Writing prompt: “What could you do less of?”
Well, overthinking, for one. Reading comments on public posts, for another. Neither one do me a bit of good and I become pretty short tempered and disgusted with humankind (and myself). So maybe I’ll start this next week by limiting myself on Facebook. Although, I have had the timer set for an hour for several months now. That’s not very much. It only takes one comment section to aggravate me, though, so I don’t think a timer is the answer.

I finished The Magnificent Lives of Marjorie Post. My favorite quote that sums up the entire book was buried in the acknowledgements: “She lived through four very different and very passionate love stories, taking on four different last names, only to return finally to the very name that had been hers all along. In my opinion, this is ultimately the story of a woman finding her own indelible strength and identity, and embracing a power and a life force that set her apart. Is this a love story? Yes, it is many different love stories and I believe the most powerful one of all is the love story that Marjorie Merriweather Post ultimately found with herself.” The book irked me a little. Despite all her philanthropic work, and her travels, and the ability to sail through the Great Depression and two world wars, the book concentrated primarily on her husbands. Another book was suggested by the author at the end that I plan to look into because Miss Post seems to be someone to be admired and studied: American Empress. She really was the Cereal Queen, but so much more.

I went out to my aunt’s a little after three, as promised, to work on the closet and her tree. That closet!! Lord help me. But of course she wanted to put it off till we started to pack everything up. I’m usually not involved in that, and she knows it, so I suspect this was her way of trying to get out of it. I’ll out a call in to Kevin if she delays much longer.
Speaking of Kevin, he didn’t call or send any pictures from over the weekend, as he said he would. I didn’t really miss them, but it did wound my feelings slightly. I like seeing pictures of the food, I don’t really care about the people. I was thankful he didn’t want to Facetime. Maybe I hurt his feelings when I said so.

Anyway, I got the tree situated with Uncle Dale critiquing from the mantle. I could just hear him. “Pilgrim, that bow ain’t straight. There’s a hole as big as your head, you need to do something there. I see you eyein’ my pinecones! Don’t you be carryin’m off!”
I miss him so much.
Brenda got his shirts folded up that were in the big closet upstairs. I couldn’t imagine taking them out of the regular closet just to relocate and deal with three years later. But at least she has a plan: she’s got them promised to the church for a mission. She also pulled out empty shoe boxes to throw away. That was as far as she got on the closet clean out.
Sigh. I guess it’s a start. A very pitiful one, but a start. I can’t tolerate all that clutter.
She’d sat down to “take a break” and of course, conversation predictably led to food. She mentioned she’d like to have some hot, greasy Krystals. “Mmmm,” said I, just out of habit.
“Let’s go!” she took my mild agreement as full endorsement.
“I don’t know…” I hedged.
“It’s just six thirty!!!!”
Like that was the problem. “I’ve got that roast to eat,” I reminded her. I knew I’d get roped into an all evening affair, that’s why I didn’t come out at 1:30 as she’d initially suggested. I had already signed on for two episodes of Yellowstone. I was looking at 9:00, as it was. I was spared from making further excuses as Howdy pulled in, returning her car. He took his shoes off, sat down, and crossed his legs so I knew, despite what he said, we were in for a lengthy visit. I got to hear, for the FIRST TIME, about his ’76 Corvette. I was like, “Here all this time I thought you were smart, but now I’m finding out you had a Corvette and sold it??!?!!”
“I had to work on it all the time. I was working for Coke, and I’d drive it Monday through Friday, then spend the weekend working on it.”
I never did learn the source of the issue, something about it had ten of something. I guess most cars only have two and they last a lot longer. I don’t know, all I know is they’re beautiful and I have always loved them. “They’re not like a regular car,” Howdy told me.
“Oh, I know that!”

Brenda went and got her purse to edge him on out the door. You know how it is once you get Krystals on the mind. Plus, Donna had called and said she was ready to go eat, too, so he was fixing to be in the doghouse if we didn’t all get a move on.
We deduced that Strawberry Plains is quicker than Sevierville, so off we went. “Are we going inside or taking it back?” she asked me when we pulled in.
“Lets just eat here so they don’t stink up your car.”
I have not been inside a Krystal in years. It was very bleak. There are no extras whatsoever: no decor of any kind, no self serve drink and ketchup station. It is bare bones.
I couldn’t help but snicker. I wanted to take a picture to commemorate the occasion, but my hair was greasy and I didn’t have on a stitch of makeup. Par for the course, really. There was nobody else there, besides the workers. And the best part, I was wearing my “That’s a terrible idea. What time?” Sweatshirt. I really should have just gone ahead with the selfie.
The workers seemed to get along, which was a surprise. The girl appeared to have a very strong attitude. We claimed our booth, still crumb-and-tiny-onion strewn from previous guests, and looked at each other and laughed.
Krystals. A lasting legacy.

A younger couple came in and chose the seats at the bar area, looking out into the parking lot. A middle aged man came at a quick clip around the front. I wondered if the big windows were so that people could see if we were getting mugged or killed in there. And here I was, without my gun.
I decided he was just a hungry trucker after I heard him order. He’d be alright after he got some grub. I bet working at a Waffle House or a Krystal gives you allllll kinds of life experiences. I wouldn’t make it through the first night of waiting on a bunch of repugnant drunks. And imagine what you’d get right here at the interstate! No thanks. But I need to remember if I ever get tired of the writing prompt suggestions or I hit a wall on what I want to write about. Pull up a stool here and just watch. I guess that’s why Sean Dietrich is always expounding on the Awful Waffle.

We made it back home without gastrointestinal difficulties and got caught up on Yellowstone. That show makes my heart race. And it makes me depressed. I don’t know why I watch it. Nothing good ever happens. And now it’s clearly the end, and it’s not the end I wanted. Imagine that. Taylor Sheridan, you’re the debbil.

Love from Appalachia,
~Amy

Saturdays are for cleaning house. I decided since I cleaned my kitchen cabinets last weekend, today was the day for the bathroom ones. Thankfully there aren’t nearly as many. I really do need to paint them. My house is so dated. But I just know I’ll bite off more than I can chew and get mad at myself for undertaking such a task.

