Sunday, May 28, 2017

Everyone should...

Cove Creek in Green River Gamelands, Polk County NC

"Everyone should pick a cat up by the tail at least once," Mark Twain reputedly said, "just for the experience, but only a fool would do it twice"

Ten things I would be a fool to do again:
Write a novel with 40 named characters.
Write a crime novel.
work for wages.
Trust medical advice.
Borrow money from strangers.
Borrow money from friends.
Vote for a Republican.
Vote for a Democrat.
 Get a divorce.
Speak at a friend's funeral.

Saturday, May 27, 2017


We got a brief weather break this week, a couple of rainless days with even a little sun. So I took time off from editing the novel manuscript and set out the sweet potato slips that arrived Thursday morning from Sow True Seed, a dozen Porto Rico and a dozen All Purple.

Also dug up a new bed in the garden and transplanted the hardy squash seedlings that had taken root in our compost bin.

As for the novel, about half-way through the first round of editing, it has gained two thousand words, despite shedding a lot of adjectives along the way. Likely a couple of rounds after this, before Editor is allowed a look. I don't like to pick a tale before it's ripe.

Friday, May 26, 2017


Tall waters are much preferable to tall buildings, in my opinion, and tall tales to long ones. We meet our aliveness navigating those streams that flow contrary to ordinary. The road to hell is undoubtedly paved and well marked.

Thursday, May 25, 2017



Tuesday, I had to spend the day down the mountain in the city. I wouldn't say everybody who wants to live there is crazy, but I would have to be crazy to want to live there.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017


Throughout my brief life, my most constant friends have been the creeks and streams along the Blue Wall between the Carolinas. I followed them as a child out of my Aunt Mary's yard below Standing Stone Mountain, up through Jones Gap into the Mountain Bridge Wilderness around Caesar's Head. In old age now, I regularly walk the road along Joel's Creek to the Missing Forty and my friend's house, and wander the Green River Gamelands along Cove Creek, where the Bradleys roar.

Since childhood, I've sought conversation with mountain waters, watched the fleeting lights on their faces, listened to their voices in all their changing moods. I hear their songs in my sleep, and one day soon, I will finally know the words they sing.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017


Upon our steep and stony road
When night is near, the waters cold,
Then all the stories that we’ve told
About the righteous and the bold,
All that our memories enfold
Remain the refuge of the old.

Monday, May 22, 2017

Live and learn...

The annual Saluda Arts Festival was in full swing when I walked down to Nostalgia Court for my weekly lesson at Feldenkrais Saluda. I've been taking Feldenkrais instruction for almost as many years as I've been married to a Feldenkrais teacher, with weekly lessons since moving to Saluda last year. 

While I can't say it has prevented the accumulating frailties and llmitations of aging, I can testify with assurance that Feldenkrais practice has enabled me to maximize my remaining capabilities, and use what I have left more efficiently, with greater ease and assurance, and less discomfort.