Saturday, September 01, 2007

Admittedly, I spend way much more of my time around the four-legged sort of kid than the two-legged sort.

But sometimes they just take my breath away, and I have to take a picture.

Over on Feministe today, I have an essay about Growing up Appalachian.


  1. Elvis Drinkmo said...
    Great pictures, Rosy!

    -from a proud child of Appalachia.
    Anonymous said...
    oh wow. You know, I was moved to the Appalachians (Weaverville, NC) when I was seven, and my family had so much trouble integrating into the culture, and there was so much I resented about living there -

    but I'm twenty-two now and I love this place more than anywhere I've ever been. I would move back to the cove I grew up in in a heartbeat, and so would my brother and sister. We've talked about getting together as soon as the old family that bought our childhood house puts it on the market (they're going to, their own children have moved on) and going back.

    - openwindow20 at livejournal
    Gary Carden said...
    Yeah, there was a time when I couldn't wait to get out of here. I grew up listening to a lot of negative stuff about these mountains and the people who lived here. So, when I got out of college, I went looking for "culture." After fifteen years, I decided that the kind of culture I was looking for was probably the most transitory stuff in the world. I came home one weekend and heard the Appalachian poet, Jim Wayne Miller read. "Come Home," he kept saying. "Walk out your own front door." So, I came back. Moved in my grandparents' old house, and I will not leave again. I sit on the porch in the evening and (as my grannie used to say) "Watch the Balsam mountains fade in the twilight."

Post a Comment