Up until just a few months ago, I have lived my entire life in or within a few mile radius of Akron, Ohio. Most of the people that I know have also lived their entire lives in that same area. I know, or at least am acquainted with, many good people with big hearts that have always been kind, caring, compassionate and generous with not only us, but anyone else they come in contact with. But working in the public venue for most of my adult life I have also come into contact with just as many, if not more, selfish, rude and impolite people. Here's where I'm going with this... in the few short months of living here in these beautiful mountains, I have witnessed more of what most people would call "random acts of kindness" than I have in the past few years of living in Ohio. As a matter of fact, I would even be tempted to retitle them Common Acts of Kindness. Some are so touching that they will bring a tear to your eye. Some are actually kind of comical. One of the funnier ones that we were witness to happened just yesterday in the parking lot of our local Walmart. We were waiting behind a car to turn down an aisle to find a parking space. The car was sitting still for what seemed an extra long amount of time waiting to make its left turn. As there were no cars coming the opposite direction, Mountain Man and I began looking around to see what the holdup could be. There, standing at the end of the row of cars, was an elderly gentleman with a cane. You could tell by the way that he was standing that to walk was a chore for him. We realized that the lady in the car ahead of us was waiting and waving him across the crosswalk in front of her. After two waves and no movement on his part, she rolled down her window and kindly told the gentleman that she was waving him across and he was free to go. He then told her, I understand that, but I'm not crossing, just waiting here for someone! It brought to mind the old show Laugh In where the boy scout would pick up Ruth Buzzy, who was dressed as an old lady, and carry her across the street when she didn't want to go and she would end up beating him with her purse. This instance wasn't as animated or as violent for that matter, but still made us giggle. We have witnessed and been a part of so many acts of kindness here that there are just too many to mention.
On Friday of this week, Mountain Man was invited by one of our new friends to go with him to check out the hunting grounds in our area. Always up for a hunting adventure, Mountain Man gladly took him up on his offer. After a good four or five hours, they returned to our house to fill me in on their adventures. Expecting only to hear about the trails they found and the animals that they saw, I was only slightly excited to hear the tales they had to tell. Well, I couldn't have been more wrong. The tale that they had to tell was about one of the most emotional acts of kindness that I have ever heard. You see, our new friend is of Cherokee decent. He was raised not to be proud of his heritage, but to not acknowledge that part of who he is. Therefore his children were also not raised to be a proud descendant of the native people. A few years ago, after learning much about his descendants and his heritage, he decided that he would like to have a statue erected in Meeks Park, our local community park, to honor the tribes of our area. He started a small fundraising campaign to obtain the $32,000 that it will cost for the statue to be commissioned. It will be sculpted by Daniel Horse Chief, who is of Cherokee, Pawnee decent and is from Oklahoma. This started out for our friend to be a tribute to his people who were not only stripped of their land, but also of their lives, to acknowledge that this is their home. This plan seemed to take on a life of its own. It has now gone way past the statue. Our friend is now waiting to be able to meet with the congressmen from here in Georgia to get approval from the federal government to officially welcome the tribes back to their original homes here in the four county area of the North Georgia Mountains. This might not sound like a big deal, but it would be the first time in our country's history that the native people have been officially welcomed back to the land that was stolen from them so long ago. In case you are wondering, this has nothing to do with the so called "Indian Casinos". This would be a much more personal welcome. No one thinks that there will be a mass exodus of the tribes that were displaced to Oklahoma back here to Georgia. After all, the people have lives and careers and homes where they reside now. What it will do is to open our communities and towns to anyone who would be interested in relocating, opening businesses and making a life in their true native land. There would be help set up to assist these people in reestablishing a life here in their mountains.
Mountain Man and I have always felt a strong connection to the native tribes. I'm not sure if it is just from our history lessons or if we were part of these tribes in another lifetime. Either way, I feel that this act is long overdue. Mountain Man and I feel blessed to have a friend that has sacrificed so much of his heart, time and not to mention personal funds, to extend this kindness to the most deserving of people.
If you are interested in learning more about this endeavor, please check out the webpage at We Are Still Here. It is a little outdated since it has taken longer to raise the funds and obtain the meetings that need to take place to make to make this happen. And until next week, let's all go out and commit some acts of kindness!
We have yet another beautiful Sunday morning here on our mountain. Sunny, cool breeze blowing, birds singing back and forth with one another, the mountainside is a little more kissed with the colors of autumn. Even though we are in a drought and desperately need rain, I still appreciate these beautiful mornings. This is my religion. This is my peace.
