They Chose the Lucketts Fair

"Shoes, secret face of my inner life:" ~ Simic

What's Going On?

This photo posting has no other purpose but to make you smile . . .

We found the first stink bug in the house yesterday of the "fall" season -- surely autumn is afoot. School has started, there are yellow leaves across the ridge, and it was a mere 59 degrees this morning. But it's still dry and the afternoons get very warm. Summer hasn't gone far yet.

So, we have one more weekend before Labor Day weekend - that perennial end of summer. I'm spending a few moments thinking about how best to spend this last bastion of summertime. Of course, yard-sale-ing comes to mind. But I found out very quickly last weekend that an almost 7-year-old and 4 and a half-year-old are not kind shoppers at yard sales . . . only if I can go alone will that happen again. There's the Washington County Rural Heritage Museum's Spud Fest (at the Ag Center) at 11 a.m. I could see the girls getting into digging up some potatoes! And homemade chips sound yummy! A definite possibility. The Lucketts Fair in a nearby part of Virginia is also a real possibility. We've been before -- lots of vendors, great bluegrass, and good food. But if it's too hot, the yee ones will holler . . . we'll see how the thermometer bodes. If we don't make it tomorrow, there's always Sunday too. The last days of the Jefferson County Fair are this weekend; we've never been, so I'm not sure what we'd be missing not to go . . . I love a good fair, but nothing lives up to the fair I grew up knowing. I can taste those Hoffman milkshakes now . . . There's no way in heck that we'll be going out east to the Maryland State Fair -- I've only been once -- it is big and awesome, but it is way too far away for these tykes this weekend. Williamsport Days are this weekend -- definitely a possibility for some good yard-sale-ing -- just the thought of all those former students . . .
I would love to see Poor Ellen Smith at Beans in the Belfry tomorrow night, but that will never happen because instead we are going to have a very fine meal at the Potomac Valley Fire Department's Steak Feed!

I don't know why anyone would have read this far, but if you have, I really appreciate it! :)

Seriously, Let It Rain

We're trying to grow some new grass up here, and we've had surprisingly better luck than we thought we would have, considering the severe lack of rain this summer. The current radar looks like this:but lately even a screen like that turns up dry for us here in the Hollow. All summer long the storms have gone north and south of us, but we've hardly come up with a few drops. Here is a recent article in the Herald Mail in which an 80-year-old claims that this is the worst summer drought he can remember.

We have only had sweet corn twice this summer - once from a farmer on Mills Road - it was inedible! - and once from a farmer at the Shepherdstown Farmers' Market - it was okay. My inlaws claim that Britner Produce was out weeks ago and that he had to plow up scores of acres of dead spindly stalks.

I took this photo of the Hawks Hill just a bit ago:See the yellow leaves?! It's too early for those trees to be turning!

Wars Then and Now

I happened upon this article - well, an old letter that is explained by an article - and I'm not sure how it fits here today, but I hope you'll read it. It's the letter that a man wrote to a family member or friend about the passing of his soldier brother at Antietam. Not only are the letter and the accompanying article moving, but the comments by other readers below them bring much insight to my thoughts about it. I'm posting here some of the references alluded to by the commentators.

This poem is heart-wrenching:

"The Picket-Guard"
published in Harper's Weekly, 1861

"All quiet along the Potomac," they say,
"Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.
'T is nothing—a private or two, now and then,
Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost—only one of the men,
Moaning out, all alone, the death rattle."
All quiet along the Potomac to-night,
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming;
Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
Or the light of the watch-fires, are gleaming.
A tremulous sigh, as the gentle night wind
Through the forest leaves softly is creeping;
While stars up above, with their glittering eyes,
Keep guard—for the army is sleeping.
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And he thinks of the two in the low trundle-bed,
Far away in the cot on the mountain.
His musket falls slack; his face, dark and grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep,
For their mother,—may Heaven defend her!
The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then,
That night when the love yet unspoken
Leaped up to his lips—when low, murmured vows
Were pledged to be ever unbroken;
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
He dashes off tears that are welling,
And gathers his gun closer up to its place,
As if to keep down the heart-swelling.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree,—
The footstep is lagging and weary;
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light,
Toward the shade of the forest so dreary.
Hark! was it the night wind that rustled the leaves?
Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing?
It looked like a rifle—"Ha! Mary, good-by!"
And the life-blood is ebbing and plashing.
All quiet along the Potomac to-night,—
No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead,—
The picket's off duty forever.


