Dear Sandra,

~ Sadie, looking forward ~

There's a new magazine and blog called FOLK, Live Authentic and says it's "the story of modern, authentic American life. We bring a fresh, youthful perspective to today's American culture while preserving the past through sharing the American story, and the story of those living authentic lives." It says a lot more and, while losing me at the "fresh, youthful" part, I'm picked up at the "preserving the past" and "living authentic lives" part. From what I've read, I'm at least old enough to be everyone's Mother if not their Gran and that's fine with me. At least I'm still alive to give a nudge to the yunginn's every now and agin. -smile-
If you go to the Journaling Agenda page, there's a weekly blog writing prompt and, as long as I remember, I'm joining in. The first week of this new year is "write a letter to you" so here's mine:

Dearest Sandra,

It's been a year! A year of leaving, learning, growing, standing still, tears, laughter, sorrow, joy, sadness, happiness, big decisions, big risks, a year of holding on and letting go, a year of God and His enormous grace, mercy and love poured out upon you. You, in your ignorance, would have changed Dave's death into life so you could have his protection and provision still. God, in His infinite wisdom, chose otherwise and it has been His protection and provision that has overshadowed you these past long months.
While Dave lived, one of God's last gifts to you was leading Dave to Christ. On Monday morning, Dave asked, "How do I get right with God?" and you spoke of God's gift, His Son Christ, and what that meant for all eternity. Dave made his peace with God and on Saturday morning went Home. Dave asked for two things: to die at home and not to die in the agony of the last stages of cancer. He'd taken care of Cathy, his first wife, in her last stages of cancer and he knew what lay ahead. He told you he wanted to spare you both even though you assured him you wanted him no matter what. In His infinite mercy, God gave Dave his last desires. Dave died of a massive heart attack and he died at home. Those first months you spent in shock. Oh, you did all those things that needed doing and did some of them correctly but made mistakes as well. You listened to others say, "don't you think it's time you got over it? It's been a few months." or "you're a prickly personality" or "you need to get on with life". Yes, and them cozy in bed at night, snugged against their husband!
You gave yourself a year to grieve, a year to focus on the grief and the loss, the aloneness, the knowledge that you were now your own provider and protector...at least, with skin on smile... . That year was given up to tears and the adjustment of being alone, save the animals. You told yourself you'd move on to mourning and leave the grief behind and, mostly, you have but there are times still, the grief catches you unawares and you're poured out, empty, all over again. 
Dave lives on, in Glory, with all those Saints and great cloud of witnesses gone before. God left you to carry on, to ponder, pray and discern His new will for your life. You've an inkling and are spending this first week of the New Year making a calendar, plans and goals for growth in this new direction. There are those who don't feel God speaks to us in this day and age; they are right. You're one who believes God does speak to us you in this day and age and you are right. He speaks in a whisper and you listen, shutting out the noise of daily living, turning off the television, radio and computer; if necessary, turning off the telephone to focus on His voice. He opens a door here, a window there and guides your feet on the narrow path.
True friends have been so kind and acquaintances have been...well, they have been acquaintances. So many times they have approached you and asked intensely personal questions. Why they think they have the right to ask personal questions simply because you know each other is beyond my kin! Some of them haven't spoken to you in years, yet the need to know your personal business overcame any sense of propriety and ask they did. Perhaps, as you answered them, you were gracious but even if you weren't, you can still live with it; you did nothing wrong.
You learned you don't have to do something because someone else tells you that's what you need to do. 
You learned to say, "No, that's not acceptable" and then describe what was acceptable. 
You learned to go toe-to-toe with doctors, nurses, hospital administration and not back down; you learned patients and families have rights, true rights, and not just in word alone. You learned you didn't much care what someone thought of you as long as Dave's needs and comfort were met.
You learned to buy property; to negotiate and bargain. 
You learned to buy and sell cattle but don't think you'll be doing that again! smile You've taken care of the animals, farm, house and learned to ask for help; you learned to listen and heed wise counsel. 
You learned there are millions of people who aren't ready for death, either to someone they love or to themselves. 
You learned you have something to give...the hard-won knowledge gained from Dave dieing so suddenly and without being prepared. That knowledge is being put to paper; "death comes to us or for us, it's best to be prepared." 
You learned love transcends time, life goes on, friends love unconditionally, the prayers of those whom you'll never meet this side of the veil have held you up before His thrown of grace, mercy and love. 
You learned the "righteous will never be forsaken nor His seed beg for bread".
The opportunity to travel afforded you new friends whom you hope to see again but, in the meantime, your prayers, one for another, hold all close.
Most importantly, you've learned...re-learned...God is able in all circumstances and situations if when you get out of His way.
So, dearest Sandra, last year has gone, the new year still has nappies and you're dreaming new dreams, have new plans and goals and are forging ahead. Some things won't change - God first; self, family and friends second and all else trailing behind. As long as you keep your perspectives in the right order, it will all work out according to His plan and glory. Sandra, be gentle with yourself, show yourself love, honor and respect, claim His blessings and promises so you can fill to overflowing and, in turn, bless others.
God bless you, Sandra, and the work of your hands and heart; may the worst of 2013 be claimed from the best of 2012.
You are left in His most capable hands.
Amen.

