Rainy Mornin' in the Mountains

Down yonder in the mountains, deep in the holler
A right smart drive from any little ol' town
Little ol' cabins sit coveyed up in a wide spot
Not much more than a couple fields an' a creek
Sittin' in the flat place made as two hills run together.

It is early mornin' an' the mist still clings tight
Seems to wrap tendrils around the trees an' weeds
Writhes an moves an' reaches out here an' yonder
Hangin' on a might longer since it is rainin'.

Soon enough a weak an' ancient sun will rise
Tryin' to punch through the mist, rain an' clouds.
Birds will wake up an ruffle their damp feathers
Roosters, hoarse from the damp will crow a scratchy "cock-a-do".

Cows in beat up an' broken down barns are gonna beller
Hopin' someone will be out soon to milk.
Ol' dogs will rise out of the dust under them cabin porches
Shake an' look out at the rain only to drop down again.

 Lights are soon to come on an' little streams of smoke
Will start to rise from chimneys as coals are poked
An' big ol' potbelly stoves are stoked.
It is a rainy ol' mornin' in the mountains.

Folks are just a' risin', breakfast just a' cookin'.
Ol' men will be movin' slow this mornin'.
Bones just achin', feet a' hurtin' as they pull on their shoes.
But they is chores to be done, stock to feed.

It is a rainy ol' wonderful, blessed mornin' in the mountains.
Y'all come home.  Come on home.

Muted morning

The morning is damp and muted
As if the rain turned the volume down.
Back yonder a rain dove calls
Her plaintive cry is lonely an' slow.
Other songbirds are slow to join in
As morning rises and the day beckons.

Dog Damp Morning

The morning is wet dog damp and cold
Sunrise is slow to climb over the horizon
Dawn moves toward me as if confused.
Night is gone, washed from earth's sleepy eyes
Day seems to linger on the other side of the world
As if someone over there is unwilling to pass it on.

Wet Dog Day

It is a dark and dampy, misty morning
A smelly wet dog, flea bitten day
Thunder cracker-boomer-banger
Rumble an' grumbly sort of start
Snuggle buggle under quilts an' covers
Hide your head an' roll right over day
A day for fires burnin' slow like,
Woodstoves cherry reddish kinda morn.

Rainy Morning

Uncle Billy woke about 5:30 as he always did. He hadn't used the old wind up "Big Ben" alarm clock for years. Aunt Del used to use it when there was a holiday to cook for or if it was calfin' time. She would set it every couple of hours to get up and check on the mama cow. These days Uncle Billy had his internal alarm set from scores of years of farm work. Funny how even though a feller didn't need to get up his body woke up at the same ol' time, day after day.

As he lay there in the same ol' brass bed he had slept in since him and Aunt Del had taken up housekeepin', he heard the rain fallin' onto the tin roof. The sound made a constant drummin' that would lull him right back to sleep if he weren't careful.

"It must be a rainin' hard for them birds not to be stirrin'" he thought. There was a big holly bush outside his open window and usually the birds nestin' in it would sing "good mornin'" to him 'bout this time each day.

Every now an' agin thunder crashed up over the hills surroundin' the holler where his ramblin' cabin sat. It weren't no big ol' storm. Just one that pleasantly rumbled and flashed just to keep things lively. The rain was constant, though.

When he reached across the bed for a pillow to prop himself up, Old Dog's tail started thumpin' in time to the rain. Old Dog looked up without movin' his sorry head. That dog knew the easiest way to do anything. No wasted motion for him.

"Old Dog, I reckon we'uns might just lay her for a while yet. I don't figure y'all will want to get yer sorry ol' backside wet doin' yer business in the rain."

Old Dog thumped his tail harder as if to agree. Other than that tail there weren't a muscle movin.

Uncle Billy pulled the quilts up closer to his neck and put his specs back on the side table. He reckoned he'd close his eyes for just a bit longer.

At 6:45 his eyes opened and he sat up quickly. "Well, we have done slept all day. Why'd ya let me lay here this long? I'm gonna have to get shet of ya if'n I can't depend on ya to wake me." He rubbed Old Dog's head hard as he chuckled.

Now, years ago Aunt Del would bring Uncle Billy a washpan full of hot water, a washrag and a towel. He'd wash up right there in the bedroom so he wouldn't have to parade through the cabin half dressed. That offended Aunt Del's manners, ya see. These days they was a bathroom an' Uncle Billy was by himself an' didn't much worry 'bout offendin' Old Dog's manners so he strolled into the bathroom in his drawers.

