Saturday, September 29, 2007
good to be back home
bella & i are back on judy branch and enjoying the comforts of being home. not much has changed in the hollow. the loggers are finished logging (thank goodness!), and so all is peace & quiet here. bella is really enjoying the freedoms of running amok with her buddies and then coming home to belly rubs, a bowl-full of food and a good night's sleep in the country. her grandmama really spoiled her while she was in TN, but I think the perks of being out in the hollow are making up for the lack of roast beef.
Monday, September 24, 2007
return
today, i get the staples pulled out of my back and then bella and i can embark on the long journey home to judy branch.
i managed to clean out a long of old baggage from my old room at the parents' house, and maybe i can do some of the same at my own house. i am ready to let go of a lot of old stuff, and i know that it's long overdue. i have always had such a hard time letting go, whether it be memories, desires, old feelings or sentimental objects. even past friendships.
there are some people who are in your life for the long haul, and there are those who are part of your life just for a brief spell. i tend to believe that people cross each others paths and become part of each others lives for some sort of reason that is beyond any one person's understanding. we can only begin to grasp, usually in hindsight, the beautiful sense that it makes that such people are part of our journey. spending two weeks at my childhood home, cleaning out so many years of my life- it's been cathartic. there's so much that i have held onto for all these years, stowing it away in my childhood closet. the novel i wrote in 8th grade, inspired by my obsession with laura palmer and twin peaks (it was titled "the diary"). fingerpaintings that my friend erin & i painted when we were snowed in during the blizzard of 93. diaries and journals going back as far as 5th grade. and print outs of my first encounter with email, freshman year of college. most were from my aunt nancy, who has been dead now for five years.
i'm really grateful that i've maintained relationships with quite a few people going all the way back to elementary or middle school, and i need to remember that, even though i don't often reach out, that there are folks out there who really know me, have known me for years, and they still love me! some old friends... well, i sometimes wish i could just clear out of my emotional hard drive and not be concerned or even care about anymore. the heart - well, at least my heart - doesn't work that way. but i do feel like i'm taking steps toward letting go and moving on to whatever it is that i am destined to do next.
i managed to clean out a long of old baggage from my old room at the parents' house, and maybe i can do some of the same at my own house. i am ready to let go of a lot of old stuff, and i know that it's long overdue. i have always had such a hard time letting go, whether it be memories, desires, old feelings or sentimental objects. even past friendships.
there are some people who are in your life for the long haul, and there are those who are part of your life just for a brief spell. i tend to believe that people cross each others paths and become part of each others lives for some sort of reason that is beyond any one person's understanding. we can only begin to grasp, usually in hindsight, the beautiful sense that it makes that such people are part of our journey. spending two weeks at my childhood home, cleaning out so many years of my life- it's been cathartic. there's so much that i have held onto for all these years, stowing it away in my childhood closet. the novel i wrote in 8th grade, inspired by my obsession with laura palmer and twin peaks (it was titled "the diary"). fingerpaintings that my friend erin & i painted when we were snowed in during the blizzard of 93. diaries and journals going back as far as 5th grade. and print outs of my first encounter with email, freshman year of college. most were from my aunt nancy, who has been dead now for five years.
i'm really grateful that i've maintained relationships with quite a few people going all the way back to elementary or middle school, and i need to remember that, even though i don't often reach out, that there are folks out there who really know me, have known me for years, and they still love me! some old friends... well, i sometimes wish i could just clear out of my emotional hard drive and not be concerned or even care about anymore. the heart - well, at least my heart - doesn't work that way. but i do feel like i'm taking steps toward letting go and moving on to whatever it is that i am destined to do next.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
what is happening to me?!
i am truly amazed at how much this surgery has taken out of me. going into it, i really did expect to be up for driving back up to KY and then returning for my "de-stapling" appointment. the reality has been that the most laid back activities, especially those which involve leaving the house, leave me exhausted. winded, even!
over the past few days i have tried to get out and about and get myself reaccustomed to ordinary life. bella and i met my friend sarah for a picnic lunch, and we had a nice stroll through the park. i was totally spent by the time i got home. the next day, i took it easy all day, and then i went out to knoxville for a "ladies night" of great food, getting acquainted with new & old friends and some really great music making merriment. it was really fun, and i realized how rare it is for me to get together in a social situation with other young women (or men, for that matter) of my age group. at times, during the evening, i sort of freaked out in my own mind. while this whole situation seemed so natural and almost routine for the rest of the people there (they are all in a band together...), i felt like i was in a new world - one i didn't quite "get" yet, but that seemed really lovely. i thought on this for most of the next day, as i was recovering from the toll of my outing, and i realized that i really have lost my ability to be comfortable in a purely social situation. i am so accustomed to any social encounter being somehow related to my current jobs, that i have no idea how to be myself outside of that realm. or if there is a me outside of that role anymore!
i fully reinforced this theory when i joined a couple of my friends yesterday afternoon to catch a movie in downtown knoxville and then hit a few patio cafes on the market square. my two friends knew all sort of people who, of course, came up to talk with us and were very interesting people from our age group (30 to 40 somethings). and while i did fine to make conversation, there were so many moments when i thought, "i could never move back here and fit in with all these people. i would just cower at home with my critters."
at times i've toyed with the idea of moving back home. lately when i've come back to see how much is actually happening around here, i really think that it might be the right choice. but then i have moments like i did this weekend, where i think that my time out in the hollows has permanently disabled me socially. perhaps, i never had those skills to begin with, and that's why i've ended up where i am. i really like to have a lot of time and space to myself. i despise small talk, and i don't even try to be good at it. i have a hard time pretending to like people who i know really don't like me. i really don't know how to relate to people very well outside of a collaborative working situation, as a hostess (often also a work situation) or as a friend. and i don't tend to have a lot of friends - usually just a few meaningful friendships - real connections - do me just fine. and those people are scattered across the globe. they hardly ever have to put up with me in person, and that may be a factor in why we're still friends!
i used to think my social skills were primarily lacking when it came to dating, and recently i've been pained with the reminder that i am extradorinarily talented at scaring off potenial loves by either ignoring them and fiercely holding on to my current path or by speedily scaring them off with my openess and my ignorance about how a romance is supposed to progress. i'll admit it. i have no idea how to date, and i don't think i'm going to be given many (if any) opportunities to find out. honestly, i'd rather not. i'd rather it just fall in to place, no matter how badly i (inadvertently) try to botch it up.
i am now officially paranoid that i am doomed to an existence as a hillbilly recluse, even though i really love (and often crave) those brief interactions with people of my own age group. there are all these people out there who i could imagine as a regular part of my life, but whose world in which i cannot imagine myself ever finding my place.
i am really homesick for judy branch and i am really confused about how long i should stay out there or where else i could possibly go. when i start feeling this way, the big cold waves of the ocean out in the Pacific NW and the shores of Scotland call to me. i could rest myself upon rock faces overlooking the sea and stay there forever.
