Blessings dont always come wrapped in pretty packages

I grew up surrounded by old fashioned mountain survivalists, one or two bikers of the like you dont see very often these days, and just good ole, small town people in general. The kind of folk who enjoy a kind of freedom of spirit that everyone wishes for. People who value good morals. Trustworthy folk. It was a life that meant you worked hard, minded your own business. People were loyal to their friends, most were kind and generous, courteous and respectful, genuine, and, not the type you’d want mad at you. I once thought the whole world was like that, but as you know, its not.

I left those good people, and times behind too early. I wanted to grow up fast, get out of this small town and live, and I did. And my life changed. When I was 15 I had a baby girl.

When I got my license I decided to go to a Harley rally. I’d never been to one alone before and had always been under the impression that admission was free, but I was about to receive a rude awakening. I was nearly 17. I strode up to the entrance in my short cut-off blue jean shorts, belly shirt, knee high moccasins, and one year old perched neatly on my hip. One cute & clueless little country bumpkin biker child & baby; check. Pervy 30something gate keeper unashamedly gawks at me & asks for my $20 entrance fee. When I tell him I dont have it he rubs his chin and contemplates for a moment, “Well give me a tit shot, and I’ll let you in anyway.” How kind. And unfortunately, already having learned by that tender age what monsters men can be, I was only momentarily shocked, and I gave him instead a good look at my back side walking away. As I was going I felt an arm slip through mine. I turned around, ready to fight, and looked up into the face of a warmly smiling, older, red-headed, wooly booger of a man who simply says to me, “Come on, I’ll walk you in.” I’d noticed him standing by the gate, but never wouldve guessed he would be like one of the men I had adored in my childhood. As we approached the man who wanted the 'tit shot', my escort flared his nostrils and glared daringly at him. No words couldve been as effective as that look that clearly asked in its silence, “Do you want to say something now?” The previously bold man melted into a speechless stupor, and my companion and I passed through the gate, arms linked, no further confrontation necessary.

That was the just the beginning of one really great day. To make the story short, the gentleman who escorted me in was the president of a Biker club. My daughter and I were treated like VIPs all day. We went back stage and met the bands, we were fed and looked after and entertained greatly. At the end of the day this man gave me his number and asked me to keep in touch. He also offered me gas money, which I refused. Then he and his friends offered to follow us as far as they were going on our route home to make sure we made it back without any problems, and they did. These were the kind of people that I had known as a little girl.

That day I decided maybe I could start trusting people again, my already tired faith in humanity had been greatly restored. A beautiful soul is a real treasure, often well hidden beneath a burly, mean looking shell. Its an old lesson, but one worth repeating; its unwise to depend solely upon your eyes to guide you. And for heavens sake children, dont try to grow up so fast. Learning everything the hard way hurts.

The Little Moments That Define Life

Photo by Masahiro Miyasaka

I went to my brothers place just after dark tonight to take him a plate of food from the 'way too big' supper I'd made. (His comment this afternoon when I asked him to do yoga with me ((he responded "Huh? Oh, I like blueberry yoga")) let me know he probably wouldnt object to a home cooked meal! lol) His lights were off so I knew he must be napping, but I decided to leave the plate anyway.

As soon as I turned the jeep off & stepped out, I noticed in the back field of my grannies old place the black silhouettes of people laughing & having fun in the shadow of a magnificent orange bonfire. High in the sky above them were almost constantly pulsating bright streaks of silent, distant lightning creating a magical fireworks show.

As my eyes adjusted more to the darkness I paused to take in even more of my surroundings. I saw that closer to my brothers place, around the outskirts of the fields & on the dark mountainsides beyond, the trees were so full of dancing lightning bugs that it looked like Christmastime.

Playing in my loose hair was a cool, refreshing breeze that begged more attention, so I closed my eyes & took a deep breath. I was rewarded with the fresh sweet scent of the new hay that had been mowed in the heat of the day and was now beginning to dry.

The silent gaps between the far away laughter at the bonfire were being filled with the melodic love songs of the crickets & frogs & I thought to myself, this is bliss.

Out of nowhere at the end of my day came this unexpected, unfathomably perfect moment & it felt like I was being allowed to observe a little piece of what heaven might be like. God really knows how to pick a great gift.

5-28-2010

True Love

(right click here to listen to the song 'Buckets of Rain' in new tab.)

The photo above pictures a young couple in love. Not just any young couple though; this is my granny & her fiance, Frank, back in the early part of the 1930's. They lived in Tennessee & since times were hard, Frank often had to leave town in search of work. He did his best to save up enough money for he & my granny to get married & start their new life together, but on one of Franks long out-of-town trips, something happened.

