{"id":6152,"date":"2012-10-18T15:04:01","date_gmt":"2012-10-18T22:04:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/?p=6152"},"modified":"2012-10-22T12:37:19","modified_gmt":"2012-10-22T19:37:19","slug":"mountain-country","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/?p=6152","title":{"rendered":"Mountain Country."},"content":{"rendered":"

I know I am fudging it when I say we live in the country.\u00a0 It used<\/strong><\/em> to be the country.\u00a0 When we first moved here the 2 surrounding towns had nothing except for a post office.\u00a0 And the local post office is still only open from 8:30am-12pm and 2pm-4:30pm.\u00a0 In small towns we often close for lunch (or else we’d have to more than 1 employee) and we like to get home before it’s too dark to milk in the winter time.\u00a0 Although postal employees will<\/em><\/strong> call you at 6am if your chicks arrive from the hatchery so you can come pick them up immediately.\u00a0 No one wants to be responsible for dead chicks.\u00a0 Also, the incessant peeping is distracting when you are sorting mail.<\/p>\n

Since our small town exists along a highway, the development eventually arrived.\u00a0 And now both of the surrounding towns are swamped by chain stores of all types along their highway exits.\u00a0 We are now in the graceless age of directions that start with “Get off the exit at the WalMart….”\u00a0 You have to get at least 4 miles away from the highway before the directions start with “Turn at the gravel road where you’ll see old Shambley’s bull in the pasture….”<\/p>\n

I have never been particularly grateful for directions involving bulls.\u00a0 I don’t text and drive but I find it just as dangerous to be scouting bovine nether regions when I’m cruising down the road.\u00a0 We are surrounded by fields of cattle out here and unless there’s a frolicking calf, I’m not sure how people judge gender from a distance.<\/p>\n

But last week I would have loved some directions involving bulls.\u00a0 Because last week I was in the real country.\u00a0 Mountain country.\u00a0 Where development at the exits means there might be a gas station.\u00a0 Maybe.\u00a0 And it might be open.\u00a0 Maybe.\u00a0 But the pumps sure as heck won’t be the kind that take credit cards (Pay Inside First Please) and the owner may just stick her head out the store window while you’re trying to figure out if the metal gas pump with reeled meters is functioning or an antique decoration and announce, “We don’t have any more Regular.\u00a0 It’s $4.15 for Premium or there’s another station just down the road.”<\/p>\n

Therein lies the problem.<\/p>\n

“Down the road” means different things to different people.\u00a0 To me, “down the road” means in a mile or 2 there will be another gas station.\u00a0 To mountain people, “down the road” could mean down the mountain, through the valley, and 2 towns over.<\/p>\n

People, if you are in the mountains and under 1\/4 tank of gas, take the Premium.\u00a0 Trust me on this.\u00a0 Don’t let your big city skepticism fool you into thinking the station owner was trying to scam you into buying Premium.\u00a0 She was not.\u00a0 When she said “down the road,” she was trying to warn you.<\/p>\n

Because the mountains are real country.\u00a0 Those of us who live 4 miles from a WalMart, regardless of how many goats we have in milk or the chicken scraps container we keep on the counter, are just city slickers.\u00a0 Lost city slickers.<\/p>\n

Because there’s another type of directions given in the mountains.\u00a0 It involves the direction-giver pointing into the hazy landscape and saying, “Just go up and around the mountain ’til you get there.”\u00a0 People, this is what that landscape looks like:<\/p>\n

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Oh, I get the “up” part.\u00a0 You’ll know you’re going “up” by the tilt of your seat and the way the ground disappears at the edge of the guard rail.\u00a0 When there is a guard rail and not just a sickening drop off designed to cull the speeders and the careless of the population.\u00a0 Survival of the fittest is alive and well in the mountains.<\/p>\n

And I understand the “around” part.\u00a0 “Around” is the only way to navigate the steep inclines and you’ll know you’re going “around” by the sound of children barfing in the back of the car.\u00a0 But which mountain are we talking about??????\u00a0 I could go up and around mountains all day and never find the one I’m looking for.\u00a0 Shouldn’t there be some kind of virtual labeling system like those yardage lines they have on football games?\u00a0 Or a superimposed directional device like the Batman beacon?\u00a0 When you’re driving “up and around” in the mountains shouldn’t the view look like this?<\/p>\n

