Snow... and a Dilemma

Christmas Book

Helen on Facebook mentioned that she was looking forward to my list of books received for Christmas and I had to tell her that, aside from a very nice cookbook, I'd received no books at all ( my family suspecting that I have them all already.) Horrors!

A few days later, Hung Over with Grandma appeared in my mailbox -- sent by the author who was appalled at my lack of books for Christmas.

I have a particular soft spot for this book as the main character -- Stella, a plain-talking, no nonsense West Virginia woman of a certain age -- first appeared in a class I taught at John C. Campbell several years ago. When Becky read the scene she'd just written, it was obvious she was channeling a very real and fascinating character.

I was thrilled when Becky went on to complete and publish her first novel Drunk on Peace and Quiet and was intrigued by the fact that Becky had given her Stella an Inuit boyfriend.

And I was even more delighted when I found that this second installment in the saga takes Stella to Alaska and into the heart of an Inuit family. Beck spent quite a few years teaching in Alaska and her knowledge of the communities there is put to good use. (I had no idea of the role high school gyms play in the social life of these isolated communities but it makes sense.)

These are good-hearted, easy-going stories with an unexpected edge. It was fun to see the development of this character at whose birth I was present. 

Thank you, Becky! Write on!

Crow Shape Shifter

Maybe It's the Weather . . .,

Three days of foggy, closed-in skies and I find myself growing fractious. So here's one thing getting on my nerves -- misused words and phrases in the media. My inner English teacher is grabbing her red pen and making sarcastic remarks . . . 

You say you're trying to eek out the few remaining bits of chocolate? 

No, dear, eek is what you might say when you spot a mouse. Eke is what you do when you try to make a limited amount last longer.

Your boss insists that everyone tow the line? Unless you're in the business of hauling objects with a rope, actually, it's toe the line, from the days of sailing ships when the crews lined up for inspection etc. along a certain line in the planking on the deck.

Nothing phases you? Perhaps you mean nothing fazes you. Or maybe you have a strong resistance to going through phases...

And now you say you're reigning in your use of social media. Please, unless someone declared you king or queen of Facebook or Twitter, what you want is reining in -- slowing down just as one would slow a horse by pulling on the reins.

Did it peak your interest -- bring it to an all time high? Or did it pique your interest -- just a little jab to get your attention?

My favorite is, perhaps, when you say you await some anticipated event with baited breath. I at once imagine someone who's been gorging on sushi and has bits of raw tuna between his teeth. Bated  is a form of abated and when referring to breath, it means you're holding it.

There are many more (I'm keeping a little list) but that's enough snark for today. Maybe the sun will come out and I can hobble outside and find something to photograph. 

Orchids and Hellebores

Greens and Pork and Black-eyed Peas

On New Year's Eve we enjoyed filet mignon with Bearnaise sauce (yes, I'm cooking again) along with baked potatoes, broccoli, and salad. Also bubbly. 

Last night we had the traditional New Year's Day good luck meal of pork, black-eyed peas, and greens -- along with rice and sweet potatoes.  It's a meal from my childhood - though my grandmother didn't sprinkle Ras al Hanout seasoning on the sweet potatoes the way I did (and heartily recommend.) 

Nor did she serve bubbly but we figured 2017 may need all the help it can get.

A special feature of the meal was that the greens were fresh from our garden -- planted back in September and lightly touched by frost -- I was amazed that they had come through the drought of October and November.

 They were tender and delicious -- may 2017 be the same!

2017 . . . Wishing All a Happy New Year!

Breaking Up Christmas

As always, I'll spend the last day of the year deconstructing the Christmas tree. According to my maternal grandmother, it's bad luck to leave the tree up in the New Year. I don't actually believe that -- I know folks who leave it up much longer and they seem to be doing okay. I know of others who put the tree up Thanksgiving afternoon and take it down Christmas afternoon.

