot of great folks in each of the towns we serve, including several business owners who are just starting out - folks like Henry at the Alpine Deli in Blue Ridge and Cynthia at Pets on Main, Richard at New Ground Market, and Jan at Walls of Books, all in Ellijay. And just a couple of weeks ago, we had a nice chat one Saturday afternoon with Todd Redman of Coach’s Cuts Hoagies, who’s getting ready to celebrate his first anniversary in Jasper. We haven’t known any of these folks for very long, but already we’re pulling like crazy for their businesses to be a great success! We highly recommend our readers give them and all our other advertisers a try; you’ll be glad you did! Tell them you found about them in The Best of the North Georgia Mountains!

Of course, our many long-time advertisers like Steve at Shane’s Rib Shack and Colette and Charlie at Charlie’s Italian Restaurant & Pizzeria, and Nathan of ETC, all in Ellijay, Mike and Donna at Mike’s BBQ in Blue Ridge, and Rocco at Rocco’s in Jasper, among so many others, already know that this paper will do all we can to help them continue in their quest for financial success.

We’re also thrilled with our reception in our hometown of Calhoun and encourage all of our readers to try out some of the great businesses there, too!

As we all begin a new year together, rest assured that, as The Carpenters used to sing, “We’ve only just begun!”

By MITCH TALLEY

A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.

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Rule 1 for a Happy Marriage: Never both be angry at the same time.

Relationships last longer because two people made a choice to keep it, fight for it, and work for it.

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Walking into Gwinnett County Animal Control, my wife began her search for the dog we’d picked out just a week earlier, “Tank,” a beautiful, powerfully built German Shepherd with deep brown eyes and sable to black coat.

A week earlier, while traveling back from my parents’ house in Athens, we decided to stop by Animal Control and visit. We weren’t really looking for another dog but always felt that – even if we can’t adopt, we can at least visit and spend some time with the dogs. Hoping, maybe, that what small amount of socialization and kindness we provided would perhaps help improve their chances of adoption. And, for those dogs that have been abused, we could reassure them that not all people are bad and that, one day, they would have the loving home they so richly deserve.

Tank was alone, a kennel to himself.

Afraid of others – dogs and people alike, shy and obviously a victim of abuse or neglect. We spent what felt like an eternity trying to coax him to the kennel door just so we could pet his nose, smile and say some kind words.

With my wife and me sitting on the other side of the kennel door, Tank began to crawl across the cold, gray concrete, inches at a time, to just beyond the reach of our outstretched fingers that we’d crammed through the chain link fence as far as our threshold for pain would allow.

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Lynch was a friend to us through it all

Don’t change for anyone. People will love you for who you are, or you don’t need them in your life.

We weren’t looking to adopt another dog and certainly didn’t need to adopt another dog but we instantly fell in love with Tank. We asked about adoption and were told that there was a seven-day waiting period to monitor for health and disease risks.

Fast forward. My wife returns to Gwinnett County Animal Control on Saturday, Day 8. I’m working that day so she goes at it alone.

Going directly to the kennel in which Tank had been, he was gone. Asking the site manager about Tank, my wife was told he was adopted a day earlier, on Day 7.

Crushed and disappointed, she pauses - if for no reason other than to give the site manager an opportunity to say that she misspoke and that Tank had been moved to another kennel. Those words never come.

My wife turns to leave and notices a row of 10 kennels, set aside from the rest and to the right of the exit door.

“Why are these dogs separated from the others?”

“Sadly I have to say this but these are the dogs whose time is up. They are to be euthanized if they don’t find homes today. More dogs will be here next week, and room just isn’t available to house them all. It’s an awful situation but there’s just more dogs in need of homes than we can handle.”

My wife walks towards the row of 10. Beautiful dogs, all of them. Any one of them would make a loving family pet.

“Would you like to take one for a walk?”

“Yes, but…honestly, how do you even decide?” my wife’s voice cracking as she tries to swallow the tears bubbling in her eyes.

Staring towards the row of 10, blankly and more so at the hopelessness of the situation than anything else, “I just wish I could give homes to them all.” This said to herself, or perhaps forgetting or just simply not caring who could hear her plea.

At the end of the row of 10 – almost hidden by an opened storage room door which virtually covered the kennel’s chain link gate entrance, there’s silence. No scuffling of paws. No barking.

My wife walks toward the kennel, slowly. Reaching for the blocking door, she pushes it closed.

There, in the shadows of the furthest corner of the most remote kennel in the row of 10, sat a dog. Sitting upright, head-tilted, body still. My wife describes his expression as smiling but, knowing him as I do, there was much more there than just an innocent smile.

When I gaze deep into your mind, I am met with the beauty of a thousand diamonds.

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And, I say “dog” because if there’s a picture of a generic “dog” in the dictionary, it was this one. Medium sized, mostly black with traces of white and brown markings on chest and face.

Hair neither short nor long. A mutt from a million gene pools and genetic configurations to be sure.

“Excuse me, but I’d like to take this one for a walk.”

“Really?” the site manager says, clearly surprised by the choice. “That one? I can’t say anyone’s paid more than a second of attention to him since he got here.”

My wife describes the initial walk as a test of wills, a tug of war, a battle of attrition. The dog’s demeanor being indifferent and aloof to put it kindly.

“I’ll take him!”

“May I ask why?” the site manager questions. “There’s other dogs here that are better on a leash, more friendly – would probably make a better forever pet. And, to be honest, that dog is just a little strange.”

My wife, who is as compassionate as she is determined, replies, “I know. The other dogs have a better chance of being adopted. This one won’t make it past Monday. I want to give this one a home.”

Looking like he’d just won the lottery, “Lynch” (that was what the shelter said his name was but he was just as responsive to it as any other name at that point), sits proudly upright in the front seat. That smile from the kennel was there. A wry, sly smile – one more likened to a professional con man who just got one over on someone than a sweet, happy dog who’d just found a home.

That evening, I pull into the driveway. There, in the front yard, I see my wife tethered to the railing of the front porch with one arm and, in the other, she holds a leash. Now, what exactly was on the other end of that leash I couldn’t tell as – whatever it was, it was deep within the neighbor’s azalea bushes wreaking havoc on all things floral.

Laughing, I say, “So, is Tank making friends with the neighbors?”

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“Not exactly.”

I walk towards the bushes with the intention of bringing some calm to the impromptu doggie landscaping project.

That’s when I first saw Lynch.

A blackish, brownish, whitish blur bursts from the neighbor’s azaleas as if shot out of a cannon. This to my right, which was unfortunate as the leash was to my left.

“Lynch!” my wife screams, (and, for the record, this would certainly not be the last time his name would be said at high volumes). Her arm breaks free of the porch post, pulling her to the ground while the leash wraps my legs and the furry blur dashes behind me.

Tripping, I stumble forward and fall into the neighbor’s azaleas. Rolling over, I can see a view of my front yard never seen before – as this was the first time I’d ever ventured into the neighbor’s azaleas of course.

My wife is lying on the ground, wrapped in a dog leash and missing a shoe. To her side, sat “Lynch.”

Smiling.

Rule 2 for a Happy Marriage: Never yell at each other unless the house is on fire.

“Love isn’t something you find. Love is something that finds you.” - Loretta Young

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Lynch was approximately 1½ years old the day he destroyed the azaleas. This was in the spring of 2000.

Early on, he didn’t much listen - or rather only listened when he wanted to, wasn’t really a fan of hiking and knew a trick or two but did them only when he was in the appropriate mood.

Really, his first couple years consisted of – as I remember, smacking this rubber squeaky fish around and about his head.

Yes, this dog toy was a fish – a flounder if I had to determine species, and Lynch would bite down on this rubbery toy and shake it so violently back and forth that it would smack the sides of his head. And with each smack, the rubber flounder would squeak. “Smack, squeak!

Smack, squeak!” He’d run in circles and do this for hours. “Smack, squeak!

Smack, squeak!”

And, as I said, he was pot-luck of doggie parts but I’m certain, somewhere in his genetic history, there was a herding breed.

Lynch herded anything and everyone. Walking alongside, nudging with his shoulder and pushing.

Now, I don’t think there was ever any specific destination in mind, he just nudged things along - people, other dogs, cats.

It didn’t matter.

Then there was the begging. Lynch was a world class beggar of the highest order. He begged with conviction, focus and purpose.

Do not dare eat even the smallest of cookies in his presence as he will stare directly into your eyes, and then to the cookie, eyes again, then cookie. Never blinking, focus never wavering.

Sun naps. Lynch was a lover of the sun and sun naps. It didn’t matter that his coat was a dense, thick fur or that it could be 100 degrees out. He would find a patch of sun and nap – sun naps they were called. When inside, he would contort himself to fit in sun “boxes.” Little “boxes” of sun projected onto

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the floor, or the bed, or a couch, from a nearby window. He’d then follow these sun boxes as they edged across a room in response to the sun’s slow path across the sky.

Then there was the “Tink, tink. Tink, tink. Tink, tink.” That was the sound he’d make walking across hardwood floors.

“Tiny Dancer” we called him as he tap danced his way across the house. “Tink, tink. Tink, tink. Tink, tink.”. It was as if he was wearing little doggie tap shoes.

Over the years, Lynch assumed the “Alpha” role among the other dogs in the house. This wasn’t through some epic battle, though, he was simply smarter and, more importantly, wiser than the rest. He just knew how to get things done, make things happen and keep things in check.

Really more “The Godfather” than an “Alpha” dog in all honesty.

To my wife and me, he was a living, breathing time capsule.

We’d just gotten married and were living in Marietta when he joined our family. Since, there have been many great times, many hard times and a lot of life lived in between and he has shared in each and every one of those moments.

Lynch was with us as careers and life moved our family from Marietta to McDonough to Stockbridge to downtown Atlanta and finally to Ellijay.

He’s always been a part of a big family of furry friends; Max and Sugar – the two Rottweilers I’d had since college, and my wife’s cat, Luna Bell, whom she’d also had since college, were there when he arrived back in the spring of 2000. Then came Earnhardt the Beagle, Sunday the part English Setter and part something else, Gus the mixed mid-sized male, Ellie the Treeing Walker Coonhound, Hemi and Libby our two cats and finally Lucy the Pitbull. There have also been several fosters along the way – Huckleberry the shepherd-mix, a smaller white dog of which the name has since been forgotten, and maybe another or two.

“Love is when the other person’s happiness is more important than your own.” - H. Jackson Brown Jr.

CRIMINALS, Whitfield County Sheriff’s Office swears in 7-year-old Gabriel ‘Tater’ Singleton as a deputy, fulfilling the cancer patient’s dream of becoming a lawman

The new deputy climbed behind the wheel of his shiny red, white and blue patrol car, turned on the flashing emergency lights and got out again to make sure they were working properly.

Satisfied with his pre-shift inspection, the rookie headed out on his first patrol, eager to help keep the streets of Whitfield County safer for his fellow residents.

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E R A W

E B

otos h p d n a y r o t S ley

by Mitch Tal

Just a few minutes later, the deputy had already made his first stop, noticing that the driver in the pickup ahead of him wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.

After radioing in to headquarters for a check of the man’s license, the new lawman returned to the truck and told the driver he had discovered there was an outstanding warrant on him and he would have to take him to jail. Deputies Tater Singleton and Shawn Giles of the Whitfield County Sheriff’s Office give a thumbs-up as they head out onto patrol for the first time together.

Pulling out his handcuffs, the

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Rule 3 for a Happy Marriage: If one of you has to win an argument, let it be your mate.

“Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.� - Oscar Wilde

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deputy carefully shackled the suspect, helped him climb into the rear of his patrol car, and headed back to the jail.

Sounds like a typical first day for a new lawman, right?

Not in this case.

The deputy was actually Gabriel “Tater” Singleton, a 7-year-old second grader at Cedar Ridge Elementary, in the middle of a very exciting day set up by the Whitfield County Sheriff’s Office.

“On Tuesday, I had the honor of swearing in Tater, as an Honorary Deputy Sheriff for Whitfield County,” Whitfield County Sheriff Scott Chitwood explained. “His story was brought to my attention, and it was a unanimous decision to make him part of our Department. With the cooperation of many, we were able to obtain a uniform, badge, name plate and other miscellaneous items to present to him, making this a very special day for him. We allowed him to ride in a Patrol car and go through the steps of a ‘made up’ arrest. The 911 Dispatch communicated with him on the private radio channel, allowing Tater to reply several times. I hope the day meant

LuLu Singleton embraces her son, Deputy Tater Singleton, after he put on his uniform for the first time.

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as much to Tater, as it did for all of us, that had a part in this young man’s life.”

Tater is a very special person. You see, when he’s not fighting crime for the Sheriff’s Office, Tater has to battle bad guys of a much different kind. His mother, LuLu Singleton, says Tater has been bravely fighting cancer since he was 3 years old.

“He gets treatment in Atlanta twice a week, so we’re all the time on the interstate,” LuLu said. “He’s always counting police cars when he sees them on the road, and he gets excited whenever he sees the blue lights. He just loves police officers.”

When the Whitfield County Sheriff’s Office heard about his love for law enforcement, they decided to go all out and create a very special surprise for the youngster.

First, though, he had to be secretly measured a few days earlier so a special deputy sheriff’s uniform could be made by T&T Uniforms just like the one his new “partner,” Deputy Shawn Giles, wears. It even included his name “Tater” on a badge created by Total Recognition.

“I, Gabriel Singleton, do promise to always abide by the laws of Georgia and all ordinances of Whitfield County.

I do further promise to always be honest to my fellow man, to treat all individuals fair and with respect. I promise to maintain the Golden Rule and always treat others as I would want to be treated. I further promise to always maintain a good and positive attitude, so therefore I, Scott Chitwood, the duly sworn sheriff of Whitfield County, do hereby appoint Gabriel ‘Tater’ Singleton honorary deputy sheriff for Whitfield County.”

“Let us always meet each other with smile, for the smile is the beginning of love.” - Mother Teresa

Jesse Singleton adjusts his son Tater’s uniform.

Deputy Gabriel “Tater” Singleton hugs his partner, Deputy Shawn Giles of the Whitfield County Sheriff’s Office.

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After surprising Tater with the uniform and other equipment, including plastic handcuffs and billy club, Giles helped him suit up that morning, and then with cellphone cameras from family members clicking and fellow lawmen looking on, Sheriff Chitwood swore in his new honorary deputy sheriff, who climbed on top of a step stool to be a little closer to his new boss. Tater repeated his name in the appropriate location as he listened to the sheriff repeat the following: “I, Gabriel Singleton, do promise to always abide by the laws of Georgia and all ordinances of Whitfield County. I do further promise to always be honest to my fellow man, to treat all individuals fair and with respect. I promise to maintain the Golden Rule and always treat others as I would want to be treated. I further promise to always maintain a good and positive attitude, so therefore I, Scott Chitwood, the duly sworn sheriff of Whitfield County, do hereby appoint Gabriel ‘Tater’ Singleton honorary deputy sheriff for Whitfield County.”

With those words, applause rang out through the conference room, and a little boy officially became known as Deputy Tater. The sheriff and other members of his staff then presented their new coworker with several gifts, including an actual skeleton key from the old jail, a real badge, a small New Testament Bible, and a couple of challenge coins normally given to officers for doing a good job.

Deputy Tater couldn’t resist laughing when Chitwood also gave him a Mickey Mouse statue dressed up like a policeman.

“Tell everyone why you want to be a policeman,” his mom said to Tater.

“Because they’re brave and strong,” came his reply.

Naturally, with such enthusiasm for law enforcement, everyone

Rule 4 for a Happy Marriage: If you have to criticize, do it lovingly.

Deputy Tater Singleton radios into dispatch with information from the driver’s license of his suspect, then after learning a “warrant” was out on the man, handcuffs him to take him to jail, as fellow lawman Shawn Giles looks on. was eager to meet the new deputy so he received a special tour of the sheriff’s office and jail, earning a rock star’s welcome from many of his fellow law enforcement personnel on duty.

“Nice to meet you! So handsome! You ready for your big day?” said one of the women on duty, pausing a moment to add: “He’s so cute – I want him!”

After completing the tour, though, it was off to work for Deputy Tater.

“Before we start every shift with our cars, we have to make sure everything’s working on them – all the blue lights and everything, so that’s what you and I are about to do, okay?” Giles explained to his new partner.

Tater even tested the siren.

The special day was a great change of pace for a young man who was diagnosed with cancer shortly after he turned 3 years old.

“He’s been doing all kinds of treatments

since then,” his mom said, “numerous rounds of chemo, two stem cell transplants, radiation, and IV radiation.”

Tater traveled to Seattle a few weeks ago to do T-cell therapy, where medical workers took out some of his cells and reprogrammed them to attack the neuroblastoma.

“Those cells are ready, and we’re looking at possibly going in about two weeks to get that therapy,” his mom said. “He’ll be gone

“The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.” - Audrey Hepburn

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Deputy Tater Singleton slams the door, literally, on crime in Whitfield County. At right, Sheriff Scott Chitwood shakes hands with his newest deputy after swearing him in. for about six weeks, but he’s excited because he does get to stay home for Christmas – perfect timing on God’s part.”

LuLu says that Tater never complains, never cries despite all the treatments he has to undergo on a frequent basis. “He’s so calm – he’s amazing!” the proud mother said.

That calmness was on display in December as Deputy Tater helped Giles apprehend a “wanted” criminal. In a traffic stop staged near Heritage Park, with blue lights flashing, Tater radioed into headquarters and learned that his “suspect” was wanted on an outstanding warrant.

“You know what you’re gonna have to do?”Giles asked his partner. “You’re gonna have to get him out of the truck and put him in

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“Love is life. And if you miss love, you miss life.” - Leo Buscaglia

handcuffs. You’ve got your handcuffs, right? OK, you know where to see him back and do some more.” he’s going after that – the back of the patrol car and then to jail.

Giles said Tater was really excited as they rode back in the You ready?” patrol car after the arrest. “He was about 90 miles an hour talking “Yes,” Tater said as they approached the truck. about the arrest,” Giles said. “I made it real big that most people “Here comes the strong and brave part you were talking about don’t make an arrest and he did one in five minutes! Some of them earlier,” Giles said. don’t make an arrest in days, so he must have been a really good Deputy Tater pulled out his handcuffs, shackled the suspect lawman. So he was very excited, talking about yes, he’s gonna without incident, and turned him over to jail officials after arriving in make a real good sheriff. He was talking about his mama, too, and the sallyport. Then it was off to the Dalton Fire Department Stathat she was gonna be proud of him for doing that.” tion 1, where he was allowed to look at the fire trucks up close and Giles called his partner “one of the most positive kids you will was given a real fire helmet, badges, patches, and stickers. ever meet to be going through such a difficult thing. To have somebody go through what he’s already been through and he knows His grateful parents, LuLu and Jesse Singleton, expressed thanks to the sheriff’s office and the fire department for making what’s coming and still to be such a positive human being is amaztheir son’s dreams ing.” come true.

Giles described the experience as “one of the “Tuesday was highlights” of his 15-year such an amazing career. day!” LuLu said. “It’s a day I didn’t know “You’ve got a young man whose dream is he wants if I would have ever gotten to see. With to be a police officer,” Giles Gabriel’s diagnosis said. “And man, to have his future was sealed him in the car and to see his face and his reaction, with uncertainty.

I feared he would just to hear the excitement never get to realize in his voice, you can’t buy his dream of becomthat. That is one thing that ing a police officer. every human being should Gabriel has always strive for, is to help someadmired law enforceone else like that and to ment. He loves evhave that feeling, just a erything about it. The great feeling.

Deputy Tater Singleton was honored with a proclamation by the Whitfield bravery and strength “I know it was exciting for needed is something County Board of Commissioners at their Dec. 28 meeting. him, but even several days very intriguing to him after, we’re still talking about - something he forgets he already has from his fight with cancer. I Tater, Tater, Tater, Tater. He made a bigger impact on us than we will be forever grateful to the Whitfield County Sheriff’s Office and will ever make on him,” Giles said. the Dalton Fire Department for making Gabriel’s dreams come Deputy Tater might not agree. His mom says he’s still talking true that day. They showered him with so many special gifts and about his special day.

“Gabriel has been telling everyone at the hospital about how he love that no amount of money could ever buy.”

Nearly a week later, at a special event sponsored by the local became a police officer and firefighter all in one day,” LuLu said.

“He tells everyone how he arrested someone after only being on Fraternal Order of Police, Deputy Giles was still talking about his partner. patrol for five minutes with his partner Shawn. He has not stopped “Wow! That’s the word that sums it up,” Giles said. “I had an smiling and just gushes with pride of having his dreams come amazing time with Tater as a partner. I felt honored as a person to true!” be able to be with him and to make his wish come true. I know evIt was just all in a day’s work for a brave and strong 7-year-old Whitfield County deputy. erybody at the Sheriff’s Office absolutely enjoyed it. We can’t wait “You can’t blame gravity for falling in love.” - Albert Einstein

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GUTEN ESSEN! That’s how Germans say ‘Good Food,’ and also how customers at Henry Fehrmann’s new Alpine Deli & Cafe in Blue Ridge say it, too!

It looks like it used to be a bank full of money, now it’s a deli full of deliciousness!

Located at 204 W. Main St., right near Southern Charm Restaurant, you’ll find the newly opened Alpine Deli & Cafe.

Owner Henry Fehrmann has lots of experience in the food business. His family owned delis all over the world, including Berlin, Germany. His father was a renowned chef having worked in top notch kitchens like The Four Seasons in New York City. Dad passed down his recipes to Henry.

Photos and Story by years Thia & Robb Newman of After running his own businesses, Henry and his wife, Holly, decided to move to the beautiful Blue Ridge area to retire.

Retirement didn’t last long, though. Henry missed talking to people and decided running a little specialty deli right near downtown Blue Ridge would be the perfect job for him.

With the highest quality meats imported from Europe, handmade sausages and all the homemade side dishes, you can’t go wrong for a friendly filling lunch, either dining at one of the half dozen tables or getting food to go.

You can also buy meat by the pound. The shelves around the eatery are lined with products also imported from across the ocean.

Breakfast is served from 7 a.m. until 11a.m. and you can get anything from a bagel with butter to some fresh made quiche. Lunchtime is 11a.m. until 3 p.m.

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“A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love.” - Max Muller

We arrived hungry at about 1 o’clock, and there was a nice happy crowd already there. Since my Dad Griz is half German, we brought him along for an expert opinion on the food.

With many types of sausage, several sandwiches and a variety of homemade sides it was difficult to decide what to order. My dad and I finally settled on sharing a Bratwurst plate and a Weisswurst plate.

Robb got a Rachel sandwich. The Rachel is warm delicious turkey breast topped with sauerkraut, melty Swiss cheese and Thousand Island dressing on fresh bread. Robb said he loved the melding of so many different flavors and would definitely order it again. It came with homemade hot German potato salad and chips.

