a Christmas poem

a Christmas poem/family letter by Madison

Twas the year of 2016, when all through the US,

The Scott family was living their lives to the fullest.

The family each living where they would best succeed,

In hopes that all their dreams would be achieved.

The children wrestled with their busy lives,

While Mom & Dad were hoping we’d thrive.

And Mom in her tacky sweater, and Dad wanting to go fishing,

Had completed another year of empty nesting.

When in Kennesaw, Sarah fills out applications for work,

Spring graduation approaches and we all go berserk,

Away to Disney Matt & Sarah went for a short time,

Matt now works at Automated Logic and this needs to rhyme.

The moon on the roof of Kyle & Allison’s new home,

Revealed Kyle’s urge to not roam.

After a work trip off to the west coast,

Kyle realized he loved Georgia the most.

As she explores life & spreads her wings

To Jasper Racheal moved all of her things.

She finds happiness working with food,

Her dog, Mila, and cat, BoJack, think Isaiah is one cool dude.

“Now, Sarah! Now, Kyle! Now, Racheal and Madison!

On, Matt! On, Allison! On Isaiah and Curren!

To Kennesaw, Georgia! To Tuscaloosa, Alabama!

Roll Tide, Roll Tide, and Rammer Jammer!”

As Madison begins her break from school,

She reminisces over how this year was pretty cool.

Swimming with manatees, being an orientation leader, and going skydiving,

She’s onto her next adventure and thriving.

And then, in a twinkling, Thanksgiving drew near,

The family came together only a few times this year.

As we all grow up and live life on our own,

The love of being a child again has really shown.

We all dress in aprons as we make our annual Christmas treats,

Taking breaks to stare at our phones & eat all the sweets.

As I settle on the couch after a moving back here,

I may or may not have shed a few tears.

The tree how it twinkled! The decorations how merry!

Being an adult is actually kind of scary!

With a family like this, it’s easy to be happy,

Sorry, this letter is getting pretty sappy.

2016 has had a few bumps and roadblocks,

Mom got laid off, which sucked, but got a new job, which rocks!

She remodeled her home office which made her smile,

Let’s see if the house will stay the same for a while.

The empty nester’s itch made Mom & Dad stir crazy,

So they tried new things and tried not to be lazy.

A few vacations and trips helped calm the itch,

If you want to try out Cryology, they might give you the pitch.

This year has been filled with family weddings and new babies,

Now Mom & Dad are itching for grandbabies.

Don’t worry about that, it’s not going to happen for a while,

But who knows maybe the first will come from Kyle.

If you enjoy the updates, don’t worry they can come year round,

Madison & Sarah both have writings to be found!

I hope you’ve enjoyed this year’s letter,

Hopefully next year it’ll only get better!

As the Scott family all returns home for the holidays,

We look back on the events of 2016 in a daze.

Oh, yeah, let’s not forget that Mom hit a deer.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a happy New Year!

clothesline

i you us them those people wouldn't it be lovely if one could live in a constant state of we? some of the most commonplace words can be some of the biggest dividers they what if there was no they? what if there was only us? if words could be seen as they floated out of our mouths would we feel no shame as they passed beyond our lips? if we were to string our words on a communal clothesline would we feel proud as our thoughts flapped in the breeze?
~Marilyn Maciel, "clothesline"


What is on your clothesline?  homemade Beautiful quilts or sheets flapping in the fresh air or baby diapers being brightened by the sun? Or do you air your dirty laundry for all to see? Are you proud of the words that float out of your mouth?


~"clothesline" used with permission of the poet
~published in Life is a Verb by Patti Digh

rainy day playlist

the thunder rolls

as morning has broken

here in the beach house

watching Pandora pong

back and forth on the tv

a modern day mixed tape

listening to a playlist

based on our favorite artist

thank god he's a country boy

I wonder what John thinks

of sharing air time with the rocket man

and piano man and sweet baby James

lyrics that were written back

when songs told stories

maybe he is smiling down

along with Croce and Harrison

glad that their tunes

are still alive and well

morning has broken

as the thunder rolls

listening to snippets of old songs

makes me smile

and sad at the same time

some good ones gone too soon

if only I could save time in a bottle

or sail through the changin' ocean tides

or feel the sunshine on my shoulders

look! here comes the sun

a happy quilt

Fresh by Mary Giacomini

Fine Art America

(used with permission of artist)

a happy quilt is soft from many washings

a little frayed around the edges - are your quilts happy?