But I enjoy following my grandmother's tradition -- and not having to make the decision of just when to take the tree down - the 6th of January? before February? March?

Easier just to get it down and keep my grandmother's spirit happy.

Since I wasn't here when the tree was put up, I'll enjoy handling the ornaments and remembering their stories . . . and John will haul the bare tree out before sundown and we'll be have a modest little New Year's Eve celebration. 

Happy to be here!

Crow Waits

High above the world,

Air-wrapped, twig-balanced, crow waits.

Clouds build; crow abides.

Somehow I see this crow as a guide for the coming year . . . 

Back Off . . .

Miss Birdie Comes Home

Why, good morning, Lizzie Beth! Come right in and get you a chair.  Reckon you was surprised to find here. Dor'thy said she'd call and let you know I was back home but I told her you'd be headed out this morning and directly you saw smoke coming out the chimbly you'd stop to see who was here.

Did you uns have a fine Christmas with all the young uns there? I reckon it was a houseful -- law, what good times!

No, I didn't expect to be home so soon. When you come to the nursing home on Christmas Eve with all them nice Christmas gifts, I told you it was like to be another week before they'd let me go.  And my, how I hated that but there weren't no way around it till I could make it on my own. Then lo and behold, not ten minutes after you'd left, here come Dor'thy and Bernice and Bernice's boy and they had got hold of the head lady there and told her how they'd fixed it so's I could come home. 

You saw that ramp --Bernice's boy built it to make it easier for me to get up to the porch -- I can hobble about with a walker but steps is another thing -- and Dor'thy is going to stay with me as long as I need her. She's out hanging the wash on the line right now and can you smell that soup she's got bubbling on the stove?

Howsomever, they whisked me out of that place like one thing and as we drove back along the highway and I could see the mountains again, I felt like I was brought back to life. Then when we was crossing the bridge and I could see the river once more, oh how my heart swelled in my bosom! I'll confess that there was a time or two in that place when I was so low I wondered would I ever see the river again. 

It was growing dark when we come past the church and there was cars and trucks parked all along the road. Bernice said they was having the Christmas play tonight. I tried to catch a glimpse through the windows but we whirled by so fast I couldn't see a thing. 

And then when we come down along the branch and I saw my own little house and colored lights a-twinkling in the window, why I don't mind telling you I was just about to bust out crying. 

They turned across the bridge and how good it was to hear them old boards rattling like always. I looked over at where I fell when that old bull knocked me down and ran over me and, law, honey, how I escaped being flung down in the branch or knocked against them big rocks, I purely can't make out. Seems there must be a reason I was spared . . .

But I didn't have much time to think on it for they helped me outten the vehicle and up the ramp and when they opened the door, what do you think, there was the folks of the Ridley Branch Freewill Baptist Church all crowded into the house and all of them lifting up their voices in song. Bernice and Dor'thy got me to my recliner and set me down and the folks just kept on singing. 

There was a little cedar set on a table under the window and it was covered with lights and red bow ribbons. And there was plates full of all manner of cookies and cakes and when the folks finished their singing, the preacher said Welcome back home, Miss Birdie, and than Eveleen Davis come out of the kitchen with a paper cup of punch for me and told folks to go help themselves while she fixed me a plate of cookies.

You never saw such a party -- and all them folks coming up to say how glad they was I was back and to offer everwhat help they could. Dor'thy let them know she would be staying with me till I could manage on my own and one by one they said goodnight and started out the door to walk back to the church.

They was singing as they went -- that lonely sounding song about the Three Kings --  and I found my eyes blurring up some . . . just like yours are, honey.

So here I am, back again, thankful for friends and neighbors, and looking forward to another new year in this place I love the best. I tell you, Lizzie Beth, ain't nothing like a little adversity to make a body appreciate what all she's got. But still I ponder on why I was spared . . .

What's that you said? I still have stories to tell? Law, honey, now that I do.

Time to Relax