10 Things

I have a lot of pictures on my hard drive. Some are interesting, some are boring, some are fun to look at, some I'd rather toss out. But none the less I have them and thought I'd cull a few of them to put up as 10 Things About Me - with photographs.


So in no particular order I have:

Thing 1



Oh here I am with our little orphan foal. I was think I was 16 years old here and my little brother Jay was 3. Her name was "Annie" (Little Orphan Annie) and her mother died while birthing her. She was born late in the year for a horse, during the summer. My job was to give her the 2 am feedings. I would heat up 6-8 baby bottles, put them in the pockets of my robe and trudge out to the barn to feed her. We were her Mommy. When my folks weren't home we'd let Annie into the living room. My folks could never understand why Annie always stood at the back door to the house.

Thing 2:


I love to sew. Here is a dress I made one summer after my 4th boy was born. I think I was really craving some girly whiteness, eyelet and lace. I designed this dress myself, it has an attached petticoat so I didn't have to wear a slip with it. The pleats in the bodice hide nursing openings so I could breast feed without taking my clothes off. I was pretty clever once.

Thing 3:


This was my first sewing project. I was in the 6th grade here. I really liked that shirt, but it had a hole in it. I didn't own a lot of shirts anyway at that time and felt it should be saved. So I raided my Mom's sewing basket and found a little floral embroidered applique and sewed it over the hole in the front....see that little thing in the front? I was very proud of it, thought no one could ever tell the shirt wasn't made like that and went to picture day wearing it. Too bad the hole wasn't a bit higher and more to the left, it could have passed for a very fem version of a Star Trek Communicator.

Thing 4:



This is the car I took my driver's test in. I'm sure all the DMV testers saw that car coming and had to draw straws. All I know is that it took a long time for a tester to come out and get into the car with me. I passed.

Thing 5



Awww, this is me on my little POA pony Cocoa. I'm riding him in Bakersfied so I must have been around 11 years old. Cocoa was a nut, he'd prance so much I'd literally get side aches from all the bouncing. I don't know who that little girl is. I was just riding down the road and a girl asked if she could pet him so I stopped so she could. Her Dad came out of the house and took 2 Polaroid pictures and gave one to me. I think it's the only picture I have of me and my pony. When I grow up I hope I'm nice like that Dad.

Thing 6


Oh this is when I tried to shed my Tom Boy image and be a refined lady. I fooled no one. But got a bunch of free stuff and a cool tiara.

Thing 7



1983 called and wants their hair back!! Thankfully that picture was taken in 1983. My brother's friend wanted to be a photographer and I wanted to pretend I was a model so we had a very convenient user friendship. His portfolio went no where as did my modeling so we're cool. They don't sell Sun In anymore because I bought it all up between 1982 and 1984.

Thing 8



My short and sassy hair cut days. Rick shudders at the memories to this day.

Thing 9




The 7th grade! I had crows feet even then. That was as long as my hair had even been. No surprise looking at those baby fine strands. I remember that shirt. My step mom bought it for me so I could show my pony in Western Pleasure classes. That shirt had the nicest pearl snaps. I would wear it during horse shows paired with my cream with rust/green/blue plaid pants, my leather tooled western belt with the brass covered wagon on a silver background buckle and nice pointed cowboy boots. On school picture day I wanted to wear my best shirt and apparently that shirt was it, maybe it was too nice. Who knows, but I know all the other girls were jealous.

Thing 10

Oh wait! I did model. Actually they just wanted to use the car since it went with the whole theme, but then the people felt bad that we had driven all the way to Indio so they stuck us in there, too. Rick & I. Rick is happy because he had just gotten that back bumper chromed but was then a little bummed when they cropped most of it out. We were paid with a travel gift certificate. We took an anniversary cruise to Mexico and came home expecting Austin. Sorry for the TMI.

And there you have it!

Legacy

Our family has a new addition! I would like to introduce Abigail Beatrice, born to my youngest brother Jay and my sister in law Tamara. Abigail is welcomed home by big sister Jade, now a mature 2 years old. Abigail is named after our Grandma, Alta Beatrice, we all called her Grandma Bea.

Now Grandma Bea was born in northern, central TX and grew up in West Texas. Her family grew cotton on land that is still farmed by the family today. Eventually she and my Papa settled in West Bakersfield, on a small ranch. By the time we kids came around, her pastures were leased out to Mr. Knoll and his herd of cattle. They were his cattle, but my Grandparent's land, so when we kids went out to visit for any length of time you could find us out moving irrigation pipe in the summer to keep that pasture green. We kids got really familiar with electric fencing too. As a matter of fact, way before I knew what colors were, I learned the first thing one did when you got to Grandma's house was to run into the garage and check for the lights on a box on the wall. If the red light was on, that meant that the fence was on, so be VERRY careful, if the green light was on, just watch out for cowpies. Anyhow, bottom line was that my Grandma was a busy one all her life, raising 4 boys and keeping my Papa happy.

As I got older I learned to appreciate my Grandma for who she was and what she did, not just for her wonderful sweet tea with a splash of rootbeer. Grandma Bea was always one to serve family first. I can scarcely remember a meal where she sat for more than 5 minutes, always jumping up to serve, refill or make someone comfortable at the table and enjoying every minute of it as long as family was around.