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I mean, what is technology for if not to keep us from getting lost in the mountains?\u00a0 How many iPhones will need to be developed before they can tell me how to get back to my hot tub?\u00a0 C’mon, IT people, c’mon.<\/p>\n

Because as anyone who has been lost can tell you, being lost is bad for family unity.\u00a0 It starts out with a bit of heavy sighing.\u00a0 Then someone says, “Do you really think this is the right way?”\u00a0 Then someone else says, “I’m not saying you’re wrong but….”\u00a0 Then someone else says, “Did you see that sign?”\u00a0 To which someone else replies, “Well, if you weren’t driving so fast I would have seen it.”\u00a0 To which someone else replies “Well, do you<\/strong> want to drive?”\u00a0 Which results in “Well, don’t you<\/strong> want to stop and ask for directions?”\u00a0 Before you know it this progresses to “Well, maybe if you remembered the GPS!” and the eventual “Well, of course, I have to remember everything!”\u00a0 Sooner or later someone says, “Well, maybe next time you<\/strong> can plan the family trip.”\u00a0 And God help the child who pipes up from the back seat, “Hey are we lost?”<\/p>\n

I’m not saying that happened on our trip.\u00a0 I’m saying I’ve heard of that happening.\u00a0 You know, to families that are less amicable and not as well-adjusted as our family.\u00a0 We were fine with it.\u00a0 Just fine.<\/p>\n

Of course, part of the problem was that we jinxed ourselves.\u00a0 Just as we entered the foothills, we called a friend from the mountains and asked for restaurant suggestions.\u00a0 He told us all about the Pizza Hut and Burger King and KFC in town.\u00a0 We rolled our eyes and told him that was ridiculous.\u00a0 We could eat at those places at home.\u00a0 We were going to eat local.\u00a0 And then we proceeded to drive “up and around” trying to locate the local places.\u00a0 And when we finally found them we realized, that, no, we were not going to eat local when we didn’t arrive until 8:30pm.\u00a0 The locals were all at home eating with their families by 8:30pm and their restaurants were closed.\u00a0 Locked.\u00a0 Dark. Shuttered.\u00a0 With empty parking lots.<\/p>\n

Ha, ha.\u00a0 Guess it was going to be Burger King after all.<\/p>\n

But, no.\u00a0 By the time we had come back down and around it was 9:30pm.\u00a0 And Burger King was closed.\u00a0 Well, according to the sign it wasn’t closed.\u00a0 But according to the people locking up, it was.<\/p>\n

So it was, eventually, after much going “up and around,” and much chuckling about how other less amicable and not well-adjusted families would be grumpy and snarky and pissed off (Not us, mind you!\u00a0 We were fine.\u00a0 Just fine.),\u00a0 that we ate WalMart pizza and Lunchables at the cabin for dinner.<\/p>\n

Ha, ha.\u00a0 Welcome to Family Vacation.<\/p>\n

Good thing that cabin had a hot tub on the deck.\u00a0 A nice 6-seater hot tub with fancy jets and an incredible view over the mountains.\u00a0 I don’t have any pictures of the hot tub.\u00a0 Mainly because you can’t take good pictures with wet fingers.\u00a0 Also it was hard to juggle my wine cooler and the camera in the hot tub.\u00a0 So you’ll just have to take my word for it.\u00a0 It was a nice hot tub.<\/p>\n

All in all, the cabin was lovely.\u00a0 It was perched over the mountains, with a great view, like most mountain cabins.\u00a0 But, unlike other mountain places we’ve stayed, the Rieke Retreat<\/a> had quite a lot of yard.<\/p>\n

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Enough yard for badminton….<\/p>\n

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….and a separate area for horseshoes.<\/p>\n

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Which meant we didn’t have to spend all our time going “up and around” the mountain to have family fun.\u00a0 Plus, I could supervise the children and their playing from the hot tub.\u00a0 Bonus!\u00a0 Well, I couldn’t actually see them from the hot tub.\u00a0 But over the swooshing sound of the jets I could just make out whether they were laughing, crying, or fighting.\u00a0 Which is the same as supervising.<\/p>\n