Griz thought everything he tasted was delicious. He is not a big eater, but he ate just about everything on his plate (except the two bites I got) and then he ate almost all of the other sausage on mine!

He said the smell and flavor brought back wonderful memories for him. He advised anyone who loves German food to stop in, but he also said if you aren’t familiar with it, you should come by for a wonderful new adventure in eating.

He said he definitely wanted to return for another meal.

I got a bite of each sausage and snuck a chunk of Robb’s sandwich and they were all very tasty. But of course I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into all the homemade side dishes; each one was better than the last. And they were all luscious!

Alpine puts their own twist on these. The plain sauerkraut you would get elsewhere, is not what you get here. Henry’s version contains smoked bacon, onions, apples and wine!

I think my favorite accompaniment was the Kase Spatzle, a high end German version of mac and cheese. The house made egg noodles were buttery and tossed with onions and spices, and smothered with Swiss cheese.

The Potato Pancakes, my other favorite, were crispy, crunchy and fresh, not at all greasy, served with warm applesauce.

As always I asked for info for my friends with special diets.

Gluten free is an easy one to get here, as all the handmade sausages contain nothing but meat and spices. For my veggie head friends Henry will make you a special vegetarian platter of side dishes at a great price, even though it’s not on the menu. Just tell him Thia sent you.

Yummy food served quickly and a terrific chat with the owner Henry made for a wonderful lunch. You’ll find authentic, amazing German food, handmade sausages, imported European meats, and groceries, in a spotless cafe.

It’s around $10 for a one sausage plate with two sides, or a sandwich with extras. Go check out Alpine Deli & Cafe.

Two forks up!

Rule 5 for a Happy Marriage: Never bring up mistakes of the past.

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B.E.S.T.

Bringing Ellijay Sensatioinal Talent

Saturday, Feb. 6

A Closer Walk With Patsy Cline Friday, March 11

A Tradition of Excellence Since 1945

Traditional Irish Music

Don’t Miss Cherish the Ladies!

106 Court Street, Calhoun, GA n (706) 629-2751

Call 706-635-5605 now for tickets or go to www.gilmerarts.org

Is that a dog or a polar bear?

Since starting our small farm we have learned a lot of things about keeping animals. One thing that we have discovered is that you need some form of protection from predators for the livestock.

When we first moved in, we were the only humans on our road. The coyotes would sound like they were a stone’s throw from the door when I would let our little Chihuahuas outside. I’m not normally afraid of a lot of critters, but coyotes do scare me.

The loud, haunting yipping would cause the hairs on my neck to stand up, and I would gather all of my small, yappy dogs to rush inside. I realized then that Chihuahuas, although they may think they are big, scary dogs, are not good farm dogs.

We then got ourselves a farm dog. She is a black Labrador mixed with border collie.

She’s a great yard dog. She lies around outside all day and doesn’t bother the chickens or the ducks. She runs around and barks and thinks she is chasing small critters away all day long.

But, at night she wants inside with the Chihuahuas and she wasn’t quite doing the job we needed done around the farm all night long. We were losing chickens and ducks quickly, and I was worried about those coyotes that still seemed to surround our house at night.

When my 45-pound Christmas turkey disappeared, I began doing research on livestock guardian dogs. There is a big difference between a farm dog and a livestock guardian dog.

“Love doesn’t make the world go ‘round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile.” - Franklin P. Jones

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There are a few different LGD breeds as well as a lot of pros and cons to having livestock guardian dogs, because they are very different than having any old farm dog.

I decided on the Great Pyrenees, well known for being guardians for sheep and goats in the French Pyrenees mountains. The breed was considered the royal dog of France in 1675, decreed by King Louis XIV. History shows the Great Pyrenees, although not named Great Pyrenees at that time, date back to 10,000 BC in Asia minor as a flock guardian dog.

Their loyal, calm disposition makes them great family guard dogs, and their ability to think on their own and make decisions that pertain to their flock makes them extraordinary livestock guardians.

They are fierce protectors of their flocks and are able to fight off coyotes and wolves, and I even read where they can take on a bear if needed.

Reading that there should be more than one when working on a farm, I opted to get two 9-week-old female puppies.

There weren’t many breeders locally when we decided to get our girls.

I found a litter of puppies in Tennessee that would be ready to go to their fur-ever homes at the exact time I would be passing by after taking my son to Knoxville to leave for Navy boot camp.

How perfect is that timing? I am dropping off my son and picking up two sweet puppies to bring home and nurture to make up for my mommy heartbreak, after letting my son grow up and leave home. (Notice how I said “letting”; we all know I had no say in my son growing up!)

We picked them up and made our way back to Ellijay with our

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new puppies. I named one Evie, after my son Evan, who grew up and left me that day, and the other Willow.

Not five minutes into the trip home, Evie peed all over me and Willow threw up on me. Oh, what a great four-hour drive home that was for me! I have to confess it took my mind off my son leaving for boot camp.

I learned quickly that all the research I had done was exact and even though I thought that my puppies would never be all that I read in the con column and would be everything from the pro column, they were exactly all the cons in that con

column.

These dogs are stubborn and they definitely make their own decisions; your decisions don’t matter one bit when they make their mind up to do something. Especially, taking off and running away.

“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.” - Ingrid Bergman

Great Pyrenees create their own borders and can wander up to two miles away without so much as looking back. You can imagine the workout program I began in cross country running after we brought them home, and before I got smart enough to stop trying to teach them to stay on the property without leashes.

More than a few times I took off after the two of them as they started through the woods. Running to the best of my ability, panting, and huffing and puffing, as I was hurdling over downed trees and up and down steep embankments trying to get to them before they got out of my sight. I decided early on they needed good fencing.

They grew like no dog I’ve ever seen before. The day we brought them home they weighed 22 and 24 pounds at 9 weeks old. By 6 months old they were both nearing 100 pounds each.

I read during my research they are avid barkers. Yes, they are avid barkers. They bark all night long and during the day at nothing that I can see.

They do sleep a lot during the day because they are one of the few dogs that are nocturnal. And, they are definitely nocturnal. They sleep all day to rest up and prepare for the bark fest at night.

We have a giant dog door that my husband had to create and build so that our Pyres can come inside and go outside

whenever they want.

You will find one outside working if the other is inside napping.

They are very diligent in their job and never leave the yard unprotected.

There are no words to describe the dog hair they shed. Daily I sweep up enough white fuzzy dog hair that I have to make sure it’s not one of the Chihuahuas before I toss it out. These dogs do require regular grooming and even with all the brushing there is tons of shedding dog hair. We have all graduated from wearing any dark colors around here, and you will find lint rollers all over the house and in the car.

All those cons, though, are worth every ounce of love they give back. They are amazing dogs. They love their family and are great with our granddaughter. They get along with the Chihuahuas, although the Chihuahuas don’t care much for them. They don’t realize that they are here for their protection, too, since the Chihuahuas think they are bigger than the Great Pyres.

Our farm dog, Sadie, still thinks she keeps the yard clear of critters during the day and the Great Pyres take the night shift.

“I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.” - Martin Luther King, Jr.

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It’s a win-win for our goats, chickens and ducks.

We didn’t realize that Great Pyrenees were like potato chips! You can’t have just one or even two. We brought home our newest Great Pyrenees this past spring, and named him Bear, and now we have three.

Right now we are going through his puppy stages since he’s just under a year old, and he’s chewing up everything he can get his giant paws on and digging holes everywhere. We are hoping he will outgrow that soon and we’ll still have some shoes left and our back yard won’t look like the craters of the moon.

Great Pyrenees aren’t considered full grown adults until they are past the age of 2 years old. They continue to grow and fill out until they are 3 years old, and as of now our girls are near 150 pounds. I think Bear may surpass them both when he is

full grown.

Since the day we brought the Great Pyrenees home, we have yet to hear the yipping of coyotes outside.

We haven’t lost any more chickens or ducks, and the goats live a stress-free life, not having to worry about predators.

I have to say that we made a good decision getting our giant white dogs, even if I did have to learn that sometimes you should believe everything you read. Our livestock guardian dogs are doing their jobs and protecting the animals on our farm. I feel very safe out here where I live knowing that they are here to protect our family, too.

A big white dog that looks like a polar bear that comes up to you and shows you all of its love is the best part of all.

You can’t look into those big sweet, soulful eyes and deny them a good rub down and a yummy treat.

SNOWFLAKES

No two are alike, especially when they’re made of Popsicle sticks!

When the weather turns colder and we are stuck inside more we like to kick up the crafting more.

Today we have decided that since it is cold but raining instead of snowing we would make our own snowflakes. My Tristan is home and has his friend Payton over, and the two of them were very excited to be able to make their own snowflakes. These two boys are great at crafts and have big imaginations.

The snowflakes we are making today are made with Popsicle sticks, paint and glue. You can use any type of glue that will hold wooden sticks from Elmer’s glue, hot glue or wood glue.

We chose to use hot glue because we are all impatient, but if you do use hot glue make sure adults are supervising or doing the gluing.

You can also use other decorations like stickers, glitter, sequins, and other craft supplies that would decorate your snowflakes in a way that makes them pretty and you and your children happy.

Tristan and Payton decided they just wanted to paint their snowflakes and not use any other decorations. They made three snowflakes each and painted

By LORA BUNCH

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“Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.” - Dalai Lama

each one a different shade or color. The colors they chose were white, Key West, bright blue, and baby blue. We used acrylic paint from the craft section. You can find it in almost any store that sells craft supplies.

We put each Popsicle stick on top of the other making it look most like a snowflake and decided that four sticks made the best looking snowflake.

I gave the boys enough sticks to make three of them, and they were so excited to see how they would look when all painted and put together. They chatted and laughed as they sat and painted the first side of their sticks.

Once the first side is painted you have to let them sit and dry and then turn them over and paint the other side. Both sides must be painted and decorated then let to dry completely before you

begin doing the gluing that will hold them together.

One of my favorite parts of crafting with paint is the conversations that take place as the paint is being applied and as it is sitting and drying. I love to hear the kids’ imaginations go wild as they talk to each other about the plans they have for the craft they are working on.

Every child has some kind of artist inside them, and it is so amazing to see what their little minds come up with on each project that we work on together. I know I say it a lot, but it is so true that the best part of any craft you do is the time you spend together creating the craft and the memories.

It doesn’t take very long for each side of the sticks to dry. I would say it took maybe 15 minutes between sides for them to be completely dry.

Once they were all dry and ready to go the boys started to arrange them again letting me know exactly how they wanted each one to be arranged to make it unique and beautiful.

I added a dot of hot glue under each stick where they stack on top of each other until all four of the sticks are secured. Once all three of the snowflakes each of the boys painted were glued, we had six very cool looking Popsicle snowflakes.

There are many things you can do with this craft once it is complete. If you are doing it before Christmas you can add a string and make it into an ornament to hang on the tree.

If you don’t want it to be an ornament or like us are doing

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Rule 6 for a Happy Marriage: Neglect the whole world rather than each other.

“‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” - Alfred Lord Tennyson

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this as a winter craft after Christmas then you can use it as a toy the kids can play with or as a decoration. You can hang it on the wall or other parts of the house that will decorate your home for the winter season.

Whatever you choose to do with it I know it will bring a smile to your face to see it and be reminded of the time you spent together making it.

One thing I like to do is to write their name and the year on the back of their crafts so we can look back on them years later. I have four children on my own, two 20-year-olds, a 16-year-old and the youngest who did this craft is 9.

