For some people "home" is easy to define. It's where they grew up or where they live now. I have lots of homes. A home is waiting for me in a mansion some day. My earthly homes are more meager though. But of all the places I call or have called home, I have to say that right where I am seems to really fit.
It is so rich here. We have a great little townhouse. The people are friendly and strangers stop you to say hello. There's country charm in abundance. Beauty surrounds you on every hill side and the warm breeze carries with it the smell of wild flowers (or so I imagine since I don't actually have the ability to smell anything).
We spent yesterday exploring our wonderful, new home town. We began with a trip to the local farmers market. I went with every intention of buying everything from locally grown, organic produce to milk and eggs from the farms I pass by everyday on my way home. Turns out local farmers charge a lot for products like milk and eggs (about twice as much.) We did buy some green beans, potatoes, and squash though. After eating some green beans last night I can definitely taste and see why organic, local produce is infinitely better. I just wish our pockets were infinitely deeper so we could afford to buy the other products sold there like milk, eggs, cheese, and meat. Oh well.
After the farmers market we went to the Factory. The Factory began in life as a stove factory. Like all stove factories, I imagine, it dreamt of being something cooler. Now, 50 years later, in the prime of its life it is an awesome little shopping center and home to two churches (and the weekly farmers market camps out in its parking lot). Our church is located in one of the buildings, but most of the shops are closed on Sunday. Actually, most of the town is closed on Sunday. So yesterday we took a walk through. It’s filled to the brim with local crafts, arts, artisan guitars, fancy little restaurants, and an awesome antique dealer. I could have spent a lot of money there yesterday.

After the factory we took a four block trip to down town Franklin. Again, a place filled with cutie-pie shops, fun places to eat, and loads of charm. I found my new favorite clothing shop, though I think none of the clothes in there will fit my largeness. It’s called Philanthropy and its tag line is “Clothing with Compassion.” The store’s filled with awesome products, many of which have portions of the proceeds going to awesome causes like Hands and Feet and Sudan. There was even paper made of recycled Elephant poo. I also found a place where I scored (well a future score) a free hair cut. They need participants to come and get their hair cut so they can train their “Apprentices.” Fancy!
We ate at Puckett’s. Puckett’s is the quintessential definition of Franklin. It’s a replica, filled with authenticity. Franklin is home to the bloodiest battle of the civil war, and one of the last battles of the war. It was here that the Confederates decided they can’t keep up with the Union and should call it quits. Or something to that effect – American history is not my bag. Anyways, there is an original Puckett’s grocery and restaurant in Leiper’s Fork, a nearby farming community. This place has been around since forever – before supermarkets were the trend. It’s a place where you could go pick up what you didn’t grow on your farm and grab a bite to eat while you catch up with other folk. Now there’s a smaller version in downtown Franklin. It’s history and modernity all rolled up into a delicious glass of sweet tea and a yummy burger.

This is Puckett’s, Franklin. They still sell groceries; they’re on the wall behind us.


Our church, located inside the Factory. It’s way cool!

One of the farms on our way to Franklin

There are all these “dry” stone walls, a lot of which have been here since the battle of Franklin.


Downtown Franklin.


This is my favorite picture. Kevin took it yesterday, and I think the angles make it look all artsy. These history signs are about every 10 steps. The civil war history here is sort of a big deal.


This is what I mean about Franklin. Here’s a 100 year old+ building with a Starbucks in it. It’s unique – as in odd.