Small Town Serendipity

I love making memories as we putter through our lives, basking in the process of every minute of every day. Today, I took my precious deceased younger sister's daughter to do some of my favorite things in the world. While stopping by the Coker Creek Welcome Center and Post Office to get a first-hand look at the University of Tennessee motif quilt that the Quilts for Kids group will be raffling at the Autumn Gold Festival this weekend, we got a chance to visit with and get hugs from Pastor Lynda, who had just met my niece the night before. We were also able to say hello to Barbara and Betty working in the quilt display area.

As we were leaving, I got a chance to thank Marsha, once again, for the generosity she and her husband Bill had shown my niece's daughter in a gold panning adventure on a summer visit. And to top it all off, Adam drove in to collect his mail; so my niece got to meet the husband of the artist that made a quilt that she had purchased on her first visit to Coker Creek. Then, we proceeded to the deck overlooking the Tellico River rapids to enjoy one of the fabulous paninis made by the sisters at Kats Deli. I love the whole sister thing they have going there, along with everything else about their place, including the fall color reflecting in the river.

At Kats, we ran into Judy and Rick , two of the most accomplished people in these parts. They told us that my Richard is, one again, a poster boy. It seems that Rick and Judy were shooting photos and video footage for publicity of Volunteer Federal Bank for the Tellico Plains website, and Richard ended up in one of their shots that we can all enjoy at Tellico-Plains.com.

This isn't the first time Richard has been featured in publicity shots. He's been doing volunteer work for the World War II Museum in New Orleans since before it opened its doors as the D-Day Museum. His countenance adorns a display at the museum, and he was even on a documentary shot at the museum, highlighting the Higgins boats . It really tickles me when these things happen to Richard, who spends his life attempting to avoid the spotlight. (Needless-to-say, he doesn't read my blog.) Upon pulling up the Tellico Plains site, I was very relieved that he hadn't dressed in his "homeless" look before going to the bank on picture day. He's such a stud muffin!

My niece and I then went on to our local Wal-Mart, the closest place in these parts, to develop photos and purchase display supplies. It was time to begin the display board that I promised the Quilts for Kids ladies would be ready for this weekend's festival. When I went to retrieve the finished photos, the clerk was laughing at the coincidence of recognizing two of the quilters in my photographs as two of the store's employees. Talk about small-town life! Maybe I'd better start behaving myself before I ruin my reputation.

Salving the Suffering

Jesus fed the bodies before preaching to the souls;
His desire to bring joy was big and bold.
He comforted the suffering before speaking of the sin.
Wherever He walked, wholeness moved in.
He changed water to wine to help celebrate
The sanctity of bonding with one's anointed mate.
So let us be joyful, and embrace one another
After seeking forgiveness from our sisters and brothers.
We may not be able to forgive all others' sins,
But we can help relieve the fear that lurks within.
The generations that are wounded by those before we came
Can be held by us in The Creator's name.
Jesus showed us the way to minister to each other
Helping heal the children honors our father and mother.

Celebration of Creation

If you haven't seen the sunrise over the Ocoee,
You haven't seen Southeastern Tennessee.
The mists that masked the mountains
Linger on the low-lying lakes,
Veiling their deeply serene beauty,
As the bridal veil does the virgin's face.


My soul sings with the wonder of
Another chance to become again pure.
Arise, New Day, unveil yourself;
Express your celebration,
For today is another perfect presence
In the whole of Earth's Creation.

Hand In Hand on the Path to Peace

I was not called to fight with swords;
I was commanded to uplift with words.
Every one of us has a perfect child,
Though some are living as if raised in the wild.
We are so in bondage to the people of our pasts
That someone must help us to find the right paths.
We have had the face of our Creator reshaped
By those who wanted our spirits to break,
So that they could move in with their greed and their lusts,
Convincing us that they were the ones we could trust
To mold our thoughts and hold our hands
While we walked together to The Promised Land.
But what they sowed was fear and discontent
Giving the face of The Almighty a human imprint.

My Creator is big, and strong, and Pure Light,
A Being of Infinite, Awesome Might.
My Protector holds me and dares any other,
With selfish intent to call himself brother,
Or sister, or friend, or leader of lambs;
Only those who seek Oneness may take our hands.
I will be careful whose hand I take;
Sometimes I've made almost fatal mistakes.
Many have helped pull me from the fire;
They are now wishing that we could all retire.
Still, we come when our babies cry out in pain,
Knowing our torments will be worth the gain
Of eternal life, and joy, and peace,
As we hold them until their terrors cease.

When we can't discern where the path might be
We need earthly angels to help us to see.
As we walk away there's a stamp on our hearts
Where we've accepted a command to continue our parts.
For no soul can stay strong when left all alone;
We have to house many in our spiritual homes,
To lift, and soothe, and serve each other.
We've become, in essence spiritual mothers,
And brothers, and sisters, and fathers, and friends,
Walking together until the path ends,
Back in union with the Great Light,
The Power of Goodness, and Growth and Delight

A Place of Protection and Peace

We have finished the memorial service honoring Don; we think he was pleased. We know that his siblings felt comforted by the way we honored their big brother, and that pleases us. It's always interesting to watch families, especially blended families, in times of stress trying to avoid the landmines that inevitably present themselves. All evidence is that everyone involved is going home whole, and that's about the best outcome there can be.

There's always a period of emotional "hang-over" for me after putting so much concentrated energy for so long into a completed project. At the end, my tendency is to jump headlong into another project, just because the adrenaline has taken over where my brain used to be. A little "hair of the dog that bit me" seems like a good idea at these times, and I become like a freight train careening downhill with no brakes.

Thank The Almighty for placing Richard in my path. He doesn't even attempt to stop the train; he simply lays down a stretch of sidetrack which slows me down and guides me safely home. It's impossible to go ninety-to-nothing on these mountain roads, so the energy saved can be channeled into more peaceful pursuits, like a retreat with one of my favorite people.

I've wanted to start a retreat center ever since the worst time my life fell apart over twenty years ago. Sometimes, too much comes crashing in on us at one time, and our lives spin so fast with no forward motion that our batteries die. Unlike in Peter Pan where all we had to do was believe in fairies and clap our hands to bring the spirit of Tinkerbell back alive; in real life, we sometimes have to be hooked up to a strong energy source to rejuvenate ourselves. The life Richard has provided me is my jump start. I'm thrilled when others want to plug into that protection and peace.

...And Richard's sumptuous salads are always good fuel.

Seriously Saucy

Bread pudding with bourbon sauce was the goal for the day
Don didn't like what he called bugs, so we made it a different way.
Apricots, cherries, and nutmeg made the pudding good;
Cajuns use what's on hand in creating all their food.

When it came time to make the sauce, we used no bourbon after all;
A bottle of Jack Daniels came to hand in the closet in the hall.
Nobody seemed to notice the sauce had a little different flavor;
There didn't seem to be any complaints as this dessert was savored.

Talking About Tara

An absolutely perfect fall day in Atlanta,
Rocking on the veranda overlooking a manicured lawn.
Soaking up the ambiance that Scarlett must have enjoyed
Before Sherman burned the heart of Southern Hospitality.
Red beans cooking in the kettle in the perfect kitchen,
Everything in order, as in a Southern home it should be.

The busy Buckhead boulevard seems many miles away
From this backyard heaven under dogwood and magnolia trees.
What a gift I've been given to create my Cajun cooking
For the particular palate of my friend, an executive chef.
I like to think I'm Scarlett in this imaginary movie
But I know I'm more like Prissy just trying to do my best.