In her later years, my Papa would develop Alzheimer's. I would visit my Grandma more and more often then. Those visits would be some of my favorites as my formerly quieter Grandma would chat and chat and chat. I learned so much about her on those visits. She talked about growing up on the farmlands in TX, of how she, my Papa and their oldest baby escaped the dust bowl with only their model T and what they could carry in it, to the times of holding together house and home while my Papa sought work away in other cities for weeks or months at a time, through war times and to the first time she saw the property my Papa had picked out for her in Bakersfield which she would call home for over 40 years ("You want me to live on a SAND HILL?" - she said she would have loved it more had it come with a windmill.)

But she was always happy with what she was given. Once I dared to ask her if she ever wished she had a daughter, you know, to help with with the woman's work in the house and stuff. She told me when she was pregnant with her youngest child, baby #4 with three boys at home, she went to visit a friend that had a baby daughter. The whole time my Grandma visited that friend was at the ironing board ironing little dresses for the daughter. My Grandma Bea thought, "Dear Lord, Please don't let this one be a girl!" and sure enough, my Uncle Michael was born a healthy son.

My brother Jay is my Grandma's youngest grandchild and and she had a special place in her heart for the "baby". And since my brother Jay's middle name is Floyd, after my Papa, it is only fitting that his daughter's middle name is Beatrice after Grandma. So little Abigail Beatrice, I could just imagine that if Grandma Bea were here to hold you, the first thing she would say to you is, "Well Howdy Sugar! Aren't you a pretty little thing!" and then make you a spot at the table.

My Summer Vacation

Well, since the kids are in school and starting back to the whole school routine, I thought I would empathize with them myself and write a theme.


What I Did On My Summer Vacation 2008

1. Laundry. Lots and lots and lots of laundry.
2. Picked up Lego's. Lots and lots and lots of Legos
3. Poured milk. Lots and lots and lots of milk.
4. Picked up Legos
5. Laundry. Lots and lots and lots of laundry.


But mostly what I did was commute. Commute from home, to football practice, to football practice to home and repeat 2 hours later.




See Austin & Derick decided that football is pretty cool. Which it is. But starting July, they had practice every day, Derick at the Jr High and Austin at the high school. And they needed a ride. Enter me: with a van, car keys and a gas credit card. They NEEDED me to take them to football everyday. So I did. Left everyday at 3:00 and then got home at 4:00. Left again at 6:00 and got home at 7:00. Those 2 hours were spent driving, I just dropped off and picked up. We're country folk out here! We have to drive long distances. Fun.





No really, it was fun. I know, I know....how cool, all that time in the car to bond with my sons. Sure. I buzzed down those windows and cranked up the radio. Only after I heard "MOM!" 5 separate and distinct times did I turn it down and yell back an annoyed, "WHAT?" My usual answer was, "Uh huh" as I cranked up the radio again. This was MY time people! I'm out of the house! I'm on the road, I feel the wind, I've escaped. Don't ruin it for me.




Sometimes, oh sometimes Amanda fell asleep on the last long leg to the high school to drop off Austin. Oh THAT was the BEST! When Amanda was asleep after I dropped off Austin I could pull into Sonic, order a large strawberry smoothie with whipped cream and sneak sips all the way back home, then sneak it upstairs to enjoy at the computer as I checked email. I was living dangerously and sinfully.




But most times I just blasted the radio. And since the high school is just on the outskirts of town, I don't have to drive THROUGH town so most times I didn't even roll up my windows, I just let it all hang out singing at the top of my lungs to whatever song came on, even if I didn't particularly like it that song or know the words. I wasn't any bother really, because everyone else had their windows rolled up. One time however, I was at a stop light when I noticed the car next to me that had all their windows down and a young boy, 9yo or so, in the backseat; eyes fixed on me, mouth slightly agape, obviously amazed at the site he beheld. "Yes, my school boy friend", I thought, "we can't all be Stacey's Mom and have it going on." Me in my new RED mini van and all. Then the light turned green. As his car pulled away I saw him sit back and let out a sigh. Relieved that I was turning right onto the road that leads out of town.

Yummy Breakfast Tutorial

Some of my friends have blogs. They are cute and witty and always interesting. They also talk about cooking. My friends like Regi and Juli and Inger. They have it going ON and are taking the blogger world by storm. I'm starting to feel a little left out.

So this morning as I was making myself a hot, nutritious meal, I thought I would join in on all the cooking blog action. Don't get discouraged, I usually don't make breakfast things as complicated as I did this particular morning, but you can file it away for another time if you like.

First, go turn on your computer. My computer takes forEVA to start up and there is nothing more frustrating than having my hot tea or coffee go cold before I can read my first email in the morning.

Then here is what you will need to make breakfast:



I know, Apple Cinnamon oatmeal. I LOVE to live crazy like that.
Yes people, I have kids. Our last 2 glass bowls are reserved for guests



This part gets tricky, but tear open the package, (I tear from the left side because I'm right handed) and then pour into the bowl .

Oops, I made a little mess there. Don't fret about that, it's good not to worry too much about perfection when you're cooking.

This part, adding water is really crucial. I think on the package of oatmeal it tells you how much water to put in, but I just wing it. Just like Grandma used to do in the old country (Bakersfield). Now you CAN heat water up on the stove, but I use this InstaHot here on my sink. I know the traditionalists will hate that, but come on, it's the 21st century, open your mind.

Now you pick up your spoon and stir it around a bit. I usually stir with my right hand, but I had to take the picture. You can use whichever hand you are more comfortable with.