My pawpaw came along.

I'll never forget my granny telling me the story of how she & my pawpaw met. He was working for the forest service & came to her town for a job while Frank was away (ironic huh?). He was good looking & charming & all the girls were after him, she said. But he was only interested in one. He swept her off her feet & they fell head over heels in love in just the couple of short weeks he'd been there, but because he lived here in North Carolina & his job in Tennessee was ending soon, the only way they could keep seeing each other was if they got married. So that's just what they did.

My grandparents lived a long & happy life together. They built a house & had a farm & raised four children together. And after they'd spent all those long years together, when they were in their 80's, my pawpaw passed away.

That might seem like the end of the story, but it's not.

A few weeks later the phone rang, it was Frank. He'd been married too (his wife had also recently passed) & they had a family, but he just never quite got over my granny. He'd kept up with her for all of those years and had seen my pawpaws obituary in the paper. He offered his condolences & asked if he could keep in touch. He called once or twice a week for a couple of months before asking my granny if he could court her again. (for those of you who may not know, 'courting' was the term for dating, back in the day.) She accepted his offer & the next day he came all the way from Tennessee to see her. He made the trip home that night & came back again the very next day, and over the next few weeks, that became the routine, even though this man was in his 80's! I guess love lent him the energy :)

They only 'courted' for a few weeks before he asked her, once again, to marry him. She said yes & they were married shortly thereafter & spent the last 2 years of his life together, loving each other like the teenagers they were the last time they'd known each other. Talk about undying love! Ive always thought that was one of the most romantic stories that I've ever heard.

It says alot about the power of love.

Concerning Boys.

(right click here to listen to 'Bad Little Boy' in a new tab.)

When I was growing up, my parents liked to use the boogeyman as a kind of scare tactic babysitter. They'd say things like, "If you go out of the yard the boogeyman'll getcha!" and that usually worked pretty well to keep us where we were supposed to be. Yep, usually.

When my brother was 3, he was like most young boys are; insatiably curious. That makes for alot of excitement in a mother's life. One day after he'd gone out of the yard for what seemed like the hundreth time, my mom decided it was time he learned his lesson once and for all, so she went inside & got an old fur coat. She snuck out into the woods close to where she spotted him hiding out, got down on all fours & covered herself with the coat. She then began crawling toward him making horrible, frightening sounds. He ran away, so she thought she (and the boogeyman) had won. She was wrong.

A few moments later (before she even had time to pull her make-do disguise off) my brother came running back as fast as his little feet would carry him, pitchfork in hand, screaming "IM GONNA GET THE BOOGEYMAN!!!"

All I can say is, its a good thing mom was so agile.

One day, not too much later, mom looked up from washing dishes & didnt see my brother in the yard so she made what she thought would be a quick trip outside to check on him. He was nowhere to be seen. She began calling his name, but got no answer. She yelled louder, still nothing. At that point she frantically began screaming for him & ran over to the neighbors house to ask if they'd seen him, but no one had so they began searching for him as well. More people in our neighborhood soon came out as they heard the commotion & joined in the hunt for my brother, but just as my frightened & distraught mother had given up finding him quickly & headed back to the house to call the police, my brother crawled out from under the house where he'd been hiding, and laughing hysterically, pointed & said, "Mama went that way, and that way, and that way!"

Boys.

(Ok, maybe I wasnt an angel myself, but us girls, we do things a little differently- but thats a story for another day)

The Gift

(right click here to listen to the song 'Wild Mountain Honey' in a new tab.)

My pawpaw (or grandfather, to those of you unfamiliar with my southern dialect) was a beekeeper. He died when I was 8 & that is one of the few things I remember clearly about him, his bee 'charm'.

On a summer day about 4 years ago I walked outside & heard a low rumbling drone- I followed the sound to the edge of our yard & saw that in one of the top limbs of a huge poplar tree was a fat black mass of bees. I was in awe. I sat on the front porch for hours waiting to see what they were going to do & they never moved.

I ended up forgetting about them until about a week later, when we discovered that they had taken up residence in the wall of our old barn; we only use the barn for storage these days & I was ok with them being there as soon as I found out that they were honey bees. I kind of felt like my pawpaw sent them to me.

They stayed there peacefully for 3 years before my brother decided that he wanted to try his hand at beekeeping, and came to get them. I was heartbroken about disturbing them, but I felt like I should let him have the chance, so he came with a couple of his friends who keep bees & pried open the wall of the barn to find that the whole wall was filled with honey. I can still close my eyes & smell the heavenly aroma of the warm honey mingled with the beekeepers smoke- no perfume could ever begin to compare.