over the past few days i have tried to get out and about and get myself reaccustomed to ordinary life. bella and i met my friend sarah for a picnic lunch, and we had a nice stroll through the park. i was totally spent by the time i got home. the next day, i took it easy all day, and then i went out to knoxville for a "ladies night" of great food, getting acquainted with new & old friends and some really great music making merriment. it was really fun, and i realized how rare it is for me to get together in a social situation with other young women (or men, for that matter) of my age group. at times, during the evening, i sort of freaked out in my own mind. while this whole situation seemed so natural and almost routine for the rest of the people there (they are all in a band together...), i felt like i was in a new world - one i didn't quite "get" yet, but that seemed really lovely. i thought on this for most of the next day, as i was recovering from the toll of my outing, and i realized that i really have lost my ability to be comfortable in a purely social situation. i am so accustomed to any social encounter being somehow related to my current jobs, that i have no idea how to be myself outside of that realm. or if there is a me outside of that role anymore!
i fully reinforced this theory when i joined a couple of my friends yesterday afternoon to catch a movie in downtown knoxville and then hit a few patio cafes on the market square. my two friends knew all sort of people who, of course, came up to talk with us and were very interesting people from our age group (30 to 40 somethings). and while i did fine to make conversation, there were so many moments when i thought, "i could never move back here and fit in with all these people. i would just cower at home with my critters."
at times i've toyed with the idea of moving back home. lately when i've come back to see how much is actually happening around here, i really think that it might be the right choice. but then i have moments like i did this weekend, where i think that my time out in the hollows has permanently disabled me socially. perhaps, i never had those skills to begin with, and that's why i've ended up where i am. i really like to have a lot of time and space to myself. i despise small talk, and i don't even try to be good at it. i have a hard time pretending to like people who i know really don't like me. i really don't know how to relate to people very well outside of a collaborative working situation, as a hostess (often also a work situation) or as a friend. and i don't tend to have a lot of friends - usually just a few meaningful friendships - real connections - do me just fine. and those people are scattered across the globe. they hardly ever have to put up with me in person, and that may be a factor in why we're still friends!
i used to think my social skills were primarily lacking when it came to dating, and recently i've been pained with the reminder that i am extradorinarily talented at scaring off potenial loves by either ignoring them and fiercely holding on to my current path or by speedily scaring them off with my openess and my ignorance about how a romance is supposed to progress. i'll admit it. i have no idea how to date, and i don't think i'm going to be given many (if any) opportunities to find out. honestly, i'd rather not. i'd rather it just fall in to place, no matter how badly i (inadvertently) try to botch it up.
i am now officially paranoid that i am doomed to an existence as a hillbilly recluse, even though i really love (and often crave) those brief interactions with people of my own age group. there are all these people out there who i could imagine as a regular part of my life, but whose world in which i cannot imagine myself ever finding my place.
i am really homesick for judy branch and i am really confused about how long i should stay out there or where else i could possibly go. when i start feeling this way, the big cold waves of the ocean out in the Pacific NW and the shores of Scotland call to me. i could rest myself upon rock faces overlooking the sea and stay there forever.
Monday, September 17, 2007
ramblings from recovery/ house arrest
Prior to surgery, my surgeon told me I could expect a lingering pain in the ass. That seems to be the last to leave, he said. Well, I can't say I've literally had a pain in the ass since I came off the cutting board, but having metal staples sticking out of my lower back counts in my book as a real pain in the ass!
The surgery I had was to shave off part of a herniated disc on the left side, between the L4 and L5 on the lower part of my spine. This is the culprit that has been causing me a lot of pain, discomfort and has hampered my rough and ready lifestyle on Judy Branch for about 9 months. And it all happened from one heavy log being tossed from the back of a truck into the wood shed. That was my own personal happy 30th bday present to myself last November. I think I'll take it easy this year - and hopefully for another decade or two! After months of playing the ridiculous games that insurance companies make us play, I finally got an MRI and was able to revel in the oooohs and ahhhhs that all the medical professionals did over the severity of my herniated disc. Apparently, I am an over-achiever on more levels than I ever knew!
And now?! Well, I have about a week left of not being allowed to sit for more than 20-30 minutes at a time. No long car rides. No bending; no lifting. And no Judy Branch. That's the worst! I may be able to go home for a couple of days before the staples come back, but after my attempt to drive my car across town today, I can see why they told me no long car trips. Large, sharp metal pieces protruding from one's lower back is NOT condusive to driving - esp. when you have really great lumbar supporting seats like I do in my car.
I'm hoping to be coherent enough over the next couple of days to be able to have some old hometown friends over to play some music. Otherwise, I'm just reverting to my usual : work, work and more work! It won't be all work-work. I'm going to make my parents' really happy by using some of my confinement time to clean out my old room so that they can remodel and do with it as they please. So far, so good. I've found some really great old letters from my aunt Nancy - actually, early emails from the first year I went to college AND the first year I think email became public and mainstream! Artifacts that I'm really glad I saved. More treasure hunting and trash bag filling tomorrow. As long as I don't bend, lift, etc..
I'm hoping to mend my heart and soul a little bit too while I'm here. I go through phases where I'm really happy and confident that I made the right decision to stay one more year and work with the community center and my old job while planning out what the next steps will be. Then I am hit by a surge of doubt and depression. Am I ever really going to fully have the life I want? It is amazing how quickly I can go from feeling like there's immense potential for me to build a meaningful, fulfilled life to feeling like I will always be along, struggling to figure out my place in the world. I don't ever seem to land in between. It's from one to the other.
I am content on many levels in my life. I feel confident in my abilities in my jobs and in my role in my community - which really is intergral to my current career. I feel loved and supported by my families - which include an extended network of kin and friend across the globe, and I am continually humbled by how fortunate I am to love and be loved by such extraordinary people, including, of course, my steadfast companion Bella. I have a really big heart, and I love my family and friends with devotion and passion. I also give this kind of love to my work. And I get a lot back.
But, still there is something missing.
The surgery I had was to shave off part of a herniated disc on the left side, between the L4 and L5 on the lower part of my spine. This is the culprit that has been causing me a lot of pain, discomfort and has hampered my rough and ready lifestyle on Judy Branch for about 9 months. And it all happened from one heavy log being tossed from the back of a truck into the wood shed. That was my own personal happy 30th bday present to myself last November. I think I'll take it easy this year - and hopefully for another decade or two! After months of playing the ridiculous games that insurance companies make us play, I finally got an MRI and was able to revel in the oooohs and ahhhhs that all the medical professionals did over the severity of my herniated disc. Apparently, I am an over-achiever on more levels than I ever knew!
And now?! Well, I have about a week left of not being allowed to sit for more than 20-30 minutes at a time. No long car rides. No bending; no lifting. And no Judy Branch. That's the worst! I may be able to go home for a couple of days before the staples come back, but after my attempt to drive my car across town today, I can see why they told me no long car trips. Large, sharp metal pieces protruding from one's lower back is NOT condusive to driving - esp. when you have really great lumbar supporting seats like I do in my car.
