Thar's pride in them thar hills!

Well, I sure hope y'all had a good Memorial Day weekend! I certainly did. Remembered those in my extended family who had served and died for our country as well as others who are now long gone. I wish I had read this before 3pm today. I think I was just getting back home around that time. The word sure needs to get out a bit better on this part of the observance! I wasn't aware that there was now a moment of silence to be held on Memorial Day.

I'm back from the pilgrimage to the mountains of "Virginnie" where I'm happy to report that not much has changed since last time I was there about three years ago. Of course, some of the older folks have passed on to their reward and everyone else is a few years older. Some of our family's historic landmarks are disappearing and others are being maintained beautifully. It's always nice to visit them all regardless of what shape they're in these days.

Geographically speaking, I think we blew my niece's mind trying to explain the Cumberland Gap and how we could jump from one state to another so quickly. She kept asking "Are we in Virginia now?" "Are we in Tennessee now? "Are we in Kentucky now?" Although, I think by the time we left she had it sussed.

Dad's birthplace is being slowly reclaimed by the land.

Hillbillies take a lot of ribbing about their country ways and their country language but I have to say that I'm quite proud to be descended from this particular group of hillbillies. My extended family in Rose Hill instinctively understands what many better educated folks still don't get -- honor your history and your ancestors; honor your country and the folks who fight for her; and making an appointment to get together is nonsense -- just stop on in! Heck, sometimes you don't even have to leave your car. If the person you're stopping in to visit is outside, he'll probably wander up to your car window ("winder" in hillspeak) and chat with you right on the spot for quite a spell.

My niece got her first dose of a real Baptist preacher at the grave decoration ceremony yesterday in the Campbell cemetary. We walked up to the cemetary from my great aunt's house just down the road. There were flags planted on the graves of soldiers who served in this country's wars and flowers on every grave. We got to visit with many of our living relatives as well as those in the cemetary before the ceremony. The preacher spoke from nothing more than what "the Lahrd had filled [his] heart with." His deacon was quick to add his own "amen"s and "tell it brother"s during each prayer. Even though he had a revival over in Tennessee to get to, he offered to stay after the ceremony to save any of us who hadn't yet been saved.

In the hills, our country is honored even in cemetaries.

Hey Libs, this is what Memorial Day is about.

Country preachers are generous people. However, I hear they can scarf up loads of fried chicken pretty fast when they stop in to visit at dinnertime... at least, according to my great aunt, they can. I hadn't heard a real Baptist preacher myself in many, many years. It was a treat. This particular preacher is now one of my favorites as one of his first remarks was about this great country and the sacrifices we make for others. I believe he said "God doesn't care what other countries think of us either." hehehe I had to chuckle. If it would have been socially acceptable, I would have jumped up and high-fived him on that!

Preaching in the cemetary from his heart and the scripture.

My granny is buried next to her sister who died a spinster. I had forgotten that her husband (Robert Loftice) was buried in Michigan with his family.

Even my great-great-grandparents are here.

Dad and I took my niece down to the creek by the Rosedale Baptist Churck to introduce my 4-year-old niece to the treat of wading in a mountain creek -- and, yes, there are a lot of Baptist churches in Rose Hill, in case you were wondering. We looked for crawdads and frogs. Although we didn't find any of those, she managed to catch two minnows ("minners" in hillspeak) in a paper cup. She was overjoyed! We picked wildflowers and put them in a Mason jar for my great aunt. Most of the time though, we hung out on the porch with all our relatives just eating and talking.

We stopped in, as we usually do, to visit my great uncle Roy and his clan in Rose Hill. His wife, Gloria, is a hoot. Everything about their family that Gloria doesn't like came from "his side" and all the good stuff comes from "her side" of the family. When she talked about being a Democrat, I had to laugh. Evidently, in the hills everyone knows how you're registered. If you're a Democrat you don't dare cross land belonging to a Republican and vice versa. Politically speaking, the good politics comes from "his side," Gloria! ;-)

All of this was fun but when my niece wanted to go watch some of the guys burn the trash, I had to chuckle. It's got to be an instinct. We used to love to watch them burn the trash when my brother and I were out there for a visit. Isn't it a shame that we don't get to burn our own trash anymore? I had to explain to my niece that there weren't any big garbage trucks to come around and haul the garbage away. I think she came to understand that "recycling" is done just a little bit differently in the country.

It was a long trip but I'm glad my niece came along. I think more kids ought to get away from their play dates, sports lessons, dance classes, and suburbia to just hang out in the country. Contrary to popular belief, it's good for them. My niece seemed to resist the idea of "doing nothing" but certainly warmed to it pretty quickly when creek-wading, flower picking, and trash burning became "something!"