We celebrated the 90th birthday (August 2, 1929) of Clara Nelle Westmoreland Taylor on July 4 weekend. All three children and spouses, all seven grandchildren and spouses and all twelve great-grandchildren were there for a house-party celebration. I rented an AirBnB house in Greenwood, Mississippi that turned out to be the house on Grand Avenue where scenes from "The Help" were filmed. The grand old house has seen better days, but with a pool, 4 bedrooms and plenty of space, it was perfect for our family.
I'll share a few pictures here and the link to the google photo album. https://photos.app.goo.gl/mnXQ2vLhWS5iUFx6A
Sunday, June 30, 2019
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Cataloochee Valley
Road Trip!!
The Cataloochee – June
2019
8:20 am mile 166830 Leaving
from home
10:38 am mile 166943 North
Carolina Exit 20, I-40 Entering Cove Creek Rd.
Trip 0.0
3.2 Road Narrows
4.2 Stone Wall
4.4 Big Foot
4.6 Gravel begins around
the hairpin curve at Boyd Mtn Rd.
5.2 Commercial Development
sign; wide turn-around
5.7 GSMNP Boundary;
Cove Gap; begin descent
7.5 Pavement begins;
go right
7.8 Scenic overlook
10.3 Big Creek Fork to
Palmer House; Valley begins
10.7 Campground;
Desirable sites 3, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11, 12
13.5 End of the Valley
Rd
Picnic at Beech Grove
School
3.25 pm Leaving Big Creek
Fork
3:40 pm Park
Boundary
3:48 pm Back to
pavement
4:02 pm mile
166983; End Cove Creek Rd, Enter I-40
6:10 pm mile 167096; Arrive
home
YouTube link: Cataloochee
Valley, Great Smoky Mountains National Park
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lbGd8JYl84&t=16s
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
Holy Encounter
Holy Encounter
Moses encountered God in a
burning bush. I encountered the Holy in a blueberry bush. In the
early cool of a summer morning, quiet except for a mockingbird
serenade, I focused on transferring plump-ripe blueberries from branch
to bucket without dropping too many. Enveloped in stillness broken
only by my earnest picking, I though of the hard-earned joy of a
harvest. God-Nature, with some assistance from humans, produces
abundant harvests to meet all our needs.
An abundant harvest is no
accident. It is the result of careful husbandry – planning,
preparing, planting and tending come before. Growing up on a farm, I
learned to live in the rhythm of the seasons – to live in the truth
of Ecclesiastes 3: “1 There's
a season for everything and a time for every matter under the
heavens: 2 a
time for giving birth and a time for dying, a time for planting and a
time for uprooting what was planted, 3 a
time for killing and a time for healing, a time for tearing down and
a time for building up, 4 a
time for crying and a time for laughing, a time for mourning and a
time for dancing, 5 a
time for throwing stones and a time for gathering stones, a time for
embracing and a time for avoiding embraces, 6 a
time for searching and a time for losing, a time for keeping and a
time for throwing away, 7 a
time for tearing and a time for repairing, a time for keeping silent
and a time for speaking, 8 a
time for loving and a time for hating, a time for war and a time for
peace.”
I
am thankful for the farmer who planted these blueberry bushes in
anticipation of today's harvest, who mulched and mowed and tended to
make his orchard productive. I reaped without putting in the work.
In my own garden, I must do the work in advance in order to reap the
rewards. With my head among the branches and my hand busy, I though
of the many harvest seasons in my life experiences, of picking
blackberries and dewberries as a young child of 6 or 7, of learning
gardening skills, of learning the arts of food preservation, of
mother and grandmother in the kitchen and Willis in the garden,
patiently guiding, of more than 45 years of my adulthood -planting,
tending, picking, canning, freezing so that my family could enjoy the
abundance of a harvest sustainably produced.
Alone
among the bushes, another bit of scripture came to mind: Luke 10:2
“the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few...” Not many
people appreciate the satisfaction of harvesting their own food. Our
contemporary lives are ordered differently and most people do their
harvesting in a store. When I enjoy raspberry jam on my toast or make
blueberry pancakes for my grandchildren or serve green beans for
dinner, I intimately know that food's journey. The harvest is
multiplied. The Holy is encountered again and again, every step of
the way.
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