Today's Miracles - snow on the mountains ~ shining sun ~ Carly, giving nose kisses ~ fire in the wood stove ~ good weather for feeding livestock ~ peace ~

Life Like Water, Stepping on Shadows

Once the wintery mix stopped, it began raining and it's rained and rained and rained and...it's still raining. We've had a few hours of sunshine in the last couple of weeks but, at the moment, can't really remember when. Perhaps last week...? A lot of rain isn't conducive to a positive mental attitude; at least, it's not for me. I'm trying to deal with it but as Dave would say, "yes, you're certainly trying." -smile- His sense of humor is sorely missed.

~ pond where there should be none ~

What with my birthday last month, this month the sixth month anniversary of his death followed by his birthday two days later, life has been, as you may well imagine, full of shadows. Daily it seems, I'm stepping on shadows and memories of days gone by, trips taken, words spoken, dreams past, present but not future. At least, not with Dave. The danger is in falling into and staying in the rut of memory; it's so much easier than dealing with daily life.

~ a drowned garden ~

Yet, daily life is what pulls me through the day, towards the night, bed, sleep, wakefulness and dreams to get up and do it all over again daily. Life like water, being poured out toward eternity trying to make intelligent decisions, wise choices and not coming across like a lunatical moron. Some days it's easier, more difficult, than others. Some days I'm believable, other days...not so much.

Recently Ann Kroeker wrote that a Pastor Kirk preached on Four Decisions That Will Change Your Life.  His life changing decisions were work out/exercise daily, journal daily, memorize Scripture daily and give the Lord the first hour of every day.

Kroeker quotes A. W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God, "The idea of cultivation and exercise, so dear to the saints of old, has now no place in our total religious picture. It is too slow, too common. We now demand glamour and fast flowing dramatic action. A generation of Christians reared among push buttons and automatic machines is impatient of slower and less direct  methods of reaching their goals. We have been trying to apply machine-age methods to our relations with God."

~ drops, gradually filling even a large container ~

In that slowness, that common pace, I am, at least, on target. I could no more rush or speed ahead right now than I could fly without wings. There are those who tell me I need to do this or that or the other; I listen, sometimes I even think politely, and then do exactly what I need to do right now. Take care of me, the animals, the farm, me. In the meantime, I work on my four decisions, some I've been doing for decades, others I do sporadically and rue my lack of discipline.

Joyce Meyer once said she spends the first few hours each morning with the Lord because "it takes me a long time to get nice in the morning". That amused me because it also takes me a while to get nice in the morning. Unlike you, I'm not a naturally nice person; spending the first couple of hours with God means I have a better chance at making it through the rest of the day without doing harm to others or myself. And, yes, sometimes I am even successful.

~ life like water ~ 

Decades gone by, people would take a year to grieve and mourn the loss of a spouse. Now, if you're not back at work the Monday after the Saturday funeral, people wonder what's the problem. The problem is emotions are messy and most want to rush by them without letting them have an impact. Call me crazy but I'm trying to deal with the grief now so it doesn't pop up later. Is that possible, do you think?

Life has taken a turn and I'm trying to adjust, watching my life pour like water, feet attempting to dodge stepping on shadows. And, no, I'm not always successful.

