When you are
Now back to our Woodbine-Sherrie Lane Adventure...we visited the creek where as kids we'd ride our bikes to and would walk in the creek to our picnic spot around the bend but this time we got there by driving down the path that starts where Coggins' house used to be in the culdesac court that we played in tar puddles once with our cousins and rode our bikes and big wheels and inch worms around and around...just before the top of the sledding hill that would take us all the way down onto the lake! and there was that curb along Sherrie Lane where my sister fell and broke her arm that I went back there to dissect the gum that fell out of her mouth to see if she was going to be ok while my parents had taken her to the hospital...and last but not least, actually first, we went to the office building where I used to look for agates for hours. We're going to go back there when we have more time. We looked across the highway at the spot where Dad (Grandpa Jerry) would take us in our station wagon and we'd swim at the Tanner's Lake drop off.
My parents were awoken at 4:30 a.m. yesterday morning by their neighbor Jim alerting them that cabins were burning just a few down from theirs. You can listen to Jim's story and about his missing cat, a wild one that was hopefully just hunkered down somewhere safe and will again have a spring litter of calico kittens in the neighbor lady's shed. Please keep these families and the arsons in your prayers. My dad called earlier and was telling me how he left their porch light on overnight last night and sprang from bed early this morning engulfed with a foreboding feeling and swearing he saw a flickering flame only to find it was likely just his imagination. My mom told of an elderly woman a couple cabins away from a burning cabin that was taken by ambulance as propane tanks around them exploded. Mom, Dad and Jim stood out on the frozen lake feeling the helplessness of the situation...nearly a foot of fresh snow had fallen making it difficult for fire fighters to get close and they recalled watching the recent devastation of the wildfires in California with a whole new understanding of what those people were feeling. Local news story here.
As I contemplate the purpose of this blog entry, two primary motivations rise to the top of the neocortex with plenty of "pure amygdala" promptings. First, it's a fun-loving attempt to rouse the slightest bit of affinity for the genre from one of the most unlikely of converts. Whoever could that be? It may very well serve only to install the aversion even deeper in her psyche. We shall see. Secondly, it is a personally embarrassing recollection of my first-ever favorite song by the country boy extraordinaire, God rest his soul, John Denver. One Sunday afternoon, my Dad peaked into my childhood bedroom and found me crouched on the other side of my twin bed wedged between it and the wall with this album cover in hand and pressed firmly against my lips. After the blood that had bolted up into my face faded to a lighter shade of pink, I explained how I was pretending he was that really cute boy at church that my heart was seriously crushing over, hoping that would elicit some compassion and understanding. I don't remember anything more other than feeling pretty foolish. I listen to the lyrics of this song now and am struck by how obscure and random they are and how much I didn't know what on earth he's really singing about. But something about it touched something in me that I still love even if I didn't really get it then. So, here is my contribution to the all time favorite country songs collection. If you have one you'd like added just include the song title and artist's name in your comment and I'll see what I can find on youtube and we'll get 'er done.
