Shout-Out to North Georgia girl's blog: Just Another Story

Here's a quick plug for a North Georgia girl...

Her blog, Just Another Story, has nostalgic memories of Christmas in the South and other stories:

Just Another Story
http://www.nrthgagirl.com/

Manly Wade Wellman, Rediscovered

I have a book of short stories, in which is my favorite ghost story, "Where Angels Fear," by Manly Wade Wellman. The book is Hauntings: Tales of the Supernatural, edited by Henry Mazzeo and illustrated by Edward Gorey. This was a favorite old book. My sister and I had traded it back and forth for twenty years, panicking if we thought one or the other had lost it. (We now have back-ups!)

Because of the short story, I searched for other writings by Manly Wade Wellman, and boy, did I hit the Mother Lode! Turns out, he did quite a bit of writing in and of the Appalachian mountains, though his roots lay more in a curious mixture of African and British culture. I just read What Dreams May Come. I enjoyed it, but feel that I really need to do some research in legend and lore to get the full gist of it. Now I'm reading short stories of Appalachian folklore in The Valley So Low. I've only read two stories so far, but feel richly rewarded. Interesting writer!

Biographical website: http://www.manlywadewellman.com/

Old Weathered Cabins

I don't know what it was about the old gray, weathered cabins of the Appalachian mountains. Maybe it was that, in the early 1970s, they were already an image out of their own time and place. Maybe we subconsciously saw that in them. Or maybe it was just the visual drama of them, so stark and skeletal, among the red clay hills; velvet-black on rainy days. The red of the roof matched the clay, but it was the red of rust, not of paint. I don't want to think it was simple nostalgia. There was nostalgia, but it was a lonesomeness for a kind of life that was fading before our eyes. Every old, black cottage that we passed on the rural roads reminded us of our own kin. They stilled lived in those cabins. We would go to visit, only a few times a year; and to us kids, it was the novelty of the thing. It was a strange, new thing, to pump water by hand, to pull the rope in the old cistern and haul up dripping buckets of water; to sit and listen to our great-grandfather and uncles play the fiddle and the banjo; to eat the chicken-and-dumplings and chocolate gravy and biscuits and other rare treats of our great aunts and grandmother's cooking. We marvelled that the outhouse, a strange, mysterious and somewhat spooky place to us, was an everyday, matter-of-fact utility of theirs. What we didn't know was that we were seeing the last of Appalachia. We didn't see them going, but they went. They went the way of the American Chestnut, that Appalachian giant that I never saw, but only heard about from my elders. First went the old covered bridges; then, the rickety paved ones, that provided so much dangerous glee when we were teens in our first cars, and knew no better than to get up a good speed in anticipation of a breathtaking, roller coaster leap that would separate chassis from suspension, if only for a moment. Then the cabins, as they gave way to cozy, trim little cedar-sided and brick houses. The old barns, that used to be everywhere, and of such different designs, quietly disappeared from the landscape. We didn't notice as they disappeared, but we noticed when nearly all of them were gone. And finally, the people. Stern old women in faded sunbonnets and shapeless dresses... wiry, leathery old men in overalls, chewing tobacco and talking of sourwood honey. They, too, existed in such stark contrast to the bustling, chrome-plated and freshly painted world that sprang up around them. It was the dawn of the age of personal computers and cellular phones, but even we didn't see that (that was still a Star Trek fantasy). Those sturdy, coarse-yet-dignified personalities ~ seemingly as strong and ancient and enduring as the mountains themselves ~ simply disappeared as quietly as the old barns and cabins.

The oil painting of the old cabin (above) was perhaps my first landscape. I was only 15 or 16, and it was painted from memory, not direct observation. The details of the overalls on the clothesline, the broom, and the old outhouse, were sentimental, to be sure; the mountains lack form; but the depth and strength of the red clay and cobalt blue hills seem true to me even now.

Thunderstorm!

"The bottom just dropped out!" That's the way Mama would say it, when it came a big thunderstorm. "It rained like all get-out!" I don't know where she got that saying. Appalachian people never say a thing plain when they can embellish the words. The rain on our tin roof sounds like a loud roar, but wonderful in this time of drought. This kind of thunderstorm usually comes in the summertime. It rages and roars and the lightning flashes, wild. There's no fear ~ it's not a tornado. (We get tornadoes in spring.) I don't dread a storm. I love it!