you receive a handmade quilt for a gift

what to do - what if it gets dirty or damaged

better to just store it away

safe from dust and light and pets

and kids and life.... please don't!

maybe it starts out displayed on the wall or couch,

over time ends up in the guest room or linen closet,

laid on the floor for a baby to crawl on,

back to the couch to cover sick ones,

even dragged around at times

as the years go by the transition

is made from being a 'good quilt'

to the 'go-to quilt' for family adventures

thrown into the back of the car for road trips

and impromptu picnics and sandy beaches

as it grows even older it becomes faded

has stains and wrinkles and even a few holes

it is just getting good now, really soft

it might even end up as a dog bed

a happy quilt indeed

a happy quilt does not live in a cedar chest or plastic tote

it wants to be washed and cuddled and loved

so don't protect it from life

use it, love it, let it lead a full and happy life and

become part of your family memories

spring

vernal equinox, the first day of spring, once again

a.k.a. Here Comes the Sun!

how we look forward to this every year

the end of cold weather

the hope of sunny days

the first day of spring, once again

like the bright blooms that pop out of the ground

it is time to come out of hibernation

and enter the world once again

the world outside work and these four walls

the first day of spring

this day reminds me that time is passing by so fast

is there anything but work to do

are there no trails calling my name

is there no beach waiting for my footprints

spring

the first day

of the rest of my life

is here, is calling,

is today!

independence day

Independence Day

a.k.a. Kyle's moving away

the day is finally here

the one you've been waiting for

independence ∙ on your own

your first apartment

no curfew ∙ no one watching

don't go!

no one telling you what to do

no one telling you right from wrong

you know what is right

you know what to do

it is up to you now

must you go?

be safe

I wish you still had your helmet

and training wheels

so you wouldn't get hurt

and a boundary of yard

and driveway to keep you safe

round and round you would go

I wish your wheels

still just went round in circles

instead of out and away

but it is time to move on

no boundaries now

if you must go...

looks aren't everything

don’t be defined by things

be yourself ∙ be genuine

it's what's on the inside that counts

which one learns by being stranded

on the side of the road in a really cool-looking car

stay don’t go!

get a job and work real hard

pay your bills and rent on time

study lots and make good grades

learn to shop and cook

to save some dough

if you have to go…

cooking at granma's

every once in a while

take your eyes off the phone/TV/laptop

take a break ∙ take a deep breath

look around ∙ count your blessings

take a walk ∙ take a hike

can I go?

don't let the laundry or dishes pile up

keep the gas tank and pantry full

don’t run out of soap or shampoo or TP

call your mom often just because

some granma advice

for when you go

call me if you are in a ditch or in a bind

or if you need advice or a recipe or a hug

call me with good news or bad

or don’t call me at all

but a text would be nice

do you really have to go?

call your mom

if you need a home cooked meal

or bargain shopping tips

or help with financial aid

or homework or just to vent

then call your mom

you don't really have to go...

driving on life's highway

watch out for the other guy

be prepared for anything

just keep it between the lines

buckle up and stay grounded

it's time to go…

wheels go on the ground

be strong ∙ be safe ∙ be smart

be good ∙ have fun

don't forget I know where you live

and please don't forget that you

know where I live

bye for now, Kyle

enjoy your freedom!

love, granma Susan

keep smiling!

Watch your thoughts, they become words.

Watch your words, they become actions.

Watch your actions, they become habit.

Watch your habits, they become character.

Watch your character, it becomes your destiny.

~Lao Tzu

sacred ground

Cartecay Methodist Church c. 1859

Last weekend Sue and I were out and about looking for things we had read about in the book An Appalachian Childhood. We found the old home place on our road, and a grave site of one of the people in the book at nearby Cartecay Methodist cemetery. 