It is always a lot of fun when decorating for the seasons and holidays to pull out the crafts they have made and be able to look and see which child made each one and how old they were when they made them.

Even my oldest children love to see the ornaments they made when they were younger each time.

I truly hope you and your children enjoy making the crafts we do here in the Krafty Kids column, and more than that I hope you make wonderful memories together while doing them.

Winter is not at all my favorite season, but I had a great day today making these beautiful painted snowflakes with these awesome boys.

Until spring keep making those winter crafts and check back in with me in a couple months to see what new and fresh spring crafts we can create with our children.

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“Don’t forget to love yourself.” - Soren Kierkegaard

“We are born of love; Love is our mother.” - Rumi

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My advice to anyone who is just starting out as a musician is that it is going to be hard. You have to dedicate all of your time to bettering yourself as an artist. Developing yourself. It is not an easy road.

I know you have everyone else in the world telling you that you need to get a “real job.”

Listen, I have been playing professionally for four years and I have never had a “real job.” THIS is my job. MUSIC is my job. Doing what I love every day and putting smiles on people’s faces is the only thing that I could ever ask for.

-EMILY WHITE 36

An interview with...

EMILY WHITE From the first time I saw Emily White perform at an open mike night I knew I was a fan of hers. Emily has a beautiful classic voice that is timeless. She came on the stage with a smile and within minutes had the attention of the entire room. She has a lot of talent as well as a fun and friendly personality that immediately captures the attention of everyone there.

You can tell she is at home singing and playing for an audience by the way she takes the stage and owns it as if it is her home. Emily is not only a talented singer but she is a songwriter who has the ability to touch your soul with the

By LORA BUNCH heartfelt songs she has written. It was a pleasure for me to see her perform, and I am excited for all of you to get to know her through this interview.

Lora: How old were you when you started singing?

Writing?

Emily: I first began singing when I was around the age “I’m not really that girl who dreams about her wedding day.” - Taylor Swift

of 9 years old. My mother was the first one to introduce me to the music scene. She got her start in Nashville, Tenn., at Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge. She would always bring me up on stage for one song at the end of her set. The band would ask me what song I was singing and in what key. I always, without fail, sang “Crazy”

by Patsy Cline in B Flat. And there was this simultaneous sigh from all the musicians because EVERYONE hates B flat. But I just trucked right along and sang it anyway. I started writing when I was around 16 years old. The early stages of my writing were what you would expect out of a teenage girl, but as I matured, so did my writing. When I was around 18, people would always second guess whether or not I actually wrote my original material.

They always thought that the music was too in-depth for anyone of my age to understand. Well, surprise! I’ve always prided myself of having an old soul, so I guess it just shines through in my music.

Lora: Which instruments do you play?

Rule 7 for a Happy Marriage: Never go to sleep with an argument unsettled.

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Emily: Mainly guitar, at the moment. I started playing piano when I was around 7 or so. Mom thought it was a good idea to try and preoccupy my time with a hobby. Seeing as I was quite the rambunctious child. I immediately fell in love with it. That is, until I discovered the guitar. I had finally convinced my parents, at the ripe age of 13, that I was destined to become a rock star. And what does every aspiring rock star need? A guitar of course! They bought me my very first garage sale guitar with a sticker price of $30. I practiced and practiced until one morning, my dad found me in my room trying to transpose piano melodies to the guitar. Seeing the struggle that I was going through, he knew it was time for me to start taking lessons. So I began lessons with Larry Daniels in Gainesville, Georgia.

Lora: What was the first tune(s) you learned?

Emily: Oh, man. I can’t even remember the first song that I learned. But I do recall having an unhealthy obsession with George Jones when I was younger. So it more than likely was one of his hits.

Lora: Is your family musical?

Emily: My mother is the musical one in my family. We always joke about my dad and how he makes a joyful noise. Haha.

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“A woman knows the face of the man she loves as a sailor knows the open sea.” - Honore de Balzac

Lora: Which famous musicians have you worked with if any?

Emily: I have opened for Atlanta Rhythm Section (ARS), Confederate Railroad, collaborated with Zac Brown’s nephew, James Arthur, as per requested by Zac himself.

My first studio recorded album was at Jeff Cook’s studio, former guitarist for the band Alabama.

Lora: Do you get nervous before a performance or a competition?

Emily: When I had just started playing in public, I was so afraid of getting in front of people. But when you grow as a musician, you learn that the stage is your second home. You grow so accustomed to people’s eyes and ears being set on you. The only thing that I still get nervous about is small venues. I can play to a group of 2,000 people all day long. You have the spotlight in your face and can’t see a single person.

But when I play to a handful of people, I get SO nervous! I don’t know what it is about it, but I’m still maturing as an artist.

Maybe I’ll grow out of it. ;) Competitions are another thing entirely, though. I try my best not to psych myself out over everyone else competing against me. I focus on my performance. It’s the only one that matters.

I don’t get nervous or think that someone else might be better than I am. I always tell myself that I’m going to do my best, and whatever will be will be. Set the standard for yourself, not others.

Lora: How often and for how long do you practice?

Emily: I practice two hours a day, every day. Sometimes more if I am writing new material. The only way to get better is to practice. You play until your blisters turn into callouses. You sing until you can hit that run perfectly. You write until someone

else can feel your pain through the song.

Lora: Where would you like to perform one day?

Emily: My dream venue would have to be The Ryman. The sound is absolutely superb. Any artist that has ever played there has always had a stripped down, raw set.

No fancy show to put on, just music. That’s all that matters to me. Not to mention the sheer amount of legends that have graced its stage!

Lora: Who are your biggest musical inspirations?

Emily: As cheesy as this may sound, my mother is my biggest inspiration. Not only as a human being, but as a musician.

When she was younger, she sang in Nashville every single weekend while we were living in Mississippi. She sacrificed so much to strive for her dreams. I respect her more than anyone on this earth. Teaching me

“Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same.” - Helen Keller

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everything there is to know about the music business and what I need to do in order to get where I want to go with my career.

Lora: What is the funniest thing that has happened at a show?

Emily: I was 9 years old and my mom was playing a show in Alabama when she decided to bring me up on stage. So I threw the football to one of the guys on the field, crawled onto that flatbed trailer, popped that sucker out of my mouth, and sang “Crazy” in the key of B flat. You could hear a pen drop in that stadium. Mind you, this was the first crowd I had ever sung in front of, and it happened to be a crowd of 5,000 people. After finishing my song, I popped the lollipop right back into my mouth, hopped off the stage, and then proceeded to finish

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my game of football with the guys. That was the moment that I decided that I wanted to become a musician. Singing, which came with such ease to me at such a young age, brought all of these people to their feet. Now, why wouldn’t I want to do this for the

“Only do what your heart tells you.” - Princess Diana

rest of my life? So here I am today, 11 years later, fulfilling the dream of a 9-year-old little tomboy who wanted to become a rock star.

Lora: Where can we find your music?

Emily: I have my own website, emilywhitemusic.com, as well as a Facebook fan page.

Lora: Tell me about why you love country music?

Emily: I honestly can’t pigeonhole myself into one musical genre. But I absolutely LOVE classic country. I was raised on dirt backroads, and all we had for music was a tape of Hank Williams Sr. Lora: What do you see in the future for your music?

Emily: The only thing that I have ever wanted, ever since I was a kid, was to become famous. But every musician has a different take on what it means to be famous. I’ve always wanted to be able to write my own music and have a stadium full of thousands of people to sing along to every single word of them. Every single word of MY songs. I want to make an impact on people’s lives. I want them to connect with me through my music and feel what I felt when I wrote that song. That is what I want my future as a musician to be.

Lora: Where are you from?

Emily: I was born in Meridian, Mississippi and grew up in the small town of Quitman, Mississippi. We moved around quite a bit when I was younger. From a house in Mississippi, two houses in Alabama, and three houses here in Georgia. But my childhood was beyond amazing. Being raised in the country was the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me. It taught me to appreciate the small things, respecting others, earning your keep. You know, just your basic common sense. An attribute that seems to be dying off pretty quick these days.

Lora: What is your favorite song you have written and why?

Emily: My favorite song that I have ever written would have to be “Dandelions.” It’s one of the newer ones that I have written, but it is by far my favorite. It’s about having a friendRule 8 for a Happy Marriage: At least once a day try to say one kind thing to your spouse.

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ship that you never want to be more than just that. A friendship.

But they see it as so much more. They are willing to risk everything that has been established as friends in order to have a relationship. This is a problem, I’m sure, for many people out there. As well as me.

Lora: What is your overall favorite musician or song?

Emily: My favorite musician of all time? That is one of the hardest questions to ask a musician. I get it all the time, and I can never give a straight answer. Not because there isn’t anyone in particular, but that there are SO many artists that have influenced my style that I can’t just choose one. How about this, I’ll give you a list of a few. Bonnie Raitt, Tracy Chapman, Sheryl Crow, Nora Jones, Patsy Cline, George Jones, Hank Williams Sr., Eva Cassidy. I could literally go on for hours. There are just too many.

Lora: What’s the biggest show you have ever done?

Emily: It wasn’t quite the biggest show that I have ever done, but it was one of the most important to me. I’ve headlined at Eddie’s Attic in Decatur multiple times. To have a venue of such high tenure, it means the world to me that they would call me back.

Lora: What are three things you cannot live without?

Emily: Three things I cannot live without? Gosh. Probably my dog, my guitar, and my friends. My dog, Gidget, is literally my child. I’ve raised her since she was a puppy and spoiled her ever since. I feel like I treat her better than most people, but that is completely okay with her, just as long as she gets her belly rubs and treats. That’s all she needs. My guitar is the obvious choice.

Music is my life. I could never live without it around me in some way, shape, or form. I would prefer for it to be me creating and writing it, thus me choosing the guitar. Lastly, and certainly not least, my friends. I would not have had half of the experiences in my life if it weren’t for them.

Lora: What are the top songs on your play list right now?

Emily: I have been obsessed with Blackberry Smoke lately. So probably anything by them would be at the top of my most recently played.

Lora: If you could open for anyone who would it be?

Emily: Bonnie Raitt. Hands down one of my favorite female artists.

Lora: What hobbies do you have outside of music?

Emily: My hobbies are all of the artsy fartsy things such as painting, reading, writing, hiking. I am all for anything having to do with the outdoors.

Lora: What advice would you give to beginners who are nervous?

Emily: My advice to anyone who is just starting out as a musician is that it is going to be hard. You have to dedicate all of your time to bettering yourself as an artist. Developing yourself. It is not

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an easy road. I know you have everyone else in the world telling you that you need to get a “real job.” Listen, I have been playing professionally for four years and I have never had a “real job.”

THIS is my job. MUSIC is my job. Doing what I love every day and putting smiles on people’s faces is the only thing that I could ever ask for.

Emily has everything it takes to be a big success from talent to confidence, but what I think will take her to the top is that she recognizes it takes hard work and determination to make it happen and is not afraid to put in the time and pay her dues to make it happen.

She has a true sense of self and is climbing her way to the top one day and one gig at a time. I’m sure it will only be a matter of time until Emily White will be a well-known name in the music world.

You can find Emily’s music on social media such as Facebook.

She sings in local venues in North Georgia including Blue Ridge, Ellijay, and Jasper. If you have the chance to catch a show you should definitely stop in because it is well worth your hard earned dollar. I have honestly enjoyed bringing this young and talented female artist to your attention, and I will be making plans to see more shows of hers soon.

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” - William Shakespeare

An interview with an artist....