The eldest of our three mountain chillin' and her hubs came and stayed with us for a few days. We not only celebrated her birthday with a beautiful trail ride through the mountains, we put them to work. Mountain Man and I are blessed to have a wonderful family that is always willing to help each other with whatever needs to be done. Whether it is as simple as raking leaves to as complex as remodeling a house. It is awesome because there is no one keeping track of who helps the most or the least, it's just let's do this and get it done! This weekend, it was a major kitchen organization and painting a cathedral ceilinged living room. Thank goodness for tall kids and hubs! We were able to get a great deal done in a short amount of time which still left enough time for play. They also brought our grand puppy with them. It was so nice to have a dog's energy in our house again. This is something that I've missed since our Bailey found her time had come to go and live in another dimension. Her spirit is always with us, but it is also nice to be able to physically snuggle with a puppy.
Today we will slow our pace back down to mountain time. It's funny how quickly you acclimate to the slower pace of life here. It now feels more natural to me to take my time and relax as I do things instead of rushing. I feel that my body and mind are more in sync with my creator and the earth this way. I may not get as much done as quickly, but I feel that I do it better and more thoughtfully.
The only thing that is a must on our to do list today is to repair the sliding screen door that goes out onto the deck yet again. You see, it is a bad habit that Mountain Man and our oldest chile have acquired. They either ignore or forget about the doors. The oldest chile has actually given herself a pretty severe case of whiplash by walking into a patio door. More than once! Mountain man has also perfected this bad habit. Once while in Florida, I witnessed him walking into a glass patio door with such speed that I could actually see the glass bow. All I can say is thank goodness for hurricane and Mountain Man proof glass. Today's event was much more minor. After going inside from the deck, he closed the screen door behind him. A few minutes later, as I was sitting on the swing, I heard a crash and looked over in time to see the screen door come flying off the frame and into the deck rail and Mountain Man hot on its tail with a look of great shock on his face. I am grateful that the deck rail is a strong one, or he would have been testing his flying skills. There were no injuries incurred in this latest event, so feel free to laugh now! I have decided that I will not only buy an extra repair kit for the screen door, but I will be buying a few screen hangers to put on the screen in hopes of catching people's attention and warning them that the door is indeed closed!
This week, we will be working on the guest bedroom and bath. Check back next week to see what fun that brings!
Reading the title of this chapter of my blog probably brings to mind a beautiful autumn scene of a roaring waterfall amid colorful leaves gently falling from the forest of trees. You may even be able to imagine the cool mist of the falls along with the gentle breeze carrying the leaves. Yeah, well, you wouldn't be further from right! One day last week, after a full day of working to paint and update the master bathroom, I was getting cleaned up in the guest bathroom to make yet another trip to our local Home Depot. We are on a first name basis with most of the cashiers there now. As I said, I was getting cleaned up and Mountain Man was out on the deck working on one of his many projects. I finished in the shower, stepped out and turned off the water. I no sooner had the cold water shut off, turned to grab my towel and heard a whoosh and a thunk. I turned back around to see a torrent of water coming out of the wall so hard it was hitting the back wall of the shower. It was coming out where the cold water faucet used to be. I was grabbing at the shower curtain to try and contain as much of the water as possible in the tub while yelling for Mountain Man to shut off the main water valve. Being on the deck, he couldn't hear the water, only my desperate calls for help. MM came running in toward the bathroom, thinking that I had fallen in the shower. Once he saw what, looking back at it now, was quite a sight, me in all my glory battling an uncontrollable gush of water, he knew he was headed in the wrong direction and made a B line for the basement. Thank goodness, just the day before we had looked to see where the shut off valve for the entire house was, so he knew right where to go. I don't know if I ever told you this, but, Mountain Man's nickname is Mr. FixIt, so in a matter of minutes he had figured out that the entire cold water stem had unscrewed itself, or had never been properly screwed in. Either way, he had everything fixed quickly and was helping me sop up all of the water that managed to escape the shower.
A few days later, we had purchased a new toilet for the master bath and were installing it. I don't know how toilet savvy you are, but we had no idea that the new toilets come with a pump system instead of the old flapper system. They say that it gives you a much more powerful flush with much less water. I don't know about that, but I do know that it was more like working on a spaceship than a simple toilet! After much analyzing, reading, and rereading the directions, the unit was finally installed. We were ready for the "maiden flush"! Never having seen a "pump" toilet work, we decided to leave the lid off so we could watch the "super pump action" that this unit was advertised to have. That was our first mistake. Our second mistake was taking too literally the instructions saying not to over tighten the tank to the seat because it would cause cracking and breaking of either or both parts. So, with the excitement and anticipation of a child on Christmas morning, we flushed! No where in the installation instructions did it say that if the toilet is flushed without the lid on that the water will spray straight upward like a geyser. And you can imagine where the rest of the water went since the bolts for the tank were obviously not tightened enough! This time, I was the runner to get every available towel while Mountain Man shut off the water to the toilet and tried to contain the water that was quickly making its way toward our bedroom. After rereading the directions AGAIN and resecuring the bolts, all the while holding our breath that we wouldn't hear any cracking noises, we were ready for the longed perfect flush. As we are fast learners, we put the top on the tank this time and proceeded to flush. And the perfect flush it was. Not an errant drop of water anywhere. We were back in business!
