Sharing a photo of a scene I hope to see again soon. This field full of wildflowers. Spring....where are you?
Garden and Gun has a little competition going on with some Southern food favorites. Check out their bracket and see if you find any of your favorites represented. I admit a love for Duke's Mayo, Krispy Kreme Doughnuts (lemon filled please), Wickles Pickles, and Dale's Seasoning. Seriously, I have never developed a love for Moon Pies. Just can't do it.
Garden and Gun also has dog photos shared by readers from all over the south. In the past, I even had a couple of my own furry friends featured in these pics.
Have you had enough basketball yet? If not, make sure you watch more of it this weekend.
It is wrong to admit that I am weary of it already? And, actually have only watched one game.....
Although Spring officially sprung on the calendar, it is far away from our reality here on the farmette. Cold temps, rain, thunderstorms, and the threat of snow rule the day. I realize that is a far better scheme than most of you may be facing.
Is it too obvious to say that there is just no place like home on a dreary, rainy, cloudy, un-spring-like weekend?
Lastly, my bees swarmed. Yes, they left the life of luxury I provided for them. This has made me sad and a bit perplexed, but the girls did leave me a few frames of capped honey for my efforts. I have more bees and a hive arriving in the future.....along with a swarm lure to possibly fill my empty hive.
Here in Smalltownland everyone calls them March Lilies. You, however, may know them as Jonquils or even Daffodils. As a child I even called them Buttercups. Whatever the term of endearment, they arrive here in the month of March. Heralding the arrival of spring, even if there happens to be a flurry of snow in the air.
Also in Smalltownland there is a field that becomes engulfed in them each spring. A field that has spent at least a couple hundred, allowing these flowers to grow at will.
This home, built between 1810 - 1825, still stands in our town as an example of the Federal architectural period. Though it has had some additions of a gabled roof and porch, the interior boasts original chair rails, corner cupboards, an open stairwell, and pilastered mantels.
It also boasts a famous inhabitant. Arriving from Faquier County, Virginia in 1803, Richard Buckner went on to become one of our prominent, early politicians. Going on to serve as a state senator, congressman, and a candidate for governor in 1832.
On the property are over 20 graves. Some are unmarked and some have stones with engraving that is not so legible.
It is known that two children were buried in this area. Last year, around this time, I heard a local legend that stated the March Lilies began in the field after the children were buried.
These Grape Hyacinths were also growing wild around the grave stones.
This time the March Lilies don't seem to be in bloom all at once. The top half of the field is covered, but the lower half is just waiting to bloom. If you look closely, there is a girl, with a basket sitting in the field in front of the house.
So, today a bit of history and a mystery of just how this all began.
"History is a gallery of pictures in which there are few originals and many copies."
On this fine St. Patrick's Day I am sharing a post which I wrote four years ago. Still very meaningful to me as it affirms the importance of the Irish in Appalachia. I have been very honored to have the University of Kentucky use these family photographs in their cultural heritage programs.
The Scots-Irish population in the Appalachia region is credited with many things. Hardscrabble people who made a living farming hilly terrain in remote, isolated areas. They influenced our language, religion, music and helped to bring the art of whiskey making to Kentucky. I, along with many others, are fortunate to call these people my ancestors.
My paternal great-grandparents, James Claude with his wife Fannie.
The term "Scots-Irish" or "Scotch-Irish" is strictly an American term and not used in the countries of Britain or Ireland. The term does refer to Irish Protestant immigrants from the Ulster region of Ireland that came to America in the 1700's. The majority of these immigrants were descendants of Scottish and English families who had moved to Ireland in the 1600's. Sometimes referred to as "Ulster Irish" or "Ulster Presbyterians", approximately 250,000 migrated during the 18th century.
My grandfather, Lallie.
The Whiskey Rebellion in 1794 brought some Scots-Irish to Kentucky. In western Pennsylvania whiskey makers rebelled against General Washington over whiskey taxes. 5,000 protesters were put down by a militia which led to a mass migration of Scots-Irish to Kentucky and other territories to avoid taxes on whiskey, which was used as a form of currency.
My maternal great-grandparents, Anna Lee and Lucas.
NASCAR can trace its roots to the moonshine runners of the Applachian Mountains during prohibition. Bluegrass and Country Music can also trace their roots to the Scots-Irish culture. Bluegrass Music was widespread in the remote mountain sections until WSM radio brought it public in the 1930's with the Grand Old Opry.
One of the things that can really set an Appalachian person apart in a crowd is their dialect. Appalachian speakers often use "a-prefixing". This is a dialect practice that has died out in many other parts of the U.S., but it is still used in Appalachia. A person using this places an "a" in front of certain verbs. For example, "Here she comes a-cryin". People who study dialects think that this likely came from the Gaelic language, originally spoken in Ireland and Scotland. Although, this cannot be proven for certain.
Do you have some Irish history in your family? Chances are you do....even if you don't live in Appalachia. Dig around and do a little research this St. Patrick's Day. You might be pleasantly surprised.
Out and about early this morning, I spied this singing bird high up in a tree. By far not the only bird singing, as the air was full of chirps and tunes as I walked around. Without a coat and the promise of sunshine, it was a glorious start to this day of springing forward.
However, it also heralds the start of temporary confusion. I have mentioned before that we live right on the Central/Eastern time zone line. Secret Agent Man and I actually work in different time zones. Many people here refuse to spring forward OR fall back and this reeks havoc with being on time at any time.
Once a source of supplies and a respite for farmers, country stores have all but disappeared from small town culture. All that seems to remain are the skeletons of a time gone by.
"Living in a small town.....is like living in a large family of rather uncongenial relations. Sometimes it's fun and sometimes it's perfectly awful, but it's always good for you. People in large towns are like only children."
Henrietta Sees It Through: More News From the Home Front 1942-1945
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