BILLY ROPER

I had the pleasure of attending a meet-the-artist event a while back where I got to see the artwork of artist Billy Roper and have a brief conversation with him about his creations.

Billy is a humble man who just loves to create different types of art. I got the impression he is simply doing what comes naturally to him and really doesn’t see what all the fuss is about that all of us admirers of his work seem to keep making over him. He has a free spirit and it shows in his artwork.

I contacted him after the event to see if he would be interested in doing an interview with me, and it was a wise choice because I really enjoyed talking with him and getting a chance to see the many areas of his artistic abilities. I am excited to share his work and our conversation with you all.

Lora: Where are you from?

Billy: I am from Pickens County.

Lora: How old were you when you started out learning art?

Billy: I was about 2 or 3 years old when I started learning to paint and draw because my mom used it as a way to keep me busy and pacify me when she

By LORA BUNCH

“Love cures people - both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it.” - Karl A. Menninger

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had things she needed to get done.

Lora: What different types of art do you work in?

Billy: I work with metal work, marble, wood, and soapstone for sculptures, and for drawing and painting I work with charcoal and acrylics mostly.

I write on back of most all my paintings and I do other writings as well like poems and short stories and that kind of thing.

Lora: Is anyone else in your family into art?

Billy: My oldest daughter can paint and do other art but it is not her career choice.

Lora: What training or classes have you had in the art world?

Billy: I took art classes in high school for three years but they did not teach the things I thought they would. There was no drawing training and no real painting. It was mostly working on wood items they had cut out for us in advance. The last year was something I liked when the teacher handed me a log and a chisel, and I started working with it and sculpting it into something.

Lora: What kind of time would you say you normally spend doing your artwork?

Billy: If I had to think about it on a weekly basis it would depend on if I was motivated or not. If it’s a time that motivation is low it could be very little or even no time at all but if it is a time when I am motivated it can be 12 hours or more a day. I was

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“The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.� - Mother Teresa

working on a contract project once that I worked on most every day for two years and six months.

Lora: Where can people find your artwork?

Billy: I have social media pages where pictures of my work are displayed such as Facebook and Instagram. I also have artwork displayed at Junktiques in Jasper, Rocky’s Gallery in Dawsonville, and Canvas & Cork in Dahlonega.

Lora: What do you like best about being an artist?

Billy: I would have to say the freedom to be who I am and to do what I want and love to do. I also love the tools so I would say that is also something I really like about it.

“The first duty of love is to listen.” - Paul Tillich

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Lora: What do you see for you and your art in the future?

Billy: Well as far as what I see for myself in the future it’s to keep making my art as always. It is just who I am, like some people are doctors or plumbers. Well, I am an artist. That’s just who I am and what I do. As far as my artwork is concerned, well, art will happen anywhere people are, there will be art also.

I don’t know what the future will bring for my art exactly, but I do know it will happen and will be out there for people to see.

Lora: Do you have a favorite painting of yours?

Billy: Yes I always do but it changes over time so I don’t have one that is always my favorite. There may be one I paint that I like best for a while, but then if the mood changes or I paint a new one I like better then I have a different favorite for a while.

Lora: What is the biggest art show you have done?

Billy: There was a Folk Art Festival in Atlanta I did that was indoors and the size of an old Walmart before they were superstores and that one was really big and nice. And then I did an auction in Buford one time that went all day and was pretty big.

Lora: What are some things you want most in your life?

Billy: Peace of mind, freedom to work on things I like, and just staying busy with things to do.

Lora: What other hobbies do you have?

Billy: I love music and can play the banjo and mildly play the guitar.

Lora: What advice would you give to young or new artists?

Billy: If you are planning to make a career out of art then make sure it is what you want because you will have to be strong enough to handle the pressure. It is enormous and takes all you got to keep going at times. You will hear “no” a lot and you can’t get your feelings hurt and give up. You have to keep working at it. The key is how much hard work you are willing to put in, not just the talent you have. There are a lot of talented thing he feels or thinks is an influence on his artwork. He says people out there, and the difference in the ones that make it he sees the art in his head before it is on paper or canvas, and and the ones that do not is the amount of hard work they are for these reasons he is his art and it is him. They are one and willing to put into it and their drive to not give up. the same.

When I asked him to sum up his experiences in art he simply I really enjoyed sitting down and talking with Billy as well as stated that it has been a rough, beautiful road. I strongly engetting a chance to see his artwork and hear his story. courage each of you to take the time to visit a place where you We have so many talented people in North Georgia, and I can view his artwork and go find his social media pages. Not love having the opportunity to share them and their work with only will you enjoy all his creations, but you will love reading everyone. the stories behind each piece and hearing the things Mr. Roper Billy is a kind soul who is extremely talented. He has wise has to say. Art is a beautiful thing to add to your life, my friends, words to offer from his life experiences. He wants people to and this part of Georgia has much of it to share with you. know that he creates his art from everything he sees. Every-

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“A l“Love is a game that two can play and both win.” - Eva Gabor

ONE VERY COOL WEDDING It’s been 31 years, but the memories of my marriage are still very much vibrant After a long courtship of - cough - three months - cough - 31 years ago, on Jan. 28, my husband and I tied the knot.

He was a 35-year-old bachelor, and I was divorced after 12 years of a difficult, tumultuous marriage.

The night before we were to get married (which had been kept a secret to almost everybody); he came to my house for supper.

We ate, watched TV, and then, when he got ready to go home, we opened the door to a winter wonderland.

There was already about 4 inches of snow and ice, and still coming down like crazy. It had happened in a matter of a few hours.

I called the gate and asked if it was safe for him to get out. After the guard stopped laughing, he said no, no way, nu-uh, nope. I lived in a community that was made with the houses suspended off the mountainside, and every road was a winding, narrow snake trail. I guess that’s why the guard said no.

Well, my husband- to-be freaked out. He kept muttering, “I’ve waited 35 years to get married, and now this.” He kept peering out the living

Kathi Harper Hill is the author of six published books that can be purchased locally, on the Internet at www. kathi-harper-hill.blogspot.com or by contacting her at 706-276-4675.

“Love is just a game that everybody plays. The winners walk out laughing, the losers cry, deal again!” – Larry Gatlin

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room window as though the weather might miraculously improve. He paced, back and forth in front of the couch.

He called his mama and told her he was trapped (wasn’t that supposed to be what he said on our fifth anniversary?) That went over like a ton of bricks. He may have been 35, but he wasn’t supposed to be spending the night at some divorcee’s house!

At first, we weren’t even going to tell our parents we were getting married. Since I had been married already, I felt it only fair that Husband decide all the wedding details and they were this: “I want as few as possible there, I’m nervous enough as it is. I don’t need a dang audience.”

Plus, I had found out via the grapevine of trustworthy friends that my parents were freaking out, thinking I was on the rebound from my divorce, and besides that, they didn’t know this boy!

They (Mother) were trying to find out the goods on him, by hook or crook.

But, alas, when my husband was caught red handed with a Service Merchandise catalog (remember those?) turned to the WEDDING RINGS, his mama asked why was he doing that?

And he said - wait for it- “A friend of mine is thinking about getting married and wanted to borrow this.”

I can still, after all these years, hear her eyes rolling practically out of her head.

The final straw for her was when he was trying to sneak his suit out of the house. His mother’s house. Can you imagine trying to sneak something as big as a suit out from under your mother’s nose?

She flattened herself against the car door and told him he wasn’t going anywhere until he told her if we were getting married. So, of course, he broke down and confessed.

Which meant I had to tell my parents.

One of my best friends (who kept her mouth shut - at least somebody did) agreed to stand up for us. The preacher’s daughter was to be the other witness.

Back to the night before: I went to bed; I don’t think the future husband did, even though I put clean sheets and quilts on the guest bed.

I called the gate again the morning of the wedding. They said you can’t get out. I said, “B-but we are supposed to get married today.”

“Well, why didn’t ya say so? We’ll get you out if we have to use our helicopter!” (They had a helicopter?)

They tracked our every move, waiting to rescue us if we drove off a ravine. So, in husband-to-be’s front wheel drive Volkswagen, we crept, and finally saw the gate! WHEW!

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“Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow.” - John Lennon

But wait! On the other side of the gate was my ex-husband trying to wheedle his way in!!! YIKES! He wasn’t supposed to be allowed past the gate, as there was a restraining order, but he got through before.

The guard, who had plenty of girth and knew what was going on, stayed positioned between the two cars, blocking old ex’s view. He also kept him occupied with conversation while we sped away at 5 mph on the ice.

The groom put the James Bond theme song in the tape deck.

We were so cool.

Just before we left my house that morning, the phone rang. It was husband’s mama asking if she could at least pay for a few photographs to be taken at the church, since NOBODY was allowed to attend. He asked me, and I said, “Sure.”

She said, “That’s good, because they’ll be there at 3:30 p.m.”

Ha! We got to the church, after I had begged a florist to make me a small bouquet to hold.

The church folks had forgotten to turn on the heat.

We got married in 40 degrees. I couldn’t tell if I was shaking from nerves or cold. It was probably both.

I look back at the pictures, and even though we thought we were old (I was 30), we look like children.

I guess it’s all in perspective.

“It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust o

Gilmer Arts sets special literary events Local, state authors to speak, sign books on March 25, 26 Local writers Kathi Harper Hill and Joyce Southern Bennett will be speaking and signing books at Gilmer Arts, 207 Dalton St., Ellijay on Saturday afternoon, March 26 as part of a two-day event.

Keynote speaker on Friday night, March 25 will be Victoria Wilcox, author of Southern Son: The Saga of Doc Holliday. You can find out more about her on the Web at http://victoriawilcoxbooks.com/ Michael K. Brown, president of the Atlanta Writers Club and author of Promise of the Hills and Somewhere a River, will be speaking with Ms. Wilcox on Saturday, March 26 at 10 a.m. on “Writing with the Atlanta Writers Club” and later that afternoon about his books. Find out more about Brown at http:// michaelkbrown.deedspublishing.com/ Other accomplished authors will attend, including Ren and Helen Davis (Landscapes for the People; Atlanta’s Oakland Cemetery); Jadie Jones (Moonlit; Windswept; Wildwood); Richard Judy (Thru: An Appalachian Trail Love Story), and Robert Weintraub (No Better Friend: One Man, One Dog and Their Extraordinary Story of Courage and Survival in WWII; The Victory Season: The End of WWII and the Birth of Baseball’s Golden Age; and The House that Ruth Built: A New Stadium, the First Yankees Championship, and the Redemption of 1923).

For more information, visit www.gilmerarts. org or call 706-635-5605.

Rule 9 for a Happy Marriage: When you have done something wrong, be ready to admit it and ask for forgiveness.

49

BURNING BRUSH

One of the little pleasures of my life dates back to childhood days

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Ann had gone to Richmond, Va., to attend a couple of reunions, which left me at home to fend for myself.

I decided peanut butter and jelly sandwiches aren’t as good as they were when I was a kid.

My solution was to check out the fast food places in Blue Ridge. Yes, McDonald’s has the best gravy and biscuits, Mercier’s has great grilled cheese sandwiches, Pete’s Place has some of the best corn muffins and hamburgers. Bottom line is I’m not losing any weight while my wife is gone.

But boy, I sure miss that woman.

It’s amazing how lonely I get without her. I’m constantly looking for things to fill my time. Then I realized I could burn some of these brush piles. Ann goes nuts when I burn them while she’s home. If she sees one puff of smoke just before dark, she insists I pour water all over it.