We also found this marker for a slave, one in a row of such markers in the middle of the cemetery - which makes one wonder about their placement there, was it a prominent family in the church whose slaves are buried here, was there a big controversy at the time about it?

A walk through the cemetery brought up some interesting conversation about personal burial wishes and the tradition of flowers on graves and visitation.

And how back in 1982 my father-in-law and husband used a transit to plot out the cemetery at Cartecay Methodist and made this map on plywood.

"The coordinate lines for this plot were made by Felton Tidwell and Buddy Tidwell then transferred on to this plyboard with adjustments in the width of the board and showing the approximate location of existing graves, buildings, drive ways, filled areas (in red), Old Cemetery sketch, and deed records. By U. S. Worley 1982"

Did you know that a lot of cemeteries have been listed online, you can look up specific names and find a picture of the grave at Find a Grave.com, great for genealogy and for just looking up folks. 

I took this opportunity to ask Sue if she had made any arrangements or had any wishes for her final resting place. She had quite a few wishes and I urged her to share them with her children now. She mentioned, "just bury me neath the old cherry tree" and for some reason that phrase stuck in my head, it sounded like a song lyric or a poem, and eventually it turned into one:

just bury me

neath the old cherry tree

that tree up on the hill

brings a smile to my face

'cause I can still see my dad there

at his favorite place

don't send my ashes into the wind

drop from a plane, sprinkle or spread

or wash down stream,

but plant me in the ground instead

I want to be bound to the earth

not displayed in a vase

I want to be one with the land

anchored to this, my home place

a fitting last home for me, I believe

is a wooden box with a blend

of my ashes and dust and

a little sawdust mixed in

just carve out a hole

in this Georgia red clay

place my box made of wood

and mark the spot where I lay

please just bury me

neath the old cherry tree

are we there yet?

♫ all my bags are packed, I'm ready to go ♫

the anticipation is over
we are finally read to go
from Georgia to points west on
that long and winding road

backpacks and hiking boots
brought out of hiding
trails mapped to glaciers and geysers
sunshine on my shoulders makes me high

following in the footsteps
of explorers and tree huggers
down country roads
and under wild Montana skies

counting stars
from camping chairs
by the campfire listening to the
sounds of silence

iconic western mountains
with presidents cut in stone
and close encounters of aliens
they need wide open spaces

truck pulls our home on wheels
food and clothes and bed and books
even the kitchen sink
see the USA in a Chevrolet!

snippets of songs
play in my mind on my
road trip mixed tape

♫ on the road again
just can't wait to get on the road again ♫




Our 5 week Wild West Road Trip a.k.a. sabbatical begins now! Travel along with us, check back for updates and pictures often, we'll see y'all later!

nature's bling

oh to be a maple leaf
born anew each spring
sun dappled and wind blown
summer shade I bring

my finest season closes
with one last colorful show
green, yellow, orange, and red
before I wither and go

the tree of life lets go my grasp
on this my final day
beside a forest hiking trail
is where I want to lay

oh to be a maple leaf
born anew next spring
looking forward to the fall
to shine as nature's bling

the last sugar cookie

there was that one pit-of-stomach moment
when she turned the calendar to October 25th
(just 2 months til Christmas!)
but it is just October, plenty of time

for now just enjoy the lazy days of autumn
the cooler weather and changing leaves

in the background
or is in the back of her mind?
there is a faint
click click click
kind of like a clock ticking
but more like the sound
when a roller coaster starts up that first hill
when the combined feelings
of dread and anticipation
threaten to take over

Halloween is a welcome distraction
happy little faces at the door

but the very next day
the calendar tells the story
the first day of November

oh no how did this happen
it can't be November already
she is not ready

but it is too late
she is at the precipice
teetering on the edge
falling
tumbling down down
like Alice in the rabbit hole
or Dorothy's house in the tornado
everything is going by so fast
is that pumpkin pie she smells
what are all those colored lights

finally she ends up
coming to an abrupt halt
in the bog
between Christmas and New Years
she looks around disoriented
and finds herself surrounded
by crumpled wrapping paper
and empty gift boxes

she turns to get her bearings
the house is quiet
is that a Christmas tree?

