Stressed? Have an Angel Burger. I mean a Dixie Burger.

So on Sunday afternoon TG and I headed out for Asheville, North Carolina, where I had it in my mind to soak in the local color and take some angel pictures.

The stone kind. (Angels, not pictures. I don't pack a hammer and chisel ... yet.)

I was after two angels in particular. It's a long story but suffice it to say, one is in Asheville and one is in Bryson City, about an hour's drive from Asheville.

There have been two previous attempts by me to photograph these particular angels.

The angels are perfectly cooperative; both endeavors have been thwarted by inclement weather.

When I made the (ironclad) hotel reservation for the twenty-four hours we'd be in Asheville, the local forecast was ideal: sunny with a daytime high just below sixty.

At the point I clicked "confirm your reservation" a telepathic signal was transmitted to all Western North Carolina meteorologists to immediately alter said forecast.

Which they dutifully did. And what did WNC weather end up being on Sunday and Monday?

Rain.

But I didn't let it stop me! After a sopping Sunday, on Monday morning it wasn't actually raining, but only threatening to do so. 

And I am not easily threatened.

Audrey had met us in Asheville because I invited her and she likes the cemetery scene almost as much as I. But I was ready first on Monday, and a trifle anxious to get going, so TG drove me to Riverside Cemetery and dropped me off.

He promised to come back! And because I didn't have a pocket, my cell phone was tucked into the top of my Christmas knee sock (which coordinated with my Christmas sweatshirt).

That way I didn't have to juggle my cell phone and a camera. I had no umbrella; no way was I going to try that.

If it rained for real, I'd head for the little office. Surely they'd let me wait it out for a bit.

As previously established, I'd tried to find this angel before. I knew she decorated the top of a single-family mausoleum and that she was known to often be covered in ivy.

Last time I was at Riverside it was raining in earnest and although I realize now I saw the mausoleum in question, it was from the roadpath and I was in the car and couldn't get up close to see the name: McElveen.

If that name is engraved across the top of the mausoleum, it cannot be seen either because y'all, if they don't trim the foliage back soon, that mausie will never be seen by anyone again.

"They" being any one of the four big, strong, healthy men who, when I went into the cemetery office to check on the exact coordinates of the McElveen mausoleum, were sitting around talking, enjoying morning coffee.

Their work trucks were so attractively arranged outside!

At any rate I located the McElveen six-plex (half of which is mysteriously open and empty) and as I feared, the angel topper is presently shrouded in enough verdant vinery to choke an elephant.

A nearby angel ponders the whole thing from her impressive pedestal.

Ivy leave my sought-after angel is under the greenery. TG says I must lobby the indolent cemetery workers to get up there and exfoliate her so that I can come back a third time and take her picture. 

He even said if the "workmen" would loan him a ladder, he'd get up there and do it himself! Now that is love.

It did not escape my notice that one of the three McElveens who remain interred in the mausoleum lived to the age of forty-two and shared a birthday with my grandson.

It didn't take me long to get the photos of the ivy swamping the angel and it still wasn't raining, so I decided to wander.

The terrain of Riverside is wild and often steep, and I was alone which is just the way I like it.

I clambered like a mountain goat -- never fell on my face a single time, you would've been so proud -- over several wooded acres and only once had to seek shelter from rain on the porch of a beefy-columned mausoleum with very elaborate bronze doors.

But in due time I realized my leg was ringing and after allowing that to give me pause for a moment, so absorbed was I in my haunted hike, I retrieved my phone from my sock and answered it.

TG was there and wanted to know where I was. I told him, way over on the left.

We drove the hour to Bryson City where, as the afternoon waned, it was considerably colder.

Our destination was Hillside Cemetery where an angel adorns the grave of Mrs. Fannie Everett Clancy who, before her demise on June 4, 1904, achieved the tender age of twenty.

Because the weather was truly awful at that point and there was very little light to speak of and what there was, was a dark sort of light that is of no use to photographers, this is what I got.

I know, right? Let's go ahead and P'shop the picture beyond all recognition. But I happen to like her against a stark backdrop of bare branches and a rain-white sky on a chilly day near Christmas.

At least she's visible.

Having accomplished what I came there to do I became seized by violent hunger so we descended the bleak hillside and found a place to have a late lunch.

Audrey had about an hour before she needed to head home and I was craving the warmth of my own hearthside.

We stumbled into a place we weren't sure of, being out-of-towners.

The owner greeted us cordially and said he'd once operated thirty-seven restaurants in Tampa, Florida, and that Southern Living had awarded him a "Best Burger in the South" designation.

Turns out that was in 1996 and it wasn't in Bryson City, North Carolina, but as it also turns out, it doesn't matter because since then they've been given an award for Best Burger in North Carolina.

The upshot: If you are ever anywhere near Bryson City, North Carolina, and you are in need of a meal and you like your food delicious, go to Main Street and look for Jimmy Mac's.

Sit yourself down in a window booth. If you're lucky you'll get one like the one we occupied, with the sill all decorated in old dusty moonshine jugs and a black-and-Day-Glo-orange "OPEN/CLOSED" sign shoved in front of them.

The burger menu is diverse and exciting. There is a Cajun Burger, a Hawaiian Burger, a Pizza Burger, an Angel Burger ... wait. There is no Angel Burger! Perhaps they should change that.

TG had the European Burger (cheddar and bacon) and pronounced it delightfully continental. Audrey chose the Soul Burger (barbecue sauce and bacon) and certainly looked soulful as she consumed it.

But take it from me: if you go, order the Dixie Burger. It's thick and juicy and made to order and topped with sauteed onions, perfectly cooked bacon, American cheese, and barbecue sauce. On a massive soft bun.

The steak fries are the model after which all steak fries should be created. Fresh. Piping hot. Slightly crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside.

Our server was adorable and efficient. She is expecting a wee bairn in early February and I wish you could have seen her sweet glowing smile.

Maybe I should just move to Asheville! Now there is a thought. I know where there's space available in a gated community. It's small and unfurnished. It needs some work but is not without charm and the neighbors are very quiet.

That is all! Merry Christmas!

Comments

[Mari]

You never fail to entertain me! Even though the weather didn't cooperate and neither did the workmen who should cut back the ivy, you still persevered, hiked all over and didn't fall and lived to tell the tale!

[Donna (Texas)]

.....LOVE the Angel photos girlie BUT.... You had a juicy BURGER and didn't get a shot????
FOR SHAME!!!Hahaaaaaa
hughugs

[Skunkfeathers]

Mayhaps had you taken the burger(s) with you, the ivy would have parted and the angels would have posed, wolfing a burger down. Stone angels know what they likes ;-)

[irene]

What an unusual adventure, and food too. I'd be climbing to free that angel of the ivy too.