Make sure all the oatmeal gets wet.

Looking pretty good.

Almost there...

...wait about 5 minutes and WaLa!

I know this is a lot of work for a weekday morning. But if you discipline yourself enough you will be able to get out of bed almost effortlessly and have hot breakfasts like this when ever you want.

Enjoy!

They're Going Baaaaaaaaack!!

It's the most, wonderful time of the year.
The leaves are all falling,
The school bell is calling,
And folks of good cheer!
It's the most, wonderful time of the year~

Yes, it's soon to be that time again. Time to put on all those scratchy new clothes, pack up the new backpack with the brand new crayons that still have sharp points and all the paper wrapped around them. The binders, the book covers, the rulers, the pencils, the white board markers. Time to get up with the sun and trudge that whole 100' feet to the end of the driveway to wait for that big yellow school bus to be whisked off to new classrooms, new teachers, new student lists on the door. Isn't it grand?

Oh you homeschool moms just shush. There's no need to wonder how on Earth I can send my little lovelies to be taught life lessons by perfect strangers. Strangers who studied through at least 5 years of college and testing and teacher credentialling just be able to teach my 2nd grader math. So wonder no more. It's easy. It's called fly out the nest little ones and return to me each afternoon to tell me all about it. All about your new friends, your old friends, your new grade teacher, your cafeteria lady, your art teacher, your Spanish teacher, your theater teacher, your music teacher (ya their little school has lots of teachers) and I'll tell you all about how I got to do laundry and Lego pick ups and dishes and sweeping and eating my lunch in peace and quiet for the first time in 10 weeks.

Such a glorious time.

Oh and Amanda is laughing at Jonathan because she doesn't start school for another year yet.

2 Years in the South

Well here we are closing in on 2 years since we moved into our new home in the 10-OC. We've moved in, and out, and in, and out and repeat once more. We're getting to be experts in moving.

Even if our house did catch fire and then did get hit by a tornado and it does still have water running underneath it, we have had a nice time living here. The kids' schools are nice and the students even nicer. We're learning to navigate the roads TN style and things that may have bothered me in CA just don't seem to be that big of a deal anymore, you learn fast that Tennessee just happens.

Like the other day after I took oldest son to football practice.

Our local bridges have recently been inspected and the 2 bridges we use to get to town are on the "unsafe" list. Both are being redone at the same time. The smaller basically one lane bridge is being replaced all together, the larger bridge has been narrowed to one lane while the other side gets retrofitted. To regulate traffic flow on this now one lane bridge there is a stop light at each end on the bridge. I've come to expect delays here....up to THREE minutes. The injustice. Anyhow coming home from football practice I see that my signal is going to turn red so the car in front of me stops and so do I. Interesting though, it looks like the traffic on the bridge is not moving anymore. I take a more intense look. Well, wouldn't you know it, a truck with an over sized piece of farm equipment seems to have gotten wedged in between the concrete barriers on the bridge. Well in CA peeps would be getting pretty upset, but not here in TN. Nah, the stuck truck just gives one the opportunity to spit some chew out your open window non-moving vehicle, wave to the fella in front and behind, check your truck's oil levels and maybe kick the tires once or twice. No problems here. But I'm from California, so I do a quick U-turn (it's county roads out there, you can legally perform U-turns there, but you cannot in the city of Franklin) and take the one lane country bi pass road passed Wyonna Judd's old place and connect back to the section of road I need to be on.

Or there was that time I went to Puckett's to pick up some hamburger buns for dinner. It was late afternoon and I knew I was taking my chances but fortunately they weren't out of hamburger buns when I got there so I grabbed a pack as fast as I could, but I bet they were out when I left. See, Uncle Lester was there and he being my neighbor and all, just HAD to update me on all the local things going on, that went on, that will be going on, that may be going on, what would have been going on and on and on for at least an hour maybe even two. Husband was going to send a search party, but I did make it back home before dessert was served.

Then there was the time when we didn't have our Internet hooked up yet and so I stopped by the library to use their computers. I had about 200 email to read. I read a total of 12. But I was there for 3 hours and 26 minutes and had the run down of the history of the area told to me by some locals born and raised here. They told me that before the Natchez Trace was built our little road didn't go all the way through. To get up to where our house is one had to cross a creek 3 times and then you were at a dead end. And there was always no good going on at the dead end. I can see now where our troubles started.

Jonathan's Terrible, No Good 7th Birthday

It's birthday time in the Hambly household. At the end of July we have Rick's birthday, followed the next day by Jonathan's. Usually I bake 2 separate cakes, one for each day. This year however, Rick's birthday cake was so rich and delish that the thought of another cake the next day just made our tummies ache. I had made a dozen cupcakes the day of Rick's birthday and asked Jonathan if we could just do a cupcake tree on his. How cool would that be. He was very reluctant, but agreed. Amanda, being the little Happy Homemaker, helped with the cupcake project and put her spin on things, too.

And here's how it went down:




Jonathan: Yes! It's my birthday.
(He was so excited about his birthday that he picked out that shirt the day before to wear to the cake and present celebration)




Amanda: Yes! That's a very fine cupcake tree if I say so myself.




Amanda: As a matter of fact Jonathan, I put those pink candles on right there. See them?
Jonathan: Did you just say PINK candles?



Amanda: I am just so clever and so cute and so princessy!
Jonathan: Um, wait, there are pink candles on there?
Timothy: Sooo, when are we eating cupcakes?