Blessings ~ rain ~ sunny days ~ decisions ~ Kirk ~ Tozer ~ Meyer ~ Kroeker ~

Grief Unadorned

"Good grief!", (no pun intended) I can hear you saying. Is she going to ratchet on again about grief? Well, yeah so if you don't want to read this post, now would be a really, really good time to click on the delete/close key. Actually, Glenda wrote a post on Virtual Friends - Real Sisters and it started me thinking all over again. Just like deju vu...all over again except it's constant...about how people have responded to Dave's death and how I'm handling it, coping with it, dealing with it and, in two words, I'm not. At least, I'm not dealing coping handling how some think I should be coping dealing handling and, when I honestly respond to them they are seldom seen, never to be heard from again.
So, do you think it's the "honestly" part or the fact I respond at all? It surprises me that sometimes it hurts that some of  those folks have disappeared but I try not to waste too much thought and energy on them. That's in huge part because there's only so much energy and strength to go 'round and the more I give to away, the less I have for what really matters right now. Surviving. Animals. Farm work. Paperwork. Eating. Sleeping. me.
Some while ago, I was talking to someone about Patrick Swayze's wife and her book, Worth Fighting For: Love, Loss, and Moving Forward and this person said, "well, how tough could her grief have been? I mean, she's found time to write a couple of books about it; seems to me she's cashing in on her husband's death." I don't recall I said anything because I didn't know what to say but, last week I saw Lisa Niemi Swayze's book at the library and brought it home to read. Later, I stated doing i-net searches on her, her husband, grief and have found some interesting material.
One person berated Lisa for taking off her wedding ring and taking on her husband's last name. Apparently, Lisa and Patrick were married for more than three decades and she waited to take his last name after he died. Now, I don't know any of this for sure; it's just what I've read on the i-net and, too often, that's like rumors and opinions and y'alll know what's said about those.
Anyway, I think I understand why she took her husband's last name, now, months after he's died. They didn't have any children and the longer one is dead, the more people forget. That's one of the things that hurts so dreadfully; people forget. Even worse, they don't want to listen when, once again, someone brings up the name Patrick, Dave or you fill in the name of your loved one gone ahead.
About her book: it's helping me simply because she's so dang honest and honesty is something I appreciate even when I don't like it.

When Dave got sick, early days in treatment were terrible horrible difficult and sometimes I responded unkindly not so well. It made makes me furious Dave would do things that, deliberately, put him behind the eight ball and caused him to regress and not move forward. Yes, I realized it was Dave's decision, always, to do what he thought best wanted to do for himself but I hated when those decisions would put him in hospital, fighting for his life. I hated the fights we had when I didn't handle his crummy decisions with grace and kindness. I hated I loved him so much I despised his decisions that put him at even greater risk.
I hated when so-called friends couldn't handle cope deal with Dave's illness and used any excuse to stay away. One acquaintance thought we were close enough she could ask us for $6K loan. Mind, this woman is someone neither Dave nor I ever met and only knew through e-mails. When she found out we were not that close and two  months later when I told her Dave had cancer, she never responded. Yes, that's right...we've never heard from her again. So, was it not loaning her the $6K or Dave had cancer...hmmmmm... yet, her by-line is "love you. mean it." Seriously?
Another woman whom I've known for more than four decades wrote me a letter, making sure it arrived two or three days after Dave was buried, and said, "I'm now a liberal and we have nothing in common." WOW! Did she honestly think her political leanings weren't known or that we cared? For  Dave's sake, I still hate she was so lacking in basic human decency she couldn't didn't send Dave a card, e-mail or even pick up the stinkin' telephone while he was fighting for his life. And, yes, she did know because she referenced his illness in her letter to me. One favor she did, she let me know her friendship is conditional so neither of us have to waste any more time on the other. Thanks!
If you're a regular reader, you know I recently wrote this: "Dave would tell me, It's my job to protect and provide for you and my family." I'd reply, "And it's my job to take care of you."
In his fight with cancer, doctors, nurses, "friends" I became Dave's protector and would, sometimes quite fiercely, get between Dave and them. I would threaten, cajole, plead, beg and do whatever I had to do to protect Dave. It didn't matter what people thought of me as long as Dave was protected and shielded.
Now, he's dead, grief my constant companion and I am my own protector. People, again not friends and in some instances not even acquaintances but merely someone whom I've met, tell me how and when and why I should deal with grief, set it aside, get on with my life.

To quote Brenda Leigh Johnson, "Why thank yew. Thank yew so much." 

NOT!

