Happy Birthday, Loretta Lynn!

A few years ago, my friend and I took one of the most epic road trips you can possibly take — we went to Mecca.  No, not the “Holy City,” but rather the Holy Estate of The King:  Graceland.  Oh, it was fantastic.  We stayed at The Heartbreak Hotel across the street, along with German Elvis impersonators in wheelchairs.  We made many friends in the elevator, because we were all there for a common purpose: our love of Elvis Aron Presley.  (Though no one freaked out as hard as we did when they saw The Jungle Room. Had we not lost our nerve, we would have crawled over the barrier and been arrested.  It would have been our second run-in with the law in Memphis, but that’s another story for another time.)  It was RAPTUROUS.

We started the trip in Nashville (Cooter’s and The Willie Nelson General Store are MUST SEEs, FYI), and made our way to Memphis after having the biscuit sampler at The Loveless Cafe, of course.  And on the way there we made the greatest pit stop of all time — Loretta Lynn’s Hurricane Mills!

I really, really wish we’d spent more time there — we really only got to stop and eat some deliciously decadent chocolate pecan pie, buy my husband some Loretta Lynn Hot Sauce (for some reason we bought him hot sauce as a souvenir everywhere we went, and he was sort of confused by that), and take in the beauty of this portrait of Loretta with her baby sister, Crystal.


There was also a glamorous tapestry:


And crafts made in a holler (Butcher Holler?) somewhere:


We also witnessed two waitresses and the manager get into a terrible fight, and one of them stormed out while everyone else talked about what a skank she was.  I doubt she works there anymore, but you never know.  That was kind of my favorite part of the whole stop. It was ALMOST Fist City!

All in all, it was really great.  Next time (and there WILL be a next time), I’m going to check out The Dude Ranch, too!  And I will make sure I get a cookbook.  I’m really sad I didn’t get a cookbook, so I NEED to go back.  I need one of those hillbilly cell phones, too.  (What was I thinking, not buying one for everyone I know?  We could have had the friends and family plan!)

But I did get a magnet, so every day when I open my refrigerator, I see Loretta smiling at me in her understanding way and I love her.  Happy Birthday, Coal Miner’s Daughter!

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