I'm hoping to be coherent enough over the next couple of days to be able to have some old hometown friends over to play some music. Otherwise, I'm just reverting to my usual : work, work and more work! It won't be all work-work. I'm going to make my parents' really happy by using some of my confinement time to clean out my old room so that they can remodel and do with it as they please. So far, so good. I've found some really great old letters from my aunt Nancy - actually, early emails from the first year I went to college AND the first year I think email became public and mainstream! Artifacts that I'm really glad I saved. More treasure hunting and trash bag filling tomorrow. As long as I don't bend, lift, etc..
I'm hoping to mend my heart and soul a little bit too while I'm here. I go through phases where I'm really happy and confident that I made the right decision to stay one more year and work with the community center and my old job while planning out what the next steps will be. Then I am hit by a surge of doubt and depression. Am I ever really going to fully have the life I want? It is amazing how quickly I can go from feeling like there's immense potential for me to build a meaningful, fulfilled life to feeling like I will always be along, struggling to figure out my place in the world. I don't ever seem to land in between. It's from one to the other.
I am content on many levels in my life. I feel confident in my abilities in my jobs and in my role in my community - which really is intergral to my current career. I feel loved and supported by my families - which include an extended network of kin and friend across the globe, and I am continually humbled by how fortunate I am to love and be loved by such extraordinary people, including, of course, my steadfast companion Bella. I have a really big heart, and I love my family and friends with devotion and passion. I also give this kind of love to my work. And I get a lot back.
But, still there is something missing.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Ouch... er, and where I am I?
Had back surgery today. The worst bit is coming out of anastesia. And that part seems to last forever.
Urg.
Urg.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Rekindling the heart fire
Love can so swiftly lift you up from the deepest plunges of depression. And, even with the loss of my granny's earthly presence, I feel so blessed by a love that seems to sweep upon me when I begin to plunge. My granny loved and understood me better than anyone else on this earth, and I can feel her with me every moment. And I can feel her love swell and intensify as it is joined by the love I soak up from so many beings.
Tonight, I am humbled by the amazing, wildly, widely dispersed group of people who sweep into to my life and within mere moments lift me out of self loathing and heartache and bring me into a family of belonging.
I am loved on so many levels and by so many creatures, fuzzy, human and/or any combination or derivation thereof.
Tonight, I feel blessed, and I feel alive. And I am exhausted from living every moment of this day interacting with people in my community, sharing songs and stories and bringing people together - my friends from the Carpetbag Theatre Ensemble and my friends from these hollows and mountains. It's moments from days like today that remind me why I am here, doing what I do. How could I not decide to spend another year on Judy Branch when there are so many more moments to bring forth?
Your life is what you make of it, and even though I know I won't be here forever (none of us will be, will we?), I am going to make the most out of the moments I have here and be grateful of the blessing of being here.
Tonight, my love goes out to all those people in my life with whom I get to share my moments, whether in person or in word. I send my love out to you, and receive yours with such humble gratefulness and tears of joy.
Autumn IS a great time for road trips and for visits, and I'm hoping that those of you who have been wanting to see and experience for yourself, will come see me on Judy Branch real soon! This Little Bird always enjoys having company around!
Tonight, I am humbled by the amazing, wildly, widely dispersed group of people who sweep into to my life and within mere moments lift me out of self loathing and heartache and bring me into a family of belonging.
I am loved on so many levels and by so many creatures, fuzzy, human and/or any combination or derivation thereof.
Tonight, I feel blessed, and I feel alive. And I am exhausted from living every moment of this day interacting with people in my community, sharing songs and stories and bringing people together - my friends from the Carpetbag Theatre Ensemble and my friends from these hollows and mountains. It's moments from days like today that remind me why I am here, doing what I do. How could I not decide to spend another year on Judy Branch when there are so many more moments to bring forth?
Your life is what you make of it, and even though I know I won't be here forever (none of us will be, will we?), I am going to make the most out of the moments I have here and be grateful of the blessing of being here.
Tonight, my love goes out to all those people in my life with whom I get to share my moments, whether in person or in word. I send my love out to you, and receive yours with such humble gratefulness and tears of joy.
Autumn IS a great time for road trips and for visits, and I'm hoping that those of you who have been wanting to see and experience for yourself, will come see me on Judy Branch real soon! This Little Bird always enjoys having company around!
Monday, September 03, 2007
Hearts are stupid
That's why you should never wear them on your sleeve.
I really wish my Granny were still alive. Just knowing I could always call her, even at 2 AM, sure made living out in the middle of nowhere a much more tolerable experience than it is right now. I'm feeling lonesome something terrible, and I'm even more blue now that I know that my geographic location is an effective repellent for potential suitors. Long distance works just fine for a great array of friends, but I guess it really isn't a way to go about romance. Although I've heard tell of it working out just fine for some. In fact, one of my old college roommates has met her match (they're talking marriage) on some internet dating network like Match.com. I do have cable internet... maybe it's time to give cyber dating a try?
I'm thinking about giving up my blog, because it seems I really don't write that much in it, and I am not even sure if anyone really reads it. I'm not even sure why I'm writing right now.
Well, I do know. I've got coffee cake and cornbread in the oven, and there's a good twenty or thirty minutes left until I can take them out and call it a night. Tomorrow, I have double duty, with an early meeting to go over finances and budgets at one job and then an 8 member (plus two small children) theater ensemble arriving around lunchtime to begin a week-long residency. It's going to be one hell of a busy week.
And sometime, I need to find the time to go out to Lee's for a visit. He had a bout of bad health, and I've been trying to give him time to recover. He came by to see me at work a couple of weeks ago, though, and he's been wanting me to come out and play. I think that would do me a world of good. I may yet become a banjo player. I'm going to try to get a grant to study up some more with one of my favorite KY women banjo players. We'll see if it comes through. That may make it worth my while to stay here another year.
I just wish I could find some remedy for my lonesome heart, especially since it seems almost as good at scaring off potential suitors as my geographic location.
I really wish my Granny were still alive. Just knowing I could always call her, even at 2 AM, sure made living out in the middle of nowhere a much more tolerable experience than it is right now. I'm feeling lonesome something terrible, and I'm even more blue now that I know that my geographic location is an effective repellent for potential suitors. Long distance works just fine for a great array of friends, but I guess it really isn't a way to go about romance. Although I've heard tell of it working out just fine for some. In fact, one of my old college roommates has met her match (they're talking marriage) on some internet dating network like Match.com. I do have cable internet... maybe it's time to give cyber dating a try?
I'm thinking about giving up my blog, because it seems I really don't write that much in it, and I am not even sure if anyone really reads it. I'm not even sure why I'm writing right now.
Well, I do know. I've got coffee cake and cornbread in the oven, and there's a good twenty or thirty minutes left until I can take them out and call it a night. Tomorrow, I have double duty, with an early meeting to go over finances and budgets at one job and then an 8 member (plus two small children) theater ensemble arriving around lunchtime to begin a week-long residency. It's going to be one hell of a busy week.
And sometime, I need to find the time to go out to Lee's for a visit. He had a bout of bad health, and I've been trying to give him time to recover. He came by to see me at work a couple of weeks ago, though, and he's been wanting me to come out and play. I think that would do me a world of good. I may yet become a banjo player. I'm going to try to get a grant to study up some more with one of my favorite KY women banjo players. We'll see if it comes through. That may make it worth my while to stay here another year.