She doesn’t understand that burning brush is one of my life’s

“We can’t command our love, but we can our actions.” - Arthur Conan Doyle

“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.� - Robert Frost

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life’s little pleasures. The only person I know who enjoys it more is my younger sister, Paulette.

Our experience goes back to our childhood. I need to regress a little here and explain. I now know I was really lucky I was raised so close to my grandparents.

My father’s parents only lived a quarter-mile from us, and my grandfather retired from the plant when I was about 12. He threw himself into improving his hundred-acre farm.

Papaw, as I called him, was a large man with an even bigger temper. He was without a doubt the most stubborn person in our family. Ann tells me I must be related to him.

Life was always exciting around Papaw, as he and Mamaw had nine children.

The two youngest sons were only four and six years older than I was. They were often the recipients of Papaw’s anger.

I remember once while watching him replace the shingles on the smokehouse, his temper got the best of him. He’d spent all morning cutting the shingles from a large white oak and was getting tired.

As he started replacing some of the old shingles, he hit his thumb with the hammer instead of the nail he was aiming for, and boy did he get mad.

He hurled that hammer as far as he could throw it.

Then he took a break.

After resting and drinking some water, he climbed up to return to his task. In the midst of his anger, he’d totally forgotten what had happened to the hammer. He began to yell to his wife, “Mandy, those God-blame boys have hidden my hammer again!”

God-blame was his favorite cuss word. They’d been married for more than 50 years, so my grandmother didn’t even respond. I saw where the hammer had landed and retrieved it for him.

He blushed and said, “Now don’t tell your Mamaw.” Then he said, “Come over early tomorrow, and I’ll make you that bow I’ve been promising you.”

I was there before he even finished breakfast the next morning and he ate his breakfast before daybreak. Thirty minutes after entering the woods Papaw had cut and split a small hickory tree.

When we returned to the workshop he began work with a sharp drawing knife. Two hours later I was the proud owner of a 5-foot bow that would shoot an arrow more than 200 yards.

I thought I was Robin Hood of the North Georgia Mountains.

I begged my mother to take me to the Western Auto Store in Blue Ridge.

I only bought two arrows.

They were 25 cents each and I only had 50 cents from selling Grits (that’s another story).

Now back to the story of Paulette and me. One winter’s day we had 2 inches of snow. In the field below our house was a large patch of broom sage. You can recognize it by the tall straws and dead growth around the base. This grass was sticking up above the snow.

I’d just watched a western the night before and saw the Indians shooting fire arrows into the cabins of the settlers. So I decided to shoot fire arrows right into the base of that broom

When we returned to the workshop he began work with a sharp drawing knife. Two hours later I was the proud owner of a 5-foot bow that would shoot an arrow more than 200 yards.

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Rule 10 for a Happy Marriage: It takes two to make a quarrel, and the one in the wrong is the one who does the most talking.

sage. It took a few shoots, as I wasn’t very good at that stage in my life.

I finally did hit in a couple of places, and the last one caught fire with a 6-inch blaze. This is when we got in trouble. The heat from the fire melted the snow, and the wind began to spread the fire with alarming speed.

Remember, we were just kids, so we had no clue how to put out the fire we’d started. I tried my best to stomp it out, but it just kept spreading. I was so desperate I yelled at Paulette to go get our daddy.

Yes, we knew that meant there’d be consequences later, but the fire was moving towards the wood line and if it wasn’t stopped before it got there, we’d have a forest fire on our hands.

Yes, of course we were punished, but my mind has erased that a long time ago.

Being raised on a farm, Paulette and I built hundreds of brush piles. In the spring we’d cut corn stalks and pile dead bean and

pea plants on top of them. We’d always build the brush piles in the middle of the garden and when we set it on fire we knew our job was done.

Over the years we also made a lot of brush piles from tree limbs and sprouts.

Daddy would heat our house with wood and he’d cut wood for our fireplace and Mamaw’s potbelly stove in her living room. Really, when I think about it, we hated piling up the brush – especially pine brush. It would cut and scratch and cause an itchy, painful cut.

But when it was complete, we had our revenge by watching the brush burn. On cold days it would also provide a warming heat.

As I write this, I now realize the real reason I like to burn them is that it signifies the job is complete and in most cases the area we were working in was now neat and clean.

To this day, watching a brush pile burn brings back many wonderful times with my family.

“Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.” - H. L. Mencken

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MAMAW AND PAPAW Local author Raland J. Patterson shares moral-teaching memories courtesy of his grandparents

I SHOULD HAVE ASKED As far back as I can remember, my Mamaw Patterson was the unofficial doctor of the family. She always had a salve, poultice or tea-like concoction that tasted just awful, but always seemed to work.

My first memory was when I was in elementary school. Back then when school let out for the summer, we took off our shoes until fall. There was a large ditch just below Mamaw’s house, and over the years rainwater from Old Highway 5 had cut the ditch down to about four or five feet.

In some places it had made deep holes and the edges collected sand. We liked to play in these sand piles. One day as I tried to jump as far as I could across the ditch, I came down

THE LIE I’ve written a lot about my Papaw Patterson. Mostly about his hot temper and his favorite curse word “God Blame.”

I’ve also written about his wonderful ability to create beautiful things with his hands. One example is the bow he made for me out of a hickory branch.

He had another side of him that only his grandkids saw. He seemed to have a nickname for each of his 20-plus grandchildren. The one that sticks out in my mind was for my cousin, Noble Lou. My uncle Bud only lived 200 yards from Papaw and when she was around 3 or 4, Papaw began calling her his little snowbird. I don’t know if she realizes it, but he called her that until he died at age 72.

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“I can live without money, but I cannot live without love.” - Judy Garland

I SHOULD HAVE ASKED a broken bottle and it cut a gash about 2 inches long on the ball of my left foot.

I hobbled up to Mamaw’s back porch and she came out and asked, “Buck, what have you done to yourself?”

I explained and she sat me down on the edge of the porch, went inside and returned with a wash pan of water, a white cloth and a needle and thread. As she washed my foot, she warned, “I need to sew this up, son, before the feeling comes back.”

Then she sewed it up just like she was hemming a dress. As hard as I tried, I can’t remember if it hurt at the time as I was fascinated watching her.

Years later when I was attending her viewing at the funeral home (she lived to be 92) one of my cousins told me a story. His younger brother had fallen off a wagon and broken his arm in two places. Mamaw had set it, put splints on it and wrapped it tightly in a bandage. My cousin said his brother’s arm had healed perfectly straight.

He showed me his own arm that had a slight bend. He said a real doctor from Ellijay had fixed his arm and that he realized now he should have gone to see his Aunt Mandy instead.

Over the years, Mamaw (Mandy Patterson) sewed up my foot two more times. Being barefoot as a kid resulted in plenty more cuts.

As I got older, my parents started taking me to the doctor for my stitches. Like my cousin, those stitches left visible scars.

The three cuts Mamaw stitched never left a mark. We both decided she had magic in her fingers, but now I know the difference was she doctored us with love. My theory is true love never leaves a scar.

My first year in college I caught bronchitis. For almost two days I couldn’t stop coughing. I used up all the cough syrup I had and discovered if I swallowed a mouthful of toothpaste it would help for a little while.

The next morning I went straight to the dispensary and the nurse on duty took my temperature and called the doctor. After examining me, he told me I had pneumonia and put me on bed rest until my parents could come get me and cautioned me I would probably have

THE LIE I loved to slip off from the house and go see Papaw. I knew exactly where he’d be – in his rocking chair with his feet propped above his head against the porch column. He’d be looking out over the garden. I need to point out the garden was Mamaw’s domain. He just sat and admired her achievements.

She had christened me with the nickname of Buck. Like in all happy marriages, once the wife does something, the husband never tries to change it.

Papaw treated each of his grandchildren differently. It made us all feel special. As soon as he’d see me hit the edge of the yard he’d say, “Just the man I need to see. I’ve got a new project for us.”

I remember one special one. He said we’re going to make me a hat rack. If you’re like me, you’re probably thinking a 6-foot-tall pole with legs at the bottom and pins at the top to hold the hats.

I was so excited to see him head to the tool shed and get his razor sharp axe. But instead of going to the woods, we headed towards an old field overgrown with young tree sprouts. We waded through the briars and brush until he spotted just the one he wanted.

It was a shock when he cut a dogwood with a trunk just a little smaller than a broom handle. He cut off the top branches leaving a stick about 4 feet long. Then we went to the tool shed and he removed all the bark.

When he cut it to size, it was only 18 inches long with a turned-up limb about 6 inches long which made a perfect place to put your hat. I just knew he was going to nail that to a pole, but he surprised me again.

We walked up to the house and went inside. He placed the stick up against the door jamb of his bedroom door and hung the rack with two nails. As he placed his hat, he smiled and said, “Good job.”

After he died, Mamaw lived by herself in their house for another 20 years. Every time I visited her over the years I would sit in his rocking chair and look at his bare hat rack with sadness.

“If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were.” - Richard Bach

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I SHOULD HAVE ASKED a cough for the rest of my life.

When I think back and remember the doctor telling me I’d probI’d been home for a few days when Mamaw walked down to see ably have a nagging cough the rest of my life, I realized the real me. She asked, “Buck, do you want me to fix that cough for you?” facts were I didn’t have another cough until just a few years ago.

I told her I’d do whatever she said. She handed me a brown paper I’d love to have another quart jar of that tea, but no one knows bag and said, “Go over in the woods and fill this poke with dead exactly how she made it. I should have asked. chestnut leaves and bring them I asked my Aunt Jewell if back to me.” she knew how her mother I’d been home for a few days when Mamaw I did exactly what she said, and made it and she said walked down to see me. She asked, “Buck, do had the next day she brought me a she didn’t know for sure, quart jar filled with an awful lookyou want me to fix that cough for you?” I told but said she boiled it for a of hours and then ing brown liquid. She handed it to her I’d do whatever she said. She handed me couple my mother and said, “Give him a strained it to remove the cupful every hour until it’s gone.” sticks and leaves. She a brown paper bag and said, “Go over in the thought she put in some Saying it tasted bad would be woods and fill this poke with dead chestnut an understatement. The fact that brown sugar, but had no idea how much. She also I hated the taste of tea might have leaves and bring them back to me.” something to do with just how bad said she felt sure she poured in a half of a cup it tasted to me. But the next day I of whiskey. I know for sure she put in a lot of love. I know now I was spitting up stuff and had stopped coughing by nightfall. That should have asked her. night I slept better than I had in quite a while.

THE LIE Needless to say, I loved to hang out with my grandparents. Papaw had some exotic habits. He loved squirrel brains with his eggs in the morning. And before you even ask – no, I never tried them. I kind of regret that now.

One day as I entered his yard, he said, “Let’s go squirrel hunting.” I just knew I’d died and gone to heaven. We walked all over the mountain behind his house and it was tough as it’s the tallest mountain between Blue Ridge and McCaysville and is near Gravely Gap. Trying to impress him, I kept trying to spot a squirrel first. Finally I found a tall oak with several holes each about the size of a baseball. I stood and strained my eyes, just trying to find him a squirrel. Finally he looked around and noticed me staring at that tree.

“Did you see one?” he asked. I’m not sure why I said it, but I snapped back, “I saw something.” Papaw turned and said, “Let’s go get my axe.”

It was a little less than half a mile back to the shed, and when he got back he began to chop down that tree. He’d worked in a sawmill as a young man and could cut both left and right handed. He would stand in front of the tree and cut on the right side and then without moving begin cutting on the left side. When it fell, the stump would look like someone had cut it with a saw.

As I watched I kept praying that even though I hadn’t seen a squirrel, there would be one inside that old oak. In no time the tree was falling. Papaw grabbed his gun and waited.

