It’s been awhile since I’ve written one of these.
Find joy where you can.
I like when the sun shines on snow and makes it sparkle.
I like Christmas decorations, except Santa.
I like Johnny Depp’s movies. I’d like an opportunity to find out if I’d like him in person.
I like reading real books, except when it’s dark- then I like my Kindle.
I like trips. Short ones, long ones, on a plane or in a car. To the city, to the sea.
I like trees and I will cry if deprived of them for an extended period. I like magnolias and live oaks best of all.
I like dogs with spots.
I like drinking cold beer on warm nights outside.
I like seeing 4-wheel drives that look like they’re actually taken off-road.
I like corny jokes.
I like being near water.
I like all the items on the Chickalay menu. Except that kale stuff. That should go without saying. And the macaroni, which I have not tried.
I like watching groundhogs.
I like driving when there’s not much traffic and the road spreads out before me. I like going 100.
I like flowers, but not the common ones. Keep your roses and daisies and babies breath. And your carnations, too. Bring me daffodils and dahlias and foxglove and lilies.
I like people that tell the truth.
I like my red hair.
I like singing, even though I suck at it.
I like dancing in the morning.
I like a lot of sugar in my coffee.
I like fences and old mailboxes.
I like to wear navy.
I like boots and high heels and sticky nights at the rodeo.
I like helicopters and trains and carousels.
I like looking at people and guessing their story. Their occupation, the relationship of the people they’re with.
I like eating big steaks and complaining that I ate too much afterwards.
I like cupcakes, but not at weddings.
I like key lime pie and creme brulee.
I like mozzarella cheese, basil, and tomatoes for a snack.
But I also like squirt cheese and chicken crackers.
I like feeling fancy on a average day.
I like forgotten notes inside books.
I like ludicrous objects found along the shore.
I like it when people say ridiculous things on a whim, when they don’t take themselves so seriously.
I like Etsy.
I like chocolate in non-conformist shapes.
I like I Love Lucy.
I like old country songs, old southern houses, and old men waiting for their wives.
I like some facial hair on a man, and eyes that sparkle, and a keen sense of humor. I like when they wear boots to make their living. I especially like it when they can operate heavy machinery.
I like not having to make a decision on dinner.
I like rain one day at a time.
I like when my copy machine works and I don’t have to cuss it.
I like to see kids playing outside.
I like seeing people talking to each other over dinner, not on their phones.
I like spending time with people who make me forget I have a phone.
I like to see people join hands and pray before a meal, especially in public.
I like to see people hold hands.
I like our flag. I think it’s the most beautiful of all.
I like .5 lead pencils.
I like watching cows. I also like eating them, as described above.
I like cheeseburgers a lot.
I like the smell of charcoal and cinnamon bread at Dollywood and the smell of the ocean when you first get there and open your car door for the first time in hours and it’s kind of repulsive but then you realize how much you’ve missed it.
I like blackberry cobbler, and that makes me miss my neighbor, Mrs. Conner.
I like watching birds hunting worms or just sitting there, singing. Why do they sing?
I like Kacey Musgraves and Margo Price and Brandi Carlilie and Sturgill Simpson. I think they’ve got nothing to hide and they’re not singing to impress anybody. They are birds.
I like lizards, but I like salamanders better.
I like seeing people hope for something that I already know will come true.
I like being downtown. I like mailmen that walk.
I like people that still wear “old school” watches.
I like baskets of apples.
I like it when we know the same people.
I like to talk about what you like.
Love from Appalachia,
~Amy
I’ve been having that anxious, at ends, nothing-is-quite-right feeling for some time now. When in truth, everything is better than it has been for awhile.
But my brain never has paid much attention to black and white facts.
I had been blaming my coffee; I’ve taken it back up in earnest with the temperature recently plummeting. And I’m glad of it, make no mistake. but then I got to thinking. I haven’t written anything in quite some time. So I decided to write.
But it’s a mine field. Nothing feels like a safe topic. Do I pour my guts out and make myself cry? That would be stupid. Do I slash someone else’s guts out and hope I make them cry? That’s not very nice.