Angela sent me some spring rolls from her pedicurist (yes, I know exactly how weird that sounds) and a scarf she made for Chessie, very sweet. I hung my new wreath on the inside of my door since it was too poufy for the outside side. I’m not opposed; it will last longer this way, plus I get to admire it more.

After I got my cleaning done, my brain evidently decided to reset and I thought it was magically Sunday. 🤦‍♀️ I’m so glad it isn’t!! I called my aunt and made plans to go put up her tree tomorrow, because if I don’t do it, she won’t put it up, and then I’ll feel guilty. But I know she’ll wrap me in for the whole evening, so I have to get mentally prepared for that.

Writing prompt: what positive events have taken place in your life over the past year?
Why is it my mind said, “Well, not as many as there were negative ones”?
It started off decent enough; I was in Bowling Green for the ringing in of the new year, so that was fun. I’m scrolling through my pictures to see what all bright spots there were. I know how it shook out, which is less than ideal, but there have been some good memories. Like when I went to Loco Burro for their glorious buffet one Sunday morning with the Finchums and then we drove around West Knoxville looking at all the snow. Or Valentine’s Day, when Blackhorse was running a special of rainbow trout, creme brulee, and French martinis. It was quite the night, sitting there at my little table, looking out at all the couples who were made very uncomfortable just by my solo presence.
I only went on local trips this year, the only time I was out of state was the two times to see Kevin. Oh, and to run to Georgia with JA to pick up that horse trailer. I guess the furthest away from home I got was Columbia.
I drank a lot and spent a lot of time with my dog and John Alan.
I killed one snake, but I tried to kill two.
I read good books and I read awful ones.
I experienced love, and I experienced heartache, and I brought it all on myself. I have yet to decide if I’d do it differently, looking back. Things happen for a reason. I knew how it was going to go before I ever started. People always get hurt. But people are also overly confident. And that is where catastrophe breeds. At least I’ve been honest with myself. I can still look myself in the eye and I’m not ashamed. I can admit to myself when I’ve been happy, and when I’ve not. And I know when to change things, so I can develop into the person I want to be. I know not to put my key to happiness in anybody else’s pocket. This is why I have not been heartbroken. And I will try my best never to be, again. Heartbreak is when you love fully, and you give your heart completely away, and that person doesn’t appreciate the gift it is and they take it, and over time -or maybe in one fell swoop- they destroy it. And no matter how much tape and glue you use, it’ll never be the same again.
This is why I cannot be broken. I’ve already shattered once.
Heartbreak is when you cannot sleep, you cannot eat, you cannot see a way through. You need someone there holding your hand and helping you, telling you what the world requires of you next. You take showers sitting down because it’s too much effort to stand. Heartbreak is when you cannot read, you cannot watch TV, you cannot listen to music, because you are so raw and emotional and it all leads to the one thing you don’t want to think about. You honestly cannot see a way through, and even if you could, you don’t want to.
THAT is heartbreak. So, no, I was spared heartbreak this year. But only because I knew it was coming.
I spread my Uncle’s ashes, finally, alone at the Clinch, as it should have been.
I sweated my way through summer: on my porch, at the lake, at the fair. I nursed a severely hurt leg and depended on Angela more than I should.
I finally threw out a bunch of memorabilia and got rid of my wedding dresses. I purged an entire closet full of clothes. I let go of so much.
I reconnected with an old college friend.
I cooked, I cried, I laughed, I loved, I worked, I helped, I prayed.
I prayed some more.
And I’m still here, praying. Hoping for a better year. But I know that it will be what I make of it. And I have to keep searching myself for the truth. You can’t let things just happen to you and be satisfied with the outcome. You have to make things happen so you choose your destiny. I’m not going to sit around wishing someone would bring me cookies. No, I have to buy the ingredients and bake them myself. Someone may eventually bring me cookies, but I’m not willing to wait for that happiness when I can create my own joy.
I hope that you already knew this, and I’m the one who was late to the party. I hope hopeless romantics are given some hope in the next year. But as a hopeless romantic such as myself knows, true love doesn’t come around very often. I guess I’m on schedule for 2028. I’ll just be floating along until then.

Love from Appalachia,
~Amy

I’ve mentioned that my friend Emily and I exchange three thankfuls every morning. She has also been in the habit of telling me good morning in a different language every day as well as a little tidbit of information about the country it hails from. It intimidates me to think about traveling to foreign countries because I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to effectively communicate. And I don’t just mean directions to the restroom or ordering supper. Like, what if I get over there and have an attack of appendicitis and I can’t convey my symptoms to the doctor? Yes, I’m aware of the invention of Google translate, but still. Time is of the essence! So she also includes how much of the population speaks English, that way I can add it to my list of potential vacation destinations if it sounds like a nice place to visit. We are finding that our perceptions of other countries are a bit biased. We’ve decided that our geography teachers led us astray. We think it’s because we’re conditioned to believe that the United States is the greatest country on Earth, so why in the world would be want to leave? England is nice if you’re into history and the royals, and Australia could be worthy of a visit if you stick to the coastal regions. Maybe when we were in school all those foreign country’s names ran together and we were told they border each other so I’m sure they all just got lumped together as scary and bad. However, I’ve learned that some of these countries, like Lithuania, is perfectly lovely. But I can’t visit because English isn’t even in the top five languages. Macedonia, near Greece, isn’t always hot. They have four seasons, and like us, their coldest month is January and the hottest is July. But then she hits me with ones like this: “Dobry ranch is Belarusian. Unlike the other hidden gems I’ve been learning about, Belarus is just as bleak as we’ve been taught. When they originally broke away from Russia we were buddies with them but that didn’t last long. The US has accused Belarus for crimes against humanity in recent years. You probably don’t want to vacation there.”
All that to say this morning I get: “Kemey hadirki! That’s the way to say good morning to a female in Eritrea, which borders Sudan and Ethiopia. They speak Tigrinya and not a lot of English but it shouldn’t effect you because after reading about it there’s no way in hell I’d let you go visit Eritrea. Between the wildlife, landmines, and kidnappers it isn’t safe at all. I didn’t come across one thing that made me want to visit.”
It’s nice that she could be my travel guide, if I come into a windfall or something. It also reminded me of that meme that says, “Growing up, I thought quicksand would pose a much larger danger in my day to day life.” Gen-X, y’all feel me? It was on every show, not just Gilligan’s Island!