I just wish I could find some remedy for my lonesome heart, especially since it seems almost as good at scaring off potential suitors as my geographic location.
Monday, August 27, 2007
nevermind
i am incredibly excited about this year. i'm going to play a whole lotta banjo.
and plus, i think my dog bella has super powers to run faster than any other dog on the planet.
maybe i'll enter her in the ky derby...
and plus, i think my dog bella has super powers to run faster than any other dog on the planet.
maybe i'll enter her in the ky derby...
Sunday, August 26, 2007
nagging doubts...
Now that I've decided to try staying put for another year, I'm beginning to feel creeping doubts sneaking up on me. It happens when I try to sleep at night. When I'm devising garden defense plans against the rapidly multiplying deer population. When I'm sitting at home alone at night. Am I making the right decision? How will I keep from going stir crazy or falling into another deep depression if I spend another year here in the backwoods?
Oh dear.
Oh dear.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Full Circle
I'm the kind of person who tends to get attached to a place. Many people in my life have called me a "nester," because I quickly go about making a new place my home. Those tendencies make it a real emotional struggle when I have to decide whether to stay or pick up and move. For quite some time, I've felt a need to get out of my current life situation and start afresh someplace else. My moving dreams have been focused on the Pacific Northwest, with the hilly, forested landscapes that remind me of home and the lure of the Pacific Ocean.
This summer has been one of the best summers I can ever recall. And this has been because of a mix of wonderful encounters with musical friends both here in the Appalachian hills and on the northern Pacific coast. I've felt myself pulled in two directions. One moment, I'm certain that I'm packing up and moving across this great continent to seek new adventures. The next moment, I'm blissfully content in the love of my mountain friends and family, and I can't imagine why I'd ever want to leave.
One factor that has been playing into my urge to move is my need for romance. Living far out in the mountains, a girl doesn't come across many romantic opportunities. I get lonely, and since I'm not big on dating people I really don't feel connected to, I can go on being lonely for a very long time out here. I have been jokingly telling friends, "I'm going to move to Oregon to find myself a man and bring him back to Kentucky." While that may be partially part of my motivation, I wasn't planning to move just to improve my chances of finding a partner. I have been thoroughly burned out at work, and I have been looking for an out for quite some time.
Some unexpected twists have happened, and somehow all the decisions made themselves for me. First off, I've met a fellow who I feel connected to on so many levels that I can't believe I put up with all those past dating experiences (which now seem excruciating). I never knew it could be so easy to fall for somebody. He doesn't live here, but he certainly lives closer to KY than OR, and I do love to take road trips.
On the work-issue, I have found an "out," but it also wasn't the one I expected. I'm going to stay here, for one more year, and I'm going to follow my heart's work by taking a job working with the Cowan Community Center/Cowan Creek Mountain Music School. I know the energy of the folks I'll work with at the community center will revitalize my spirit, and I'm looking forward to working with such a vibrant team to develop ways to make our community a better place for us all. I'll be keeping up my other job on a part-time basis, and I'm going to submit applications to PhD programs for next fall.
Somehow it has worked out so that it seems I'm going to get to choose all the options I thought I was struggling to choose between. I get to stay. I get to fall in love. I get to plan to embark on a new adventure someplace yet to be known.
Wow, isn't it crazy how life works itself out no matter how much your brain tries to interfere?
This summer has been one of the best summers I can ever recall. And this has been because of a mix of wonderful encounters with musical friends both here in the Appalachian hills and on the northern Pacific coast. I've felt myself pulled in two directions. One moment, I'm certain that I'm packing up and moving across this great continent to seek new adventures. The next moment, I'm blissfully content in the love of my mountain friends and family, and I can't imagine why I'd ever want to leave.
One factor that has been playing into my urge to move is my need for romance. Living far out in the mountains, a girl doesn't come across many romantic opportunities. I get lonely, and since I'm not big on dating people I really don't feel connected to, I can go on being lonely for a very long time out here. I have been jokingly telling friends, "I'm going to move to Oregon to find myself a man and bring him back to Kentucky." While that may be partially part of my motivation, I wasn't planning to move just to improve my chances of finding a partner. I have been thoroughly burned out at work, and I have been looking for an out for quite some time.
Some unexpected twists have happened, and somehow all the decisions made themselves for me. First off, I've met a fellow who I feel connected to on so many levels that I can't believe I put up with all those past dating experiences (which now seem excruciating). I never knew it could be so easy to fall for somebody. He doesn't live here, but he certainly lives closer to KY than OR, and I do love to take road trips.
On the work-issue, I have found an "out," but it also wasn't the one I expected. I'm going to stay here, for one more year, and I'm going to follow my heart's work by taking a job working with the Cowan Community Center/Cowan Creek Mountain Music School. I know the energy of the folks I'll work with at the community center will revitalize my spirit, and I'm looking forward to working with such a vibrant team to develop ways to make our community a better place for us all. I'll be keeping up my other job on a part-time basis, and I'm going to submit applications to PhD programs for next fall.
Somehow it has worked out so that it seems I'm going to get to choose all the options I thought I was struggling to choose between. I get to stay. I get to fall in love. I get to plan to embark on a new adventure someplace yet to be known.
Wow, isn't it crazy how life works itself out no matter how much your brain tries to interfere?
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Faerie Godmother
I wanted to explain something to those of y'all who may not know. One of the greatest blessings bestowed on me when I moved to Kentucky was that I met my Faerie Godmother. Now, I'm not a Cinderella kind of girl, so I want to make sure you readers know that this Faerie Godmother ain't no fairytale kind of lady. She's magical and mischievious and beautiful and creative and inspires me at every encounter. She loves the mountains, the woods, living on a farm among all kinds of critters, growing vegetables, swimming in clear, cold Smoky Mountain streams, running around barefoot, drinking wine and gazing at the stars, sitting on the porch tellin' stories all night. That's the faerie in her. But there's another side too. She's fiercely protective of my heart, a voice of wisdom, a shoulder to cry on, a hug whenever I need one, a person to celebrate and be silly with. A guiding light and an ever patient ear. She gives me insight and hope and teaches me so many things that only she knows.
That's who my faerie godmother is. Ain't no Cinderella to that. She's the one who wears the prettiest dresses, if you ask me! And ain't neither one of us would be caught dead or alive in a glass slipper!
That's who my faerie godmother is. Ain't no Cinderella to that. She's the one who wears the prettiest dresses, if you ask me! And ain't neither one of us would be caught dead or alive in a glass slipper!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Lucky
Lately, I've been feelin' lucky.
Lucky on so many levels. First off, I am so damn lucky to have the best friend a girl could ever wish for - Bella. She's my guardian, my familiar and (according to most who meet her) the best damn dog on the planet. Why she chose to adopt me when she was a puppy, I'll never know. I just live every day with her appreciating how lucky I am that she walked into my yard and told me she was moving in.