So I’m just gonna start, innocuously enough, with fog.
Fog is appropriate for these -ber months. I prefer it only in October, though, when it’s setting you up for the spooky holiday at the end of the month. And it just occurred to me–wouldn’t it be nice if ALL holidays fell on the last day of the month? That way, you’ve got the enitre month to prepare and celebrate early, if you wish. You don’t have to keep up with if it’s the first Monday of the month, or the third Thursday, or anything else. It’s the LAST DAY OF THE MONTH. And that way, if you’re partial to say, 4th of July, you can celebrate it all month without it being rooted out by Columbus Day or something. I, myself, like St. Patrick’s Day rather well, and feel that it is overshadowed and frowned upon by the Valentine’s Revelers. (Of course, that’s not true at all, but I’m not ready to engage in debate on Christmas decorations in homes before Thanksgiving. I love decorating for Christmas, and it IS a lot of work for only a month, but I don’t start early anymore because I love my fall decorations almost as much).
But back to the fog. I read Sean Dietrich’s column religiously, and I often think of him when I’m writing. Or when I’m thinking about writing, I should say. Because I haven’t been writing. See, Sean is pretty good. He seems to keep it on the surface for the most part, but there’s quite a bit of emotion in his posts. You just have to be open to it. He’s not going to go into a big flowery description of the love he feels for his wife, or baseball, or Alabama…but he will tell you how her cornbread is the best he’s ever had, and he can spout off statistics for a number of Major League teams and their roster for any given year, and how big the mosquitoes are in his backyard buzzing around Thelma Lou’s head. Thelma Lou is his beloved bloodhound, by the way, not his wife. Sure, Sean is slightly repetitive, and mildly boring to some, but I like him. But I also sympathize with his readers that have written him to say that perhaps he should come up with some new material.
I get it. I do. He romanticizes the South because he can’t help it. He writes about the things he loves every day and it just happens to be the same dozen things. He has a small-ish life, and he’s content with that. Not all of us are jet setting to the South of France and wine tasting in Tuscany every few weeks. Some of us just want to lay on a porch swing and drink sweet tea all afternoon. Oh, I forgot. It’s fall. Some of us just want to sit around a campfire and drink hot chocolate half the night. I’m not even high-brow enough to desire a fireplace and red wine. What? Nobody says high-brow anymore? Fine. Cultured, then. It’s obvious to me you can’t please everybody with your writing. Look at Stephen King! He’s definitely not everybody’s cup of tea, but he’s got his {massive} following. Just like Sean D. People will read what they want to. I guess y’all are wondering if I’m ever gonna get around to it, but I warned you my mind is all atwitter.
There’s a fly aggravating me. Shouldn’t he be dead by now? Heeheehee. That makes me think of someone else that should be dead by now, due to his lifestyle.
Hmm. Fog, was it? Back in the spring, I missed a good picture. I thought about turning around to take it, but that would have made me late for work. It was Dr. Lyle’s cows, placidly grazing on a hilltop behind a barbed wire fence, fog surrounding them, while the sun rose throwing sherbet light over it all.
Or maybe I romanticize cows.
There was another time, a gloomy October day a couple of years ago. It was one of those days where it had rained off and on all day, just enough to make it dank and dismal. I was coming home the scenic route and the fog laid through this holler wispy around the edges. The trees had shed their leaves and were black and had that Sleepy Hollow quality, growing over the road, branches reaching for each other and making a tunnel. It was just the right amount of creepy. But I was also glad I didn’t live in that stretch of backwoods.
I’ve got a tiny sliver of glass embedded in my thumb. I noticed it last night- that uncomfortable feeling when I bent it at the knuckle. I should have gotten it out then. Now it’s gonna take more than scotch tape to remove it. I’m thinking one of those Biore strips for blackheads will suffice.
I wish I knew more about the Heavens. I really would like to be able to point out more constellations. As it stands, I can rarely find the Big Dipper. They all look alike to me and I can find points everywhere.