After all of that excitement, I was ready for a break. On the back of our house we have a 40 foot long, 20 foot high deck that overlooks the mountain that we live on. With being up so high, I am able to sit and watch at eye level the leaves flutter on the trees and every once in a while, I am able to see one as it comes loose of the tree and floats to the ground. You always hear people talking about mindfulness. This is a perfect example of being mindful. Having
your mind relaxed and empty enough that you can totally, without even trying, focus on that one beautiful leaf's journey from limb to ground. Noticing nothing else around you. This is why I am here. This is why I love this place. To be able to take the time, calm my crazy mind and focus on the incredible perfection that is nature. To see all of the gifts that my creator has given to me so abundantly and that I rushed through life and totally missed out on until now. As my journey continues, I am anticipating many new and amazing experiences, even some wet and maybe less that perfect experiences and I am so honored to be able to share them with you. Thank you!
Anyone who has known me for very long knows of my love for music. It started at a very young age. Some of my earliest memories of music in my life are my mom playing the huge wooden console radio that sat in the corner of our dining room. WAKR was the station and that was back in the day when they played all the top hits. As she would lay out sheets on the dining room table and sprinkle them, one of her favorite songs would come on the radio. As she would be ironing sheets, I would be playing on the floor near her and we would sing "Red Roses for A Blue Lady" by Dean Martin. To this day, I can't hear that song without that vision coming to my mind.
On my brother's thirteenth birthday, I was three and I remember him getting his first record player. It was a portable in a red and white leather case that you had to take the top off of to play records. I think that I loved that gift even more than he did. A few of his first records were some of my favorite. One in particular, Lemon Tree by Peter, Paul and Mary was my absolute favorite. Looking back, I feel bad for my poor brother, every time the record player came out, I would beg him to play that record for me. He finally got so sick of it that he either threw out the record or gave it to a friend. I was never sure which, but I missed that song. From there, I learned the words to most of Frankie Valley and the Four Seasons songs. I still love their music.
For my first five years of school, I went to St. Paul's Catholic School. They never had much in the way of music class. In my fifth grade year, after having five long years of not fitting into the catholic school dogma, my parents finally put me in public school. Much to my delight, they had choir! A class where I could actually get to listen to music and sing for the whole hour! That quickly became my favorite class. From that point on, all I wanted to do was to be able to sing and play instruments. Unfortunately for me, I had relatively little talent in either area, but that never stopped my love and desire for music in my life.
I was never able to take piano or dance like most of my friends did, but that never stopped me! I would tag along with them to their lessons trying to pick up pointers as I sat quietly and watched. When my friends would get new dance costumes, I would gladly take their old ones and I would have them teach me the steps to the dances that they used them for. This led to my love of feeling the music move through my body and moving me to dance. This was one of my requirements when Mountain Man proposed to me. Will you always dance with me? The answer was obviously yes. We've been dancing now for 26 years.
All through the rest of my schooling, I always participated in choir and Singers. I've never figured out if the instructors had pity on me since I had such a sincere love of music or whether they were that desperate for bodies and voices. Either way, I loved every minute of it. I even got to sing a few solos throughout my high school years.
In my early adult life, my love of music stayed strong. I was now able to buy all of the albums then eight tracks and then onto cassettes and CDs that I wanted. My choice of music was widely varied. Once my Mountain Chillin' came along, I made sure that they had a variety of music in their lives also, starting with classical when they were newborns.
As life progresses, as it does sometimes, some of your favorite things fall by the wayside. Life gets too busy to make time for yourself and the things that you love most. This is what happened with me and music. For the last 10-15 years, sadly, music was not high on my priority list. I felt as if I had lost a close friend. A part of me was missing.
As Mountain Man and I are settling into our new house and our new community a little more, we are finding something that I had known in the past but I had not really thought about. The people of the south have music in their souls. They have a great amount of talent, a love and appreciation for it, and a desire to share it. Since we have been in the mountains, my old friend, music, is coming back to live on in my soul again. Every Friday and Saturday evenings, there is a free concert somewhere to enjoy. Fridays are usually at the old court house with a wide variety of music from blue grass to jazz. Saturdays are where everyone of the local bands is playing. The rest of the evenings are a step back to my childhood. We sit on the porch swing and listen to the radio. I still have all of my music collection. The only things that I have gotten rid of were the eight tracks. I was sad about that, but I had nothing left to play them on. I have replaced most of them with either cassettes or CDs.
I am so happy to have my old friend back again. My music fills me up. It moves my soul and more times than not, my feet. Welcome home, my dear friend, welcome home!