And if they couldn’t play nice with the lawn games, there was always the giant checkerboard.<\/p>\n

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Playing giant checkers was like going on a trip to Cracker Barrel.\u00a0 Without the Cracker Barrel.\u00a0 Since I don’t think there was a Cracker Barrel.\u00a0 Or if there was, it wasn’t labeled appropriately in the landscape.\u00a0 And even if we found it, it was probably closed.\u00a0 Regardless of the posted hours.\u00a0 That’s probably the way the Cracker Barrel rolls in the country.\u00a0 Mountain country.\u00a0 So we played giant checkers in the cabin and passed on the actual visit to Cracker Barrel.<\/p>\n

We also passed on the fire pit and picnic table set up on the hill for scenic marshmallow cooking.<\/p>\n

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Because we are at least country enough that we burn marshmallows over fire all the time.\u00a0 As a matter of fact if I run out of things for the kids to do between dinner and bed time, letting them have a bonfire is my go-to activity.\u00a0 Try saying to 4 country kids, “Hey don’t you wanna go outside and burn something?” and watch how fast they disappear.\u00a0 Although burning “something” is usually a bad way to phrase it.\u00a0 Specifying the items suitable for burning is safer.\u00a0 Unless you never want to see your kitchen chairs again.<\/p>\n

But despite getting lost repeatedly and the random business hours of the local establishments, we had a great time.\u00a0 Just down the street was a beautiful waterfall.<\/p>\n

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Perfect for climbing in….<\/p>\n

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….and under.<\/p>\n

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Plus good ol’ fashioned leaf racing in the currents.<\/p>\n

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And although Grassy Creek waterfall <\/a>wasn’t crowded at all, we weren’t the first ones to visit it.\u00a0 There was a geocache tucked behind the rocks that we added to while we were there.<\/p>\n

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Roaring Fork Waterfall <\/a>was a bit further away but impressive enough to be worth the visit.<\/p>\n

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I know it doesn’t look big until you put the kids next to it to get proper perspective.\u00a0 Kids are handy for that.<\/p>\n

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And although the water was running too deep and fast for the kids to play in it….<\/p>\n

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….it didn’t seem to be a problem for these tiny snails<\/p>\n

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….that were clinging to everything.<\/p>\n

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We have lots of freshwater mussels in the creeks in our country.\u00a0 Apparently mountain country has snails in their creeks.\u00a0 Who knew?<\/p>\n

We ended that day visiting a true tourist attraction—-Mount Mitchell<\/a>, the highest elevation on the east coast.<\/p>\n

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Which was my favorite mountain for several reasons including:<\/p>\n

1.\u00a0 We could clearly see the way “up and around” to get there.<\/p>\n

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2.\u00a0 The parking lot was extremely close to the observation deck on the tip top of the mountain.\u00a0 My thighs that had been hiking up and down to waterfalls all day were incredibly thankful for that small courtesy.<\/p>\n

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3.\u00a0 The elevation was high enough that those of us who have to visit the mountains off season (not in the peak leaf color when the cabin rates double and the crowds triple) got to see a little bit of the first of autumn color.<\/p>\n

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The next day we woke to a ghostly fog during sunrise.<\/p>\n

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Which gradually broke up into perfect blue skies….<\/p>\n

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….while I soaked in the hot tub.\u00a0 And Little had some beer and cereal on the deck.<\/p>\n

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Ha, ha!\u00a0 Just kidding.\u00a0 We were not actually up at sunrise.\u00a0 This is vacation, people!\u00a0 The fog was there long after the sun came up.<\/p>\n

Oh, wait.<\/p>\n

J\/K about the beer thing, too.\u00a0 It wasn’t Little’s.<\/p>\n

Not as far as I know.\u00a0 At least it didn’t appear to be his.<\/p>\n

From where I was supervising.\u00a0 In the hot tub.<\/p>\n

In any case, that blue sky led to a perfect day spent exploring a nearby apple orchard, the Orchard at Altapass<\/a>.\u00a0 I actually planned this whole trip around going to that orchard.\u00a0 I discovered an article about the Orchard at Altapass a couple years ago and have been trying to figure out a way to get there since then.\u00a0 The orchard is over 100 years old and lies right on the Blue Ridge Parkway.<\/p>\n

