Gone To Aunt Bug's

Time for a little R&R. Wendy and I are taking a long weekend, driving down to the Smoky Mountains near Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Staying at Aunt Bug's.

I found Aunt Bug's cabins on the internet. They were not included in the numerous lodging brochures we received in the mail. But I found the name intriguing. It's like advertising yourself as Swampbog Billy's Trailer Park. Or Skeeter Creek Campground.

It's reverse psychology at work. They must be reputable, profitable lodging or else they would have gone out of business long ago. We'll see. I'll report back. But I'll be out of internet contact for a bit first.

This is mine and Wendy's third trip to the Smoky Mountains, the first without kids. When we made our first trip, Greg was seven, Scott four. At Dollywood, they argued over who would occupy the front seat of this one ride.

A costumed young lass employee saw the ruckus, came over and asked them both sweetly, "Are you kin?" They froze with this puzzled look that said, "We're not in Michigan anymore." That was all it took, though. The boys settled down and rode peacefully together.

The last time we vacationed in Tennessee, the boys were both teenagers, but still showed their sibling rivalry. The four of us toured Mysterious Mansion in Gatlinburg during a late night thunderstorm.

Greg led most of the way and arrived at this second floor balcony. The balcony was rigged to tip, giving those standing there the feeling that they were going to topple to the floor below. Greg braced himself awkwardly.

Then, realizing the prank, Greg grabbed his brother and tried to physically drag him to the balcony so Scott too could experience the fear of falling Greg did. Scott fought him off, however.

No fighting this time. Unless Wendy and I fight over which radio station to listen to.