Amanda: No wait Jonathan, pink candles HAD to be on there. See they match my pajamas and everything. It will look better for the picture if we all match. Here, turn around and see.
Jonathan: I have pink candles on my cupcake tree!!



Derick: This is taking much too long, I'm just going to reach in here and spear a cupcake right now.
Austin: Must. Not. Destroy. Cupcake. Tree.
Timothy: Uh, I'm outa here.
Jonathan: I can't believe how lame this is.
Amanda: I think that went well.


Amanda: We must X out bad attitudes. See, look, X. Like this.
Derick & Austin: Yes, X out bad attitude. Be happy, like us.
Timothy: Cool dudes, but can we just get on with it.
Jonathan: I can't believe this is MY BIRTHDAY! Can we just turn out the lights?




Finally, it's all about me. And you can't tell that the candles are pink in this light.

Wuzz N. T'Me

I have read stories and watched creepy movies where kids "see" things that adults don't. Now I didn't really buy into that too much, but kept an open mind just in case. Once my kids were able to speak they kept talking about this little mischievous little one that would just come around and try to stir up all kinds of trouble. My kids named him, Wuzz N. T'Me (must be French). Anytime something came up missing, or broken, or spilled or eaten or anything else that my kids would NEVER do, Little Wuzz N. T'Me somehow became involved. I would give the kids the stink eye when they mentioned that name, but they wouldn't back down on who the real culprit was. "No!" they cried, "It Wuzz N. T'Me! Promise!"

But then we went on vacation to the Smokey Mountains and I think this picture finally captured Wuzz N. T'Me. He was on his way to dump french fries and a soda in our brand new van while my perfect kids slept.




Little Stinker!!

Ok, ok, I was trying to take a picture of fireflies and Jonathan was running around in front of my camera. But really, how else can one explain those fries and soda in my BRAND NEW van? Just 'cause we went through the drive-thru 8 times in 4 days doesn't mean anything. At least not with my perfect children.

Barefoot Summer

There's just something about being a kid and going barefoot in the summer. As a young 'un I used to start out summers with a nice pair of sandals. But only one pair. As the summer progressed either I could never find the lost sandal-mate or just couldn't be bothered to put the things on, so more often than not, I was outside barefoot.




A kid learns a lot of lessons going barefoot in the summer. If you're a suburban type child you find that black asphalt gets really hot, but the painted white lines don't. When your feet are hot gutter water feels great. If it's slimy with algae that makes it even better. The real linoleum floors in the Green Frog Market in Bakersfield feel much better on those bare feet than the concrete floor of the K-Mart on Bernard Ave.

If you're a country kid you learn that dry dirt gets quite hot and sometimes even tumbleweeds feel better that dirt. Pastures look great from a distance but once in them cow pies make softer stepping stones. Irrigation ditches full of water are a reason to celebrate, but even those that ran a week prior still have their saving graces and are to be greatly appreciated.

As I grew up, so did the need for shoes. Unless I was at the beach, to be seen without shoes was about as Ragamuffin as one could get. In So. CA my kids hardly knew a day without shoes. If they ever were without shoes I sure wasn't going to tell anyone about it!



And then I moved to the south. Here I see little ones run amuck without shoes all summer long. There is just something so refreshing to see little girls in sun dresses running barefoot in the grasses. Little bare footed boys wearing shorts and clutching a soda in the local Walgreen's.

The biggest plus is that it sure makes life MUCH easier for me to yell to the little ones, "I've got to run to the store, who wants to come with me? No, don't worry about your shoes, just get in the car." Divine freedom for me and wonderful life lessons for my kids.

CA Girl Meets Fireflies

I love Disneyland. In CA we had season passes and would go random Sundays after church just to spend an afternoon. Of course, each and every time, we had to ride on the Pirates of the Caribbean. As far as I was concerned, the whole ride could have consisted of gently gliding through the Bayou Swamp listening to ol' Uncle Bubba strum his banjo and watch the fireflies dance in that night sky. THAT was the south. THOSE were fireflies. My whole life. Until I got to Tennessee.

The sighting of fireflies was a very much anticipated event when we first arrived in TN. It was the end of July/early August and figured the fireflies would be just be everywhere. Little did we know that fireflies like tall grass and dampness. Our lot was freshly graded and the creek had been cleared out, so any fireflies that had been around were long gone. However, we just figured that we must be in a fire fly free area of the state. Sigh.

Come early September I was picking up oldest son a couple days a week after school in the late afternoon. One time after a long day as I was driving home with the sun just sinking below the horizon, the shadows getting long and the mist starting to settle in the holler my headlights caught the reflection of an animal's eye near the creek along the side of the road. He had turned back suddenly right before he was going to cross in front of my car. I figured probably a raccoon. Then near the creek again, another animal lurking in the darkness. Hmm. Must have been a opossum. Driving along I see eyes of another animal, this time much taller. A deer maybe? I had seen them before right there get a drink then bound out of the creek bed and across the pavement. My eyes are now glued to the over grown vegetation in the stream bed next to the road as I drive along. I see more eyes! But what where those animals?? I couldn't see! They moved so fast. I began to get nervous, feeling like Snow White lost in her darkened forest with eyes tormenting her forcing her further and further and further into blackness. I had only been in Tennessee for a month. WHAT kind of freakiness lives out here anyhow?