Bob Dylan, among others, sang this song:

Two Soldiers

He was just a blue-eyed Boston boy
His voice was low with pain
"I'll do your bidding comrade mine
If I ride back again
But if you ride back and I am left
You'll do as much for me
Mother you know, must hear the news
So write to her tenderly."

"She's waiting at home like a patient saint
Her fond face pale with woe
Her heart will be broken when I am gone
I'll see her soon, I know"
Just then the order came to charge
For an instant hand touched hand
They said "Aye" and away they rode
That brave and devoted band.

Straight was the track to the top of the hill
The rebels they shot and shelled
Plowed furrows of death through the toilling ranks
And guarded them as they fell
There soon came a horrible dying yell
From heights that they could not gain
And those whom doom and death had spared
Rode slowly back again.

But among the dead that were left on the hill
Was the boy with the curly hair
The tall dark man who rode by his side
Lay dead beside him there
There's no one to write to the blue-eyed girl
The words that her lover had said
Momma, you know, awaits the news
And she'll only know he's dead.

Deeper Yet

SG and I had a great breakfast this morning at Bright Morning Inn in Davis, WV -- I had the Banana Dream French Toast and SG had toast and sausage; nothing with eggs for her still. We took a short walk around town - no walk around town would take very long anyway. Then, we headed to Canaan Valley proper where we got a Beat the Heat special room at Canaan Valley Resort for $70 or so. The room is not spectacular; as a matter of fact it reeks of old cigarette smoke, but the staff has been apologetic and came to spray something, and I figure I can't really complain too much with such a great price and a last minute grab like that. Of course, SG wanted to swim, so we have spent quite a bit of time at the indoor pool. We tried the outdoor pool but the heater is broken; it was way too cold, especially with only about 80 degree weather. We had lunch at Big John's Family Fixins restaurant (pretty decent) and then headed down south to beautiful Seneca Rocks. My dear four year old was only impressed for a short while; we quickly headed back to the pool. We ate dinner in the resort's Hickory Dining Room, which was a nice buffet - they served wine too. The view from the dining room was spectacular. Now, too early for partying girls like ourselves, we are crashing in front of the tv (which the Inn didn't have for us in our room) watching too many episodes of iCarly. I hear that the deer will walk right up to guests at dusk around here, but I don't think this kid can handle that much drama tonight. We have a long ride back to 'civilization' tomorrow.

Deeper into Appalachia

Today SG and I started on our first adventure alone together; we have landed in Tucker County, WV - more specifically at Bright Morning Inn in Davis. Our ride took us first to Emily's to drop off Sylvie for her first overnight (two!) with Paige. We then headed west on 50 through Hampshire, Grant, Mineral, and then Tucker Counties. We noticed that yard sales are very popular along the route; I'm pretty sure we passed at least fifty of them, but we stopped at none. The GPS took me up over Saddle Mountain (elevation over 2800 feet) instead of down 93, which resulted in an anxious drive up a very long mountain with impressive views. The most jaw-dropping part of our ride was the string of huge windmills across the ridges near here. We were both awed by the size and motion of the strange things. These new forms of energy were contrasted against the two towering stacks of the Mt. Storm power company and the vast swaths of clear-cut mountaintops for mining. Apparently, the lake at Mt. Storm is very warm and many swim and scuba dive in it. We finally popped into little Davis - a tiny hamlet with virtually no trees. Our pretty inn sits right in the middle of town across the street from Hellbender's, a burrito place, and a new yet-to-be-named ice cream shop. Our innkeeper was out getting a burger when we first got here, so we went over to the Blackwater Falls State Park to check it out. We visited the Lodge, which boasts an impressive view of the gorge out front. Then, we took the "gentle trail" for a high overlook of the Falls and realized we had to go to the other side of the gorge for the better view. So, we did and 214 steps later found an up close and beautiful view of the waterfall. We quickly checked out the campground for future reference and then headed back to check in. Later, we drove over the Thomas (only 2 miles away) to get dinner at the Purple Fiddle, a place that I've been wanting to visit for years. It lived up to my expectations - perfect for the hippie traveler in me - and SG liked it too. We didn't stick around for the live music (whom we saw warming up and setting up - the lady, Sue, thought SG was adorable), which they have virtually every night, but we did indulge in a salad, a quesadilla, a local brew (me), and the best mocha ice cream we've ever eaten. I loved the eclectic decor, the outdoor seating, and the fresh healthy menu. It's known for being kid-friendly, and SG indeed fell in love with our server, whom she called Cowgirl - a pasty but pretty dark-haired twenty-something in a long skirt and riding boots; she spoke with a drawl thicker than these parts, and SG LOVED her. Back in our room, I have found the wi-fi to be unbearably unreliable, but the bed is nice, and I kind of like hearing the street noise through the open window. Tomorrow I think we'll stay in Canaan so SG can use the pool. We'll be taking it as it comes . . .