I've written before about the Stages of Grief and am finding out there is more insight into grief and the grieving process. Dr. Ursula Weide writes "Can Grief be Brief?" and knows first hand because her husband died at age 47. Dr. Weide is a Fellow in Thanatology and her writings have helped me are helping me understand I'm not losing my mind nor getting dementia. Traumatic bereavement is Very Real and, in my words, it takes as long as it takes. There's no magic pill, no amount of exercise, no amount of prayer that will put me on the other side until I get there. I can't predict the triggers that will render me impotent, on my belly on the kitchen floor, sobbing my heart out. I can only hope and pray those triggers continue to happen at home and not in public but...it is what it is. Grief, my grief, isn't pretty; it's raw, a gaping, messy wound that rips naked emotion out of me and brings dark thoughts. Grief is physical: my muscles hurt and joints ache and I feel I age a decade every hour. I wrestle with life and, most days, it's a violent effort to stay upright much less move forward. I am in mortal combat.

Beloved, I continue to struggle.

Blessings ~ only 24 hours in a day ~

Sabbath Keeping

 ~ we see as through fog ~

"The sun will no more be your light by day, nor will the brightness of the moon shine on you, for the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory. Your sun will never set again, and your moon will wane no more; the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end."
~ Isaiah 60:19-20 ~

"He gives light to the sun." ~ St. Patrick ~

"Give me thy grace, good Lord, to make death no stranger to me. Give me, good Lord, a longing to be with thee, not for the avoiding of the calamities of this wretched world; nor so much for the avoiding of the pains of purgatory, nor of the pains of hell neither, nor so much for the attaining of the joys of heaven in respect of mid own commodity, as even for a very love to thee." ~ St. Thomas More ~

"Now it is you alone that I love,

you alone that I follow,

you alone that I seek,

you alone that I feel ready to serve,

because you alone rule justly.

It is to your authority alone that I want to submit.

Command me, I pray, to do whatever you will,

but heal and open my ears

that I may hear your voice.

Heal and open my eyes

that I may see your will.

Drive out from me

all fickleness,

That I may acknowledge you alone.

Tell me where to look

that I may see you,

and I will place my hope in doing your will. Amen. ~

~ St. Augustine ~

"And the world and its desire are passing away, but those who do the will of God live forever."
~ I John 2:17 ~

"Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,

Die not, poor Death, not yet canst thou kill me

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,

Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, 

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;

And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die."

~ John Donne ~

"In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God, our brother, J.A.W., Sr., and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace. Amen."  ~ Book of Common Prayer based on Genesis 3:19 ~

"Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace." ~ Luke 2:29 ~

Blessings ~ the Son ~ a life well lived ~ a short sleep ~sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord, and Savior, Jesus Christ ~

Thanks for visiting Thistle Cove Farm,
Sandra

Sabbath Keeping

The Hunt for the Unicorn Tapestries ~

Are you familiar with the Unicorn Tapestries? Some believe unicorns to be an animal of myth and mystery, a fable if you will. Not I. I believe unicorns existed until man hunted them out of existence just as other species have been hunted out of existence. I know many people who don't believe in them just as they don't believe our beloved companion animals and pets won't be in heaven with us.O ye of little faith! If one chooses to believe our beloved companion animals and pets won't be in heaven with them...they are correct. Their faith won't be rewarded. But for those who believe, what a day, glorious day, that will be when we, not only, see Christ but also our four legged friends!

Can you tell I'm a believer? -smile- Faith, as a child has, I have in abundance.

The Unicorn Tapestries are, generally, considered to be the finest surviving set of medieval tapestries in the world and the seven tapestries tell the story of a unicorn hunt. The Hunt of the Unicorn Tapestries, as they are correctly known, are hanging at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City at The Cloisters and are believed to have been woven between 1495 and 1515 in the Netherlands. In 1680 they were noted as part of the inventory of belongings of French Duke Francoise VI de La Rouchefoucauld. In 1922, John D. Rockefeller, Jr. purchased some of the tapestries and in 1938 the Cloisters opened with the tapestries gifted to the museum.

The tapestries are woven in wool, metallic threads and silk and the vibrant colors were produced with just three plant dyes - weld for yellow, madder for red and woad for blue. Can you imagine?!! THREE dye plants! Only three! Yet those three, and combinations thereof, are responsible for these tapestries that defy description.

The Unicorn Tapestries are now being recreated at Stirling Castle, Scotland. The project began in 2002, is expected to be completed in 2014 and tapestries one, four and seven are completed. One of three weavers works every day, save Christmas and perhaps one or two other days on the Unicorn Tapestries. This is an amazing task especially when one considers there are only three primary weavers. Surely in medieval times there would have been dozens of weavers but we'll never truly know.

