Blue Ridge blog

It's a bittersweet time of year

The renaissance is my favorite time of year in the Appalachians. The leaves return. HippieHill is refilled and the Klondike Bar overflows.
Yet, I am filled with sadness because so many Appalachian State University students I have come to know and respect will soon graduate and move on.
I know they should. Still, I will miss them.
Take for example, James, aka the Flying Rooster. We've hiked a portion of the Appalachian Trail together where he posed, along side my daughter, as ASU students for an admission brochure. He also worked in the Educational Media Services department near my office. He's one heck of a photographer/photojournalist who worked for the student newspaper. It is not going to be the same without him. He's a great kid turned adult, ready to make his way in this world.

When I saw James today he was sporting a new haircut.
"James, what's with the new do?" I asked.
"I'm trying to get a job off the mountain," he said.
"Whatever I can do, I will," I replied, adding that I have zero clout.
I don't think he heard me, but no matter.
Despite the economy, James will always land on his feet. He' got that undescribable 'where-with-all" gumption I tend to like.
He's a good 'un.
Good luck to James and all graduating students.

Plenty to say, but not much energy left over to say it.
It was almost hot today as we cultivated a new strawberry patch, planted blueberries and tended the grapes, currants, and raspberries.
We are a future fruitopia.

I felt it odd, yet cute that my husband and Iboth chose to wear our overalls today. He has engineer stripes while I sported  denims. We referred to ourselves as "Ma & Pa," all day.

The leaves up here have decided that it is safe to emerge. Today I noticed a progression of green on the mountain. The dogwoods are a few days from blooming and the blush of new buds have progressed to a middle-stage yellow. Next comes the green of spring.

I can't wait.

And I can't wait to sleep either.

G'night:)

Let's make believe it's for real...

If'n someone came to visit me...
Where would we go?
The answer is simple.
I'd cruise them down Broadstone Rd past Charles Church's farm. We might admire his brocolli before we had a taste or two...

Then we'd pass the old Baird Farm and head towards the center of Valle Crucis.
For sure we would check out The Candy Barrel. I'd slow down near the Mast Farm Inn to see the new bunnies. We might head back into the Valle proper to dip our toes into the river at the park or go admire the growing veggies at the SD farm. I don't know. Things go pleasantly slow here so we would have plenty of time to decide.
But eventually, we'd drive up my road and park our rear ends in the rockers on my newly cleaned deck and soak in the views of an Appalachian spring.
That's what we'd do.

An Attention Getter

Payday has arrived for those of us who have weathered the many bitter winter months.
Though the forecast calls for snow next week, I'm going to put my fingers in my ears and sing "La-la-la-la-la," and pretend I don't know any better.
I saw this backlit cherry tree backlit along Hwy. 105 as I drove into work this morning. I gleefully stopped my Jeep and snapped a photo.

A Tea Party in Boone, NC

I rushed home after work this evening only to be caught up in the rush hour traffic jam caused by the closing of King St. As I inched passed the Hardee's on Blowing Rock Rd., I  ran into Boone's own Tax Day Tea Party.
If you know me at all, you know I can't resist a protest. I grabbed my camera and ran into the crowd. I saw plenty of familiar and friendly faces.
This is a small town, after all.
An 8 foot trailer was the speaking platform and I estimate there was anywhere from 200-250, maybe more...folks gathered around. There were plenty of children present and the crowd was engaged, yet calm. If observers from some other opposition camp were there, they were not apparent and were respectful of the group's freedom of speech.
As we were all reminded by 8 years of the anti-Bush administration bumper stickers: "Dissent is the highest form of patriotism" and "If you aren't outraged, then you aren't paying attention."
So it is now time for the other side to biatch. And they did.
But not with drums and patchoulli. ( y'all know I am allergic to patchoulli, right?)
Instead they spoke via placards with quotes from Jefferson and other constitutional designers.
I did not witness extreme Right Wing extremists/terrorists in the crowd nor did I see any ACORN representatives taking names to hand over to Obama.
What I saw was everyday Wataugans pretty darn irritated with what they consider irresponsible government spending from not only the current administration and congress, but from those that preceded it...