Everyone had on bee suits but me & they got stung several times, but I guess I have my pawpaws bee charm because I never did. Of course I wasnt freaking out when they buzzed by me like my brother did either haha!

To make this story short I will cut to the end & tell you that sadly, the bees did not live once they were moved. But I still hold onto the idea that they were a gift from my pawpaw, and so I can still smile.

I still have a ton of the honey they left behind too :)

Changes

We've all been hearing alot of news about birds lately, so it didnt take long to catch my attention earlier when I was sitting in my room & the screeches & chirping of birds became so loud I could barely hear myself think. I ran outside to see where they were & in the woods behind my house the trees were nearly black with birds & the sound was deafening. Ive seen alot of birds in my time, but never this many at once. It leaves me wondering- whats really going on with the birds & other animals- are they aware of something that we're not?

Memories of Summertime

If only we were so dignified.

In celebration of my birthday a few summers back, I was camping out with some friends for the weekend. It was early September, but the weather was still warm and beautiful so me & two of my girlfriends sat out to go tubing down the river. I had taken lots of short trips down before and really enjoyed it so I wanted to make this trip last longer.

We were camped out about a half a miles drive downriver from where we put our tubes in & we were guessing the trip back would take about an hour or two. Well, as Im sure alot of you know, a river can be very unpredictable- if it hasnt rained in a day or two, chances are it will barely be running. Such was the case that day, but we were too excited to turn back & decided to go ahead and make a go of it anyway.

We eagerly jumped into our tubes and floated about 30 feet before dragging the bottom so hard there was no amount of scooting and pushing and giggling and grunting that would get us any further. Determined not to give up, and seeing some deeper water ahead, we stood up and walked down the river with our tubes. We made it another few feet and had to get up and walk again.

Im a well bred mountain girl, so I was smart enough not to go into the river without some shoes on (those rocks hurt!) Too bad I was only smart enough to wear .99 cent flip flops instead of some kind of well made strappy river shoe. By the time I had tromped another 15 feet downriver, the pull of the river against the flip of the flop was enough to rip the thong out of my dollar store delights, and I was left to fight the savage river rocks with only my bare feet.

After a little while my friend Kristen felt sorry for me and let me borrow her shoes for a little while & my other friend, Tessa, did the same- so we were all 3 taking turns being horribly abused by mother nature (just go with it ok?). A short time later, we came to our senses and decided to abandon our river adventure. We thought we were pretty close to the campsite, or at least the main road, and decided to walk the rest of the way back along the river bank and give our aching feet a break.

The walk through the woods seemed a Godsend after walking barefooted over the sharp river rocks...for a little-bity while; After some amazing discoveries ("This would be an AWESOME campsite") and alot of laughter and speculation (also after crossing over about the fourth mountain), we started to realize that our campsite wasnt 'just over the next ridge.'

I began feeling a little pang of anxiety. Our surroundings were eerily quiet. There were no more road sounds, no voices, and it seemed that even the river was a solemn spectre far in the distance. So naturally (of course!), we tried the 'HOOTIE-WHOO' call, in hopes that we were close enough to camp for the guys to hear us and give us some audio guidance in the right direction. ( Note: Neanderthals Guys- don't bother leaving me any comments on how helpless women are without you. Although I have to admit to the occasional lapse in judgement as proven here, I have cared for enough of you when youre sick to know the truth about the 'stronger' sex!)(Im laughing, but its true, no?)

I digress.

Eventually, we heard an answer to our calls and followed the sound;

At the bottom of a hill overgrown with extremely thick mountain laurels and rhododendrons, various weeds, and generally every kind of undergrowth you can hardly see daylight through- seemed to be our way out.

I dont know who it was that took that first slippery step onto that big, mossy rock (it wasnt me!) but since we were walking in a close-knit formation we ended up in sync, like dancers in a badly choreographed ballet, clinging to one another & sliding stiffly down the rock, and, PLOP! into the river we went.

And the person standing on the bank of the river was not one of the guys we were camping with.

And this was not our campsite.

Instead, standing there and looking amusingly startled and wide-eyed, yet somewhat pleasantly surprised, was a guy I had never seen before in my life.

(*We later found out that he'd been walking his dog and had stopped at the river to let the dog get a drink).

I can only imagine what thoughts must have ran through his mind, when, out of nowhere, the peaceful walk he thought he was taking was interrupted by three, somewhat scantily clad women, falling out of the trees and into the water, literally right in front of him. All I know is, the look on his face was completely priceless, and I doubt any who were present that day will ever forget the experience.

