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Category: Another Day in Appalachia
Stories that didn’t fit anywhere else.
I look a little crazy today. I blame the wind. It’s like those Santa Ana winds that drive people to suicide…mine just drove me to indecision about my jewelry for today. I’m telling everyone I’m going with the Johnny Depp look. Shoulda tied a scarf around my arm too, dang it… Also, I wore a lipstick shade that is out of character for me (pink–it was the first one I came to), & the wind was whipping this morning & blew my hair in my face. I worked about an hour, walked into the bathroom, & it looked like a cat had scratched me all over my face. Thanks, coworkers, for the heads up…
While I was sitting in the waiting area of my eye doctor, sans glasses, some wormy guy went walking by, took a double take, stopped, and pulled out his camera. I hopped up & went to the desk, behind the safety of a potted plant. The girls looked at me expectantly. “I don’t want anything, but there’s a weird guy out there, and if I’m gonna hafta shoot him, I’m gonna need my glasses.” They quickly handed them over & one of the girls was like, “What’s he doing?” “Just being weird. I think he was taking my picture. I dunno. I couldn’t see.” (Taking advantage of my disability!!! The SHAME!) She took a card to go out & help him & he went on his way. I love my new optometrist. She took this picture & told me to drink gin & tonic for my eye twitch…
I have never set foot inside a Starbucks. I don’t order sweet tea at restaurants because it isn’t sweet enough. I cry during the National Anthem. Every time. I pray during football games about as hard as I pray any other time. I also cry when we lose. I cry when we win, too. Go Vols…
Walked in the door, the house smells like pork roast & woodsmoke, a delicious combination that instantly brought to mind my mamaw’s house. Lightning Bug came charging up the stairs to greet me before I could even set my purse down. Open my package, & it’s my new bracelet! Life is so much better at home…
Yesterday, I had a hard time all day long. I contribute it to being a Monday, but it was more than that. It started out innocently enough, with my swiss cheese bag that wouldn’t close. You know sometimes how you have trouble? How there’s a little air pocket in the side and it causes it not to be lined up right and screws the whole track up? It was like that. Or so I thought. I started really looking at it after about four tries, and realized the whole blamed zipper side was gone, it was all connected on one side and open. Dang. I didn’t have time to fool with it, so I threw it back in the drawer and away I flew. I made some waffles, and went to pour me a tall glass of milk…and there was none. I knew we were low….evidence of Johnny fixing himself a bowl of cereal in the sink. He NEVER eats cereal before he goes to work. Oh well. A minor inconvenience, right? I drank water. He texts me on his way home that he’s gonna stop for a gallon. Great. I’d already forgotten about it at this point. I get home and awhile later, I hear him in the kitchen grumbling. “What’s wrong?” He’s pouring…
October 5th 2013 I tried to explain to a guy from New York the “orange thing” today. I had to work, & although I do possess a couple of official Co-op shirts in orange, I was wearing a jersey. “What’s with the orange? Y’all got a game today?” Although Georgia isn’t viewed with the same hatred that fuels us against Florida or Bama, they are still SEC & it’s still a “big game”. I thought for a second & finally said, “I can’t imagine NOT wearing orange on game day. I can’t imagine not caring about the turnout of a Vols game. I’m working till four, or I would be down there, screaming my head off with a hundred thousand other die-hards, because that’s what we do. That’s what my momma’s doin’, & that’s what my grandmother used to do, & that’s just what you do if you if you’re born here in big orange country.” He looked at me a while, cocked his head like a cocker spaniel, & said, “You people are a rare breed. You’re loyal to the end. Syracuse fans will leave in the first quarter if they’re down by ten.” I just smiled, & didn’t say the rest, but I…
I’ve decided I like golf. I think it’s one of those things you have to acquire a liking to, similar to lobster. This must mean I’ve matured at last. It’s pretty calming, & unobtrusive. I can read while it’s on, & not be bothered by war-like sounds emitted every few seconds, or the thunderous gorilla chanting & squeaks that accompany basketball. Perhaps best of all, the scenery is much more picturesque than that of any other sport I can think of. The fans are low-key & controlled, politely clapping or voicing a barely audible groan every now and then. The commentators stay calm, as well. The golfers themselves cut an elegant figure, dressed in a classic manner (for the most part-there is this one guy that’s kinda out there in some loud clothes but that’s fun too). There’s this guy named Bubba I’m pulling for, mainly due to his name but I also dig his hot pink driver. I wiki’d him & he seems like a top-notch kind of human. I say give golf a chance. It’s the last four holes of the masters, y’all, how much better does it get…
I am an intact human. My body is reluctant to part with any of its apparatus. I still have my wisdom teeth, tonsils, gall bladder, & appendix. But not for long! February 20th I will be bidding farewell to my wisdom teeth. (I hope I don’t lose my smarts in the process) Naturally, I’m terrified…
Most of you remember him as “The Mule Man” at Silver Dollar City and later, Dollywood. Somewhere, my mom has a picture of he & I together in front of the mill, me grinning like a mule eating sawbriars. Later, when I came to work at the Co-op, I was astonished when he came walking up to buy sweet feed. I hadn’t thought about him in twenty years, & thought he was long gone to heaven. He was OLD when I was little! But here he was, just acting like a normal person, shopping at th…e local feed & seed. I remember after he left, I was beside myself! I had just been in the presence of a real celebrity!!! Gary & Judy were laughing because he was just a regular mountain man to them, & unbeknownst to me, had lived right over the hill from me “in the valley” years ago (& missed it desperately, as he would tell anybody that asked). Red, indeed, was a regular customer, I came to know soon after. I was always dazzled to wait on him & would engage him in conversation every time I had the opportunity. He worked at The Mine in Governor’s Crossing for awhile & would regale me with stories of the tourists who remembered him from their vacations in years previous, taken with their parents. And now here they were with THEIR kids, & had to have…
Yesterday is evidently known as “Blue Monday” due to the majority of the workforce getting back to the grind after time off from the glittery, glamorous, holidays. Also the realization of how much was spent on said holidays. However, in true procrastinator fashion, today was my Blue Monday. I finally got the last-and largest- of our Christmas trees torn down and stored. It is so depressing. The house is so drab. Johnny, to the contrary, likes it. He’s not a fan of clutter, which technically, I will concur, Christmas creates. That’s the only time of year my library is in a state of disarray. And that makes me a little crazy. Anyway, in addition to my depression over the loss of decorations, I am still puny. I have not put one little toe out into the Polar Vortex today. My book is draaaaaging. And I did not cook. That should tell you something. Pass the kleenex. *putting my blanket over my head…