What happened to Thanksgiving
and did I miss Christmas?

the dishwasher hums in the background
washing away the last remnants of Christmas dinner

her eyes fix on a plate of cookie crumbs
on the hearth left from santa
the one lone sugar cookie with sprinkles looks so tasty
she reaches for it, takes a bite, and thinks
is this all there is left of Christmas
one stale sugar cookie?

the couch looks inviting and she is so tired
as she lays down she thinks
it is just as well she missed it

she doesn't like this time of year much anyway
all that cooking and shopping
and worrying about money
and wondering if anyone will like their gifts

she wakes up, confused, and looks around
instead of piles of opened presents
the clean laundry is stacked up
around her on the couch

where is the tree
and the leaves outside are just turning colors...
was it all a dream?

is there still time to make the holidays
fun and memorable and meaningful?

she finds some paper and starts making a list
the menu for Thanksgiving dinner, a grocery list

maybe some homemade gifts this year?

and baking with the kids
sugar cookies with sprinkles
lots of sugar cookies

~Susan Tidwell 2009

parting ways

hiking partners for many years,
they walk along hand in hand
when they reach an unexpected fork

she squeezes his hand one last time
and says, Go, find what you seek
and watches as he fades from sight

she walks alone for the first time,
discovering her own pace
no longer a follower

as the space widens between their paths
she finds herself looking forward to
what lies around that next bend

she is drawn to the peace of the trail
the forest envelops her, the cool breeze
is her companion now

will their paths ever cross again
or were they just two people
who shared a trail for a while


~ photo Smoky Mountain hiking trail

sunrise senses

sitting on the deck
waiting on the sun to rise

feel the coffee warming my hands
cool wind on my face

listen to the birds, squirrels,
distant rat a tat tat of woodpecker

see the moon setting on one side
as the first rays peek over the ridge
colors light up the sky

a time to reflect and appreciate
all that I see and have and do and am

what is this day
not the plastic baskets at the store
or the new dresses and shoes and bonnets
or the egg hunts after church
green grass stains on new white shoes
and chocolate on lace dresses

but this
peace and beauty of nature
at my own personal sunrise service

round and round

Sometimes life is like a turntable
Going round and round
Eat, sleep, work, day in and day out
SSDD

Sometimes life is like a broken record
Skipping over the good parts
Maybe stomping the floor will help
To get things back on track

Sometimes life is like a record player
Set on the wrong speed
Either flying along at 78
Or just a mellow 33, what will today be

Sometimes life is like a warped record
With bumps along the way
It could make for a fun ride
If you have a warped attitude

Sometimes life is like a scratched record
Watch out for those little glitches
Maybe a stack of pennies
On my head will fix this one

Sometimes life is like a turntable
Going round and round
Eat, sleep, work, day in and day out
SSDD



Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net

our Older sister

Has it really been 6 years since your big 60th birthday party? Let's see, that would make your age...

Do you remember the party your loving family gave you? Do you remember the coffin and baby pictures and rocking chair and all those friends and family who came to see how you were holding up?

Remember when...

Remember having Anthem,
and only one dog and one cat?
Remember Buddy with long hair
and always a hat?

Remember a tall dark stranger
riding up your drive?
Remember him meeting the folks -
will he survive?

Remember simpler times,
simpler ways, the PK days?
Remember vacations,
honeymoons, and chalets?

Remember our Disney World
camping trip?
Remember cookouts, hamburgers,
and potato chips?

Remember being pregnant
at the same time?
Remember our life-changing
year of '79?

Remember the adoption
you signed up for?
Remember hearing 'It's a girl!'
at the grocery store?

Remember watching
our babies play together?
Remember wishing
for good camping weather?

Remember the parenting
class we took?
Remember bandaids and pets
and story books?

Remember picnicking
at Fall Creek Falls?
Remember playpens,
highchairs, and overalls?

Remember hiking trips
and shopping trips?
Remember car seats
and tents that drip?

Remember Thanksgiving dinners
and Christmas Eve nights?
Remember security blankets,
sleepers, and nightlights?

Remember when I had
no sister named Kay?
I do, and I
just want to say,

I'm glad you're
my sister til the end
But just as much,
I'm glad you're my friend.

