Posts Tagged 'places'


the location part of a datebook chelsi gave mom. we’re each marked in hearts…i’m the sticky note.




with an hour to spare this evening, i decided to spend it in the pines of my papa’s farm in south georgia. as i followed the path that leads to the tall trees i started pondering all the memories i’ve gathered there. as a child i would get dropped off by bus 16AA and run down the half-mile dirt path to home. i’d throw my bookbag in the house and fetch my horse, sox…lead her to the ceramic tub that was her water trough and sling onto her bareback before trotting off to this very same area of the farm that i walked now. i loved those afternoons.

my first horse, sassy, had thrown me head-first over her ears and onto a log after getting her belly tickled by the long grass that grows between the trees. i’d picked corn back there and pretended it was gold. i’d brought my grade-school crush back to see the okapilco creek only to get nervous and punch him in the gut. i’ve spent hours and hours back there – it definitely has legendary status in my mind. another world altogether.

walking through the rows of 50foot trees i pondered their power over me. they feel so alive, standing there watching me walk through their midst. like columns of soldiers, standing at attention ready to protect or attack – waiting on my intentions to decide which.

as i walk and think to the rhythm of my steps and the pace of the trees i finally actually used my eyes – and realized they were staring straight at another thing that truly was alive. a bobcat – staring right back at me. i stopped and stared for a few moments before side-stepping to a big stick to my left. i stared for a few more moments before picking up the exact same pace…but this time not focused on the trees. my eyes were locked to the bobcat’s the rest of the time, until we could no longer see one another. it was so strange – we were both just watching to see what the other would do. a mutual understanding that we were both being protected by those very same bark-covered soldiers.

as i came out of the woods i met my uncle joey on the tractor and told him what i’d seen. he shook his head and informed me that he never goes back there without a gun and that i should be more careful. this is all probably true, but i’m glad i got away with it this once – just trusting that i’d be fine with the tall tall georgia pines at my rescue.

south georgia christmas


the ice on the trees (on EVERYTHING) in southern iowa —>

stepping out of the house at gramma’s first thing after gettting off the road…the stars and the smell of pecans and country soil

falling asleep on my feather bed looking up at my 14-year-old-self’s ceiling of glow in the dark stars, and surrounded by my many unicorns. i’ve always loved the fantastic.

mom constantly threatening (believe me, it’s not an empty threat) to “pinch stevie’s hiney”. steve is my oldest sister’s husband. that’s weird, right?

convertable rides in mom’s cabrio on christmas eve ———————>

mrs. marilyn’s sweet tea and the smell of the tea olive trees in her yard

<—- the ridiculous extent to which my mom and stepdad spoil their new-ish dog, prissa. (or priscetta, as my mother calls her)

walking around the downtown square complete with christmas carols playing and a wonderfully eccentric woman who took photos for us and showed us her long-johns

christmas breakfast on the porch at gramma’s in short sleeves

a long walk….and a long nap

the 16-layer cake gramma kept hidden so she could ration it out

walking home under the bright south georgia stars through fields and ponds and wonderful sounds and smells. i love the farm…




Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children.
-Kahlil Gibran

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