It is sooooo cold today. My hands got cold this morning, so the rest of me is now cold. I’ve been practically sitting on top of my little space heater. The Smoky Bears Team #100 is headed off to the State playoffs in Chattanooga today, and we’ve been encouraged to line the streets. They’re going to be detouring by the Courthouse at 1:00. I guess to get some best wishes luck from Dolly. I hope they win, but I ain’t braving the cold to wave at a school bus full of them.

I had a hair appointment at 2. I walk in and it’s Christy and Lindsey and the room felt off. I figure they’ve just had a mother daughter dispute and tread carefully. Lindsey was flat ironing her hair and Christy’s was down. They informed me they had business in Knoxville after the last couple of clients. They didn’t invite me along, which was unusual, but I was glad because I needed to go by the grocery store on my way home. Jason got home and came in and flopped into the hair dryer chair.
“I’m glad to see you. I need a really big favor,” I wheedled.
He eyed me levelly.
“My dang air pressure is low in my tires. They do this at every cold snap. Willie used to take care of it for me. Last year I swung by Co-op and Richard did, but he kept filling them even after my car honked at him and it made me nervous. I spent the whole winter wondering if they were gonna blow.”
“As long as they’re even all the way around, they’re fine,” Christy said.
Without the first word, Jason heaved himself from the chair and out the door.
“I hope I didn’t put him in a bad mood. I know that’s the last thing he wants to do after working all day.”
Christy assured me it was fine, they have a portable air compressor that is about the same size as a small tool box. Lindsey piped up that he’d just used it on hers the other day. They set my heart at ease, even more so when he brought it in and showed it to me. I swear, I really don’t know what I’d do without the Finchums. I depend on them so much. So much more than a beauty shop. It really is like Truvy’s ❤️
“Thanks for the hair and air!” I called, heading out.

At Food City, I stumbled upon the Little Debbie Christmas tree donuts. I grabbed a bag, praying they were at least better than those nasty muffins.
Somehow, I managed to spend over $200. When I got home I realized one of my roasts rang up $6 high. The other one was right. How does this happen? And more importantly, what else has been screwed up over the years that I haven’t caught? The only reason I caught this is because it was $18 and I thought, “What in tarnation did I buy that was $18?!?!” A $12 roast, that’s what. So now I get to fool with that first thing Monday. (What? You think I’m going out this weekend? You are sadly mistaken. I took a picture of my receipt alongside the roast and dumped it in a freezer bag. I didn’t plan on carting it back over there, either. Hopefully this would suffice. After I got a couple of bags of bad potatoes, I mentioned it to the produce manager. He said I needn’t transport smelly potatoes back, just tell them. I suppose I have an honest face, because where’s the accountability. Or maybe they figure if you’ll lie about getting rotten potatoes, you need them worse than they do.

Today’s writing prompt was “do you ever see wild animals?”
Well, I’m looking at a fur covered 80# wild child right now….
I guess this is a pertinent question for city dwellers. But surely they still see birds with regularity….and rats.
Glad I’m not a city dweller. I’ll take my groundhogs, deer, coyotes, and snakes over your buildings, smog, and grime any day.

Love from Appalachia,
~Amy

I did not sleep very well at all. Maybe I got too full last night. Sometimes that happens. I felt like it was a very light sleep, and I just didn’t rest. Chester sure did, though. He was piled in next to me, snoring contentedly. Every time I flipped over he huffed. Excuuuuuuse me. I finally gave up and got up at 5:30. I don’t know how long I’d laid there thinking I’d fall back asleep. I don’t know if I’m optimistic or just deranged. Once I got a couple of cups of coffee in me, and felt that my defenses were up and in place, I decided I could face the day. And the internet.
Turns out there was a fire over here off Creswell, so maybe it’s the sirens that kept me up all night. Or maybe that blamed wind. I don’t think I can blame the moon this time.

JA checked in, as is his normal (except it was via text and I was glad). I was in no mood. “I’m here. Mad at the world and I don’t have a reason and I can’t help it.”
He wisely left me alone for several hours.

The more I read about the local brush fire over by the house, the more I was concerned about my cousin. The news reported no loss of life or structures, but the news gets stuff wrong. Plus, if it was that close to him, I knew he’d have the scoop. I called him.
“Are you the firebug?” I asked when he answered.
“Yup, it was up there on the mountain, about where your uncle liked to sit. A pine tree fell over on the powerlines. That wind last night was rough!”
I didn’t know whether to giggle or gasp. “It really was you! I was just calling to give you a hard time! I thought maybe it was from the soybean fields, like your combine caught fire or something, from the location the news gave.”
“Noooo, it was up there on the mountain, it looked a lot worse than it was. If I’da had the water wagon hooked up I could’ve put it out myself. It was just a buncha leaves. Do you know the fire department wouldn’t even put it out? They had to wait on Forestry! Isn’t that stupid?”
“Did they not have a brush truck?”
“They do, but they said they couldn’t go up there. And Forestry just made a firebreak, they blew all those leaves back in to it. I left them with it at about one this morning.”
“Wow!”
“The news reported it was ten acres, but it was really only about six. They blow everything out of proportion.”
“Scare tactics,” I agreed. “Tragedy sells.”
“And it was three or four hundred yards from Chris’. There was no danger.”
“Well, I’m glad everybody’s alright. I guess your momma got excited. That’ll give her something to talk about for awhile.”
Isn’t that funny? I should have known 🤦‍♀️