Thimbleanna wrote about her visit to Stirling Castle and then The Cloisters where she saw both the original and the recreated tapestries. What a wonderful thing...to have seen both! Please visit her and read about her accounting as well as see a lot of beautiful photographs.

While extremely beautiful, I find the tapestries sad. The Bible speaks of unicorns, several times, and one time is Job 39:9-12 "Will the unicorn be willing to serve thee, or abide by thy crib? Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow? or will he harrow the valleys after thee? Wilt thou trust him, because his strength is great? or wilt thou leave thy labor to him? Wilt thou believe him, that he will bring home thy seed, and gather it into thy barn?"

Do you think God created the unicorn simply because it gave His eyes rest when He gazed upon His creation? Can it be God created something simply for beauty? I think that's possible just as I believe God has ways that are higher than our ways, wiser than our ways. Isaiah 55:8-9 writes, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the Lord. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."

Was the unicorn hunted out of existence simply because it was too beautiful for our eyes? Could we not gaze upon it and love it simply because it was pure, beautiful and, perhaps, unattainable? We had to kill it so that no one would ever have it and in it's end was our own, second, loss of innocence.

It's said the unicorn is the symbol of wayward, lost, foundling and stray animals. Thistle Cove Farm has a unicorn flying over the farm. Our human eyes can't see it but the animals know it's here; just ask the rescued animals who have found shelter and sanctuary here, they know it's true. My eyes rest on their beauty and I thank God.

Blessings ~ The Hunt for the Unicorn Tapestries ~ weavers ~ unicorns ~ God's ways and thoughts ~ a heaven filled with beloved companion animals, pets and loved ones ~

My Feet Have Wings

Most days I go like my feet have wings. I wake up when the sun wakes up, usually, although lately I've been sleeping in...a lot. When Dave's mother was alive, I slept lightly because I needed to make sure she got back to bed, safely, when she awoke during the night to use the loo. An overwhelming majority of elderly, break a hip then they fall but Mrs. B. had the bone density of an 18 year old so my concern was she would stumble and fall, then break a bone. I slept lightly.

In addition, Shaddie would wake me during the night. As an older girl, she had to use the bathroom about every four hours and I needed to awaken to make sure she got outside. I slept lightly.

So, for years and years, I've not had an uninterrupted night's sleep at home. Dave will tell anyone who will listen I am the most sensitive person he's ever known to sleep depravitation and missing a meal. In both cases, I tend to hit the wall fast and hard and "cranky" doesn't even begin to define me. I've really enjoyed my l-o-n-g restful nightly sleep lately but know it's coming to a shorter end. As days lengthen and the sun comes up earlier, I'll get up earlier as well. I enjoy being awake during daylight hours and, just as much, enjoy being asleep during dark hours.I found this praying mantis cocoon yesterday, when I was clearing out the flower bed. It was so beautiful and I'd spent a lot of the day writing a magazine article, with photos, and I, desperately, needed a break. Thirty minutes of physical labor soon restored my head to rights.

Grace, left, and Abigail, right, are showering me with LUV. Gracie is the one who always wants to snuggle up, kiss and tell me her thoughts while Abigail is the jealous one who wants to push Grace out of the way. They are both foundlings who have been with us almost twelve years but God alone knows their real ages.
Gracie loves to tell me about her day and with those adoring brown eyes she always looks part human.
We've had extremely high winds as evidenced by our metal sign blowing to and fro. The weather report called for 60 to 75 mph and I think it must have been that bad during the 0 dark thirty hours. A goodly portion of our oak tree was broken off and this is the spring we'll need to plant some new trees in the front yarn. Dave wants some white birch so I think I'll plant seven in a little group in the corner of the yarn. That should look beautiful as time goes by. I want to plant another oak and perhaps another maple while fruit and nut trees will be planted in the garden.
The stables are old, pre-War of Northern Aggression and have a lovely patina. Someone hung up this bit and horseshoe years ago and I've left them because I enjoy the way they look.
You can see in this photo where someone has leaned their left hand against the railing as they used their right hand to open the door. Signs are all around us if we stop, look and think but, unfortunately, most of us are too busy to take the time. Hard to understand, that, when time is all we've got anyway.
When I got to the barn, Thomas was cast...meaning he'd laid down but couldn't get back up without help. He's on a slight incline and was a bit off-balance and all he could do was wave his legs, helplessly, in the air. Zacheous, his steadfast friend, had settled near Thomas' head so Thomas would know he wasn't alone. It took me a while to get Thomas to his feet and hold him steady so he could regain his balance and barn legs. Other than being ancient, he's none the worse for the wear and, eagerly, ate his cracked corn and hay. The water bucket is a bit low so I know they are drinking and that's a good thing as well.