Well. I’ve just checked my word count and I’m right at 1000 about a bunch of nothing and that’s plenty for y’all to suffer through. I do hope you’ve found a respite from your day through this, if nothing else. Maybe you’re feeling fortunate you don’t live inside my head (you should). I wish I had some deep seated inspirational words of wisdom to share with you. But it’s me we’re talking about. All I can tell you is go forth and do your best to stay happy, at whatever cost.
Love from Appalachia,
~Amy
I was working on one of those time-wasting questionnaires on Facebook this morning. I need an activity while I drink my coffee, otherwise my dog thinks it’s my job to pet him with my free hand. And I DO pet him, but it’s never enough. He is such an indulged glutton. Anyway, I’m whizzing right along answering the “Adult” questions- no, no, not like that, they were the style of “what bill do you hate the most?” and “which housecleaning chore do you put off until you hate yourself?”, stuff like that. Then one gave me pause. “Found Love Yet?”
Well helllll-o. Of course if you live past the age of seventeen you’ve found love. But did love reciprocate? As you grow older, you come to realize that love isn’t just about spending the rest of your days with another human you’ve found attractive. Well, I hope you realize it, anyway. You’ve loved your whole life. You loved your mother, you loved macaroni and cheese, you loved your tire swing, you loved your mangy dog. Whatever. But of course this shallow test didn’t mean that. It meant the “traditional” sense of finding love.
Well, sure I found it. And it was reciprocated. And we were bound by vows given in fancy attire in front of our closest 125 friends in the sweltering heat at a grand old plantation house and I have a stamped piece of paper from the courthouse proving it. And pictures that I can’t be bothered to burn because I looked so damn pretty and even my hair behaved that day.
So yeah, I found love. And then love walked out.
It will never matter how many times he says he’s sorry, or how many of his friends tell me how much he regrets it, or how many times he says he loves me to this day and forever. Because he didn’t value it. So it wasn’t love. His words have no life, no power over me. I listen in a distracted way, when I’m forced to listen. It’s like hearing a story about someone you used to know. Really, that’s what it is.
His current life is unlike anything I ever imagined. I feel no grief, no pain, no regrets now. This is by his design. I will not let him guilt me into any emotion. We all cope differently. If not for several special friends and family, I might have a very different story, myself. I have gotten through this part of my life by a glossing-over mechanism, a fake-it-till-you-make-it style of coping. I don’t think about it much, and if I do, I try to replace it with what good, lovely things have come from it. This may not be ideal, and it may not work for everyone, but it has worked for me. And I stayed busy- going to the gym, having dinner and drinks with friends, my virtual farm (I’m six weeks sober from it hahahhaha), I even picked up a second job for awhile. Spreading joy through icing is a definite pick-me-up! We’re not all given the same shot at life, I agree with that. But you make decisions every day. I’m a firm believer in who you choose to spend time with will either improve your life or worsen it. Choose carefully. And if you don’t have any that will have a positive impact, you better learn to spend time alone. Love yourself first and best. Don’t depend on another for your happiness. They can add to it, but don’t let someone else have the reins. I ate supper with two of my closest friends Wednesday night. As I sat there, I was overwhelmed with appreciation and thankfulness that my life is what it is. So many people would like to have two true friends. So many people would like to be able to go have a steak dinner (or the World’s Largest Pork Chop, as the case may be). So many women are stifled in this very country and are unable to get a night out alone with their girlfriends, or a night out, period. For whatever reason: religion, controlling husband, too many demands on their time. Maybe their own stigma of not deserving it.
Love is a prickly thing. You may be questioning it today. But true love really is unconditional. It’s caring about another person’s happiness more than your own. It’s letting them find their path without interference from you. It’s being able to call anytime, any where, and having a safe haven. That’s what love is. Love is “did you eat something?” or “I’ll come get you” or sometimes it’s just the bald truth. Because no matter how difficult the truth is to hear, it will always trump a lie. Lies are not protection.
So I hope you’ve found that kind of love. If you haven’t, keep looking. They tell me it’s out there in the form of forever and always. Oh, and there is one little trick– you have to love yourself first. Be the person you would want to love.