Sometimes I can’t help but question what the point is of even trying to be the best version of myself? Where has it gotten me? Submitting to a variety of lessons, only to not use any of them. Even my posture sucks. I guess I would have been painfully shy if I hadn’t been put on stage with all eyes on me. I’m still a little bashful in certain situations. I struggled with staying on beat, so guitar lessons were obviously a waste of time and money. I can swim well enough to stay alive, but I learned in college my form and breathing techniques were all wrong. And when is it handy in life to know how to twirl a baton?
And where did good grades get me? I see people who can barely spell in executive positions. I’ve never had to trot out my degree to get a job. But I guess I’ve never really applied for anything prestigious, either. I didn’t get the raises and promotions like I felt I earned at Co-op, but that’s not for my lack of effort. That’s on management.
Being a good wife didn’t work out so hot, either. At least I can say I did my best. Maybe that’s what it’s all about. Not proving anything to anybody, but being able to look at yourself and say, “You know what, I tried. I did my best to be a good student. I tried my hardest at lessons, and I loved the best I could. I may not have done as well as everybody thought I should have, but I really did apply myself. I remember it being difficult and struggling and help not coming from where it should. But I gave it my all.”
So there. That’s not so bad, is it? Sometimes the fruits of our labor go unseen but we carry them in our heart.
Really, right now, I feel like someone should award me for not punching Jake directly in the throat. I’m doing my best!! I feel like if I get up -for any reason- it’s gonna happen, though.
These are the thoughts I have when I get inadequate sleep.

I’m gonna do better.
Tomorrow. Today is shot.

Love from Appalachia,
~Amy

I dreamt I went up here to the Sistine Chapel attraction in Pigeon Forge. It was in a hotel, and my favorite part was how they had transformed the pool area into a Greek oasis, with all these jungle type trees and foliage. I tried to spend all my time in there. I was with somebody, maybe Kevin, I don’t remember. And then, for some reason, they brought in three longhorn bulls for display and were trading out the tired bulls they’d been using. I don’t know what that was about. Well, I do know. Emily asked me if I was planning on going the other day, and I hadn’t heard about it and looked it up. It looks fairly interesting, and something that Rhonda would like to take in. Then last night coming home I noticed a billboard on 66 advertising it. So there ya go.

All kinds of great things happening today. First and foremost, Jake Right now is in Knoxville. A very pleasant day ahead, indeed. Also, Scott fixed the driveway yesterday afternoon while I was out on the Christmas tree excursion, so that’s a bonus for sure. It was about a crater out there and I know Maggie appreciates his efforts. I texted Chas as I was headed out this morning and she said she was gonna have me over and casually suggest that her pantry would look a lot better with the door installed and the trim work around the house needs completing. 🤣🤣🤣 She said he never acts that quick when she requests stuff. I guess he figured he better keep my bread buttered on account of the free range chickens and dogs over the years. It could be better, but I’m thrilled he worked on it some. I hate I had to ask, but I’m in and out about a tenth as much as they are, so I felt like it should be up to the one and only man on the place to take care of it.

JA’s doctor visit was lengthy. The doctor said the Urgent Care didn’t prescribe enough antibiotics either time and that’s why his cough is lingering. He said he’s going to stop going to them because they also misdiagnosed his rash, it is a classic eczema, not a yeast infection, and that’s why it hasn’t went away, either. I asked him since they didn’t get that right, did they do a pregnancy test just to make double sure? Obviously, he appreciated my humor. They did a thorough work up on him today. Since he takes omeprazole for reflux, but no multivitamin, his magnesium is probably low. The main problem, she thinks, is the acid reflux. She said no whiskey or beer or spicy foods for two weeks, to just eat bland stuff. And he’s ok with that. We’ll see. But yes, it was that nerve that got constricted with the coughing. He’s not to drive tomorrow until they get the bloodwork back and can get to the bottom of things for sure.

The library Christmas party. We pray. They read to me. We eat. It’s not very exciting, but I like it. And everybody knows that food prepared by someone else is always better. Especially when you don’t have to pay for it. Icing on the cake is we didn’t have to do cleanup duty, either. Bliss.

But tonight’s Christmas party was a true snooze. Fish text me before I got there and told me there were two screaming kids with our group.
My reply was “what do you want from the bar?”
So I stopped there on my way through. Gina was trying to get a glass of wine. There were no bartenders in evidence.

That was supposed to be a cosmo, which are always, without fail, pink. So I’m not sure what she did, but it was ok. She was older and very unsure of everything. I only had the one. Rhonda text me to see if I was still coming. Not sure why she didn’t ask Fish, who was exactly one person down from her. I didn’t talk to her at all all night, she was totally wrapped up in Gina, who was seated behind her and Fish.
I stepped through the doorway and paused, martini glass aloft, and slid my gaze down the long table, looking for Fish.
Rhonda was like, “You can sit by Tim.”
I tried not to narrow my eyes (probably unsuccessful) and said, “Thanks, that was my intention.” But it made me want to sit elsewhere. Anywhere but where she tried to direct me.
They put us all at one long table. It was a smaller crowd this year. I recognized maybe half and could put names on four.

Pucketts is weird, they don’t really have servers. They have a QR Code on the table for the menu and to order, and you get your own drinks. As in the regular diners too, not just us. And as in, Coke products, not liquor. So I won’t be back because I’m sure they still want tips. It’s bs. The food was buffet style for us. There was salad, green beans, baked beans, mac & cheese (nope), rolls, meatloaf (did not try), chicken, pulled pork, cobbler, and banana puddin. The guy clearing plates and giving us direction said there was cherry cobbler. Fish got back with his plate and I pointed at it and said, “that ain’t no cherry cobbler. That’s blackberry.” It was too dark and they weren’t smooth like cherries.
He took a bite and argued with me. I shrugged. About the time I got back with my second plate (only another small piece of chicken, green beans, and the cobbler, before you go judgmental) he was working his way through it and saying maybe it WAS blackberry, because there were lots of little seeds. Mmmhmm.
I was like, “I can spot blackberry cobbler at thirty paces”.