Finally a little flash of light appeared out in the open, no sign of an animal anywhere. Then my brain blinked like a light bulb (ha ha) and said, "Firefly!! Did you see the firefly?? Look!! There's some fireflies!!" My kids thought I had lost my mind, but when they finally saw some blinks of lights they just sorta said, "Cool. Hey mom, do you know what's for dinner?"

However, the magic of fireflies are contagious. Our lot is now properly over grown and we have many fireflies visit on summer evenings. We love to watch those Twinkle Bells play. Sometimes we turn up the music from the speakers on our front porch and watch the fireflies "dance." Yes, they actually dance! They pulse with the beat. It's like a Redneck disco. Drink a couple of glasses of wine and watch those little guys for a while and we should be charging admission.

Who needs Disneyland anyhow?

Country Home

I think as parents we always wonder if we are doing what's best for the kids. I mean that I think that living out of town is fun and pretty and peaceful. The kids probably think is boring and boring and boring. But when we lived in California, take a look at what they did to my garden. To me that shows that they crave adventure and outdoorsy things. Right?

So now that I have a garden in TN, we decided on a pre-emptive strike and got the back hoe over and dug them out a big swimming hole. It's not deep, but neither was the one they had in CA. And this one they get to share with fish, tadpoles, a couple of snakes and at least one turtle.


Boogie boarding TN style!!


Spring fed water right there!

Because It's Easier To Be Yourself

The Poser:




The Reality:




Now tell me, which one looks more fun to you? I'm taking door #2 and calling it good.




:)

The Long Trip Home

Cades Cove, TN now part of the Smokey Mountain National Park.

I have always had a love for the mountains, particularly the Sierra Nevada range. When I was a little girl my Dad and siblings would camp near Red's Meadow for weeks at a time. See my parents were divorced and custody mandated that my Dad get visitation in the summer. He was a Professor of Geology and had class field trips during the summer, which left him not a lot of choice but to bring we kids with him. Anyway, we would fish and swim in the San Joaquin River. Red's Meadow was where I discovered the joy of pumice....rocks that would float. We kids would jump off high ledges to land into piles of pumice and sink down as in a pile of leaves. I would hike passed Devil's Postpile and on to Rainbow Falls with my Dad and then on to various points along the John Muir and Pacific Coast Trails. I had the advantage of my Dad being a Geologist, so I would learn all about how the mountains were formed and looked on in amazement as we discovered granite that had been gouged and polished by the ancient glaciers that had once been. As we hiked the trails I always hated to turn back, I always wanted to know what lay ahead. One of my friends from High School must have shared that same feeling and trekked the entire Pacific Trail. You can check out his journals here and be green with envy as I am: http://delnorteresort.com/.

But every summer, the camping came to an end and it was back to the San Joaquin Valley. Which wasn't so bad as it was surrounded by my favorite mountain ranges. Later, from the age of 12 through 15, I would live in the Southern Sierras. Some of the most magical times of my life.

As always life changes and I was brought to live with my Dad full time. He lived in the shadow of the another smaller mountain range, but I was no longer in them. I would look up at them and yearn for the pine breezes that I knew were there, but was stuck in the dust and flatlands of our horse ranch. I truly felt like Heidi who longed for her mountains, who felt that she could only be herself THERE. That love for mountains had to have come from somewhere.

My Great great Grandma was born in Cades Cove. She was the 7th of 10 children born to her parents and the first one to be born in Cades Cove. She lived her life there, meeting her husband and bearing children. Life in Cades Cove was one of much self preservation. She and her husband were farmers. They owned about 180 acres, which wasn't enough to sustain the family, but even in the 1880's, all the land in the Cove had been taken, leaving my GGGrandparents no other choice but to leave in order to own a bigger farm. My GGGrandma had never been out of the Cove until she packed up her family and by wagon headed out of the mountain valley. My Grandparents would later settle in Texas. There are not a lot of mountains in Texas. Although the Smokey Mountains are not a grand mountain range like the Sierra Nevadas or the Rockies, they are the mountains that Tennessee and North Carolina have to offer. I can only imagine that my Grandma would oft times think wistfully of her mountain valley home and long to be back there.

So here's to my Grandma Feezell....I made the journey back to where you lived. After many generations I made it back "home" for you. Thank you for the love of the mountains that I know you must have somehow instilled in me.

.

Tennessee is Not for Girls

What I thought Tennessee would be like:





How it actually is:

I've grown up all over. Born on the Bayou, raised in the San Joaquin Valley, the Southern Sierra's, the Inland Empire, Dallas TX. I am no city girl who cringes at the sight of a June Bug. I have had rats run across my feet, dealt with scorpions, chased off coyotes and my horse and I have walked right over a rattlesnake in the grass (my horse, dog & I encountered a mountain lion once, too.) I've caught gopher snakes in pillow cases, cared for caterpillars until they were butterflies and have milked horses and goats. But I'm here to tell you, very little of that has prepared me to what I would find, and what will be found, in this fine area of the United States called the south. These are not ordinary bugs, spiders and snakes. These are Confederate Crawly things.