He remembered coffee and wandered into the kitchen to start a pot... then back to wash up. He carefully lathered his face with his shavebrush and shaved with the same straight razor he had used for years. Wasn't a day went by that he didn't shave. It were just the proper thing to do.

A couple of eggs fried in bacon grease, store bought biscuits in the oven and a little ham meat fried just before the eggs an' Uncle Billy was set. He added some jelly an' butter to his biscuits. He still had mason jars full of jellies and preserves Aunt Del put up several years ago. He would have sweetnin' till the day he died, he reckoned.

Everything was carried out to the porch an' Uncle Billy settled in to eat an' watch the rain. Now an' again a truck or ol' car would wander by and Uncle Billy would throw up a hand. He would holler a greetin' if he knew the folks.

Hap Collins stopped in the road and leaned over to roll the window down, "How in the world are ye, Uncle Billy?"

Uncle Billy got up and walked to the end of the porch with his ever present coffee cup. "Fine as frog hair, Hap. You?"

"Gettin' by, gettin' by."

"Ever'one OK over to your place?"

"Yessir, Uncle Billy. They is doin' fine. Mama is mighty poorly, though. We are a goin' over to London to see her come Saturday, I reckon."

"Tell her howdy for me. Tell her I might come a courtin'."

Hap laughed, "Now that would perk her up, I gar-untee. I don't know if I'd be a wantin' ye as a Daddy, though. I've seen ye at the supper table. Mama might starve."

"Yessir, she might just. Why don't ya come on up for a while? I got coffee made."

The invite was sincere and was always offered to friend, family or stranger by Uncle Billy.

"Cain't right now, Uncle Billy. I got to get the youngin's an' go over to town for a while. How 'bout I stop with the ol' woman later tonight?

"I'll be here. Y'all drive safe, now"

"I will you an' Old Dog stay out the rain."

Uncle Billy looked over his shoulder...Old Dog was up on the hill, doin' his business. "I ain't goin' out for sure and I'd bet that is the only time Old Dog gets hisself wet."

"Bye, Uncle Billy"

"Bye, Hap."

Uncle Billy settled back in. Old Dog came up onto the porch, walked to the end and shook hisself and walked over to fall in a heap at Uncle Billy's feet. Uncle Billy reached into the chink between the logs to his right and pulled out a couple of cedar sticks. His Case knife was already open. He looked the blade over and was satisfied it was sharp enough.

Blade hit wood and a long curl of wood ran from the blade to the end. He looked up for just a second, "Old Dog, let's us jus' sit here and rest our bones today."

Old Dog's tail thumped his agreement.

Springtime Quilt

Cousins,
It rained much of the day yesterday. As I drove throughout the day the rain was a constant companion. I put on a little music - three part harmony of old time music sung by a group I met at a festival. It was moody and full of sadness and regret. It reminded me of the hills, of promises made and forgotten, of loves lost, of loved ones gone on before me to that home beyond the hills, beyond the mist, beyond time.

Later in the evening Oh My Darlin' went to bed before me. When I quietly slipped into our bedroom I could hear her soft breathing as she slept. I carefully took my keys and pocket knife out of my jeans and realized how cold it was in the room. The window was open and the night air was as crisp as the sheets I hoped to slide into. When I shut the window, I then headed for bed.

We still have 2 quilts on the bed, mostly for Oh My Darlin'. I don't reckon we operate on the same thermostat. Last night was an exception. She had pulled the top quilt off my side of the bed, but I did not hesitate to pull it back on.

I pushed my way into the sheets and pulled them up to my neck. They quickly warmed and I smiled as I remembered many nights in the warmth of a featherbed and 5 or 6 quilts there on Arnett's Fork of Double Creek, yonder in Clay County. I remember laying in bed after my Great Uncle Bill had fallen asleep across the room, listening to the night, glad for the warmth of springtime quilts. Every treefrog seemed to be calling for a cover to warm themselves. Every cry of an owl was seeking just one more quilt on their nesting place.

My nesting place was warm and secure. The cold air on my nose felt right and the woman I love slept on as I wandered the hills of Appalachia. I don't reckon she even missed me as she slept.

I think I will always keep a quilt on my bed.