Love from Appalachia,
Amy
I’ve been poisoning the ants at work for some time. I can’t tell that there have been any long term effects. I KNOW Terro works, I’ve used it for years at home and recommended it to countless people. I have had to hear people groan that they’re only feeding them, because you don’t actually get the enjoyment of watching their little bodies keel over, as it is a bait- they carry it back to their Motherland to be put in the catacombs and clutches for the entire colony to divide and consume.
Socialism, I say.
So anyway, about a week ago, I had stuck some Eggos in the toaster and topped them with blueberries. One can’t have fresh blueberry waffles without whipped cream, so I was squirting it artfully around when I ran out.
You know what happens when you reach the end of a can of Redi Whip? I’ll tell you, it ain’t pretty. You don’t even get a warning. Everything is going fine, and then it suddenly isn’t. The little globs of cream shoot haphazardly all over the place. It was on the counter, in the sink, probably dripping off the cabinet. I had whipped cream dotting my arms, my shirt, my glasses. But I’m not one to let a little mess stand between me and breakfast. I went ahead and ate. When I took my plate to the sink several minutes later, I noticed a stray ant that had ventured down into the sink to investigate. I assumed he was a scout, like in the old days of the American Frontier- like Deets on Lonesome Dove. His job was to find water, the ant’s job was to find saccharine. I turned the water on with the intent of drowning him before he could summon his whole army, but he was too quick for me. He scampered up the side of the sink and was gone through a hairline crack before I could bat my eyes.
I washed up all my dishes and got the whipped cream wiped off all the surfaces.
Some time later, I was back in the kitchen, and here are a herd of ants, congregated at the sink. They looked like they were having a conference, antennae waving. I dropped some goo in their path from whence they trooped, and watched.
I became concerned.
Obviously, one of the ants was the ant from earlier, probably pleading his case, waving his tiny arms around, indicating that there had indeed been glorious sticky puddles of sugar here, there, and everywhere, but mysteriously, now they were all gone without a trace. Had I inadvertently endangered this poor ant’s life by cleaning up what I saw as a mess, what he saw as livelihood? What would be his fate? Would they hang him from the gallows? Stone him on the courthouse steps with sand? Would it be OUR courthouse or did ants have an elaborate system of checks and balances like a democracy or were they ran by a monarch? Would they call “off with his head!!”???
This was all my fault.
And so I drowned the lot of them.
All for one, and justice for all. Or something like that.
😁
I hope you have a friend that sits.
I hope you have someone who won’t ask questions, or tell you what they would do in your shoes, or how they’ve handled a similar situation. I hope you have a friend that sits.
I hope you have a friend that will take you to a restaurant and buy your lunch, and not expect you to eat a bite. I hope you have a friend that will ask the waiter for a box while you cry quietly.
I hope you have a friend that will come pick you up and take you to church with them and sit, holding your hand as you weep into their shoulder. I hope you have a friend that sits.
I hope you have a friend that opens their home to you when you cannot bear to be alone. I hope they putter around busily, making dinner and coffee and maybe baking a cake for a coworker. I hope you have a friend that is kind and quiet and keeps the TV on the cooking channel.
I hope your friend has a dog. Because dogs help everything. And dogs sit, too.
I hope you have a friend that isn’t ashamed to have no other purpose than to be on suicide watch because they love you.
I hope you have a friend that goes with you when you’re ready, no matter what it is you’re ready for. I hope they sit beside you in your car, laughing manically, or singing at the top of their lungs.
I hope you have a friend that sits, and asks nothing of you, besides, “When you’re ready, can I go with you?”
You need a great many friends in this life. But I hope you are blessed with at least one friend who sits.
And if you find yourself lacking, I can be that for you. It would be my honor and pleasure.