Once, in the wee hours of the morning, around 1:30 am, I heard a small commotion coming down the hallway toward our bedroom doorway. We have cats and kids so small commotions are not uncommon and didn't think a whole lot of it. A few seconds later, I hear something that sounds somewhat like a helicopter and it's coming closer. I open my eyes just in time to see a huge insect dive toward my hair. In an act of desperation I throw the bedsheet over my head and let out a yell. This rouses my husband and asks what the heck is going on. When I tell him and turn on the light, he is dubious. We look for the giant insect, but it is no where to be found. I think I heard the husband mumble, "Women." as he rolled over to get some more sleep. I lay in the darkness wide awake. A few minutes pass and suddenly husband lets out a yell and a direct order to turn on the light. The thing had made a reappearance and was trying to take husband as its hostage. We finally spy it on the ground, the thing is huge, and ugly. I trap it in a towel and throw towel and all out into the darkness of the night.

With these things as their allies, I have no doubt that the South will, indeed, rise again.

Yard Work Tennessee Style

Once upon a time we lived in a little house, with a little yard with a little lawn and little trees, with a little baby and a lot of time to enjoy weekends. As the story goes the little baby was no longer a little baby and several other little babies came onto the scene so we decided that maybe a little more would be a little better and we moved to a half an acre. The little family had a lot of fun on the bigger little half acre. The little boys played with Tonka trucks in the dirt. The little girl helped me in the garden. The little birds chirped in the trees and gardner came every week.

If a little more was a little better the last time around, then even more would be even better for the next chapter in the 10-OC. We moved in, stood in bigger awe of the bigger yard we had, but we never knew what bigger work was. Alas little garden tools laugh at us. We bought bigger electric weed whackers and chain saws. Those are now "women's tools", because even bigger gas power is the only way to go around here. Bigger tractor mowers are needed to cut the bigger lawn. Now the bigger boys play with bigger Tonka trucks, renamed John Deere (but they're still painted yellow so to me they're still just Tonka trucks). In the summer a weekend is not enough to keep up with the bigness of it all. What to do? Well, take a backhoe, dig a bigger swimming hole in the creek and splash around until the little fireflies come out.

That's yardwork.

And the moral of the story; The grass is always greener over the septic tank.

Driving With The Windows Down

Summer is almost here. The Twinkle Bells (Amanda's pet name for Fireflies) are putting on a show for us every night. The LawnChair Theater is showing movies every Friday and Saturday night starting at dusk. Summer traditions in the Fork are once again in full swing. The unofficial announcement of summer? Driving with your windows down.

Last summer was our first full summer spent in our house in the Hallow. Well, in the entire south for that matter, so we weren't well versed in the subtle changes of the seasons. Sure the leaves greened up, the weeds got tall and the chiggers started biting, but there is more than just that. As I would drive from my rural setting into "town" I would notice that on my country road and those cars & trucks heading away from town, everyone had their driver's side window down. I just figured that A: the weather was finally above 50 degrees and boy didn't that warm air feel nice; or B: thank goodness it's warm enough that I can leave my window down so I can spit and chew properly. But then the weather heated up. It got nice and hot and humid. Yet these country boys (and brave gals) would drive around with their window rolled down. Surely all these cars had air conditioning. Right? Why would anyone want to drive with their windows down?

Then it started happening. As I traversed the country roads two to 4 times a day taking oldest son to football practice, I would begin to recognize the cars and trucks of my neighbors. We would both wave to each other as we approached and passed. My wave consisted of taking my hand off the steering wheel and opening my hand, or waving it furiously if it was someone I knew better. Their wave consisted of an arm extended high in the air, right out their open car window. Soon in order to feel more part of the culture, if I saw a car approaching that I recognized and knew I'd have to wave, I'd push the button to lower my window, give a shout out wave and then button that window right back up. Oh but wait, there's someone else that I know, working in their yard. Window down, arm out, window up. Here comes another car. Window down, arm out, window up. Repeat. Maybe 6 times before I hit town. It began to make sense to me now. Window down meant you expect to wave. A lot. At least until you hit town. The peeps in town don't wave quite as much as they do in the country. I only need to remember to roll the window back up when I get into town. See, I have the idea in my mind that I could go toe to toe with Fergie, well at least Pink, and so I usually turn up the radio quite loud and prove my point. Another reason why those in town leave their car windows up I'm sure.

And so the lesson is now learned. If the weather is 65* (for locals, 72* for former So. CA girls), when I get in my car it's seat belt on, A/C cranked up, hair in pony tail and window down. All the way to town. And then all the way home.

On a final note, as my friend Sydney learned (also a So. CA transplant) you don't need to do the window down thing at night, or you'll risk a bat flying into your hair and consequently into the back of your Extera. Thanks for passing on that nugget of wisdome Sydney!

Planting Seeds

Spring is arriving in Leiper's Fork. The bluebirds are coming back and frogs leap from the creek bank as I walk passed. It is time to think about the garden and if I am to have one this year. Last year we weren't able to get one in as we were out of the house while it got repaired from the fire, so I was quite anxious about getting started on one this spring.

We decided on a spot in a clearing amongst the pine trees where there would be good sun during the day. The area is just south of the barn which will protect tender plants from a northern wind. Last summer we planted a few fruit trees there, so the location seems perfect for a garden too. We waited until a rain softened the soil and then broke out the tiller. (The same tiller that hung off the back of our moving truck announcing our arrival to the folks in the hollow that we were here and ready to break some ground!) The dirt was wet and clumpy and the mud stuck to everything...this is some mighty fine clay soil out here, I think someday I'm going to till some more up and make an adobe garden house out of it. But in a few days as things began to dry the ground was ready to be worked; raked and leveled and cleared and amended. Ready for seeds and tender new plants. Ready for willing hands to help keep seedlings from being choked by weeds or ravaged by insects. Ready for gentle rains and yummy sunshine. Ready to burst into life with just the right combination of nature and nurture. We can hardly wait to see what it brings forth.