Lucky to live a life encompassed by music and mountains. Lucky to spend my hours either alone in the quiet of an Appalachian rainforest or in the company of people who appreciate the really good things in life, like a good story, the sound of katie dids and bull frogs, the moment a colt takes it's first step, the taste of fresh corn, the art of making fried green tomatoes, learning a new tune from someone who plays a completely different instrument. Playing music until dawn.
Lucky to be blessed with a faerie godmother with whom I can share adventures and from whom I can learn the art of living life to the fullest.
Lucky to have a family that I love and respect fiercely, and who embrace me.
Lucky to have met a fellow who I can talk to on the phone for hours, even though I usually can't be bothered to pick up a phone for weeks at a time.
Lucky to live on Judy Branch here and now and to spend my evenings fussing at deer, harvesting corn and tomatoes, cooking a late supper, wrestling with Bella, fishing with Sid and Rosie and playing the banjo until I can barely keep my eyes open.
Lucky on so many levels. First off, I am so damn lucky to have the best friend a girl could ever wish for - Bella. She's my guardian, my familiar and (according to most who meet her) the best damn dog on the planet. Why she chose to adopt me when she was a puppy, I'll never know. I just live every day with her appreciating how lucky I am that she walked into my yard and told me she was moving in.
Lucky to live a life encompassed by music and mountains. Lucky to spend my hours either alone in the quiet of an Appalachian rainforest or in the company of people who appreciate the really good things in life, like a good story, the sound of katie dids and bull frogs, the moment a colt takes it's first step, the taste of fresh corn, the art of making fried green tomatoes, learning a new tune from someone who plays a completely different instrument. Playing music until dawn.
Lucky to be blessed with a faerie godmother with whom I can share adventures and from whom I can learn the art of living life to the fullest.
Lucky to have a family that I love and respect fiercely, and who embrace me.
Lucky to have met a fellow who I can talk to on the phone for hours, even though I usually can't be bothered to pick up a phone for weeks at a time.
Lucky to live on Judy Branch here and now and to spend my evenings fussing at deer, harvesting corn and tomatoes, cooking a late supper, wrestling with Bella, fishing with Sid and Rosie and playing the banjo until I can barely keep my eyes open.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Is It Time to Slow Down Yet?
It seems like I've been running around like a chicken with her head cut off nearly all summer. Except I have probably had more fun. The Kentucky Camp moved to West Virginia for a week, and we had us a big time playing music in the woods and just sitting around talking. I must say that musically, this has been the best summer yet.
On the Judy Branch front, my poor garden has really grown into a jungle, and were it not sweltering hot every day, I'd be out there pulling weeds and making sure my beans have room to grow. The corn, at least has done quite well when the deer don't knock down the stalks. I'm hoping for a cool down sometime over the next few days so I can tidy up at least a little bit. I have a feeling that I'll be fighting a losing battle trying to keep the deer out of my garden. They have taken over in my absence, and they don't seem bothered one bit by my return. I've resorted to yelling at them. They just look up and stare briefly, then go back to grazing in my yard. At least they haven't gotten into the garden with me watching. They'll get it if they get that bold!
I'm not feeling in a hurry about much of anything these days, and that even goes for figuring out my exit plan from my current life situation. I figure that I'll move on whenever the appropriate opportunity presents itself, and that could be anytime. I'm still intrigued by the Pacific Northwest, but I'm becoming more open to other places. As long as they ain't flat.
Other news is that my insurance finally coughed up permission for me to get an MRI on my back, and - BIG SURPRISE - I've got a severely herniated disc between the L4 and L5 that is pinching my sciatic nerve. So next week I go to a back specialist with a CD of my MRI results and figure out what can be done to get me out of this pain.
On the Judy Branch front, my poor garden has really grown into a jungle, and were it not sweltering hot every day, I'd be out there pulling weeds and making sure my beans have room to grow. The corn, at least has done quite well when the deer don't knock down the stalks. I'm hoping for a cool down sometime over the next few days so I can tidy up at least a little bit. I have a feeling that I'll be fighting a losing battle trying to keep the deer out of my garden. They have taken over in my absence, and they don't seem bothered one bit by my return. I've resorted to yelling at them. They just look up and stare briefly, then go back to grazing in my yard. At least they haven't gotten into the garden with me watching. They'll get it if they get that bold!
I'm not feeling in a hurry about much of anything these days, and that even goes for figuring out my exit plan from my current life situation. I figure that I'll move on whenever the appropriate opportunity presents itself, and that could be anytime. I'm still intrigued by the Pacific Northwest, but I'm becoming more open to other places. As long as they ain't flat.
Other news is that my insurance finally coughed up permission for me to get an MRI on my back, and - BIG SURPRISE - I've got a severely herniated disc between the L4 and L5 that is pinching my sciatic nerve. So next week I go to a back specialist with a CD of my MRI results and figure out what can be done to get me out of this pain.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
The Kentucky Camp
This weekend I headed a few miles north for the Morehead Old Time Fiddlers Gathering, which for most of us involved is like an extension of the family reunion that is Cowan Creek Mountain Music School. No matter how challenging the past few years have been living here in KY, I can’t think of any time or place in my life that I have felt more loved. There are so many people in my life that I've come to love and care about deeply because of this impossible to describe, magical network of musicianers/old time music lovers. I've come to feel the same way about this family as I have always felt about the Appalachian hills. They are an extension of my core being, linked to my soul, a soft embrace of life-breathing, music-filled, rolling hills, timelss and ever present.
There’s so much change in the air, for me and most of the people around me. It seems I'm in a near constant state of awe in the experiences I have just surfaced from. I barely have time to stop reeling from the disbelief of how incredibly wonderful yesterday (or earlier today) was before another unbelieably full moment is upon me. And right now, all of these are swelling in my heart with the enormous amount of love that I feel pouring out of every pore of my skin.
In between these gushy moments when I am in love with everyone in my life, I have found a peace of mind at not having the faintest clue what my life will be like in a few weeks, much less a few months or years from now. I feel a calm certainty and comfort that these people I've bonded myself are going to be part of my life forever; the circle is going to continue to deepen and draw more people inside; and we are all going to take care of each other, no matter where we all end up.
Something significant changed in me living here on Judy Branch, and even though I used to think I’d always be a Tennessee girl through and through, the biggest part of my heart belongs to Kentucky, and I think it always will.
There’s so much change in the air, for me and most of the people around me. It seems I'm in a near constant state of awe in the experiences I have just surfaced from. I barely have time to stop reeling from the disbelief of how incredibly wonderful yesterday (or earlier today) was before another unbelieably full moment is upon me. And right now, all of these are swelling in my heart with the enormous amount of love that I feel pouring out of every pore of my skin.
In between these gushy moments when I am in love with everyone in my life, I have found a peace of mind at not having the faintest clue what my life will be like in a few weeks, much less a few months or years from now. I feel a calm certainty and comfort that these people I've bonded myself are going to be part of my life forever; the circle is going to continue to deepen and draw more people inside; and we are all going to take care of each other, no matter where we all end up.