Proverbs 18:24 says, "...there is a friend that stickedth closer than a brother." Zacheous couldn't do much but he did what he could do. Shouldn't this be the case with us? Even when it's nigh impossible for us to do much of anything, we can lend an ear, say a prayer, make food, offer to clean house...there's so much we can do other than say, "call me if you need anything." Love is a verb, isn't it? This is the bookmark I'm sending to Bethel in Australia; it's one-third of my obligation to OWOH 2009 Event. The photo is a bit dark but is still a good representation.

A neighbor stopped by to tell me friend Anne has been placed in a nursing home; she's my oldest friend in Tazewell and older than me by a year. She has Alzheimer's and has reached the point where full time nursing care is required. It's difficult watching someone you love slip into the twilight, knowing there's nothing to be done to restore wholeness, nothing that will break through the dusk to tell her she's still loved, nothing to save the years. In these last years, I've done what I could but now she's been moved and we may never visit together again, the memories will have to suffice.

Ah well, so much we'll never know this side of the veil.

Blessings ~ Anne ~ Nature's Wonders ~ Proverbs ~ OWOH ~ Grace and Abigail ~ A Lovely Day ~

Mary Crockett Bowen Bricker

Mrs. Bricker was known to her contemporaries and family as Mary Crock or, more simply, Crock. To her grandchildren and great grandchildren she was known as Brick Brick, her son and daughter called her Mother and she was my mother in law.

In her day, she did a bit of crocheting but was better known for her ability to teach hard science and math at the high school, college and university levels. During the war years, Mrs. B., along with her sister in law and her daughter's future mother in law comprised the entire math department at Beaver High School in Bluefield, WV.

She earned her undergraduate degre at Queens College, Charlotte, NC in 1934 and in 2004, Dave and I took her and a classmate to their 70th Queens College, now University, reunion! She earned her Masters at West Virginia University and was all but a dissertation away from her PhD when her parents became ill and needed her care.

She won several fellowships including a General Electric science fellowship and taught at Bluefield College, Bluefield State College, West Virginia University, University of Illinois, Emory University in Atlanta, GA and VA Tech.

She was extremely proud to have been chosen one of the very first cheerleaders at Tazewell High School, Tazewell, VA and would tell tales of those early days to all who would listen.

Mrs. B. supported the efforts of Fiber Femmes and, in past years, paid postage to have fifty or sixty boxes of yarn sent to The Children's Home in Siberia, Russia.

She was the last of her immediate family and on 19 November 2008 joined her parents, brothers and sister in death. In June 2008 we celebrated her 95th birthday and all but seven of the fifty or so guests were family members including children, grand and great grands, niece, nephew, cousins and me.
It was one of those rare, beautiful days...absolutely perfect weather and enough of the "old guard" in attendance to warrant a magical knowledge this was the passing of the torch. We all knew we'd never have this opportunity again and took full advantage of the day to build love and memories. We who were there have that day to hold against the dark nights and frosty world that push against love.

Blessings ~ a life well lived ~ birthdays ~ teachers ~ family ~ friends ~ memories ~

VA Bowen's, Gillespie's and WV Hamrick's

We had a lovely Saturday, full of family, deep roots, good food and great fellowship. Dave's Mother is a Bowen by birth and of the Rees Tate Bowen line. Her Grandmother was a Gillespie and married her first cousin, a Bowen, so bears the blood of both old families. The Bowen's came out of Wales where, curiously enough, my paternal Grandfather Bennetts' people originated. As I'm typing this, the thought occurs to me...wonder if Dave's family and my family were on the same boat that left Wales and landed in Fredericksburg, VA in 1654? I'll have to put that on my to-do list for checking.

The ceremony specifically honored the Bowen and Gillespie Patriots who fought for freedom from the tyranny of King George. There were around 100 people, perhaps more, attending the ceremony and came from all over the USA. Heather, from the United Kingdom, was visiting my mother-in-law's cousins' widow, a Bowen, and found it all as interesting, I dare say, as did I if from a vastly difference perspective. We're but a blip in England's long history and upstarts to boot. It takes persons of enormous courage, fortitude and who have little to lose but much to gain to do what those first settler's accomplished.