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And from the minute we arrived to taste fresh picked golden delicious apples….<\/p>\n

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that you could peel and core….<\/p>\n

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into yummy curlicues….<\/p>\n

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….it lived up to all our expectations.\u00a0 There were a couple miles of trails through the property, through sunny fields of trees….<\/p>\n

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down shady apple-covered paths….<\/p>\n

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log bridges over creeks….\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

and meadows embraced by mountain views.<\/p>\n

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The apples were everywhere.\u00a0 Filling the trees….<\/p>\n

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covering the ground….<\/p>\n

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and framed against Carolina blue skies.<\/p>\n

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There were apples almost as big as your head….<\/p>\n

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….and some smaller than your palm.<\/p>\n

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As we hiked, the children gathered seeds….<\/p>\n

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and nuts (maybe?)….<\/p>\n

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and rocks….<\/p>\n

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and wildflowers to identify later.<\/p>\n

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As a matter of fact, I would say our hiking over the property was a perfect moment during our trip.\u00a0 Until it happened.\u00a0 We got freaking lost.\u00a0 I mean, there were signs.\u00a0 And we had a map.\u00a0 But apparently that’s not enough for us.\u00a0 We need individualized directions.\u00a0 Which we got.\u00a0 From some workers we found cutting limbs damaged by a storm.<\/p>\n

“Just head up and around the mountain,” the worker suggested.\u00a0 I hesitated.\u00a0 Up and around had not worked for me previously.\u00a0 Not even once.\u00a0 He noted my doubt.<\/p>\n

“Just up and around.\u00a0 ‘Til you see the red barn,”\u00a0 he added.\u00a0 Right.\u00a0 Except I never see what you mountain people tell me I’m going to see.\u00a0 I just keep going up and around until I start thinking about becoming less amicable and not well-adjusted.\u00a0 The worker sighed and put down his branch cutter.<\/p>\n

“Walk straight up this hill here,” he said, pointing through some brambles.\u00a0 “Cross over the next path and when you hit the gravel road, follow it to the red barn.”\u00a0 All right!\u00a0 A gravel road!\u00a0 I can do directions like that!\u00a0 Add in a bull and we are on our way!<\/p>\n

We excitedly cut through the brush feeling rebels for going “through” instead of “around.”\u00a0 We crossed a grassy path.\u00a0 We shoved through some more weeds and hit a second path.\u00a0 We kept heading up.\u00a0 Until, from down below, we heard yelling.\u00a0 We looked down.\u00a0 The worker was frantically yelling and waving his arms.<\/p>\n

“Right there!\u00a0 You’re on it!\u00a0 Follow that gravel road right there to the barn!”\u00a0 I looked at ground below my feet.<\/p>\n

WTH?<\/p>\n

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That’s when I realized it.\u00a0 We didn’t stand a chance up against mountain directions.\u00a0 The people in the mountains have been around long enough to remember when those 2 wheel ruts were<\/strong><\/em> a gravel lane.\u00a0 That worker probably grew up playing in its rocks while his grandaddy worked at sawing apple limbs.\u00a0 Those of us who arrived for a 4 day visit just don’t have the history on our side.\u00a0 Or the thigh muscles.\u00a0 Because I was about to send the kids on ahead for a 4 wheeler rescue when the red barn finally came into view.<\/p>\n

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So we had time for a relaxing lunch on their covered deck.\u00a0 Which involved sitting still.\u00a0 And eating.\u00a0 Practically my favorite vacation activities.<\/p>\n

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From the picnic area we could watch the butterfly garden and the Monarchs fluttering around.<\/p>\n

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The orchard is a way station for Monarchs and although we didn’t get to see a mass migration, there were plenty of them around, filling up on nectar for their long journey.<\/p>\n

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We even snagged some milk weed pods to take home for our farm.<\/p>\n

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I plan to scatter some of the seeds in the herb bed.<\/p>\n