We didn’t hear a Christmas story this year, we got a poem about a hairdryer, which was actually about a mother’s love. I guess all the mothers in attendance enjoyed it. I was eager to make my departure. And so I did. I hope next year’s is better. I kinda got the feeling everybody wanted to be somewhere else. And going by how few of us there were, everybody was 🙃 I like that the ones who came made the effort. It strengthens the group to be around one another away from work, in my opinion. It makes you remember they’re people with personalities and families, not just someone who steals your pens. I still appreciate a Christmas party, and being included. I don’t think I would have welcomed the board at Co-op attending our employee one. But what they don’t know is I totally get it. And I’m still a little awed to be in the presence of so many librarians at once. ❤️

Love from Appalachia,
~Amy

I feel like this should be all about guns. But instead it’s gonna be all about Christmas.

I really gotta get started on my shopping. Since Lisa isn’t in my life anymore, I don’t have to stress on not having a good enough gift. She should have just always taken advantage of my organizational and cleaning skills and had me come down the week before Christmas to get her house (and life) in order in years past. And no husband to buy for, and I don’t buy for JA, so I’m good there. But that still leaves my aunt, my cousin, Angela, and I always get Susan and Cynthia a little something. I’ll see them next week at the holiday meeting, so I need to be getting on that. I would be hunting Em something on Amazon so it will ship directly to her (by the time I posted this, it had arrived!) Fish brought me a bag of books and cookies last year, so I should really look for him something, too. Jake shouldn’t be expecting anything, but knowing him, he probably will. And I need to hunt some stuff for a better topper for my tree at home. That dilapidated bow is downright pathetic. Additionally, I’d like to have a new top or two for parties. Something red and sparkly, to match my personality 😘😁

You remember the horror that was TJ Maxx the other day, so I decided to go early today and hopefully beat the rush. I haven’t been able to get that wreath out of my head, either, so I’ve made my mind up I’m gonna get it if they still have one. It’s just too beautiful to let slip by. Lo and behold, they had two left!! Praise be. The crowd was manageable, and I even found me some perfume. Why have I not been taking more advantage of this place? I’ve been giving full price for cosmetics and everything else all these years, Of course I had to peruse the dog toys and naturally I couldn’t help but find Chess a few more, even though I swore after last year I wouldn’t go overboard again. He gets distracted and tired of opening. It’s hard to keep him on task. But there was this bat I just couldn’t hardly do without. Maybe I will save it for Halloween or the first time I see a bat next spring when I’m sitting on the porch. You know, commemorate the occasion. I found some socks that looked like Angela, and Aunt Brenda some, too. So, if you’re keeping track, I have bought myself two gifts, Chester three, one small thing each for Aunt Brenda & Angela, and zero for Chelsey, Fish, Susan, and Cynthia. Kay and I don’t exchange gifts, we pay the other one’s tabs once in our birthday month. But I was in line and saw these adorable slippers that have martini glasses on them and knew they would be perfect for her. I like running up on stuff like that. If I had any sense, I would buy all year long as I see stuff instead of stressing myself out in the final hours.
Since I didn’t find anything dazzling to wear for my parties, and I was right at Belk, I thought I should pop in there. I found one top I dearly loved, red and sequined with fun batwing sleeves. It was $70!!!! I calculated discounts and coupons and got it down to $50. My budget was $30. Well, my budget is zero, but I was willing to give $30. I got on Amazon before I left and found a pretty one in my price range and ordered it, after staring wistfully at some shoes that I desperately wanted. Can you blame me? They’re FABULOUS.

They were also $120. Soooo I’ll be waiting awhile on those.

While I was on that end of the world, I ran in Dollar Tree for those little Christmas tree shaped plastic containers and retaining hope I might find some floral for my tree. Nada on both counts. I wasn’t surprised. On to Nagano. I was ahead of schedule, and honestly not all that hungry, but I didn’t want to come back out later. I was still able to eat it all. Either the portions are getting smaller or I’m eating more. We’re gonna go with smaller portions.

Got back to the office and discovered I’d been running around with a wad of hair clinging to my shirt. Lovely. 🙃

I decided to help JA out with a tree. He’s such a Scrooge. But I remember he always liked it after Misty and I got the place decorated. He can piss and moan all he wants to, I know he likes the attention. On my way out there, I went by that store on 66 that has been all the rage for tightwads like me. Yesterday the handymen were telling me they’ve got 5 gallons of laundry detergent for $25. That’s a steal!!! Tide or Gain, your choice. I was also hoping to find some pretty floral crap to use as a tree topper. They used to have tons when it was the Christmas place, but I haven’t been in there in years and years. I walked in and was immediately accosted by the sheer volume of stuff. It put me in the mind of Hammers; lots of one thing, but not the size you need. And no luck on the floral, either. That stuff was so old it was beginning to deteriorate. Like, literally, the boxes it had never been unpacked from were rotting, the plastic was yellowed and brittle, and the silk looked faded and dusty. I was poking around a swag of magnolias when the lights went out. I kind of squeaked and began digging for my phone for the flashlight, “Do you need me to turn them back on?” A voice called.
“Oh, no, that’s alright, I’ve got a flashlight.” I noticed she didn’t say sorry. I’d heard her talking to some other shoppers a few minutes ago, but I was down a side aisle. I didn’t think she’d seen me, but clearly she had. And instead of informing me the store was closing, she just shut the lights down. I wasn’t aware we were in Georgia.
And I still had three minutes, according to the clock on my phone.
Hmph. I didn’t want any of your junk, anyway.
I made my way back out, noticing she turned the lights back on and left them on. Hateful. I used to pull that trick at Corning, but I never shut ALL the lights off. I feel like that’s a hazard.