Thunderstorms make me think of Huckleberry Finn, and the wonderful way that Twain describes the thunderstorms on Jackson's Island, when "it rained like all fury," and it "would get so dark that it looked all blue-black outside, and lovely; and the rain would thrash along by so thick that the trees off a little ways looked dim and spider-webby." (Chapter IX)

We get the most wonderful thunderstorms in North Georgia, and flash floods that cause the mountain ravines to resound with crashing water. Our storm came quickly, dumped buckets of water on us, and faded quietly, as quickly as it came. Now there's just the soothing sound of raindrops and the glad knowledge that Muskrat Creek, all summer-dry and stagnant, will once again echo through these cobalt blue hills.

Praters Mill ~ Varnell, GA

Prater's Mill was this past weekend, and the weather was beautiful. We did the booth for Whitfield-Murray Historical Society ~ sold some history books and raffled off a painting. We set up in the mill. The Busy Bee Quilters raffled a quilt. The Busy Bee Raffle is a Prater's Mill tradition ~ they've raffled a quilt every year since the 1970's! They also work on quilts during the festival. This year, it was a pretty, embroidered quilt, with a design of kittens.

There were some nice crafts at Prater's Mill: wonderful hand-wrought silver-and-gemstone jewelry and some lovely handmade pocketbooks. I think the blacksmith was there ~ I had to tour quickly and get back to our booth. I didn't see as many traditional appalachian booths. They used to have people with big iron pots of boiled corn and kettle corn (popcorn). They did have some great food vendors, though, including pit-cooked Southern barbecue, funnel cakes, and Cajun jambalaya.

The fine arts didn't make much of a showing. There weren't many painters. The ones I saw were photo-realists, with Southern scenes as their subjects. One had some nice paintings of Chattanooga's Walnut Street pedestrian bridge (over the Tennessee River).

Even though we set up in the mill, I didn't get a chance to take the tour. I always enjoy it ~ I love to watch the flour and meal being ground, and look out over the millpond. I hope to go again next year, and take my time looking over the booths!

Spring Place Community Festival, August 18th

Chatsworth, Georgia:

The 10th Annual Spring Place Community Festival is coming up, August the 18th. This is a small but nice, old-fashioned community festival, with a "country" atmosphere. It is held annually in Spring Place community, west of Chatsworth, Georgia (not too far from the Chief Vann House, south of it on Hwy. 225).

This is a small festival, but packed with great events. I don't have all the details, but last year featured an antique automobile show for the first time, and I think this year will do the same.
There's always an auction of goods donated by local businesses and community members ~ usually prints, paintings, and sets of books and coins, as well as household items. You never know what they'll have, and the auction is fun to watch.

They usually have a bake sale. (Community festivals that have bake sales are my absolute favorites ~ I always stuff myself silly on pecan pie, chocolate-chip cookies, and homemade fudge ~ can't eat dessert for the rest of the year!) Indoors is a bookstore, featuring new and used books donated by community members. Whitfield-Murray Historical Society also has
books for sale, featuring local authors on Murray County history. There's also a country store set up inside, with homemade jams, jellies, and handicrafts. They also have a great indoor flea market with antiques, collectibles and household items. I have found some wonderful treasures there in the past, at real flea-market prices.

This is one of my favorite rummage sales! There are a few arts-and-crafts booths, with local crafters. Outside are other vendors and concessions, so you won't go hungry. As always, they'll have several raffles of handmade crafts and goods donated by community members.
Volunteers are needed and welcomed. They usually need someone to help with rummage, help set up tables and booth, etcetera. The date for this year's festival is Saturday, August 18th, 2007, from 8 a.m. until 2 p.m. Come early so you won't miss the auction
and other events!

For locations, directions and more detail on past events, go to:
http://www.southernmuse.com/southern/spf_about.html

Appalachian Wagon Train Parade, July 6th, 2007

Chatsworth, Georgia: It's Wagon Train time! Every year, 'round about the 4th of July, everybody pours into town to see the wagon train. The festival started June 28th and will continue on through July 8th. There's a week's worth of events, with rodeos, barrel racing, horse shows, livestock auctions, you name it ~ If there's a horse, mule or wagon involved, it goes! One of the main events is the wagon-train parade, down the main street of Chatsworth, Georgia. That event will be on July 6th, 2007 at 6:00 p.m. They used to head on over to Ellijay by horseback, but I'm not sure if they do that anymore. Murray County Saddle Club sponsors this event. This year is the 47th annual event!

Fort Mountain, Chatsworth, Georgia.

[Photo has been retouched for color.]