~Susan Tidwell 2002


Happy Birthday, Kay!

from your sister and friend

Love, Susan

connecting threads

I don't know where
the fabric came from
possibly flour sacks
collected over the years
or scraps from old clothes

I don't know when
my grandmother started this quilt
or how long it took to cut out those
648 diamond-shaped pieces
all by hand

I don't know if
she was unable to finish it
or was it part of a great cosmic plan
so I would get to
finish what she started

I do know that
she was my grandmother
my father's mother
I was her last granddaughter
this was her last quilt

I know that she left it for me
just a Lone Star
waiting to be batted and lined
and quilted and bound
an heirloom from her to me, her namesake

I know that it is finally done
Grandmother, "You can
take it off your list
of unfinished projects now!"
so can I, sorry it took me so long

I know that more than just a quilt top
was handed down
you also taught me patience
and respect for all the work
that goes into a quilt

I wish I could have known you better
I wish we could have
quilted this one together
sitting side by side
at a quilting frame

Thank you
for the beautiful quilt
for the time it took to piece it together
for the love stitched into each seam
for the threads connecting us together

photos:
~finished Lone Star quilt hanging from the deck 28 February 2008
~1954 Grandmother Susan (aka Mama Austin) and me on the porch in McDonough, Georgia
~quilt label by local embroidery artist, Sandy Maynard

impatience

the sun was warm
and set me free
the first one out
for all to see

but what is this
so white and cold
why is the breeze
so crisp and bold

what have i done
what did i find
let me back in
i changed my mind

~photo 27 February 2008 - the first forsythia bloom of the season has a unexpected snowy welcome on Burnt Mountain

~featured on Georgia Blog Carnival #30

cold weather captives

my toes are prisoners
of boots and sox
never seeing
the light of day

they wonder what
have they done wrong
to be locked up
this way

will they ever again
have any fun
walk on the beach
bask in the sun

can they expect
a pardon soon
or plan an escape
by light of moon

or should they just wait
to be set free
with time spent dreaming
of sand and sea




~photo Florida vacation 9 September 2007

images of autumn

Soon
the forest bling
will all be gone

down to
the bare bones
of winter
here in the woods

a time to
close up
snuggle down
hibernate

images
of autumn
to remember

Maggie
keeping warm
on the hottub

fall leaves
on the deck

one lonely rocker

moonlight

decorating for Halloween
the full moon is just over the trees
the cobwebs are in all the corners
a fire is in the woodstove
the leaves are piling up on the steps
the porch light is on
and the candy is being tested

~moon seen from my desk this morning,
photo taken from the deck last full moon on 27 September 2007

the way home

when we first found this old farm road, we went to the top of the hill and declared that this would be a great place for a house

it has not changed much over the years, a dirt and gravel lane
the old blue tractor keeps it in shape, smooths out the bumps

when there is not a drought, the perpetual puddle in the curve gives it character

stray dogs and cats have made their way up the drive looking for food and company, many have stayed - Dolly and Clifford come to mind

new babies made their first trip to their new home

many steps have been made from the school bus to the house, kicking rocks or picking flowers along the way

scars prove it is not practical for bicycles or scooters or skateboards

kids of all ages have sledded on its snow

daughters have learned to drive on it, the trees could tell some stories

there have been 4-wheelers ridden up and down, first by kids, now by grandkids

prom dates have made their way up the country drive, panicked at the dust on their newly waxed cars

moving trucks filled with boxes and a lifetime of memories have traveled out and back again

the familiar crunch of gravel on the tires is a welcome sound, a sign to sleeping children in the back seat to wake up

it changes with the seasons, a row of daffodils in the spring, or lined with rhododendron blooms in the summer

as the seasons change, it is littered with acorn shells, piled with colorful leaves, and eventually may be frosted with a layer of white snow

in November folks come up the driveway from near and far, inlaws and outlaws, to share turkey dinner

our connection to the outside world, there is no gate, all are welcome

whenever away from home - whether just to town, or gone on vacation, or returning from a long stint of work - our driveway is always a welcome sight

it's always good to be home again

~Susan Tidwell 2007

~photos - our driveway circa 1973