Motel, Mountains, and Mamie

We woke in a nasty motel room from which we were anxious to make our escape -- but not nearly as anxious as we had been to bed down the night before. The sheets seemed clean so we stayed -- even after finding ashtrays on the dresser and burn holes on the bedspread – in a non-smoking room.

There was a desk and free wi-fi, but no electrical outlet free for plugging in anything without disconnecting a necessary light or refrigerator. It wasn’t until I went to potty at midnight that the toilet seat slipped off the handicap-height commode.

As we compared notes on the motel at breakfast (not at the motel, I should add), I pointed out to Richard that this had been a handicapped room. He suggested that I had misunderstood; that it was a room that, instead of catering to handicaps, caused them.

All was well as soon as we stepped out into the glorious spring day we were given for returning to our Tennessee Mountain Home. As we progressed into the higher elevations, we commented more times than I can count on how three-dimensional the mountains seem with the many shades of spring in their foregrounds and backdrops. As spring matures into summer, the wooded hills will become more uniformly dark, lush, forest green.

It’s amazing how much can be missed in one week away. Our dogwoods which hadn’t begun to show white had flowered and were now mostly leafy green with a few remaining blossoms. The very talented local artist and photographer, Judy, is faithfully photographing the progression of spring, so I am, thankfully, able to catch up with her postings of flower photos on facebook.

As soon as Richard unpacked the van, he headed over to Mamie’s. He was chomping at the bit to discuss the garden with her. Mamie continues to insist that the garden at her house is ours to do with as we wish; it looks like she may mean it. Apparently, Mamie was just waiting for our return to get the garden going; within a couple of hours of Richard’s visit, she called with news that her grandson had just plowed the plot.

We’re starting First Friday Coker Creek Community Suppers next month to take advantage of our excess garden production. We’ll be inviting others to contribute food, entertainment, and work fellowship. In addition to the free-for-the-taking produce that Ken leaves in front of the Welcome Center, and the excess production of many other residents who garden, there is a community garden going in at Coker Creek Village.

If we can’t get donations of meat, there’s always Lynda’s church’s Angel Food Ministries for purchasing it at a reduced price. We should be able to feed multitudes for very little cash outlay, and have a great time getting to know our neighbors.

What I miss most about south Louisiana is the sense of celebration. It’s time for me to stop whining and start slinging hash while bringing in singers and other entertainers to add a little more fun to the faith, family, and food that form the backbone of the value system in these hills.