Something significant changed in me living here on Judy Branch, and even though I used to think I’d always be a Tennessee girl through and through, the biggest part of my heart belongs to Kentucky, and I think it always will.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Kids
Judy Branch is the perfect place to raise your kids, no matter what species you happen to be. It seems, this summer, that around every bend of a path, gravel road or turn of the day, I am reminded of the ever-extending family tree belonging to this place. On the twice daily pilgramages out and then back into the hollow I have encountered a newly dropped foal taking a precarious wobbled step, young yellow chickadees taking first flight, a young goat couple fretting over their new kid. Sitting on the porch at home here at the head of the hollow, I dim down my day with the mingled sounds of children of all sorts making the sounds of playful discovery, free of fear and full of curiosity. There is danger here, but hardly ever any fear. With an edge of reverence and thrill, neighbors tell of the forty-three inch rattler a young mother killed in her yard down Line Fork. None of us would ever seek out snakes, living by the code that you only kill when they become an obvious threat. And the next day, we are still walking barefoot to the garden, keeping a watchful eye lest another one gets too close.
I love living a place where nature is simply part of life and not something to be fought back with pesticides and shrubbery. I love that my own little girl - a bright eyed hillbilly pup - can run unleashed and unfenced up and down the mountainsides, playing in the creek and lounging in tall grass. I love that when my neighbor's cows decide to come over the creek to chew on my grass, that all I have to do is walk up and talk to them and they go right on back home. And I love how my neighbors tell their friends and relatives how much they love hearing the music come drifting over from my porch, no matter what time of day or night, and those stories get back to me at the grocery store or at work. We all share this place and work together to keep the delicate balance that makes this the kind of place where we all feel free.
I don't really know if I'll ever want to have kids of my own, but I know that I'll always want and need a family. And Judy Branch is a place where I belong to a family that resembles the cross section of an old tree trunk, with rings and rings and rings of circles. Right now, at the center, is me and the critters. Hopefully, someday soon, there'll be more that just us at the heart.
A friend of mine recently told me, when he was first courting the woman he's now married to, there was a moment when he had an ephiphany: this was a gal he could move to Alaska with. And that's when he knew she was the one he wanted to be with forever.
That's the feeling I'm waiting for. Who knows if I'll move to Alaska (although a part of me would really like to try it out for awhile...). The precise place, other than being in the mountains, is not so important. It's meeting someone who, without any hesitation or doubt, you'd want to be with in the middle of the wilderness and who could relish that experience with you, helping to maintain the delicate balance of life and being with you at the center of the circle of famiy you naturally become a part of when you live at the edge of the wild.
I love living a place where nature is simply part of life and not something to be fought back with pesticides and shrubbery. I love that my own little girl - a bright eyed hillbilly pup - can run unleashed and unfenced up and down the mountainsides, playing in the creek and lounging in tall grass. I love that when my neighbor's cows decide to come over the creek to chew on my grass, that all I have to do is walk up and talk to them and they go right on back home. And I love how my neighbors tell their friends and relatives how much they love hearing the music come drifting over from my porch, no matter what time of day or night, and those stories get back to me at the grocery store or at work. We all share this place and work together to keep the delicate balance that makes this the kind of place where we all feel free.
I don't really know if I'll ever want to have kids of my own, but I know that I'll always want and need a family. And Judy Branch is a place where I belong to a family that resembles the cross section of an old tree trunk, with rings and rings and rings of circles. Right now, at the center, is me and the critters. Hopefully, someday soon, there'll be more that just us at the heart.
A friend of mine recently told me, when he was first courting the woman he's now married to, there was a moment when he had an ephiphany: this was a gal he could move to Alaska with. And that's when he knew she was the one he wanted to be with forever.
That's the feeling I'm waiting for. Who knows if I'll move to Alaska (although a part of me would really like to try it out for awhile...). The precise place, other than being in the mountains, is not so important. It's meeting someone who, without any hesitation or doubt, you'd want to be with in the middle of the wilderness and who could relish that experience with you, helping to maintain the delicate balance of life and being with you at the center of the circle of famiy you naturally become a part of when you live at the edge of the wild.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
The Neglectful Gardener
Seems I remember this blog used to be mainly about my life on Judy Branch, and much of that concerned my garden. I've been sidetracked by world travels, disabled by back pain and distracted by major life changes, but nevertheless, I have actually managed to pull off some bit of gardening. I've been a neglectful gardener, but I have managed to plant some seeds. I had an early crop of peas, turnips and beets, but I missed the most important planting time by being away May through mid-June. I came home to enjoy a harvest of sugar snap peas and to see that I really should have thinned out the turnips before leaving for a month.
The heirloom tomato seedlings neighbor Bill gave me really grew fast, but the local deer population has taken it upon themselves to prune the poor plants down to nearly leafless green skeletons. I was surprised to see one lone green tomato hanging on one plant. It may be too late, but I built a sort of fence with a top over the poor plants in an attempt to preserve whatever else the deer might find tasty.
About a month ago I planted four different varieties of basil around the tomato bed, but I've not seen them pop out of the ground yet. Neigbor Bill sowed my corn for me while I was away, and it is really coming along. The week after I got home I planted butter beans at the end of hte corn rows and squash interspersed among the corn. The squash is now coming out, and I think I better mulch it in case we actually start to get rain. Last year my squash plants rotted away because I didn't mulch. As lazy as I've been this summer, I'm determined not to make the same mistakes I did last year!
I also managed to plant about four or five long rows of okra, the Cajun Jewel variety and maybe one other kind. Still not sign of them, but I always have a hard time telling what okra looks like when it first comes up. they don't become obviously okra until they get a bit taller.
Last night I was in need of some serious comfort food, so I went into the zone many Southern women go into when they get that urge. I spent about an hour preparing myself a big supper of mashed potatoes, sugar snap peas, bbq tofu, fried green tomatoes and cornbread. Oh, and brownies with dark chocolate chips for dessert.
The heirloom tomato seedlings neighbor Bill gave me really grew fast, but the local deer population has taken it upon themselves to prune the poor plants down to nearly leafless green skeletons. I was surprised to see one lone green tomato hanging on one plant. It may be too late, but I built a sort of fence with a top over the poor plants in an attempt to preserve whatever else the deer might find tasty.
About a month ago I planted four different varieties of basil around the tomato bed, but I've not seen them pop out of the ground yet. Neigbor Bill sowed my corn for me while I was away, and it is really coming along. The week after I got home I planted butter beans at the end of hte corn rows and squash interspersed among the corn. The squash is now coming out, and I think I better mulch it in case we actually start to get rain. Last year my squash plants rotted away because I didn't mulch. As lazy as I've been this summer, I'm determined not to make the same mistakes I did last year!
I also managed to plant about four or five long rows of okra, the Cajun Jewel variety and maybe one other kind. Still not sign of them, but I always have a hard time telling what okra looks like when it first comes up. they don't become obviously okra until they get a bit taller.
Last night I was in need of some serious comfort food, so I went into the zone many Southern women go into when they get that urge. I spent about an hour preparing myself a big supper of mashed potatoes, sugar snap peas, bbq tofu, fried green tomatoes and cornbread. Oh, and brownies with dark chocolate chips for dessert.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Lazy or Forgetful?