One tear
Waits for its companion
On the curve of an eyelash
It doesn't have to wait long, and they are replaced by another
And another
And another
Let me go
I want to scream
You sacrificed nothing
And I want to be untethered
And without remorse
But I must settle for drowning
In sorrow
In pear wine
In my solitude
With only tears
That never stop falling
It is summer
It is always summer
When he emerges
No matter where he's been
But I won't save him again
Here lies a square spade shovel
That could quickly dispose of you
If I could get a good enough swing for momentum
Or maybe this wine bottle
Recently emptied by yours truly
Would do the trick with more grace
I always thought poison would be the way to go
But to get you drunk enough to take it
Takes too long
Of course a bullet would be the fastest and easiest
But it's too cold hearted and detached
To suit me
My favorite
Is the hands-on murder
I don't hire a man
Or sabotage your truck
Or even consult a Voodoo Priestess
No.
I fantasize about grabbing you by the throat
When you lean in to try to kiss me goodbye- what would your girlfriend say about that, I wonder-
And sinking a butcher knife into your neck
And watch your eyes widen
With recognition
As you realize I hate you
As much as I ever loved you.
And forgiveness will not come from me.
This is it. The end. And I just found out I’ve been doing it wrong all along.
Today’s challenge I saved for last. That’s a lie. I put it off till last. Because I didn’t “have time”. I should have started with it, and used it as a guide the whole way. But no. I thought I knew best. What a joke.
As a reader, I am constantly finding things I want to read and people are relentless in their recommendations to me. As I am to them. And I appreciate it! I have found many great reads from the persuasion of others. But what with book club, and books I have had on loan through READS for eons, plus the ones I continue to buy and pile up, I am inundated with material. So when I asked my Aunt Brenda what to pray for and what to fast in her honor, and she said, “I want you to read the book of Matthew,” I will admit, I swallowed hard and immediately began thinking, “well, I’ve got plenty of time to get to it.”
And here I am, on the last day, middle of the afternoon, a full six Lent writings behind, and only in the eighth chapter of 28. The reading isn’t hard, and it is quite enlightening, the stories familiar and comforting, but I don’t think I’m gonna make it what with all my other procrastinated duties coming to a head today. I did get laundry done, though.
Anyway. it’s raining again, an event that is keeping me from my beloved Chickalay. So at least it’s conducive to reading and writing. Did you know that in Matthew is where we find the Lord’s Prayer? You know, the one that so many recite before suppertime? “Our father, which art in Heaven…” etc. It is frequently used by families each day…and that’s good that they’re praying, but the Bible tells us NOT to do this very thing: And when you pray, do not use vain repetitions as the heathen do. It goes on to give us the prayer as a template to follow as HOW to pray. Or that’s what my Study Bible version says. And that makes sense to me. Six requests total: three for the kingdom to come, and three for Him to fulfill the needs until the kingdom arrives. I try to use the five parts like this: 1) Adoration-love of our Lord. words are nothing if they don’t come from the heart. Adoration will help you get in that heart felt praying zone. 2) Supplication-to ask humbly by praying. This is why Jesus taught not to pray as hypocrites in the synagogues, and not to use vain repetitions. We are to pray humbly, and not praying to be seen. Prayer should be an intimate relationship between you and God. 3) Thanksgiving-Expression of gratitude. In Philippians Paul taught us to worry about nothing, pray about anything, and be thankful for all things. 4) Intercession-petition of another 5) Confession-the act of confessing. God forgives us over and over. Of course, we are to try to overcome the stumbling blocks, but God will continue to forgive us. Why? Because he is God. I found the description more eloquent that how I would have phrased it from this page: http://chadlavender.blogspot.com/2006/06/five-parts-of-prayer.html
And I’ve referred to this many times over the year, I have it printed out and stuck in my Bible. The Five Finger Prayer from https://faithhub.net/five-finger-prayer/
The first is the thumb, because it’s the nearest to you. Begin your prayers by praying for those closest to your heart; family, friends, etc. They are the most important people in our lives.
The second is the index finger. This one should remind us to pray for those that are the furthest away from us. Those that we cannot reach but can point to.
The third is the tallest and largest finger. It should remind us to pray for our leaders; our president, prime minister, leaders of business and industry, clergy or administrators. These people shape our nation and guide public opinion and need God’s guidance.
