Nothing Finer than Living in North Caroliner

Nothing Finer than Living in North Caroliner
Blue Ridge Smoky Mountains

Monday, December 24, 2012

Day 311 - Pinterest

Follow Me on Pinterest

So I've joined a website called Pinterest. It is one of those sites that you can get lost in for days, years and never eat or sleep.  There are different interests but mine is the DIY Do It Yourself Craft and Art projects.  I've waited until Christmas day to post this because it shows some of the crafts I made for some of you for christmas.  Enjoy and feel free to check my arts out by clicking the link on this blog or by going to

I'm still trying to figure it out but I'm giving it my best effort!

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Day 310 - Son of America What is a Mother to Do?

I went to school in a rural town on top of a mountain Clarion Pennsylvania.  If you wanted to leave,  any way you went, you had to descend down the road and ascend up the next mountain.  I remember going to a bluegrass concert for the first time where the Corbin Hanner band performed.  I immediately fell smitten to this music.  Songs like Dinosaur, The Working Song, from the album with the feature hit Son of America would be easily on our lips as soon as we left.  The easy lyrics and fun atmosphere of being outside in the a field sitting on a blanket, surrounded by trees just made you feel good.

Son of America
words & music by Bob Corbin pub. by Sabal Music Inc. (ASCAP)
You can ride the roads from Chicago to New Orleans  

And all points in between California to the coast of Maine  
And Florida keys to the western plains 
And I'll be there around every corner  

(Chorus) I'm a son of America, child of the heart land  
And I know where my heart lies now Where it's always been  
I'm a son of America, child of the heart land  
And when I die lay me down Deep in my homeland  

I work in the mill, I work in the shop  
I ride the range, I stand alone in the rain at a lonely crossroads 
I live in the city, I live on the farm 
I raise a family, I live alone  

With my dreams, they're all my own  
Like others before me I make my living with my hands  
I've been right and I've been wrong  
But when the feelin's strong You know I'll take a stand  

(Chorus) I'm a son of America, child of the heart land  
And when I die lay me down Deep in my homeland

Little did I know that I would live to give birth to two sons.  Sons of America.  I felt for a time that I was losing them. One of my sons ran away three times and until this year claimed that he raised himself.  Right.  I laughed.  You fed yourself with the money you made from your first job that paid for your house and heat and shelter and clothing straight out of my womb.  Naive.  I gave up finally at the age of twenty-one when I told him he needed to trust in God when his response was Fuck God!  What is a mother to do?

I'm at that place now with my other son.  What is a mother to do when my own son won't answer my phone calls, voice mails, texts, messages from other relatives and e-mails while living in another city?  The right thing to do as I learned with my first son is to let them go and pray to God to watch over him.  

With the recent shootings in Newton Connecticut, I empathize with Nancy Lanza although conflicted with her choice to buy guns, shoot guns, teach her mentally challenged son about guns, and let her son play video games that use these weapons as propaganda.  This was a big source of contention within my parenting styles that conflicted with my husbands.  I never bought these video games for my sons, their father did.  I made them at least turn off the blood to stop the desensitization that occurs from seeing this for hours and hearing the moaning from the injured.  I also didn't agree to buy their own tv's so that they could shelter themselves in their bedrooms.  I wanted us to view TV in the living room TOGETHER as a family.  It wasn't me.  

I never allowed toy guns, rifles, or any weapons or GI Joes in the house.  My boys had plenty to play with that didn't include Barbie dolls (not that there is anything wrong with that) but I couldn't protect them from the friends they chose who had parents who did allow play guns.  When they did get a hold of them, they tried to play like normal kids and I quickly went out and I'm sure to their embarrassment yelled, "Don't point those things at people!  Point them at the ground!"  I always asked parents of the kids they chose to stay over night with about their guns.  Again to their embarrassment.  It wasn't until about two years ago that my oldest son told me that he was in a room with his teenage friends at the age of fourteen that his friend pulled out a real gun to impress the other boys in the room.  When he started waving it around, it was my son who told him, "Hey  don't point that at us, watch what your are doing, point it to the ground."  A REAL GUN!  All those years of being the odd parent, the over protective, mean parent had paid off.  It may have saved his life or the life of his friends.  

My other son plays online video games and I believe he is addicted to them.  He used to play them so much, he didn't eat, sleep or go to school.  I've had to let go and Let God and wait for the day he hits rock bottom so that he too can turn into a Son of America like my oldest son who through the grace of God and the steady direction of his extended family has a great job and is self supporting.  

With my dreams, they're all my own  
Like others before me I make my living with my hands  
I've been right and I've been wrong  
But when the feelin's strong You know I'll take a stand   

He lives in the city, has dreams of his own and at some point took a stand.  I pray that the other mothers of sons and the other sons take a stand so that the young innocent children who perished last Friday will never be forgotten.  Its not just gun control, its parenting, its mental illness and it is those DAMN VIDEO GAMES of war, weaponry and destruction that just condition them to hit the reset button when they lose.  Life isn't like that, we don't have a reset button, we have to work and toil to recover from failures, from tragedies, from devastation.  I wonder if Nancy ever told her son Adam not to EVER point the gun at a person let alone at her, his mother! ...I'm not judging, but I doubt it. 