I don' really know if I should still be keeping a blog. A while back I got quite a shock to realize that people sometimes actually read this damn thing. I never really thought that would happen (except for the lot of you who read this to check up on me and make sure I'm still alive here in the hollow).
I've been feeling the winds of change for some time, and I must admit that it is terrifying at times. I'm about to be uprooted, and I don't know exactly where I'll end up or what I'll be doing.
There are times when I wish I could forget all my old ties and start anew. But then I can't bear to let go of the truly amazing friendships I've been blessed with all these years. There's certainly been tough times. I'd rather not count how many dead friends I have, and there are others I have been saddened to watch drift away from the selves they once were. I'm glad I never got hopped up on pills or the like and became a ghost of myself. Hell, I still feel like the same person I was when I was 17. 'Cept I'm older, my back hurts and my joints ache. And now my old hell raising hometown friends are putting out country records while I'm playing clawhammer banjo on my porch. Who would have thunk it?!
A little over a week ago I got to spend several days on the Olympic Penninsula at the Festival of American Fiddle Tunes. Lee and Opal had told me what a time they had there when they went out a couple of years back. I was there with some other KY folks, and we sure did have a good time! Still, I can't say that going a week without sleep beats Lee's story of the first time he saw the ocean. He got hit upside the belly by a wave and then a seagull pooed on his head. Now that's a memory!
I've been feeling the winds of change for some time, and I must admit that it is terrifying at times. I'm about to be uprooted, and I don't know exactly where I'll end up or what I'll be doing.
There are times when I wish I could forget all my old ties and start anew. But then I can't bear to let go of the truly amazing friendships I've been blessed with all these years. There's certainly been tough times. I'd rather not count how many dead friends I have, and there are others I have been saddened to watch drift away from the selves they once were. I'm glad I never got hopped up on pills or the like and became a ghost of myself. Hell, I still feel like the same person I was when I was 17. 'Cept I'm older, my back hurts and my joints ache. And now my old hell raising hometown friends are putting out country records while I'm playing clawhammer banjo on my porch. Who would have thunk it?!
A little over a week ago I got to spend several days on the Olympic Penninsula at the Festival of American Fiddle Tunes. Lee and Opal had told me what a time they had there when they went out a couple of years back. I was there with some other KY folks, and we sure did have a good time! Still, I can't say that going a week without sleep beats Lee's story of the first time he saw the ocean. He got hit upside the belly by a wave and then a seagull pooed on his head. Now that's a memory!
Monday, July 02, 2007
Family Reunion
There's family, and then there's family. In the past three weeks I've been surrounded by people, who in some way or another, I consider my kin. First it was coming home to my Granny's funeral and falling back into the comfortable place I always get when I'm around all my cousins, aunts, uncles and, of course, my parents and brother. I was lucky enough to grow up really knowing my family, especially my cousins. It seems that no matter how old we get or how much our lives change, we fall into this eternal dynamic each time we gather together. There's a lot that has happened among us, and there are some that have done some things that has caused some rifts in our tight circle. Yet somehow we still manage to return to our tight-knit clan. What I noticed over the weekend of Granny's funeral was that when I see myself and my cousins all together, I can simultaneously feel the presence of our child and adult selves. We still communicate in a certain way that is timeless, and being the oldest granddaughter, I can see all my cousins as they were when they were just little. It's the next best thing to having a big passel of brothers and sisters, and I'm glad that every time one of us brings a stranger into the fold (new girlfriend, husband, etc.), that person is immediately struck by the closeness of our clan.
The other family I've been so aware of is my mountain family. These are people who know and understand me in a way that my blood family, even my own brother, cannot comprehend. I've got grandparents - Lee & Opal, Charlie & Joyce - a Faerie Godmother who is a sister, mother and best friend all wrapped up in one - and several foster parents, including Judy Branch's own Bill & Billy Joe. Since I've returned home I've been really feeling the presence of these family members, and these feelings only intensified during the Cowan Creek Mountain Music School.
Knowing that I will soon be leaveing this place to embark on a new chapter in my life has put me in quite an emotional state. It's as if I'm a rock out in the ocean, a great waves keep crashing over me. Sometimes it is pure excitement at the possibilities of a new life someplace else. Other times it's a cold soaking of grief and homesickness of leaving all these folks I've come to call family. And then there's waves of panic in which I feel as if I'm drowning and if I don't get out soon - NOW- I will suffocate.
There are certain friends that I give me hope and comfort as I prepare to jump into the abyss. Many of them are friends I've just recently come to know, friends who I met feeling as if I'd known them my whole life. This year's Cowan School was especially fulfilling, because while surrounded by my mountain family, I met several new friends from off who, in my soul, I've known forever, and in my heart I know I'll be friends with for a very long time.
I am now on the Olympic Penninsula with some KY folks, sharing a house with some SW Virginia folks and hanging out with folks from Louisiana and all over the west coast and other parts of the country. Being near the ocean and surrounded by wonderful fiddle music is just what I've needed to bring myself out of a sleepless seven weeks.
The other family I've been so aware of is my mountain family. These are people who know and understand me in a way that my blood family, even my own brother, cannot comprehend. I've got grandparents - Lee & Opal, Charlie & Joyce - a Faerie Godmother who is a sister, mother and best friend all wrapped up in one - and several foster parents, including Judy Branch's own Bill & Billy Joe. Since I've returned home I've been really feeling the presence of these family members, and these feelings only intensified during the Cowan Creek Mountain Music School.
Knowing that I will soon be leaveing this place to embark on a new chapter in my life has put me in quite an emotional state. It's as if I'm a rock out in the ocean, a great waves keep crashing over me. Sometimes it is pure excitement at the possibilities of a new life someplace else. Other times it's a cold soaking of grief and homesickness of leaving all these folks I've come to call family. And then there's waves of panic in which I feel as if I'm drowning and if I don't get out soon - NOW- I will suffocate.
There are certain friends that I give me hope and comfort as I prepare to jump into the abyss. Many of them are friends I've just recently come to know, friends who I met feeling as if I'd known them my whole life. This year's Cowan School was especially fulfilling, because while surrounded by my mountain family, I met several new friends from off who, in my soul, I've known forever, and in my heart I know I'll be friends with for a very long time.
I am now on the Olympic Penninsula with some KY folks, sharing a house with some SW Virginia folks and hanging out with folks from Louisiana and all over the west coast and other parts of the country. Being near the ocean and surrounded by wonderful fiddle music is just what I've needed to bring myself out of a sleepless seven weeks.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Searching
I have felt a bit paralyzed since returning home from Poland. The only times that I get to feeling comfortable are when I'm sleeping (when I can sleep) or working in the garden. I was home for just a few days last week when I took off and drove down to Tennessee to spend the night and my parents' house. I'm glad that I followed my flight instinct, because on Friday I met up with my dad for lunch, and we ended up sitting and talking for about three hours. With us both returning from far off places to meet at granny's funeral, I think that none of it really sunk in until a few days after the fact. We could finally talk about losing granny and finally talk about our foreign adventures. There was a lot to talk about, and I suppose there still is.
