I am from pickles in mason jars; from returnable Pepsi bottles and snow tires.
I am from the small house with a fan in the window; from a well you pray won’t go dry.
I am from goldenrod, wild blackberries, and maple tree helicopters
I am from sitting around a fire pit and from bald heads; from Mom and Dad and Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Laura and Uncle Bill.
I am from hot tempers and strong wills; from roller skating in the basement and Johnny Cash on 8-track.
From “Come in and sit a spell” and “untie your brother”.
I am from an old stone church with many wise old gray heads
I’m from Appalachia, both Pennsylvania and West Virginia; from parsnips and cold beer.
I am from the strawberry patch lovers, the “pull the weeds, not the tomatoes!” crew and from the “Someone get up and turn the antenna!” labor force.
I am from camping in the back yard, hoeing in the garden; I am from the woods and mountains and streams that were my world.
I saw this over at Blind Pig and the Acorn and it really struck something in me. Part of it was from this new old picture of my grandparents and from my longing to go back to simpler times. I began to wonder how my kids would fill this out 30 years from now and whether I am doing right by them. I wonder why my memory stinks so bad and how many important things I have forgotten. I guess I need a little something right now, but looking back over this list, I can’t think what else I could possibly need. Where I’m from, we have all we need!
If anyone else wants to share, I’d be happy to post where you are from too…here’s the format