You guessed it – no squirrel. I guess I wanted him to be mad at me and tell me I was a liar, but all he said as he picked up his ax was, “I guess it must have escaped when we went for that ax.”

There were many nights I couldn’t sleep because of that little lie I told my Papaw. I’m over 70 years old now and I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was a lesson I carried with me through 22 years in the Army and 18 years as a Financial Planner.

Little lies can hurt just as badly as a big one.

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“We are all born for love. It is the principle of existence, and its only end.” - Benjamin Disraeli

GRANNY GRUMP gets her groove back

As the winter season draws near, I seem to go into a nostalgic mode, thinking about things that I have been blessed to be a part of over the years.

I conjure as many happy memories as I can, and try to encourage my daughter, Charlee, to reminisce about the things she has enjoyed over the past year, and see what are worth repeating!

What an incredible year it has been! So much going on in our family! First I found out I’m gaining a daughter-in-law, then I found out I will be a grandmother in March!! I’m so proud to see my children doing well! They make my heart swell with pride!

Thinking about my own kids oft make my thoughts seem to drift to my mom, who in my eyes was amazing, or in her self-proclaimed name, Granny Grump.

I tell you what, that lady was something else! Everyone that knew her loved her! She and I had our ESP thing going on, even though she lived in Tennessee. One day I was trying to get the dishes washed, and kept getting that feeling to call her.

So I did.

When she answered, she was in an exceptionally good mood (except asking what took so long to get the ESP, which I was actually ignoring). We were chatting, and she mentioned something about getting a new car.

I said, “Wait, what? You got a new car? What kind?”

“Never above you. Never below you. Always beside you.” - Walter Winchell

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In her true Granny Grump fashion, she said it’s white. She then started telling me that she didn’t really MEAN to buy a new car, that it just kinda happened. She went to the lot because she had dealt with them for years and needed an oil change.

While they were working on her car, she strolled over to a cute little white car and was talking to her salesman friend, who told her to take it for a spin. She ended up spinning it all the way home!!

Her only issue with it was that it didn’t really have back seats, just kind of a molded area to look like seats in the back.

I could almost hear the record screeching in my brain as I asked AGAIN, “Mom, exactly what kind of car DID you buy?”

She had to go outside and look, and said she wasn’t sure, but it’s a Dodge and spelled it for me. S-T-E-A-L-T-H. As I tried to clean up the tea I just spewed, I exclaimed, “MOM! YOU BOUGHT A STEALTH???” She was so calm and was like “Yeah, why?” I just laughed and laughed as I gathered my things together for a quick trip to Tennessee.

It sure was a pretty car!

I tell ya, we had some fun times in that little car! Granny Grump wasn’t such a granny when she got behind the wheel of that car! Late one night we had gone to my sister’s house, and as we were leaving, she had some teenagers that wanted to trade her their Camaro for her car.

She gently declined, and we saw them on the bypass very shortly after. They were acting like they were gonna race her,

going ahead a little, then backing off. Mom got a little quicker, so did they. They were laughing at the thoughts of blowing her doors off, as they had stated earlier.

Mom just gave them the “watch this, boys” look, and I watched their smiles disappear as we left them as if they were sitting still, mouths gaped open!

I must admit, the driving thing runs deep in our blood. Did you know that you can, in fact, get both front tires of a minivan off the ground? It wasn’t really intentional to jump the van, but that hill in the middle of nowhere was just too fun!

I’m not sure where that thing that started hanging down was really supposed to go, but the van still worked…so why worry, right?

My poor van…it has been the Best.Van. EVER! It has 270,000 miles on it and it’s still ticking! Literally…I think the engine could go at any day. But I can’t complain about it at all; it has worked hard its short life!

It has been where vans shouldn’t go, has jumped a few hills, got us through several icy situations, has hauled loads that would work a truck. The DMV was surprised that that was the vehicle that Chelci used to get her driver’s license, and she aced her driving test, even parallel parking!

But the best part, as Charlee said, she grew up in that van!

I was blessed enough to get another vehicle, but we can’t let the old van go! Besides, I think we would have had to pay Ronnie Thompson to take it…so we kept it!

HAPPY MEMORIES!

WE NEED YOUR HELP! The Best of the North Georgia Mountains is looking for out-of-the-ordinary residents to interview and share their stories with our readers.

If you know of someone who qualifies, or if YOU are that someone, give us a call at 706-463-0175!

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“Assumptions are the termites of relationships.” - Henry Winkler

SWEETS for the SWEET Making your own chocolate candy can be a fun activity for Valentine’s Day Are you looking for a fun way to spend Valentine’s Day? Start a new tradition and make candy with your family! You’ll have a blast, plus end up with yummy treats you can eat and share with friends!

We all know that I am not afraid to try something new, and that is exactly what I

os t o h p d n a y r N Sto A M W NE A I H was doing T by

when I decided to give candy making a shot.

I have never made any type of candy before and decided to pick a couple types that look relatively easy.

I chose chocolate covered pretzels and peanut butter cups. The hardest thing about making them is melting the chocolate properly. I never knew that chocolate was so fussy, but you must keep it at a low temperature and melt it slowly - that is called tempering. I’ll tell you how I did it.

Tempering chocolate -You can use a

late is Tempering choco

the first step.

double boiler, but I didn’t have one so I made my own. A small saucepan with a couple inches of boiling water topped with a heat safe Fiestaware bowl on top worked just fine. Make sure your bowl is absolutely dry inside. Once the water is boiling in the pan, the bowl will be heated by the steam.

“How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours.” - Wayne Dyer

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Put half your chocolate in the bowl and stir; once it starts melting, turn off the heat and add the rest of your chocolate. The heat from the bowl will get it all melted, and you don’t have to worry about it overheating.

Fancy Candy Pretzels 6 pretzel logs 3/4 cup chocolate chips (or mini chocolate bars) Sprinkles, chopped nuts, candy melts for decorating Cookie sheet with waxed paper on it Once you’ve got warm and gooey chocolate, just hold the pretzel log over the bowl and spoon the chocolate over about 3/4 of it. Leave the part you are holding bare. When you have a nice coating of chocolate, roll it in nuts or sprinkles, and lay it on wax paper.

After you’ve done all six, put the logs in the fridge for 10 minutes so they will harden. If you leave a couple logs with just chocolate you can decorate them later with a second color of melted chocolate, or Wilton’s Candy Melts. I used red.

Above, ingredients for making Fancy Candy Pretzels. Inset, coating the pretzels with warm and gooey chocolate. Below, peanut butter cups.

Peanut Butter Cups Plastic peanut butter cup mold 2/3 cup chocolate chips (or mini chocolate

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“Falling in love and having a relationship are two different things.” - Keanu Reeves

Decorating the pretzels above left, making peanut butter cups, below, and the finished goodies, above right.

chocolate bars) Filling 6 tablespoons peanut butter 3 tablespoons confectioner’s sugar 1 tablespoon softened butter a pinch of salt I bought a plastic mold that was less than $2 and is reusable and has space to make 11 small peanut butter cups.

Start by making 2/3 of your chips into tempered chocolate. You are just doing the bottom and sides of the cups first. By the tablespoonful pour the chocolate in the bottom 1/4 of each section of the mold and then with your spoon push some chocolate all around the sides until you have formed a chocolate bowl in each. Put the mold in the refrigerator for 10 minutes to harden.

While you are waiting, mix up your filling. I just put it all the ingredients, peanut butter, confectioner’s sugar, butter and salt in a bowl and stirred it well. Now put a heaping tablespoon of the peanut butter mixture in each of your chocolate cups.

Bang the mold on the table until the peanut butter flattens leaving you about a 1/8 inch space on top. Put them back in the fridge for 10 minutes to set your peanut butter centers.

When those are set, melt the rest of your chocolate. Top each mold off with more melted chocolate until it’s full. Bang the tray on the counter again to flatten and level the tops. Put the mold back in the fridge again for 10 more minutes.

Once the chocolate is hardened you can pop them out of the mold and enjoy!

This was a candy making experiment for me, but yet look what I ended up with!

I think they came out pretty nice, and they tasted really good, too!

Feel free to play around with your measurements to suit your taste. I also melted some Wilton’s red Candy Melts to decorate my chocolates.

You really can’t go wrong with whatever you do, because anything you make will taste delicious!

These ended up looking like something you bought at a gourmet candy store for a lot of money, when actually they are inexpensive and easy to do.

Let us know what you end up making.

Wishing you and your family a happy and very sweet Valentine’s Day!

Pure marital bliss

Phil and Judy Byler of Epworth have been serving God around the world since He brought the couple together nearly half a century ago!

For Phil and Judy Byler of Epworth, Ga., music was the language that introduced them more than 50 years ago.

It’s been a lifetime of love ever since.

Their definition of bliss, however, definitely won’t be found in the dictionary.

The vows they exchanged on July 11, 1964, in the Epworth First Baptist Church, were simply their latest duet directed by God Himself.

He’s still with them today, as they make beautiful music together, more than 51 years later.

Judy Ballew grew up in Epworth and played the saxophone in the grammar school band. Because of her talent, she was loaned to the West Fannin High School Band. Enter newly arrived sophomore band member Philip Byler. His pastor father had accepted a church in neighboring McCaysville, and Phil was trying to fit in. Judy became upset because fellow band students didn’t treat

s

By John Shiver

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PHOTO BY JOHN SHIVERS

Judy and Phil Byler are still making beautiful music for the Lord.

“The relationship between husband and wife should be one of closest friends.” - B. R. Ambedkar

The Bylers at work in the mission field.

him in the most Christian-like manner.

While practicing on the football field one night, the band took cover from a sudden storm. Judy got caught in a fence and was getting soaked. Phil raced out to rescue her, only to say, “I might have known it was you.” To which

Judy shot back, “I’ll grow up some day and marry you, and you’ll be stuck with me!”

Through music, the two were constantly together. Phil was extremely self-conscious because of his beanpole frame, acne, and bad teeth. He graduat-

ed, joined the Navy, put on 50 pounds, got his teeth fixed, and acquired a uniform. What woman could resist a man in uniform, he asked? So he returned to the school where Judy was still a student and wowed everyone who saw him. Judy decided her frog had turned

“Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.” - Washington Irving

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Judy dressed the part when overseas.

into a prince. Phil jokingly describes himself as “a humble, handsome hunk of humanity.”

Judy graduated with a wedding planned for a year later. But God, who had been a part of their individual lives

long before either of them knew the other, directed otherwise. Phil’s military obligations mandated that they marry within three weeks, or put the wedding on hold indefinitely. They were in God’s hands. Judy, almost 18, left with

her new husband and God, to live on a military base, away from Epworth for the first time in her life. It would be 45 years before they returned to Epworth to live, and help care for Judy’s mother.

But what a 45 years it was!

The Bylers have held church wherever the Lord led them, including this barn.

Long before they met, each knew that serving God would be their life. Marriage only deepened those convictions.

But even they couldn’t have foreseen

the many diverse directions God’s guiding would take them.

After leaving the military, the couple launched into full-time ministry in the

Baptist denomination. Later, they felt led into non-denominational ministry. Phil the shepherd led new congregations to form, and faltering congregations to

harvests of souls resulted. In the former Soviet Bloc counfind new life, and the couple lived in Georgia, Pennsylvania, tries, they were illegally smuggled across borders along with Maryland and Florida.

They held church in their home, in the homes of others, in contraband Bibles.