One thing that I kept feeling when I was in Poland and Ukraine was this strange sense of understanding when my local hosts would hint at these undercurrents of resentment and/or other indescribable emotions toward neighboring nations (Russia, Poland and German for the Ukrainians and Russia, Germany and Ukraine for the Poles). As a Southerner, I could relate on a certain level to these feelings some of my new friends would allude to. But there was no way I could really communicate this to my fellow traveller, who wasn't from the South. I was both surprised and relieved when talking to my mom about my trip, that she actually brought up the mutual understanding that Southerners could have with the Polish people. I told her how one of the most interesting things for me was when I got to spend some time hanging out with a young Polish woman my own age, and how she talked about the process she had gone through with her feelings toward German people. First hating them for all the recent history, then falling in love with a German boy in college and making some really good German friends. Then being treated like a piece of "Polish trash" by a German man her dad's age that she met while traveling in Ireland and feeling those resentful emotions rekindled. Mom made the comment that as Southerners it was easy to relate to being automatically treated a certain way by people when we travel. Reconstruction wasn't as recent nor as horrible as what happened to Poland, but those feelings really do continue, and it is a difficult thing to describe to people who have never felt that. I have an uncounscious tally stored away of particularly nasty encounters in which mere strangers have treated me like I was stupid or backwards or racist or all of the above, simply because they heard my accent or learned that I was from the South. You don't forget those moments, and it makes you automatically weary and/or suspicious of folks you meet when you travel. For her it was Germans and Russians. For me it is Northerners and Californians. We both have friends from those places, but there's this unspeakable divide. I hope I got this down in a manner that does not offend my non-Southern friends. It's just something that is there and very difficult to describe, but if you're a Southerner or Polish, you may just know what I'm talking about.
Enough banter. Sunday evening, I managed to weed a good portion of the garden and plant basil and peppers next to the tomatos, squash and butter beans in with the corn and plant a good three rows (well, 9 rows if we're talking actual plants) of Cajun Jewel okra. I hope to clear the rest of the weeds out and plant a few other okra varieties and some more basil later this week.
Today was another day that I could not make myself go into work, instead choosing to catch up on emails and other projects from home. I think that I have it set so that I can do almost all my summer work away from the office. This will make easier the inevitable transition (my insides keep screaming "Must move SOOOOON!").
One thing that I kept feeling when I was in Poland and Ukraine was this strange sense of understanding when my local hosts would hint at these undercurrents of resentment and/or other indescribable emotions toward neighboring nations (Russia, Poland and German for the Ukrainians and Russia, Germany and Ukraine for the Poles). As a Southerner, I could relate on a certain level to these feelings some of my new friends would allude to. But there was no way I could really communicate this to my fellow traveller, who wasn't from the South. I was both surprised and relieved when talking to my mom about my trip, that she actually brought up the mutual understanding that Southerners could have with the Polish people. I told her how one of the most interesting things for me was when I got to spend some time hanging out with a young Polish woman my own age, and how she talked about the process she had gone through with her feelings toward German people. First hating them for all the recent history, then falling in love with a German boy in college and making some really good German friends. Then being treated like a piece of "Polish trash" by a German man her dad's age that she met while traveling in Ireland and feeling those resentful emotions rekindled. Mom made the comment that as Southerners it was easy to relate to being automatically treated a certain way by people when we travel. Reconstruction wasn't as recent nor as horrible as what happened to Poland, but those feelings really do continue, and it is a difficult thing to describe to people who have never felt that. I have an uncounscious tally stored away of particularly nasty encounters in which mere strangers have treated me like I was stupid or backwards or racist or all of the above, simply because they heard my accent or learned that I was from the South. You don't forget those moments, and it makes you automatically weary and/or suspicious of folks you meet when you travel. For her it was Germans and Russians. For me it is Northerners and Californians. We both have friends from those places, but there's this unspeakable divide. I hope I got this down in a manner that does not offend my non-Southern friends. It's just something that is there and very difficult to describe, but if you're a Southerner or Polish, you may just know what I'm talking about.
Enough banter. Sunday evening, I managed to weed a good portion of the garden and plant basil and peppers next to the tomatos, squash and butter beans in with the corn and plant a good three rows (well, 9 rows if we're talking actual plants) of Cajun Jewel okra. I hope to clear the rest of the weeds out and plant a few other okra varieties and some more basil later this week.
Today was another day that I could not make myself go into work, instead choosing to catch up on emails and other projects from home. I think that I have it set so that I can do almost all my summer work away from the office. This will make easier the inevitable transition (my insides keep screaming "Must move SOOOOON!").
Thursday, June 14, 2007
You Can't Go Home Again
When you leave home, even if for a brief spell, it never is quite the same when you return.
I came home in time to drop off my suitcases, pack another and head to my Granny's funeral.
When I finally made it back to Judy Branch a few days later, it was to an altered place. The most obvious is that the forest around my house is being logged. For what it's worth, it is part of the forest management, meaning that it's selective logging using sustainable practices. Still, it is loud and there are people around my house when usually there are only dogs, cows and wild beasts. It's unsettling, especially since the only thing I have really craved since coming home and burying my granny is to have some time of perfect solitude at home.
I am not sure this will be possible.
I feel unsettled, and I think that I am supposed to do something about it. Soon.
There are some things that bring you home, even when your own homeplace is in a state of upheaval. I found deep comfort when I ventured over to Family Folk Week at Hindman last night to visit with my friends and join in the square dance and the late night jam session at the wood shed. It's nice to run into music buddies I only see once or twice a year and find that they already know where I've been and what I've been up to. It feels like a family, and I enjoy being a member and watching how everyone interacts. Some of these folks I see nearly every week, while others I may only see once a year. And how wonderful it is to see old friends with such long histories reunited and playing music late into the night! If only life could be like this all the time.
I came home in time to drop off my suitcases, pack another and head to my Granny's funeral.
When I finally made it back to Judy Branch a few days later, it was to an altered place. The most obvious is that the forest around my house is being logged. For what it's worth, it is part of the forest management, meaning that it's selective logging using sustainable practices. Still, it is loud and there are people around my house when usually there are only dogs, cows and wild beasts. It's unsettling, especially since the only thing I have really craved since coming home and burying my granny is to have some time of perfect solitude at home.
I am not sure this will be possible.
I feel unsettled, and I think that I am supposed to do something about it. Soon.
There are some things that bring you home, even when your own homeplace is in a state of upheaval. I found deep comfort when I ventured over to Family Folk Week at Hindman last night to visit with my friends and join in the square dance and the late night jam session at the wood shed. It's nice to run into music buddies I only see once or twice a year and find that they already know where I've been and what I've been up to. It feels like a family, and I enjoy being a member and watching how everyone interacts. Some of these folks I see nearly every week, while others I may only see once a year. And how wonderful it is to see old friends with such long histories reunited and playing music late into the night! If only life could be like this all the time.
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