I'm not sure if it's a mountain, rural or generally an American thing, but I've always been more inclined to measure the distance between two places by how long it takes to get there, usually by driving. The drive from Judy Branch to Berea is approximately 2 and 1/2 hours. Part of living in the rural mountains is that you get used to spending quite a bit of time in the car. This has been my experience since I first started driving. In high school, a 40 minute drive to a good swimming hole was considered close or "local." Driving 30-45 minutes to get to work or a night out on the town was also considered close by. I guess that's why I've never had a problem with living at least half an hour from anywhere, and driving a couple of hours to get somewhere isn't really all that bad either.
Last night I stayed with my friend Deborah at her farm in Jackson County. I think it took about 45 minutes from Berea, maybe a little less. But the terrain really makes it seem much more in the middle of nowhere than Judy Branch. Even though I'm nestled in the heart of the Central Appalachian mountains, the roads really don't go up and down as many hills. They follow the rivers and creeks, and while winding and dotted with sharp curves nestled between a sheer drop into said creek on one side and a craggy cliff face on the other, you don't really have to go up and down much.
Deb has been a house guest on Judy Branch many times, and I knew from her descriptions of life on her farm that I'd feel right at home. What I really love about their place is all the work that they have put into the place to make it their home along with all the daily work they do to make a living from their home. While I garden and do a lot of those survival tasks of rural living, Deb and her husband Frank are really living off their land. They raise sheep, rabbits, hogs and chickens, which provide eggs, meat, hide and income. Their work crew includes horses, guard and hunting dogs and I'm sure a few other tennants that I haven't met yet. Inside are the two cats, Foscoe & Madeline (they sleep outside when it's not so cold) and a pen of quail. I had my first taste of quail eggs, hardboiled last night and fried this morning.
Frank & Deb had to convert the original house structure (a typical Appalachian flat board house that has been upgraded over the generations) to include indoor plumbing. The water is gravity fed to the house from a spring up the hill. For more consistent pressure, they've added a cistern and a water pump. What's handy is that when the power goes out, they can still get water fed by gravity. While I also have spring water from a well, it comes from underground and required a pump to get it to the house. So I'm out of luck when we lose power.
They have built on a high-ceiling log addition to the original house which makes for a fantastic living room, complete with a cozy futon covered in warm sheep skins.
One of my favorite rooms of Deb & Frank's place is the outhouse. Neighbor Billy Joe and I've talked about how in so many ways life was much easier before indoor plumbing. I know from Judy Branch how messed up indoor plumbing goes when it comes to toilets. You really have to make an effort to flush, and if it rains too much for too long the septic tank can get backed up, which is not at all pleasant. Those problems don't exist when you just use an outhouse. And they really have a nice one, well decorated with National Geographic photos and poems pasted all over the walls and door.
Last night Deb and I sat by the wood stove, and she taught me how to play "Black Eyed Susie." I brought her my copy of the Flat Mountain Girls CD, Honey Take Your Whiskers Off. They're an all-women old time band from Portland, OR, which play a rockin' version of the tune. I've let her borrow it today in hopes that she'll figure out how to play "Deadheads and Suckers," a tune they recorded and cited as Trad. Neither of us had ever heard of it, so I am now on a mission to find out more about the tune (and to learn how to play it!).
Today I'll head back to Judy Branch to prepare for a week with the Carolina Chocolate Drops. A week from Monday I'll return to the mysterious chiropractor (who, from my novice perspective seemed to ask a lot of questions of my arm... tho I think it was my brain channelling through my arm?). He's fixing me of my lactose intolerance and will hopefully ease some of my back pain (thus the root cause of seeking his help). I'll hold off on any detailed commentary until I've tried it out a few times.
The real icing on the cake will be that evening (Feb 19th), when I hope a big field trip of friends will join me and Deb to see the Chocolate Drops perform live on the famous Woodsongs Old Time Radio Hour at the Kentucky Theater with Folkboy himself, Michael Johnathon. Above is a picture from my last field trip to see friends Uncle Earl play on this legendary radio show. Is it because of the stellar musical guests that we make the Monday night pilgramage to Lexington? Is it to support our up & coming, "undiscovered" musician friends as they are introduced to an international audience? Or is it the personality of the host that draws us like ants to sugar? You decide and let me know.
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