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If they take, maybe we’ll have our own Monarchs to view next summer.\u00a0 Or maybe the milkweed will invade the wildflower bed, spread all over the farm, choking out native species, and poisoning the goats and sheep.\u00a0 Gardening is not really as soft a hobby as people make it out to be.\u00a0 You could get pretty butterflies.\u00a0 Or dead ruminants.\u00a0 Yep, danger and daring around every corner.\u00a0 And those sky divers think they have the market on an adrenalin rush.\u00a0 Please.<\/p>\n

In any case, after examining the butterfly garden we let our meal of Goober Grape sandwiches settle in our tummies (Really, is there anything better than Goober Grape sandwiches on vacation?\u00a0 The PB and the jelly all in one jar?!\u00a0 Brilliant!) as we headed out on a hay ride with Bill Carson, one of the owners of the Orchard at Altapass, author of Stories of Altapass<\/a>, and storyteller extraordinaire.\u00a0 For over an hour we jostled through the orchard, listening to the tales of the Overmountain boys, the local people who founded and lived in the area, and the history of the orchard and its varieties of apples.\u00a0 To give you an idea of his storytelling prowess, the kids did not fidget or sigh or roll their eyes or even make a single peep, except for when they were laughing or playing along with the stories.\u00a0 Impressive work, Mr. Carson!\u00a0 Thank you for the wonderful tour.<\/p>\n

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Before we left we climbed down to the railroad tracks that we could glimpse cutting through the orchard.<\/p>\n

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There was an impressive train tunnel, gouged into the mountain.<\/p>\n

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Perfect for exploring.\u00a0 Or trespassing.<\/p>\n

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I figured if we were stopped and questioned, we could just say we were lost.\u00a0 Because on this trip that has been true 99.99998% of the time.\u00a0 Also, I could always just shrug and say, “I don’t know these people.\u00a0 I saw them trespassing and came down to tell them to get off the tracks.\u00a0 Please, does this body look like it gave birth to 4 children?”\u00a0 That’ll stop him in his tracks (Hah!\u00a0 Get it?? Tracks?).\u00a0 No man, railroad authority or not, is going to answer that question.\u00a0 And while he’s standing there, stumped about the safest way to respond, we’ll make our escape.<\/p>\n

The last stop on our orchard adventure was the old graveyard, hidden in the woods, down a wooded footpath.<\/p>\n

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It was a sobering trek.\u00a0 How difficult must their lives have been if this steep mountainside, rocky and root bound soil, was the softest place for their final resting place?\u00a0 How treacherous was daily existence if a man needed 4 families and 48 children just to have enough surviving descendants to erect his memorial?<\/p>\n

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Because without all that fecundity, the families and their histories just slowly meted away.\u00a0 The memory of their existence as faded as the names on the tombstones.<\/p>\n

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Until, finally, there was nothing left except for a stone, tilted precariously, being swallowed by the trees and vegetation.<\/p>\n

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Really, how fierce were these people?\u00a0 How formidable?\u00a0 Who could make their way through the endless canopy?<\/p>\n

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Who could stand against the inexorable forces of these mountains?<\/p>\n

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Yet the mountain towns, the roads and overpasses, the homes clinging to the rocky outcroppings, are all testimony to their strength and endurance.\u00a0 Yes, it was a sobering thought.\u00a0 It made me kind of sad for those hardy souls who had passed on those mountains.\u00a0 It made me grateful for my easy, gentle, rolling Piedmont hills.\u00a0 It also made me grateful for the delicious fudge back at the orchard.\u00a0 You can’t really get that sad when there’s fudge around.\u00a0 Yum.\u00a0 Fudge.<\/p>\n

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But whether you come for the apples, the tour, the scenery, the train, or the fudge, you do not want to miss the Orchard at Altapass.\u00a0 Check it out, you’ll be glad you did.\u00a0 They are open daily through October.\u00a0 Which is more than we can say for a lot of mountain places.<\/p>\n

Because on our last day we tried one more time to dine locally.\u00a0 Again.\u00a0 Since I couldn’t take one more morning of this:<\/p>\n

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So Pretty (the only other coffee connoisseur in the cabin) and I headed into the local town for some real brew.<\/p>\n

Um,..no.<\/p>\n

Please note the empty parking lot.\u00a0 Outside the cafe and general store in Little Switzerland<\/a>.\u00a0 At 9:30am.\u00a0 On a weekday morning.<\/p>\n

