seriously

 

While having fun, you are allowed to take yourself seriously

Your time is precious 

No one else can can be you

No one can replace you 

You are worth the money

The investment 

You are not trouble 

Or wasteful 

Give yourself big hugs

And fortify for the work ahead in your own name 

For no other reason than you are yourself and you are worthy of these acts of love 

Every single day….

Begin again as many times as required. 

All travelers take rest. 

 I started playing with the idea of silence 

and how even our idea of silence 

contains infinitesimal noise 

things like the heat pump

and creaks in the house 

but we call it quiet

fell asleep early and awoke to banging thirty minutes ago

From a glance out the window large water leak 

massive backhoe 

and dump truck down the street 

with flood lights aimed at a neighbors yard 

animals now wide awake 

no water

Book Eight

King's Mountain 

coincidentally about my ancestors. 

The Seviers. 

I've spent the past year reading over so many historical records pertaining to this branch of my family, my father's family.

My last familial Sevier in name being Mary Polly Sevier of then Mouth of the Wolf, Overton County Tennessee, Willow Grove, where her father and mother with multiple relatives had settled on 65,000 acres gifted to the Seviers. This area later flooded by the TVA to create Dale Hollow and bring electricity across the state. 

Mary marries a Turner and Severe (sic) is last written on the death certificate of her daughter who I have had a photograph of since I was ten years old. 

Rebecca Jane Turner Goodall 

in the photo also stands her daughter for who I am named. 

we're here now

 in the past few weeks as I venture into the community close to home 

I notice how much of it is new.

not the places,

the geography is much the same, 

appalachia is a slow place, 

but the people. 

all these groups I have joined 

all composed by people 

not here before pandemic. 

I find it a little amazing in a way 

over thirty souls who had never seen or spent time in our area, aside from vacations, 

rolling in from: 

new hampshire 

connecticut 

florida 

new york 

vermont 

and any handful of states and cities that typically we never saw a transplant from previously.

"Tennessee's animal laws are awful! I'm sorry but they are" 

"Don't look at me when you say that! We're from Florida"

I raise my hand. 

"I was born and raised here."

"Why are your laws so bad?"

It takes me a moment to determine what 'bad' means

and I realize that in relation to city laws

we had laws governing the keeping of animals as it pertained to the small self-sustaining plots of land 

and animals 

as people once were too,

workers.

in my mind I see my own grandfather's dog running fields

keeping sheep in

moles, groundhogs, and coyotes at bay. 

no one would ever have instituted a 'leash law' 

or a law about proper housing

the dog got in the barn with the straw and other animals when needed

no one kept a field animal without proper water

it ate table scraps before my nana composted.

I start to speak and someone talks over me 

"We're here now!" 

as if in triumph

her mere presence bettering appalachia because

she is standing here

and was from 

somewhere else.

no desire to know history

or understand time

or her neighbors.

lacking any respect for place.

 tonight I made chili from scratch

even the seasoning my own concoction

created through small tastes while it boiled

a pinch 

a flick 

another stir. 

mama brought an apple cake.

we shared with my neighbor who mended my fence after a large limb fell on it

last night I took him and his wife vegetable beef soup

made from the leftover roast, fresh vegetables added in a tomato-based broth.

I finished Lessons in Chemistry. 

I laughed. I cried. 

I have ordered so many cheap large print books. 

It feels amazing to be reading again and enjoying it. 

Even though work will be starting, and I need to be focused on our book group read of the month

I started Station Eleven. 

This will be read seven for 2025. 

who knew I wasn't reading because it hurt to try that hard to see?

tomorrow Mama and I have planned a quilting day. 

frying bacon

 I fried bacon and sausage,

scrambled eggs, 

and made waffles this morning. 

I don't typically cook large breakfasts. 

My mama always did though 

almost every day of my childhood 

Fried in cast iron, a skillet she still has, though it has grown harder for her to lift now with her arthritic wrists. 

the smell of the breakfast cooking alone reminds me of being a kid

the aroma of waking up in a country house

my father's coffee in the background when he was home. 

I watched the chickadees out the kitchen window 

and mentally made a list of ingredients that will bridge meals

hoping to save a bit this month 

since I will be a few weeks without pay

so many weeks for this year.

when my W2 came back I had to laugh at myself

for all my traveling 

and trying 

I made less last year than had I simply worked here in town.

I am home

and I watch the birds out the window

and make imaginary grocery lists in my mind 

occasionally glancing at the hot grease popping over a slender slice of pork in the skillet.