P.S. I have a small photo album on my sidebar.

I would call this our palatial shack we have made our own...

He laughs when dead bug dust falls on my face, delighted by my girlie outburst of disgust. Yet, he is not nearly as amused when the spider dribbles down its web, landing on his bicep. I smile as he squishes the bug with his bare hand.
We are high, perched on scaffolding, patching the deck ceiling.
My husband and I have a lengthy honey-do list we are working on together. Last weekend we tackled lumberjack duties. This weekend we repaired ill-fitting vinyl siding.
I'm unsure how many husbands enjoy their wives working side-by-side with them in the tool shed, but my husband seems to like my company. He makes hard, nasty work almost fun.
And he is patient. Yesterday he handed me a riveter and said, "This is your job, Rosie." And he showed me what to do with it. After I made several failed attempts with the tool, he climbed down from his wobbly walk board to my rescue.
Finally, at 7 p.m., with our back and shoulder muscles weary and our faces smudged in god-knows-what kind of bug feces, we sat in our rockers and admired our accomplishment.
Our place may not be fancy, but oh how I love shackin' up with that man.

(PS-The photo of this lovely homestead on Dutch Creek Rd in Valle Crucis Is Not our house. We should be so lucky.)

Annie likes ducks and bluebirds like Valle Crucis...

I took Annie out to the Valle Crucis wetlands yesterday afternoon where she quickly discovered her dominate 'water fowl chasing' gene. It is a very good thing ducks can fly.
And speaking of birds, I met up with Dr. Lynn Siefferman at the Goodnight Brother Sustainable Development farm yesterday. She and an ASU student were busy installing bluebird houses around the farm. Lynn is a behaviorial ecologist at ASU and is continuing her award winning research in studying plumage color of the eastern bluebird’s brightness of color and how it correlates with personality traits and choice of mate. She began her research in the Meat Camp and Todd areas of Watauga county but hopes to extend it into the Valle Crucis community.
If you own property near an open field and wouldn't mind if Lynn and a grad student put up a bird house and then occasionally access your land to study the bird's behavior, please let me know and I'll put you in touch with her. Think of it this way, the bluebird has always been a symbol of happiness. By attracting more bluebirds to the area, you'll be helping the Valle be a happier place than it already is. Thanks.

April is for sassy snows and women...

I'm sit here tonight, wrapped in my favorite afghan, determined to finish this post tout de suite because my dear friend Jeff lent me Joe McNally's book "The Moment it Clicks," and I can't wait to obtain more intimate knowledge of the inner workings of the flash. Such a strange creature it is...

On the home front: Life is good. It snowed today and though I am ready for Spring, I know all our snows from here on out will be short-lived. I went to the Mast Store today to collect my mail. In the box was a birthday card from my parents with a sum of money tucked inside. I did not have time to check out their selection of overalls, but knew exactly how I was gonna spend the money.  I need a pair of overalls and  and by gosh, that's what I'm gonna get. And if'n there is a bit o cash left over, then I'll certainly check out their selection shoes. I'm feeling sassy.

In summary...

Yesterday I was cloistered in a conference all afternoon. It was rainy and cold so I didn't mind. At 6 p.m. when I was released from my work duties, I walked across the parking lot amazed to find the world bathed in sun and warmish temps. I raced home to see if I could salvage enough daylight to have a relaxing conversation with my husband on our deck. It was there we dissected our days, which took like two seconds because there was no particularly exciting drama to discuss. He pointed out our crab apple tree which is about to blossom and I noticed the blush of spring buds covering a certain section of a ridge below. He lit his daily cigar while I scooched my chair up wind from him and we sat together in comfortable silence.

BTW, my husband is giving up his daily cigar. The habit just became too costly.
And times are tough but not so bad for Glemie Dean Beasely of Detroit. Yes sir, he's making the most of what Detroit now offers.