At any rate, I arrived at John Alan’s, gave him the hug that Emily provided specific directions on how to execute, and so began the Quest for a Christmas Tree. Our first stop was Big Lots, just because he volunteered. I knew they wouldn’t have the one we sought. This is what I had in mind:

I figured that was the best I could hope for for a cowboy. It didn’t take up much room, there would be no fluffing to speak of, and it wouldn’t look right with a bunch of ornaments. After I showed him a picture of it, he was on board, too. Quick run through Lowes (zilch, but he did find a way to hit on a cashier- he must’ve already forgot about the two at Big Lots he smiled and waved at), and then the dreaded Walmart. No skinny trees to be found. He refused to buy balls or a star until we have the tree. I have explained that doesn’t matter. But there’s no reasoning with him. However, I did convince him to just stop at Papa Johns instead of wasting his money on DoorDash when we are LITERALLY RIGHT HERE. He placed the order inside and we went next door to the liquor store for provisions. That place is DANGEROUS. You come out on like a dock and there is not a handrail in sight, just three steep concrete steps. I mean, lets think about the clientele. I feel like this is a lawsuit ready to happen. JA says you really gotta want it to go in there.
I was honestly surprised to find my wine. It looked like a Mad Dogg 20/20 kind of joint, if you catch my drift. I guess they can’t all be upscale.

So, outfitted with two bottles of bourbon, a bottle of Meiomi, two pizzas, cheesesticks, but treeless, we make our way back home. JA thought he might be able to watch the serial killer movie since it was about a serial killer and not poltergeists.
But then he called Robert to join us and of course any hope of watching anything went out the window. We gotta talk about all the other stuff we’ve watched. But I’m not complaining. He brought me banana bread muffins with white chocolate, straight outta the oven. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d just made a loaf myself. I just crammed one in my piehole and told him how very delicious it was (and that’s no joke, it was fluffier than mine).
So even though, sadly, our crusade for the perfect cowboy tree was unproductive, it was a good night. For me, anyway. I learned that after Robert and I left, JA went to his sister’s to see his first great-nephew and took a coughing fit and passed out!! Just hit the floor like a ton of bricks. He doesn’t remember it, said last thought he had was going to get his coat and he woke up to Taylor crying and everybody leaned over him. The general consensus is he had a Vagaled nerve incident. We hope that’s all it is. He’s always been dramatic 🤣

Love from Appalachia,
~Amy

Obsession.

It ain’t healthy. You can drive yourself crazy. The mind is so incredibly powerful, and self destructive. I will always claim the key is staying busy, but it’s also vital to protect your mind from negativity. Limit your exposure to harmful media, people, and situations to maintain a healthy mental space. I think a good walk outside can work wonders for clearing your head. Some people like to take a liberating drive, but I live in Sevier County, Tennessee, which is a tourist mecca and a den of terrible drivers from near and far. So a walk is a much safer option. I have certainly pounded the pavement around the office many times in the six and a half years I’ve worked here. And I’m better for it. I even walked it barefoot once. It’s a sure way to beat the blues. The madder you are, the harder you can stomp. And, best of all, it gives you new things to look at. Sometimes, when I’m feeling sorry for myself or thinking this is the lowest I can go, I’ll pass Jason zipping along in his wheelchair, calling out friendly greetings to all around. And I think, “Amy, you are so spoiled. And so ignorant.”
Sam said when one of his sons was in the NICU with encephalitis, he’d be sitting there, despondent, wondering if he would pull through, but you’d look around and there would be parents making decisions, crying, heartbroken, who have already lost their child. Or people getting updates that weren’t favorable. “You don’t have to look far to find people worse off than you,” he would always say.
We all have our problems. Some are on display, some are tucked away deep. But I guarantee you if your problems were thrown in a pile with everybody else’s, you’d jerk yours back PDQ. No marriage is perfect, nobody’s house is that picturesque, nobody’s kids are doing as great as they let on. If they love their job, they have relationships in the gutter, if their husband hung the moon, he’s probably secretly a control freak. If they’ve got gobs of money, he probably shows no affection. If they’re always on vacation, or shopping, or drinking, what are they running from?
If they’ve got a dog, well, they’ve got something. 🥰
But obsessing over someone else’s life that you perceive as perfect, or dissecting their every post and picture isn’t going to solve your problems. It is also a waste of time trying to read into their social media posts. You can see whatever you want to see, but it probably has NOTHING to do with you. You’re only making yourself crazy. Get it together. Start with your junk drawer in the kitchen, that always makes me feel better to throw out dry-rotted rubber bands and dried up ink pens.

And that’s just watching the people you know. I’m speaking from experience here. A girl I used to know looked like she had the perfect life: friends, money, a beautiful home, she didn’t work….but I knew the truth behind the Instagram. A drinking problem, kid flunking school, a volatile relationship with her husband. Another girl with all the Louis Vuitton and Chanel and big fancy vacations is full to the brim of family problems, too. It’s the “influencers” who influence us to think nothing is ever good enough. It’s the celebrities who act and sing as if they haven’t got a care in the world. You can’t compete, and why do you want to? Life is messy enough without comparing your dumpster fire to someone else’s.

And you know I get humbled on the regular, so I don’t bother scrutinizing those perfect farmhouse kitchens and manicured flowerbeds. Here’s your Amy Incident for today: As you can imagine I was dragging a little bit, just from being spoiled about being at home in pajamas and no shoes or makeup for four days. Well, three and a half. I had made my coffee last night and THOUGHT I hit the button for it to come on at 6, but obviously not, because I was not awakened by the glorious smell of Columbian beans. Anyway, started that and came awake gradually. I’d showered last night, so I just had to wash my face and put on my makeup and fix my hair. I took my coffee to the vanity so I could sip as I got ready. I was taking my medicines out of the cabinet when a bottle fell directly into my coffee mug. It was my sugar pill. I quickly lifted it out, and surprisingly, several pills remained inside the bottle because the little cylinder for freshness must have plugged up the hole. But it fell out into the coffee when I retrieved the bottle, so IDK how many fell into the coffee. I drank it anyway. But the time I got to the bottom there was definitely a residue and it tasted weird, so obviously I didn’t take any additional pills. I will be urinating like a stray dog marking his territory today, no doubt.