The tending of a garden is not that unlike the tending of children. In the beginning there is nothing but a promise of life. That something is there that will eventually be seen, but for a time it remains hidden. Then emerging into view, to feel the warmth of the sun, to drink in the air, to be known that there is new life. Carefully we care for it, giving small amounts of nutrients, guarding it from the harshness of the day, making the way easier for growth. Soon it becomes stronger yet we still cautiously feed and water it. Then we find that we are checking on it less often but are amazed at the little one's progress at each milestone when we do. Things change quickly now. We boast at how well the little one is thriving. We no longer pull little weeds from among it's roots with our fingers, but get aggressive with the hoe. The little one may get knocked over in our over zealous efforts, but we right it back up again, press the roots firmly in the ground, sigh, and continue on. Buds begin to set, then bloom. The little one has almost reached it purpose, it's beginning, we can see it, we can anticipate it. It's going to be lovely.

As all children are lovely. Even those that did not get sewn in a garden tended by love. Even those that struggled to find sunlight among the thickets. Even those that rose up too quickly, or those that sat underneath the snow. In fact, they are to be considered even more lovely, for any flower, or bud or fruit that they are able to bring forth is one truly worthy of amazement.

The Money Pit

So you're the proud new homeowners! Aww! Congratulations. You've worked hard. You have so many ideas on how to make your new home just perfect. Big dreams, maybe some do it yourself projects, just a tweak here or there. Soon it will be just as you want it.

GOOD LUCK with that.

Our home has been a work in progress, for well, about 2 years now. Sure we only bought the land 2 years ago but that is when progress started. Designing, plotting, erasing, starting again. Then we broke ground and things really got going. Fortunately we were 2,000 miles away and didn't see all the day to day progress but we knew it was chugging right along (I swear that's the only way to have a house built. You be far, far away). Finally the day comes and we move in. Ya there was the punch list, ours maybe a little longer than typical, but manageable. Too bad the dang thing had to go all smoke house crazy on us before we got the list completed, but we just tacked on about 130 little things to the bottom of it and kept our chin up. I mean how long could things take? Really? Well I suppose if things were done according to some sane person's schedule it wouldn't take that long. But this is construction we are talking about. Construction in Tennessee.

Don't get me wrong. I love seeing Bubba and Junior and Bubba Jr and Bubba who drives the red truck and the Bubba who drives that Vega. They are all great guys. We love company. But when Bubba says he wants to start work tomorrow, I make a mental note to at least brush my hair that morning before I send the kids off to school. Maybe even pick up the house a little bit, do some dishes and sweep up some Legos.

So I wait and wait and wait. Maybe Bubba isn't coming over like he said. 2:30 and the kids will be home from school soon. Eventually up the drive comes Bubba!! Now the particular job doesn't sound too difficult, he and his team are to work on paint and drywall in our house. He takes a look around and decides he needs some more materials for the job. He'll back back in 2 days. Is around this time OK? Ya, sounds OK to me, I'll do my errands tomorrow and then the next day I'll be lazy like I usually am and start picking stuff up around noon.

6:30 am the next morning and I hear someone coming up the drive. I answer the doorbell as I lick my finger with spit to try to wipe off yesterday's mascara from under my eyes and there's good ol' Bubba ready for work.

He comes in and starts laying out materials and saws and drop cloths as I try to shuffle kids out of the way before they head off to the school bus. Bubba mentions to me not to worry about a thing as he has 7 kids himself and boy was it a hoot one time when the middle one decided he wanted to take a reciprocating saw to the electrical outlet. About burned the house down that time, but how are kids supposed to learn a darn thing if you never let them touch anything?

Eventually kids are off to the bus stop and Bubba looks like he's making good progress, I mean that big pile of dust seems to show that right? Soon it's 10:30am and it's time for lunch break. Apparently a long lunch break. Kids are home from school. I make a special mental note to keep them away from reciprocating saws. Bubba reappears and says that he's going to have to come back tomorrow, he'll leave his stuff under the tarp where the kids won't be inclined to fiddle with it.

The next morning at 8:30 I was pleasantly surprised to see Bubba coming up the drive. And not only him, but 2 more trucks full of guys. Apparently Bubba decided he wanted to get this job over and done with. I knew he'd come through! I greet him at he door with an enthusiastic "Hi there!" He lets out a sigh and informs me that he has gotten called to another job and needs to take his equipment over there. But it should be a quick one and will be back in 2 days.

So the next day I figure that I may as well go treat myself to a trip to Target after all I had been through and jump in the car for a little shopping. I come home and unload my treasures and then decide to go check the mail. Upon my return from the mailbox I notice a little note on the door. It reads, "Came by to finish job. You were not home. Be back next week."

Next week. WHEN next week. What day? What time?

Sorry. Doesn't ever get any more detailed than that.

Driving in Tennessee

Now I know that Tennessee must have some traffic laws, problem is I have never actually witnessed anyone following them. Well, I take that back. The one and only traffic law to be obeyed is the speed limit. And rule of thumb there is to take the speed limit and reduce it by 10 mph just to be on the safe side. The double yellow? Just double the fun to cross. Red light? Just a suggestion. Stop sign? What's the point. Left turn on green? Only in emergencies (pray that you are the point car in the left hand turn lane. If you find yourself 3 cars back it would be much easier to make a right and then a U-turn.)