Once the guy had regained his speech & explained where we were, we were able to get our bearings straight and quickly found the road that we followed the rest of the way back to our campsite. And in keeping with the 'Venus/Mars' theory, the guys we were camping with still dont know exactly what went on that day, which only makes the whole thing that much sweeter.

*Note: You could say there is a moral or two to be learned here;

1. A snake can be longer & meaner than it looks at first--so dont mess with it unless youre sure you know what youre doing (the river)
2. All mothers can seem cruel at times even if they dont mean to (mother nature) 
3. Good things can come out of nowhere- and when least expected (the women falling from trees of course!)
4. And always, ALWAYS, wear well made strappy river shoes when wading in the water.(read into that however you like)

A Naked Introduction

A Long & Rambling Tribute To My Parents & My Mountain Heritage
( or, 'a little bit of unapologetic pride in my raisin' mingled with a healthy dose of southern-fried spitfire)


It bothers me when I see people who were raised here in the mountains doing everything they can to change who they are so they arent classified as rednecks or dumb hillbillys by the outside world. I think people should feel comfortable being themselves without being made to feel ashamed.

I'm proud to have been raised here & to have lived here all of my life. I am so very thankful that my mama taught me how to grow a garden, that she showed me what wild plants and berries I could eat out in the woods & the ones that could be used as medicine. She taught me so many priceless 'little things' too, like how to just be quiet & watchful so nature could show me its charms; From infancy she would wrap me up all cozy in a little sack, tie me close enough to her that I could hear her heart beat & take me out for walks in the forest. She would point out the little birds & the feathers that they had lost, then she'd pick the feathers up & gently encourage me to take note of how soft they felt against my cheek, how delicate & fragile they were. She'd show me the tiny flowers growing in the field, how intricately detailed and artful they were-- tiny fragrant things that others might stomp across without notice. She'd have me to lie quietly at night and listen for the screech owl, whose song still reminds me of being a child, comforted & unafraid in the dark. She let me play in the rain & mud & get just as dirty as I wanted & she always had a smile for me when I came back with my clothes all ruined. She taught me not to judge others because we are essentially all the same.She taught me by example to be strong, to stand up for the people I love & the things I believe in. And she taught me that no one is liked by everyone & that as long as I am truly happy with who I am, that I should never give anyones negative opinions of me a second thought.

I wasnt around my daddy quite as much because he was our bread winner and worked long, hard hours to make sure we had what we needed- but he still managed to instill in me a deep love for animals by his kind & loving example; If a turtle is in the road he is the kind of person who stops to put it out of the road & if that turtle has been ran over, he's the one who takes it home & nurses it back to health. He has a gentle way with animals & taught me that, like people, hurt & frightened animals will grow to trust you over time if you are patient with them & stay consistent in your love for them. He was a kind teacher- he never minded my questions, even when I was at the age that every child asks, 'Why?' every breath. He took the time to explain things to me that didnt always make sense to my young mind & he continued repeating those things to me, so that by the time I was old enough to need to know, I did. He gave me my love for music by taking me out on our front porch swing on nights when I had a belly ache & singing a song he made up, full of sweet healing words, just for me. He kindled my love for astronomy & science over long summer nights spent outdoors looking for comets & listening to the radio waves that were 'heard better sitting by the fault line'

My parents are both very wise in ways that many might discount in this modern age, but with the kind of wisdom they have given me I feel that I have a secret, 'lost art' kind of advantage over my tech savvy neighbors. If there ever came a time that survival was about having to give up technology & all the things you can run out to the store & buy, I would very likely survive because of the things I learned from them.

If you were to meet me on the street, its entirely possible that you'd notice my long hair, carelessly twisted & clipped up on top of my head in a wild, curly mess- I'd likely be improperly dressed by average standards & maybe even covered in dirt from digging up delicious mountain delicacies like sassafras or ramps... If my appearance gives you the impression that Im too lazy to take good care of myself, it may just be that your idea of 'taking care of yourself' & mine are vastly different. ( you'd also be mistaken to think that I dont know how to clean up my 'mountain girl' look- I do so on occasion, usually not based on where Im going, but rather, what mood Im in.) And if my southern drawl makes me sound ignorant to you- could it be possible that you are only listening to the sound of my voice & not my words? See, Im not willing to change who I am in order to make that good first impression & those who care enough to get to know me dont seem to mind. Maybe you wont mind either.

No matter what, my life is rich & whole, and I am happy :)