The fourth is our ring finger. Surprising to many is the fact that this is our weakest finger, as any piano teacher will testify. It should remind us to pray for those who are weak, in trouble or in pain. They need your prayers day and night. You cannot pray enough for them.
The fifth is our little finger – the smallest of all. Your pinkie should remind you to pray for yourself. By the time you have prayed for the other four groups, your own needs will be put into proper perspective and you will be able to pray for yourself more effectively.
Matthew begins a little dense, one of those books that starts with genealogy (who begot whom) but you can skim over that and go straight to Christ’s birth. We learn how Joseph obeyed the word of God as it was presented in dreams and moved around to protect his Son. We learn that John was sustained by eating locusts and wild honey and was baptizing believers in the River Jordan. And then we get to the “Beatitudes”, which are nice to read.
And seeing the multitudes, He went up on a mountain, and when He was seated His disciples came to Him. 2 Then He opened His mouth and taught them, saying:
5 3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 Blessed are those who mourn,
For they shall be comforted.
5 Blessed are the meek,
For they shall inherit the [aearth.
6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
For they shall be filled.
7 Blessed are the merciful,
For they shall obtain mercy.
8 Blessed are the pure in heart,
For they shall see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers,
For they shall be called sons of God.
10 Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11 Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. 12 Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Doesn’t that make you feel all warm and cozy and loved? Matthew goes on to teach us not to cuss, that “No” and “Yes” are enough; no adjectives are needed. It tells us not to worry, especially about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. It tells us not to judge, or to run with people who are not believers. It tells us to ask the Almighty for what we want. And here’s something I have always believed– because the right way is rarely the popular way. “Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it.”
And so after reading through all this, I realize I’ve been doing it all wrong. “Moreover, when you fast, do not be like the hypocrites, with a sad countenance. For they disfigure their faces that they may appear to men to be fasting. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. 17 But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, 18 so that you do not appear to men to be fasting, but to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.” Have I seemed sad? I was sad on the day I couldn’t have sugar, for sure. And I was aggravated on my no dairy days. That’s no way to be!! But I didn’t think I was supposed to be actively enjoying it. I did find purpose–I felt empathy for those who lived without sugar as a way of life because they had no choice. And then I got on here and griped to y’all, negating the good I had found. And I prayed aloud, or as I assume this counts since I have an audience. But we’re supposed to gather and pray? The Bible is full of contradictions and it’s no wonder there are so many religions and interpretations and people are confused on what is right and wrong. I say- do what feels right in your heart, for He knows our heart. Show people love, and how they’re not supposed to look to individuals here on Earth for guidance, to look to the One.
So that’s as far as I’m going to go with this particular post in terms of scripture. Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. Imagine the solitude and darkness and grief that were felt on this day. But it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. It’s gonna be FANTASTIC and JUBILANT, as a matter of fact. You just gotta get through THIS day.
Many of you know my Aunt Bren. She’s been a big part of my life since the beginning. She always treated me like a little lady, and we had a great many adventures together. I’m so glad she’s back home! She worked out of state for many years and was only home sporadically. I truly don’t know what I’d do without her. I cannot elaborate enough what this woman means to me and how she helps me through most any trial and celebrates my accomplishments. Her door is always open to me AND my friends, and she is always up for a ride with me on any mundane errand. I hope that each of you have someone like this in your life. She didn’t give me a list of things to pay for, but I think I know a few. She would want me to speak of Uncle Dale first and foremost, mainly for his health concerns, her sisters whom I’ve been around many times (especially Miss Shirley, who is just down the road), her friend Kevin in Kentucky, and the safety of us all. I won’t put her specific prayer on here (seeeeee???? I CAN be taught!) but I will say that you are free to join me on these requests. I think I should also ask for some divine intervention for their cabin, because the roof continues to leak no matter how many times they have it looked at. It’s a big fine home, but something about the metal roofing around the dormers has never been right and with all this rain it’s really a problem.