A Shell of a Poem

The locusts pulsate and pulse and soundtrack this thick twilight --
Your long little legs skip - I didn't know you could skip - across the straw so confidently.
The other you, you with the serious look, I wonder if you'll have this in your memory when you're 38.
The locusts buzz in my younger ears too -- the farm, the lightning bugs, the gnarled apple tree --
To capture this moment - those moments - in words -- will they then last into all our twilights?

Frog Hollow Girl at the Fair

Memorial Day 2010 in Sharpsburg

I can't think of a better place to remember the sacrifices many have made for our country . . .

Back Home

We were away for the long weekend in NY to see my sister and help her move in to their new home. The ride was long, but we were glad to have been able to go. True to form, SG did not sleep a wink at any moment on either the ride up or back. Sylv caught quite a few zzzz's on the way back.Today we visited G's parents while the cousins were there. The girls enjoyed an hour wading ankle deep in the "branch" that etched out their part of the Hollow over the millennia. Of course, I didn't have a camera . . .

Later today between killings of stink bugs, we tried out the kites that the Easter Bunny brought us in the motel room in NY. Unfortunately, there was no wind. According to G, there is never wind enough here to fly kites. Again, I didn't have a camera.

Now is the time of year that we hunt mountain morel, a wonderful seasonal fungi that scares the bejesus out of my mother . . . G went out a bit earlier and only found a tiny one, which he didn't pick -- thus, I have no picture for you. His mom and aunt have been out a few times while we were gone, and they too only found small ones. We hope this just means a slow start and not a bad season. It was such a wet winter and now the weather is so very warm -- it should be perfect 'shroom conditions!

Hope in the Next Generation

When we were going to and coming from WV today, we spied these young folks cleaning out the plastic from the debris field dammed up behind the Ironworks bridge on the Antietam Creek. The clogging is a result of the March 14-15th flooding, and it truly is a horrible sight to see. Not only is there a ton of logs and sticks, but there are virtually thousands of plastic bottles and other trash stuck in the mess. These three told us that they are from Shepherdstown; I'm not sure if they're students at the college, but we are truly grateful to them -- should have been us too out there stuffing bags. Really, we should all be this concerned about our watershed.

Hollow Happenings

I tried to get the girls up today to go to Palm Sunday service at Aunt Barb and Uncle Harry's church this morning, but staying to watch Daddy and Kelly Moore move the shed was just too much more interesting! G has plans to make the back area more level in order to put in a carport/pavilion and eventually a pool to the south side, so the shed had to be moved.

Mary Black, the stray outdoor cat who adopted us and whom SG named, has shown up this morning! She was gone for three days, and we thought perhaps she had encountered the mountain lion that supposedly attacked several of Ronnie Harrell's goats -- either that feline or the coyote that George spotted in the front yard several weeks ago . . . I have witnessed neither feral animal, but many in the neighborhood have. We're wondering how more lives dear MB has . . . and, no, she's not welcome in the house -- we're all allergic!

First the Flood, Then the Flowers

This will be a photo post:
These flood pix are from Sunday, March 14, 2010 - Antietam Creek at the Ironworks Bridge


This pic is at Molly's Hole on Antietam Creek (Burnside Bridge Road) -- it did open the next day so that we could take a reasonable ride to school. Harpers Ferry Road was still closed on Monday.
This pic is from across the river in WV - directly across from around Dargan Bend.
This photo is from the railroad station in Harpers Ferry -- you're looking at the confluence.This pic was taken Tuesday, March 16, 2010, from the Antietam Ironworks Bridge -- that's one disgusting mess and it's still there. Yuck.These post-flood pix were taken Wednesday, March 17, 2010, along Canal Road --

Thank God the yellow flowers are here! Winter, you've been too long in the Hollow!!