Which brings me to prompt for today: are you more of a night or morning person?
I prefer mornings, before anyone has an opportunity to aggravate me. At night I have a hard time winding down. Plus I’m left with all the ways I came up short, all the things I failed to do. Mornings are a fresh start. I can make a list and set to checking things off with a great sense of accomplishment. I can make a conscious effort not to choose violence. I start every day the same: water, bathroom, coffee, Wordle, Connections, and my three thankfuls to Emily. I have had those days where my thankfuls were “I’m glad I made it to the bathroom unassisted” {harkening back to my leg injury days of summer}, “thankful for technology to stay in communication with friends I can’t see regularly”, “thankful for hot water”. You know, normal things that we take for granted. Today, among other things, I was thankful for warm clothes and boots. And a CHOICE. It’s not like I only have one coat, and one sweater, and one pair of shoes. But there are plenty of people in this world, heck, in this county, who don’t even have that. So I’m blessed.
You’d be surprised how having positive thoughts early in the morning can alter your mindset.
Also, hearing “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake will lift your spirits, too.
Talking to John Alan about Christmas trees decidedly will NOT.

I drug my tree for the office out, along with all associated decor. It’s shedding like a Husky dog. I don’t know how many years it has left. I had a pile to sweep up just after I got the lights twined around it. But it’s been a good one; I can’t complain. The $14.99 price tag from KMart is still stuck to the box. 😳I turned up my Spotify Christmas playlist and went to untangling lights and assembling it, one molting twig at a time. Once I got it together and lit, I was definitely ready for a break. Wings? Yes, a brilliant idea. The guy who was working at Wingstop last time (the who gave me the free brownie) was in there again today, and we got to talking, and lo and behold I know him and didn’t know it. He’s the son of my friend Cyndie!! I was like, “Wait, I thought you lived….off from here??” (code for incarcerated).
He knew I knew then. And all the “sweethearts” got dropped 🤣🤣 And there was no free brownie today. Oh well.

Back to work, back to the tree. Kevin called midday and I was as honest with him as I could be. Bottom line: I don’t want to come. Reasons being A, B, C. I feel like I need to submit a report, complete with footers and cross referenced. I’ve been through this with him half a dozen times now.
I’d no more than got off the phone with him when Dave called, then the handymen showed up. I’d figured they’d forgot about us, or got covered up with a true emergency. I was never gonna get the tree decorated.
But I did. It looks a little more slapdash than usual, but I thought I needed to get it knocked out before some other chaotic incident occurred. And we did have a producer come by in the midst of toilet swapping, but he appeared unfazed. He just thought we were a happenin’ joint.
Jake was all about his new “throne”. He couldn’t wait to get in there. I’m telling you, that boy is a different breed of disgusting.

I got home and decided to make banana bread from my freckly bananas. I’d soaked my raisins in the rum last night and they’d plumped up quite a bit. Made me miss my Uncle Dale, he always wanted the raisin rum. It turned out very nice, and didn’t fall. When I switched my overhead stove light on to snap a pic, the light blew. So here I went with that. I couldn’t get the latch to flex so I ended up manhandling it out of there and of course the little lip thing broke. So now it’s taped and no one will ever know, besides me and you. And all that led me to cleaning the filter things for the blower. They were yellowed and greasy. I should have noticed them when I cleaned the cabinets.

Sevierville and everywhere else was getting snow, and it was sticking, but it didn’t do a blasted thing here. Disappointing. If it’s gonna be this cold, it needs to do something!

Between the banana bread, snow (even if it was everywhere but at home), and my trees being all bedecked, it’s beginning to feel like Christmas for sure. Maybe if I keep putting on a brave face, it’ll feel like it in my heart eventually.

Love from Appalachia,
~Amy

December 1st. The first Sunday of Advent. I don’t have an Advent calendar, or even a wreath with candles. I don’t know that they’re all that popular anymore. Even the calendar seemed to have fallen out of favor until recent years. 80’s Christmas was all about gaudy bulb lights, tinsel and tinsel garland, and those plastic bubbly looking Santas. And Jell-o molds. Sean Dietrich’s daily column was lamenting the ignorance of the population on Advent candles. Welll… guilty here, too.
I do observe the reason for the season, though. I have a nativity, front and center of the living room window. I never was a Santa fan. Even to this day, I prefer snowmen, reindeer, and penguins. I’m ok with gingerbread men. Nary a Santa or elf to be found here. My candles are red and crème.

Anyway. To each their own.

You will never believe what I got into. I had a variety of less taxing things I could have done today: go turn out cows at JA’s, go help Aunt Bren with her closet and decor, lay on the couch and read and bask in all the things I accomplished on this long weekend. Did I do any of those things? Nooooo.
I took it upon myself to clean my cabinets. “But Amy, you just cleaned your cabinets!” Well, sort of. But no, not clean out. Clean the fronts. I don’t want talk about how long its been since I commenced in this particular endeavor, but I knew they were needing it. The ones over the stove were looking particularly gummy.
But I have better things to do with my time! Or that’s what I tell myself. Things like playing with my dog (he won’t be here forever), reading (I won’t be here forever, and I’m not sure eternity has books), and drinking wine with Kay (neither one of us will be here forever!).
But today was cabinet cleaning day. I’ve procrastinated long enough.
I was sorta finished by 12:30. I say sorta because I also took some of the copper knobs off, thinking a good soak in baking soda and vinegar would cause the grossness to slide right off.
Well, not really. And I didn’t have it in me to scrub anymore. I felt like my sugar was getting low since I got too involved to eat breakfast. I had been thinking about fajitas for a few days, so I got them all fixed up. My chili powder was old, so I figured less potent, and I doubled up from the recipe. Oopsie. My eyelids are sweating and my nose is running.