I will say that even though I’ve evidently been doing this all wrong by putting the prayers on here, it has been a blessing to me. It has held me accountable- you can’t just start something like this and not see it through. I’ve found new ways to pray, new people and things to be thankful for, and essentially a new way of looking at life. Easter brings another kind of renewal to all of us, and I hope you are all feeling refreshed in your hearts. I hope that you have enjoyed this journey with me. I hope you maybe learned something, and if not, I just hope it wasn’t a waste of time. I hope we all find new ways to love one another. I hope you all go forward and BE BLESSED.
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
Last week was Library Appreciation Week. I only posted one thing about it, but I think I post often enough so everybody knows where I stand on libraries.
In case you recently crawled out from under a lettuce leaf, know that I LOVE them.
I don’t know that I can adequately put into words what the library means to me. But I’m gonna try my best. Even though I’m more than a week late. I’m always late. And before I forget, that cover pic was taken by Liz Ballard, who truly has a history with our local library. I didn’t ask for permission, but I don’t think she’ll mind.
I have served on the local library board for several years now, and it looks like I’m going off next month to serve on the Regional Board.
Anyway, that’s the least of my love. QUITE literally. Board meetings are typically endured, not always enjoyed. Even though they try to make it cool. Here’s our meeting room:
But that’s part of adulting. The good news is, it allows me to know what events are coming up before anybody else 😀 I have a lifespan of memories at the library. It brought tears to my eyes when I was asked to serve. My mind flashed back to all the times I’d walked through the door, clutching my satchel, ready to return the fifteen and borrow my next bunch. My hair in a french braid so it wouldn’t get in my eyes as I made my selections. I still remember the old libraries, and how they grew. The one in my hometown started out as a camper in the parking lot of Third National Bank, parking there only one day a week. I would beg Mom to drive me to the “big” one in Sevierville that had more books and were open every day. My school library couldn’t keep up. That’s where I got my bubble burst, too. After I abandoned my veterinary career dream, I decided I wanted to be a librarian for obvious reasons. My primary school librarian had the audacity to tell me she didn’t get to actually read all the books. I think tears of disappointment mixed with sorrow fell from my eyes.
I attended “Library Camp” which I know as the Summer Reading Program now. It’s a major undertaking that drives every volunteer and worker to their knees with fatigue by the end of every day. Back then I remember making little beaches inside seashells and lots of crafty projects involving glue and glitter. I remember Judy Godfrey helping me. I remember being read to. These are just MY memories. I know y’all have plenty as well.
I can’t even tell you all the awesome things our library provides. Just yesterday I learned that they have a vinyl decal machine. I could have saved six dollars and made my own sea turtle sticker instead of ordering it. They have a 3-D printer where you can make whistles and bracelets and once…a prosthetic nose. They have a green screen and you can record a commercial. This is all on the third floor in the maker space. They have conference rooms and computers that you can use for free. They have crafty classes all the time and make cutting boards and wreaths and wine cork art. They have writers come for book signings and speeches, lots of local speakers who talk about everything from planting by the signs to forensic pathology, and artists who’ll teach you how to paint with a twist. I’m just getting started, y’all. They rent daypacks for adventures in the woods, lots of DVDs, and have genealogists on hand to help you trace back your family’s roots. There’s a bookstore, too, in case you need a quick gift or just want to own your own copy of a favorite book. There’s a little cafe tucked in the corner, and Chess Club, and Bingo Club, and of course, a book club for everyone.
I hear those book clubs are how some people make lifelong friends.
Anyway, what I’m trying to stress to you is that libraries are important. They run on a shoestring budget-those librarians are THRIFTY! They write grants to petition big businesses to give us money to buy those 3-D printers and scanners to replace microfiche machines. They beg and plead with local government to give raises to their employees, and get more employees so they can have more programs or stay open longer hours or so branch locations can be open on Saturdays. They try to give the people what they want, I promise you that. They encourage the public to make commissioners aware of how much you use the library. Through donations of local people and organizations, they are able to provide “snack time” for afterschool children, and let me tell you, there are stories there that will positively break your heart. They are constantly having fundraisers- yard sales, bake sales, drives for mittens and scarves and coats, and my favorite- Night at The Library!