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Apparently, mountain country means having a stomach strong enough to avoid carsickness on the curves, having internal GPS, keeping an extra gas container in your car in case the gas station is too far “down the road”, and always having your own supply of coffee to brew in your coffee pot.\u00a0 You are your own back up plan in the mountains.\u00a0 There is no Plan B provided by anyone else.\u00a0 It’s self-sufficiency or die, people.\u00a0 And it doesn’t get more country than that.<\/p>\n

We were beginning to adapt.\u00a0 Driven by the same spirit of determination that pushed the Overmountain Boys<\/a> to victory, we kept going.\u00a0 We refused to give up.\u00a0 And we drove down and around, inching along behind trucks cooling their brakes, passing all the closed gas stations and businesses, knowing that somewhere, somehow, the mountain people had a place tucked away to get coffee.\u00a0 Even if it was just a coffee shop opened by an expat yuppie that had retired to the mountains.\u00a0 I had Courage.\u00a0 Faith.\u00a0 Persistence.\u00a0 And a caffeine withdrawal headache.<\/p>\n

We whooped with joy when we finally spotted a citizen strolling down a sidewalk in Spruce Pine<\/a> carrying a white cup and a cardboard koozie.\u00a0 We slowed down, circled the block, and there it was!<\/p>\n

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In the middle of a quaint street by an old railway station was a little coffee shop.\u00a0 With a chalk board describing heavenly drinks like Mocha Twister and A Shot in the Dark (coffee with 3 shots of espresso) and a cooler filled with muffins and pastries.\u00a0 All this only 11 miles from the cabin if you have mapquest.\u00a0 And 22 miles if you just go “down and around” until you stumble upon it.\u00a0 Eh.\u00a0 Whatever.<\/p>\n

With that success under our belts we gathered the rest of the family and carried all the rocks the kids had been collecting to the Museum of NC Minerals.<\/a> It was the perfect place to identify their specimens and to learn about the local mining industry.\u00a0 It was very educational.\u00a0 Which means the kids were done with that place in about 20 minutes.\u00a0 Good thing it was also free.<\/p>\n

Then we headed to the place that the younger boys had been waiting for from the minute we left our house.\u00a0 The gem mining at Emerald Village.<\/a> I had played it down as much as possible.\u00a0 Tell children they’re going gem mining and they immediately imagine finding an emerald the size of the Duke of Devonshire<\/a>.\u00a0 Imagination in kids is impressive, inspiring, and incredibly tantrum-inducing when it comes crashing down.<\/p>\n

I tried to keep them focused on the dramatic geography of the mine….<\/p>\n

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and thoughts of what mining was like in that deep, gaping hole.<\/p>\n

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And when they finally sat down to sluice through their buckets of dirt, I braced myself for their disappointment.<\/p>\n

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But in a shocking blessing from the fickle and mischievous gods of Family Vacation, the kids were thrilled with their little finds.\u00a0 They raved over their shiny and brightly colored pebbles.<\/p>\n

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It was enough to make you cheer, or light some incense, or climb back into the hot tub with another wine cooler in celebration.\u00a0 Too bad my hot tub days were over.\u00a0 It was time to head for home.\u00a0 Where we recognized the gravel roads, especially our own.<\/p>\n

And all our critters were waiting in the barn yard, safe and well-cared for by our country friends.\u00a0 Carmen and her 3 new goat kids, born the morning we left on vacation, were happy and healthy.<\/p>\n

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Even some of our city friends got in on the action while we were gone—-feeding, milking and loving on those babies.<\/p>\n

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Turns out even city folks have a bit of country in them.\u00a0 And country folk come in all degrees of country.\u00a0 My hat’s off to you, mountain country.\u00a0 See you again next fall break.\u00a0 With my GPS and my own coffee.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I know I am fudging it when I say we live in the country.\u00a0 It used to be the country.\u00a0 When we first moved here the 2 surrounding towns had nothing except for a post office.\u00a0 And the local post office is still only open from 8:30am-12pm and 2pm-4:30pm.\u00a0 In small towns we often close […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6152","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6152","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6152"}],"version-history":[{"count":115,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6152\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6513,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6152\/revisions\/6513"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6152"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6152"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6152"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}