Let's just say that the roads in TN are roads only in that they may have some asphalt and a few painted details. And at one time, they were probably more than adequate for vintage Model B's. And since change comes slowly to TN, I would say that the roads are still adequate for Model B's but that's as far as it goes.

Now I'm sure to someone who has lived in 10-OC for 25 years or more, the roads make some sort of sense. There are no straight roads in TN. To head off to the south, you must first start out on the road that is marked "west" which begins its life heading north. Never turning off that road you will eventually end up south of where you started. I have a feeling that most of these roads began their lives as cow trails. Then one fine day a farmer thought that the cows had a pretty good route going and decided to drive his truck down after them, then the neighbor across the way decided that it all looked pretty fun and he'd take a shot at it too. Later some local kids dared each other to drive on the rut tracks and before you know it that road was paved and a Route 46 sign stuck in beside it. As a matter of fact I know that they had to be single file cow trails because there is no way 2 cows could even pass side by side and still have room before falling into the ditches that line each side of the roadway.

When I first started driving these roads I drove about 35 miles an hour in a cold sweat. I didn't dare take my eyes off the road because there is no room for sight seeing, with that double yellow on one side, a white stripe about 5 feet over to the right of that and the 3 inches beyond a 4' deep ditch. And when a semi is coming from the other direction at 60 mph, well, I'm telling you, all the Six Flags white knuckler rides have nothing over it! Add to the excitement deer jumping at you, turkeys playing chicken , bicyclists using the double yellow as route guidance and you're in for quite an adventure. One day I got brave and tried to hold the speedometer at around 58 mph. I made it to 2 miles to the red flashing light at the 2-way intersection before I had to drive back home to go lay down for 3 hours.

Driving on the back roads is something entirely different. I have yet to figure out why there are double yellow lines on these roads as they are not wide enough to warrant the effort to paint them. My theory is that they are there mostly for the hound dogs. So they know just how far they can run out into the street before getting skinned by a tire. Tree limbs get trimmed when unsuspecting semi trucks drive by. Actually I think it's a licensed betting sport out here to see how many limbs a semi can knock down before putting a hole in the trailer. And the locals, the locals can somehow smell it if you're new around here. When they see you driving, they cross the double yellow and wait until you've slammed on your brakes and have one tire in the ditch before moving over. Then they give you a big wave and a smile as they drive by.

Yep. A lot of good fun out here on the Tennessee public road system.

The Biggest Little Smoke House in Tennessee

So when I used to think about Tennessee before I lived here, I'd think that there was more tobacco and smoked hams than there were people. Lots of smoked hams. And those smoked hams were in smoke houses tucked away behind every respectable house with at least 8 hound dogs in the yard. And come smoking time, boy did it smell nice in the ol' holler. Funny that when went house hunting, we couldn't find one decent smoke house.

But we found that if you just hold on to your ideas for a while that the ideas come to you. And just 6 months after we moved to Tennessee we had ourselves here the classiest smokehouse in Leiper's Fork. Heck, we were so dang proud of it that we invited the Leiper's Fork Volunteer Fire Department out to come take a look at it. And did you know that they got so excited over our new smoke house that they called in the Fairview Volunteer Fire Department to come take a look-see at it, too? You should have seen it. It was just breathtaking....there was a whole parade of lights and sirens running up and down our road. People nearby where already standing in line out front of the place just to see when we would start selling our cured hams and bacon and jerky and venison. You just can't buy that kind of advertising anymore. As a matter of fact the sheriff came out and was directing traffic just to keep things moving. And the neighbors were so nice! They were so excited for me and so worried that the new business venture would go to my head that they would just run up to me and give me a hug and tell me that everything was going to be OK and to just trust God to help us through this until things were back to normal. You just can't find that type of people anymore. Things were going quite well and the excitement was building by the minute. As a matter of fact one of the school buses came by and parked in front of the house for about 20 minutes before the Sheriff was able to convince him to turn around. Then that bus driver went out to the school and told everyone there about the new smoke house in town. When something is this good, word just travels so fast.

But you know what? I think the Volunteer Fire Department got a little bit jealous of our new found calling and began to think that maybe a smoke house the size of ours would just be too much for this little town to handle, you know with all the traffic and things, because they ran up into our house with their fire hoses full of water and put our whole dang operation out of business!!! Pretty soon all the smoke stopped pouring out from under the roof and you can't have a very successful smoke house business without smoke. The people waiting in line could see that their orders for hams, bacon, jerky and venison were not going to get filled anytime soon and after much low level exchanges amongst eachother they decided to go on home. The neighbors were still so sweet though and held my hands and told me to call them anytime if we needed anything at all, since they knew that most of our money was tied up in the new smoke house thing. Did you know that even the Red Cross came out and tried to cheer us up by giving us some gift certificates to the local hotel, so we could get our thoughts together and not have any hard feelings about things because you know that most businesses fail the first year so we are actually in some pretty good company and if I talked to enough people I bet I can find some that have had to deal with things like this too. I mean where can you find hospitality like that except here in the south?

So anyhow, I suppose that Leiper's Fork isn't quite ready for so much success, so we will try something a little different next time.