I'm sure there were murders and killings on all sides...settler's and those who were living here when the settler's arrived, just as I'm sure there were friends and inter-marrying among the white's, blacks and American Natives. It's been said history was, and is, written by the winner's but, even so, there's enough truth left so one can ferret out a story.


The Boy Scouts lead the ceremony with the raising of the US flag while we all said the Pledge of Allegiance.

This post is about honoring our past by living our future in the here and now. It's about watching the Boy Scouts raise and salute the American flag while the rest of us say the Pledge of Allegiance. It's about honoring those men, and women, who left the old country to forge a new one while claiming their place in history.


Mrs. Peggy Marrs leads the group...but for the life of me, I simply cannot remember the correct title of what we were saying. I won't try and muddle through; I'll try and find the program I gave my mother-in-law knowing full well it would, in all probability, vanish into thin air. Peggy is a member of the Maiden Springs DAR, a group I've been invited to join once I complete my gathering of Hamrick information for the application.



Rees Tate Bowen, VII, speaking as the first Rees Tate Bowen, tells the story of coming to this new country, living first in, what is now, Rockbridge and Augusta counties, then traveling to where the homeplace now stands in the Cove, Tazewell County, VA.


This young man is holding the rifle that fired the first shot at the October 7, 1780 Battle of King's Mountain. He hurried away before giving his name but is certainly one of the Bowen, or perhaps, Gillespie line.

I love my country and am unashamed to shed a tear when the flag goes up or by, hand clasped over my heart, whispering the Pledge, singing the anthem or giving thanks for those who have gone before. I fear for America as much as I love America. While it's true we're a great melting pot, it's also true we're becoming diluted. We're becoming less America and more a fraction of a whole; the whole is becoming less and I believe that's not a good thing. We're losing our identity as "Americans" and taking on the nomenclature of Anglo Americans, Irish Americans, African Americans, etc.

Doug Wilder, former and first black Governor of VA and now Mayor of Richmond once said, "I'm not an African-American. I AM AN AMERICAN!" I agree. I am an American and while honoring my Welsh, Irish, English, German and American Native heritage, I remain, first and foremost...AN AMERICAN.

There's a statue at the Charleston, WV state capitol building of Rimfire Hamrick. He stands there as an example of the men, and I believe women, who founded not only West VA but this country. Men who walked the walk more than talking the talk; men of action, pioneers and strangers in a strange land. Men who left their mark on history by going to war to defend this new land, to protect home and family and, by leaving their mark on history, marked the hearts of kith and kin to follow. Rimfire is a distant relative on my Daddy's Mothers' side; she was a Hamrick who married a Bennett and representative of the type of woman that help define the frontier by keeping the hearth flames burning.

It's a proud heritage and culture, that of Appalachia and America. Where we, the Hamrick's, Bennett's, Bowen's and Gillespie's ended up is very similar to where we started. The mountains are soft yet rugged, the people are rugged yet soft and we tend to take care of our own.

So, if I have to be labeled, let it not be as an Anglo American, Irish American, Welsh American, etc. Let it be as an Appalachian American. In other words...an American American.

Blessings ~ family ~ Patriot's ~ Appalachia ~ DAR ~ AMERICA! ~

Travel and heart-break

In Gori, Georgia the flag is viewed from the Stalin Museum


Georgia wants to become an EU and NATO member; Russia doesn't approve.


A rooftop view of Tiblisi, the capital of Georgia.

The first time I ever needed a passport, in 2004, I traveled to the great country of Russia. It was, and remains, an incredible life-changing experience. My horizons were broadened, my view enlarged, my heart expanded and my world, quite simply, turned upside down.

My family traveled a lot when we were growing up. Daddy had a truck, I believe a Chevy, loaded with a truck camper and every summer the five of us, parents and three children, would crowd together and see the USA. Daddy got two weeks vacation from, then VEPCO, now Dominion Resources, the electric company, and we saw an amazing amount of our great land. One of my favorite trips was Out West. We went to the Badlands, Wall Drug Store, Corn Palace, Mt. Rushmore, Yellowstone, Old Faithful and I can't remember what else. I remember a helicopter ride over Mt. Rushmore and huge bears in Yellowstone. We needed a JFK fifty cent piece to take a shower in Yellowstone and, just about the best, standing Directly Over the Top of Old Faithful just waiting for it to spurt. Of course, we'd always move away in order not to be burned by the steam but it was amazing, just standing and looking down into the hole that was Old Faithful. Now days, Old Faithful is roped off and people have to view it from a distance; not quite the same experience but I suppose it helps keep accidents down and the gene pool safe.