“It was never about the money,” Phil says. “I’d preach storefronts they had to clean out first. More than once a barn anywhere God asked me to.” But their ability to serve God was shoveled out, and worship happened. In single-wide mowas possible because of friends, family and colleagues who bile homes and, when times were better, in double-wide moprayed, wrote checks, and did grunt work. bile homes, Phil preached the gospel of Jesus Christ. Once “We couldn’t have done it without them,” Judy says. a derelict school bus was rehabbed for a children’s Sunday Phil and Judy have recently battled major health problems, School area.

“Whenever we needed more space, the Lord would help us and admit they lack the physical stamina they once had.

“But you don’t stop serving the Lord until you stop breathfind something,” they explained. Judy worked alongside as ing,” Phil emphasizes. They want to deposit the things God the pastor’s wife, but also as a Christian has given them with the next genservant in her own right. And they always “One thing God gave us was the eration. had music. ability to adapt to whatever was put Judy references the book SeWith a tear of joy in her voice, Judy in front of us. Those days brought crets of the Vine, where the author recounts those experiences. “One thing us closer together, brought us to our explains how the oldest fruit vines God gave us was the ability to adapt to whatever was put in front of us. Those knees, and made us more reliant on receive the most severe pruning, ensuring that their final harvest will days brought us closer together, brought Him. be their finest. She and Phil take us to our knees, and made us more - JUDY BYLER comfort and encouragement from reliant on Him. There were some really those words. rough times,” she recalls. “I wouldn’t take Their love story with God, they say, has blessed them imanything for them.”

After leaving the pastorate, they became missionaries and mensely. With a son, a daughter, and seven grandchildren, they rejoice that each has a personal relationship with God. church consultants, and journeyed overseas. Seventeen countries for Phil, who has worn out two passports, and some Phil has a double doctorate in Religious Education and Divinity, and Judy has a doctorate in Pastoral Counseling. They fewer trips for Judy. are both ordained ministers along with their daughter, and Political instability was constant, but some of the biggest their son who is a seventh-generation full-time pastor on the Byler side.

Today, Phil and Judy are still serving, this time at Epworth United Methodist Church. Judy is the pianist and teaches a Sunday School class, and Phil is the director of congregational care and leads the music. It’s almost as if nothing has changed from those bandroom days.

But it has changed. It’s gotten better. “We laugh. We cry.

We even get upset with each other,” Judy says. “Yeah,” Phil quips, “but our lives are an example of reality. Nothing fairytale or make believe.”

Actually, it’s pure bliss… just Phil and Judy and God.

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“We are afraid to care too much, for fear that the other person does not care at all.” - Eleanor Roosevelt

There’s just no place like the mountains of home Rejoice, O earth! Burst into song, O mountains!

For the LORD has comforted his people and will have compassion on them in their suffering.

Isaiah 49:13 NLT I used to work in Cartersville, a small city in the foothills of the north Georgia mountains. Driving home from work I would be especially tired. My job dealt in conversing with folk about their problems all day. By the end of the day I was exhausted.

There were several ways I could have driven to come home. Highway 411 took me through Fairmount, a small town just east of where I live. The drive is very picturesque but is a tad longer than just driving straight up Interstate 75 to Calhoun.

Or I could have driven Highway 41 which took me through the historical small town of Adairsville.

There are lovely views of country fields and rolling hills on Highway 41. However, that drive also takes

a bit longer than Interstate 75 to Calhoun.

Calhoun is my home. Nestled amongst the mountains on all sides our roads are curvy with a landscape of rolling hills. I have never lived anywhere else. For that matter, I have never wanted to live anywhere else. My home is Calhoun.

I have traveled to other places that are just as beautiful in their own way. New Orleans is one of my favorite places with the French Quarter and all the old cemeteries. ( I know. I’m weird). Of course I have to mention Cafe Dumond with its chicory coffee and delicious beignets. There are many other beautiful places I have been to in the United States. But none compare to Calhoun, Georgia.

When I was especially tired I drove Interstate 75 to come home from work. The traffic was faster and I got home quicker. That’s what I wanted, to get

By Kathi Chastain

home. I wasn’t as interested in the view as I was the speed. Speed I did, on I-75.

However, Highway 411 or Highway 41 weren’t the only drives with a view. When you reach mile marker 303 on I-75 you are on top of a hill. This is a hill with an amazing view. In every direction you look you see mountains. The wonderful, comforting mountains of north Georgia. The mountains of home.

When I reach this view I know I am almost there. I am almost home. My heart swells with love for God and His exquisite view of these wonderful mountains. In the evening the sun is setting on these mountains. They are covered in the glorious colors of the sunset, the pinks, oranges, purples, and blues.

When I reach mile marker 303 and gaze upon these mountains I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz must have felt. There’s no place like home!

Grace and peace to you. Amen.

“Once a woman has forgiven her man, she must not reheat his sins for breakfast.” - Marlene Dietrich

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As some of you may know, I am from New Jersey. I moved to Florida in 1973. I now live in Coosawattee for seven months and in Florida for five. I consider Ellijay my home.

When I got back to Florida in November it made me think of my first year in Florida. I’d become friends with a few guys at work, and they decided to go fishing one night on a charter boat that is sometimes referred to as a “head” boat, or a “party” boat. It’s basically a bunch of guys drinking and fishing.

I did a lot of fishing in New Jersey, but mostly fresh water fishing. I had only been on a boat in the ocean just once, and got seasick. Not fun. That had been a long time ago, and I was hesitant to go out again.

My friends talked me into it. It was going to be a great night with the guys. We all met at a Mexican place before the trip to eat. We had tacos, hot sauce, beer, burritos, hot sauce, beer, chili, hot sauce and more beer.

The boat was docked in an inlet in Pompano Beach, Fla. We boarded the boat about 6:30 p.m. I felt it rocking slightly. None of my friends felt it. They said it was just my imagination.

The boat was to leave at 7 p.m. and return at 11 p.m. My stomach started to feel uneasy after about 10 minutes of this slight rocking. I started to feel sick and threw up my first taco about 6:50 before we even left the dock. I didn’t tell my friends about this. Only one guy that I didn’t know was a witness to this.

At 7:10 as we were heading out of the inlet, I threw up my second taco. The same guy was in the bathroom called the “head” and saw me “hurl” for the second time. It wasn’t funny

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to me, but it sure made that guy laugh. It seems there’s not much compassion on a fishing boat.

My friends still didn’t know about it, and that was good because I didn’t want to be the subject of ridicule for the rest of the trip.

So let’s recap this.

I have now thrown up (hurled) two times before we even got out to the ocean and I still have three hours and 50 minutes to go before I step foot on land again. Not quite the start I was hoping for. Also it was not a good choice of food before the trip. Not to mention the hot sauce.

I made it to the deck where we were to sit on a row of seats that faced a rail. This is where we were going to spend the rest of the time on the boat fishing off the rail. All my friends were sitting next to me on my right side. As luck may have it, the guy that saw me hurl twice in the “head” ended up sitting on my left side with his friends.

He looked at me and yelled out, “Hey, this is the guy I was talking about.” His friends all start to laugh. They start talking about how it must be some kind of a record to hurl twice before you even reach the ocean.

Now my friends were ribbing me, too. At this point, I was a little too sick to care and just wanted this trip to end. By now the boat was moving at a good pace to get to the reef where we would start fishing.

We all had a rod and bait and were ready to fish. So far, for the last 20 minutes all had been good. We stopped at the reef and threw our lines in the water. Because the boat was not moving, it started to rock back and forth and that was not a good feeling for me. I could also smell the diesel fumes.

I cast my line into the water and in less than a minute, I got a bite and hooked a fish. As I was pulling on the rod, my line broke, the rod hit me right in the face just as I felt sick again.

I got up, made it over the chair and headed to the “head.”

I opened the door step into the “head” with my hand on the side of the door. As I was closing the door, the boat rocked, and the door slammed shut with my fingers caught in the door jamb.

When you have to hurl, you have to hurl. I turned to my right, hurled into the sink which was right by the door with my fingers still stuck in the door jamb. Up came the burritos and to my dismay, the hot sauce.

My fingers were stuck in the jamb and I’m bent over hurling in sink. Not the kind of snapshot you want to be remembered by.

“I was born when you kissed me. I died when you left me. I lived a few weeks while you loved me.” - Humphrey Bogart

Love and gratitude have a whole lot in common Valentine’s Day is coming around once again, that day where love takes a front seat and romance, flowers, and chocolate are everywhere you turn.

It’s a great day to look forward to when you are in love, but not everyone has that same experience. If you are someone that dreads the “heart day” we call Valentine’s, let me try to bring a new perspective – through gratitude.

Gratitude pours from us when things are going well, but when despair, loneliness and challenges are what we face, we can easily get overcome and forget to be grateful. The funny thing is, gratitude changes things, and if we can remember to focus on being grateful in all situations, challenges become easier and joyful feelings follow.

Sounds easy for me to say, but let me share more.

I am a full-on stereotypical hopeless romantic - and I also happen to be single, so if I want chocolate or flowers (of which I adore both) for Valentine’s, I head to the store and get them myself.

Just because I do not have a current romantic relationship does not mean love is not in the air, this time or any time of the year.

I am surrounded by people who love me and am reminded daily how easy it is to show others love.

Love and gratitude have a lot in common – you cannot ever run out of them, no matter how much you give others. In fact, you will find your reserves of love and gratitude exponentially increase the more

RANDOM THOUGHTS

I got the door open, freed my fingers from the jamb and cleaned myself up as best as I could and walked outside hopefully unnoticed.

But noooooooo. All my friends were waiting for me to come out. They were laughing, offering me a beer, calling me “Casper” because I looked as white as a ghost.

My hand was throbbing and turning blue but I was too sick to care. I had had it as far as fishing goes so I went downstairs to see if that would be any better. It was not. It seems the only people that go down there are the ones that are sick.

you spread them.

So when things are going tough and challenges keep popping up, take a moment, take a deep breath – then be thankful for that breath.

Might as well take another, then another, and before you know it, you have calmed some of the craziness inside and you can find other things to be grateful for. Love, respect, health, knowledge, clothing, shelter, water – when we really look around, despite challenges, most of us have quite a bit we take for granted.

We forget to look at the beauty in the mirror, the love inside and the talents and gifts we have.

So this Valentine’s, regardless of your situation, do something nice for someone, start with yourself, then maybe another, heck maybe even one more – be that person that gives love and gratitude and watch it multiply back to you with yet another reason to be grateful.

Here is hoping you are able to find something every day to be thankful for….grateful for you, enjoy your day! 

Some guy sitting next to me with three teeth in his mouth said I should line my stomach with something. He offered me a half-eaten tuna sandwich. I looked at him, then the sandwich and the three teeth and I hurled again, getting rid of the chili and the hot sauce.

I still had about two hours to go and I didn’t have anything left inside of me. Did that stop me from hurling? Nooooooo. Now the dry heaves started. Two more times of that which anyone who has been sick knows is far worse, but finally the trip was over.

I stepped foot on LAND. Best part of

the night. My friends were still making jokes as we were walking to the car.

They were calling it the “best trip ever.”

I can take a joke and as long as I was now on land and not sick anymore thought it was funny also. But I was not laughing.

Someone said they were hungry, so we went to a diner to eat. Surprisingly I was hungry too. I don’t have a weak stomach; I just can’t take that rocking back and forth. We all had breakfast, and no, I didn’t order the breakfast burrito with hot sauce. Have I ever gone deep sea fishing again?

Noooooooooo.

“A healthy relationship is built on unwavering trust.” - Beau Mirchoff

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