- Charlotte Bacon, 2/22/06, female
- Daniel Barden, 9/25/05, male
- Rachel Davino, 7/17/83, female.
- Olivia Engel, 7/18/06, female
- Josephine Gay, 12/11/05, female
- Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 04/04/06, female
- Dylan Hockley, 3/8/06, male
- Dawn Hochsprung, 06/28/65, female
- Madeleine F. Hsu, 7/10/06, female
- Catherine V. Hubbard, 6/08/06, female
- Chase Kowalski, 10/31/05, male
- Jesse Lewis, 6/30/06, male
- James Mattioli , 3/22/06, male
- Grace McDonnell, 12/04/05, female
- Anne Marie Murphy, 07/25/60, female
- Emilie Parker, 5/12/06, female
- Jack Pinto, 5/06/06, male
- Noah Pozner, 11/20/06, male
- Caroline Previdi, 9/07/06, female
- Jessica Rekos, 5/10/06, female
- Avielle Richman, 10/17/06, female
- Lauren Rousseau, 6/1982, female (full date of birth not specified)
- Mary Sherlach, 2/11/56, female
- Victoria Soto, 11/04/85, female
- Benjamin Wheeler, 9/12/06, male
- Allison N. Wyatt, 7/03/06, female

Let Go and Let God redeem us from this mess. But yet at some point I have to admit as much as I want to call Adam Lanza evil, and the mark of the devil. I still feel he is a product of our society.  He is one of us too. He and his mother are our brother and our sister.  I feel guilty just saying this.  It is like calling the murderers of my cousin Tammy as she pleaded for her life with her four month child inside her Zachary brothers. It was my brother who shot her in the head, as he shot his Christian sister and unborn brother.  It doesn't feel good but it still is true. I internally argue with myself about the death penalty when this topic enters my thoughts. I don't believe they are Sons of America, but I somehow rely on my faith and know that this place is temporary and know they are my brothers forever. 

I hope that we can all stand with the victim's mothers and fathers and pray for them every day for the rest of our life.  It is the least that we can do, when we wake up every morning knowing we still have OUR children. Like the mountain where I went to school, we are traveling down the mountain and are standing in the valley screaming for redemption as we ascend our next mountain with only our faith and a little hope.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Day 309 - The Lines Around Us and Within Us

Line (n)  a long narrow mark or band.  We have all heard the saying, the shortest route between two points is a straight line.  I've been thinking about this word quite a bit lately and it all started with a leaf dangling what seemed like in midair.  I was riding my bike and as I came closer i saw that the leaf was suspended in air held by the tiniest spider web line.  I rode by and the leaf moved from the wind I created as I cycled by and it returned to its space held in suspension, spinning slowly.

This line was invisible but yet strong.  Thin but holding an object many times its weight.  Flexible but unwilling to let go.  I thought of our tiny connection to God.  Is it not the same?  Invisible yet strong and flexible but unwilling to let go. He will slowly stretch to allow us to return to safety when we are hanging without protection in midair.

I've envisioned other lines invisible to me before I see them in my past.  While riding my bike some time ago, I had this weird thought as I approached the highway underpass.  What would happen if a fishing line was tied across the path at just the right height, would I be able to see it before it did damage to me?  Would it clothesline me? As I approached on an early Saturday morning, I saw a fishing line had been tied from one side to the other side of the sidewalk at my neck level.  I stopped, called 911 on my cell phone and told dispatcher where fishing line was located.  By the time I returned on the second half of my bike ride, the fishing line had been cut down. 

What was it about that time that made me think of this and then there it was?  I like to think that it is intuition.  I don't have these thoughts on many occasions but when I do, I listen to them, they are inevitably always right.  This line wasn't holding anything, it was a tied to make a horizontal line and it was supported by its ends and its knots. Like a clothesline holds clothes.  In a weird way it makes me think of being a parent.  Here we are stretched but still strong enough to hold our young.  Sometimes by just a clothes pin.  Until the time comes that they will be removed. We support them while they need changed from a wet status to a dry status.  A child that is not ready who has with sun and wind and support changed to a ready status.  Off they go. 

And there are lines that are boundaries, places to tread, places not to tread, things to say, things not to say, lines in the sand if you will. Lines in the roads, the paths of life, the path on which I ride that bike, I go back to the leaf hanging on the spider line, invisible and strong, I think of the word line as a verb. Line: (v) Cover the inside surface with a layer of different material.  And I wonder if its through the lines which are invisible, flexible and strong that God lines us with his protective guidelines that actually do define us as individuals. Because it is clear to me that the boundaries others set up around us surely don't define us. Intuitively we know this but like the fish line, actually seeing it is believing it. This is where faith should line our thoughts.