The writing prompt from WordPress today is “what are your feelings about eating meat?” 🤣🤣🤣🤣

My feelings are love and hunger. Not sure what they’re looking for here. I try not to think about veal on the rare occasions that I consume it, and the only time I eat lamb is at the fair in the gyros. I wonder….what’s the age of sheep when they go to slaughter? Are they truly lambs? They might could use better marketing. (Ha, marketing). Anyway, any other time I’ve had it, it comes with a strong smell and it just puts me off. It’s pretty gamey. I love deer, but I sure don’t care to eat one. I don’t particularly care for seeing the bull wagons full of hogs headed to Swaggerty’s…or would that be a hog wagon? I had to call JA for a consultation. Naturally he laughed at me. It’s just called a pot. So a pot truck. This is getting confusing.

And of course I have a soft spot for cows, but like I always say, if I got hungry enough, I’d eat you. Vegetarian, I am not. I mean, I like vegetables very much. Just not cauliflower. And I’m not wild about asparagus or broccolini. Or hominy. But everything else is tasty. But it ain’t the star of the show, you know.

So, now that the house smells of oranges and I can’t think of anything else that’s bothering me enough to clean, I believe I’ll call it a day.

Love from Appalachia,

~Amy

My glittering, twinkling home is all adorned with the makings of a very merry Christmas, at last. What a relief to have this over and done with. I reckon everybody else feels the same way about the Georgia game last night. It went into 8 overtimes!!! I don’t have anybody close to me anymore that’s really into football, so I was spared staying up past midnight. The Smoky Bears are also headed to State, so Sevierville alumni are over the moon. I was thinking I haven’t even bothered keeping up with Eagle football since I graduated. I think I went to part of one homecoming game just to see some old friends cheer. But I just don’t have the school spirit I see ingrained in other people my age. I don’t think I’d give two hoots if Seymour went to State. But good for the people who are excited about the Bears. And, fun fact: this is the 100th year of the Bears. Team 75 also went to State and won, so it’s pretty cool the numbers are falling like that. I’ll be surprised if they don’t take the title, with all the fandom surrounding it.

Anyway, the tree. Good grief. After I got all the decorations on I realized I really should have made more effort with the lights, but that would have entailed going to the store and buying some, and lets get real. I ain’t going ANYWHERE this weekend. I thought I might go to John Alan’s tomorrow, but I b’lieve I’m gonna lay right here and be a slug. I need to help Aunt Bren get all her stuff up and out, plus deal with her big closet, so I may end up working again tomorrow. Such is life. At least I enjoy it. And the overall effect is nice once it’s complete. I don’t have the wherewithal to put up the mermaid tree this year. And so that means I won’t bother with Mardi Gras, either. But maybe that just means I’ll have more room in the dining room than usual and I need to host my own little shindig. I sure did have fun being crafty with some friends year before last. Even if we did make a colossal mess!!

Love from Appalachia,
~Amy

Black Friday.

Nah. Glitter Friday, yes. Leftovers Friday, also yes. Don’t get out of pajamas all day? You betcha.

It was the changing of the decorations from fall to Christmas. I love my fall stuff best, probably because it isn’t so involved…and it’s understated. Christmas is an undertaking. And I feel like I end up cleaning house from top to bottom twice before it’s done. But it’s still better than getting in all that mess out there in the world.

I got a slow start. But it doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m answering to anybody. I had all the time in the world….or three days, anyway.

I made the executive decision to only put up the one big tree this year at home. After all, I put up the one at work and Aunt Bren’s, too. And if I can talk JA into not being a Scrooge, I’ll be head of the decor committee there, as well. I’d miss my mermaids, but not enough to drag it all upstairs and put it up. (Although the Mardi Gras tree is tempting….).

Only about half my lights worked. This is so infuriating. Isn’t it bad enough I have to settle for a fake tree? My lights should just WORK. I don’t have a light tester, nor do I have the patience to fiddle with checking each individual bulb if I did. But I dutifully placed each strand back in their Dollar General or Food City bag to be contended with at a later date, and set them in the closet with the non-working strands from last year that I haven’t got around to fixing. The closet may get renamed Dead Lights Closet. I was thinking about calling it The Closet of Clothes That No Longer Fit But Were Too Expensive To Throw Away. Actually, that’s not true. There’s only one dress in there that doesn’t fit.

And still has the tags on it. It makes me sick. I wish somebody would buy it.

Anyway. Lights. So I had prepared for this eventual scenario last year, because I had two unopened boxes in my stash. I think I got them on clearance last New Years at the Meijers in Bowling Green. Whatever, I was thankful to have them. And so it was probably a good thing I didn’t have a real tree, because real trees eat lights and you end up needing double what a fake tree has. And why was I putting lights on my fake tree? Why isn’t it prelit? Well, it used to be. And every year a new section would go out. So one year, instead of trying to find the problem fuse or bulb or wire, I just cut them all off in desperation. That was a job in itself, but I’ve never regretted it. I’m due for a new tree but I’m gonna wait till the end of the season and get one at deep discount.

I’ve been saying this for a good three years now.

So I get lights on and the tree fluffed and decide not to start decorating it and instead get everything put out around the house. That’s way less stressful. And, smart me, put away the heaviest stuff in the trunk in the library last year so I don’t have to heave the cumbersome storage tote upstairs. Last year I about herniated a disk and popped a hemorrhoid.

It’s tricky remembering where everything goes. I shouldn’t have made so much fun of Kevin, referring to his pictures. I don’t mind switching things up but sometimes I think, “that doesn’t look quite right….” Oh well. It’s just me, and I don’t care.

I am so glad to be off today. I remember my first years of working when I had to go in and fight traffic just to get a parking spot . I worked at the Corning store at Red Roof Mall, then over at Belz Mall, and eventually at Five Oaks. It was always atrocious and people were so hateful. I remember no sale was ever good enough. They wanted you to pay them to take it, seemed like. Co-op wasn’t so bad, but it also wasn’t so good 🤣🤣 it’s just a drag to have to get up and go when you’d rather be home and cozy and putting your tree up and fighting with lights 🥰

Maybe I’ll put up one of those book trees tomorrow…

Maybe I’ll eat cookies and question life choices, the decision is all mine!

Hope y’all got the deals of your dreams and nobody cried.

Love from Appalachia,

~Amy