Mom prepared delicious meals on the camper stove and she and Daddy taught us how to read a map, how to read the sky, how to travel by both sun and stars. Those family trips prepared me by making me flexible, independent and willing to take risks so when the opportunity came to lecture and teach in Russia, I was more than ready.

Sudhakar Jamkhandi, a professor at Bluefield State College and Director of the Center for International Understanding, CIU, invited me to lecture and teach on Agri-tourism, Rural Tourism Development and Increasing Small Farm Income. Essentially, what I do at Thistle Cove Farm and what I taught at Concord University. Dave traveled with me and that turned into a blessing in disguise as we spent the first week, the two of us, separated from our group. We had a Russian interpreter but, deviating from plan, I lectured and taught alone. It was a great experience and I still maintain contact with some of the dear, wonderful people I met on that trip. I did, and do, love Russia and her people. They opened their hearts to me and I to them; they made me a better person and, hopefully, I helped some of them as well. One day, God willing, I'd love to return and visit with some old friends and make some new friends.

Flash forward to 2007 when Dave and I visited Armenia and Georgia and, again, met many wonderful people who opened their hearts and homes to us. As before, this trip was arranged through the CIU and it was an experience a tour group could never have provided.

All that to say, the business of war between Russia and Georgia is breaking my heart. Dave and I were all over Georgia and in Gori and shared a day and meals with many residents. Now the MSNBC photos of Gori show a city under siege while the countryside is being run over by tanks and soldiers and the country is being cut in half by Russian military. Russian troops are moving toward Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia, where we spent many wonderful and pleasant days and God alone knows what will happen.

We know nothing of the people with whom we shared meals with or spoke of ways to enrich our lives and future. We know nothing of the vineyards we visited or the women who served us a delicious meal to celebrate the vineyard. That evening, while seated in a foyer, waiting for the rest of our group to arrive, I drew a small bottle of hand lotion from my purse. As I poured a small amount into my palm, I looked up and noticed a woman watching me. I motioned to pour some into her hand and she nodded “yes” but her companion was shy and nodded “no”. She smelled the lotion, massaged it into her hands and eagerly smiled her approval. I tightened the bottle cap and put it into her hands, a small gift from one woman to another. Her smile broadened and she kissed me on the cheek as thanks.

What of her, Russia? What of that woman with such a gracious heart who made me feel welcome in her country even though neither of us spoke the other’s language? She is…was?…a mother, Russia. Is she alive or has she been bombed into eternity?

It’s true I know almost nothing of politics but I do know Russia, you’re a big country and Georgia is a small country. Russia, you’re too big to be this small; it’s unbecoming and beneath you to be such a bully. It is incumbent upon the strong to take care of the weak; to feed the hungry, to be a mother to the motherless, to care for those less fortunate…not to cause the hunger or to make orphans. I, and the world, expect more of you, Russia.

Russia, in 2004 you showed me your great heart, your great love of family and friends. Russia…where’s that great heart and love? Show us before my heart finishes breaking.

Blessings ~ God…in a world gone absolutely mad ~

~Anyone then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins." James 4:17

Death in the Midst of Living

My Mother's family is gathered in Gastonia, NC for the funeral of her beloved Sister. Death is always hard, even for those of us who share the belief in life everlasting through Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. Tensions, emotions and, yes, even tempers run higher; words are, sometimes, hastily said and, even more quickly, regretted. Family gathers around to lend support, hugs, tears, laughter. We share our strength, remember good times, fun times but all the while wondering how we're going to get through the next few hours, days, weeks.

For the rest of our lives, it will be a time of firsts. The first Christmas without our Wife, Aunt, Sister, Mother, mother-in-law, friend; the first New Year's, the first Valentine's, the first...

People are holding up well, as well as can be expected, I suppose. Aunt. R. suffered in this life; for the last sixteen years she was on oxygen because she had COPD from working in a sewing factory. Not only smokers and coal miners get COPD. Plain, ordinary women and men who work in tiresome circumstances, earning a living for their families also got, get, COPD. Anyway, she's not suffering now.

So, in this Holy Season, hold near and dear to those you love; remember with fondness and kindness those who have passed. Eat well, drink sensibly, love more today than you did yesterday but less than you will tomorrow. Remember God loves you and hold fast to your faith.