They have a Teen Group that visits the nursing homes and they go caroling and they have lock-ins. Did I mention the “Movies at the Commons”? They run a classic movie once a month in the summer under the stars! How cool is that? I think they even provide water and popcorn. There’s always art on exhibit to enjoy and purchase (I’m currently saving for the painting below).
They have little lending libraries scattered in remote locations around the county, too, and you don’t have to worry about returning those in a timely fashion. And hey, didja know you don’t even have to leave the comfort of your own home to use the library? In Tennessee, we have this awesome online ebook source called R.E.A.D.S. It’s simple! You just log on with your local library card number, set up an account, surf through their ebooks and audiobooks and check out and download. Super easy! And what about those of you who don’t have internet? And can’t get to the library enough to use their free WiFi? Well, they also let you borrow hotspots. That’s right. Take one of those gadgets home and Viola! You’re on the grid. Don’t know how to use a computer if you did have the WiFi? Well, they have computer classes, too. And tax assistance. And a lawyer once a month who does free thirty minute sessions. I’m beginning to think if the library ain’t got it, you don’t need it.
I could go on and on, but while all these things are nice, none of it would happen without the people. It takes a passel of caring individuals for any of these things to happen. It starts with a good director. They have to know who is best in which position. The director has to be approachable, because any job dealing with the public is a demanding, exhausting one. And you have to be able to talk about your challenges with someone who has been there and knows the best way to handle it. There will be children who come to you for hugs and advice, because there’s no one at home to help them. The employees of the library have to have the patience of a saint. Every employee. They have to refrain from rolling their eyes when a patron asks for a book they read as a child and all they can remember is that it was about a frog and the cover was orange. Or maybe it was blue…
There are Legos to pick up and books to reshelve and tears to wipe. There are little dramas every day, and cheese to slice and decorations to pack away. There is help to give, every time you turn around. And they all pitch in. It takes a village to raise a child, and I hope and pray that you use the library as an integral part of your village. There’s hardly a better environment. Stimulation is only apart of it. Here you will witness people interacting, and sharing, and loving something that is there for everybody. Here you can find acceptance, no matter what you think is the weirdest part of yourself. If you ask me, there’s hardly anything more comforting than being in the midst of thousands of books, and also among people who love them. If I ever get married again, I’ll do it there.
Lord, I’m here with head bowed to pray for the best institution in my existence and the people who run it efficiently. They don’t have much money, but they have heart and soul and help more people in an eight hour day than any church I’ve ever set foot in. Why is it the people who have the least help the most? I thank you for all the people who make this happen, from generous donors to the volunteers who sacrifice time to make others days a little better. I thank you for the workers. They will never be paid their weight in gold, but I want them to know without a doubt they are appreciated and noticed. They are making a difference in people’s lives and will never be forgotten. I still have my memories of my favorite librarians, even though I have new favorites today. I pray that you encourage them, Lord, and lift them up when they find it so hard to keep going. They never know what will await them that day. I pray for the children as well. I pray that as they grow in knowledge, they grow in love, and that they never forget how the library made them feel. I hope that they will grow up and give freely to the institution that helped them thrive and become successful. I pray for the troubled ones, too, the ones who are coming from a difficult home life and the only solace they find is at the library. I especially pray for these children, that they know they are loved and accepted and special in their own way. That they know the library is the very safest place. I pray for the trustees that serve with me in the running of the library. May our decisions always be led by who we can help the most and how to enrich lives and dreams. May we spread good news always, and be advocates and encouragers of this establishment. May the government let the funds flow freely, and step back to let the directors know how to spend it. They are the front lines, they know the needs of their county. Thank you especially for blessing our county with the best director ever, who has a heart bursting with love for her career, who believes she makes a difference, who can give the right answer every time. Thank you for all the people who open the doors and let everybody enter- no questions asked. Please protect them, Lord. They only have their hearts. They are only there to do good. May their love of books grow, and they always have time to read them so as to be able to recommend to those seeking assistance. Thank you for our gift of sight, our compassion, and all the teachers and librarians through the years who have patiently taught us how to sound out and spell and READ. In Jesus’ Holy name, Amen.
With all my love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
