New Media from a Journalism Veteran
Dawn of a new season
OK, I admit it. I have Spring Fever, along with either a cold or a severe allergy attack (not sure which yet).
Tuesday’s incredible Spring day will, for the most part, repeat today before rains move in for Thursday and Friday (rain in the mountains in April. How unique).
Morning promises
The morning sun can display a variety of colors, especially when combined with a slight mist. These woods are part of the land above our house while the stream is the Little River off Bethlehem Church Road about two miles from our home.
Strange? Nah!
Just about every time I talk to a friend or client in Washington or somewhere other than Floyd County, they ask the usual question: "What’s life like up there in the hills."
Just like anyplace else. Get up in the morning, go to work, go home. People are normal.
Just like this fellow here. OK, so he’s wearing a funny hat. But it’s the 4th of July and people get a little strange.
But if you want strange, venture further down south to Savannah, Georgia, where people walk imaginary dogs, a transvestite is a local tourist attraction and all the members of the ladies’ garden club carry guns, which they show off after an afternoon of martinis.
Or over to West Virginia where it is legal to cook and eat your road kill (yes, there’s a law that makes it legal) or down to a little town in South Carolina where they hold an annual festival to honor peach pits.
Keep heading south and you can wind up in Dothan, Alabama, where the local tourist attraction is a big statue of a Boll Weevil right in the middle of town. Now, that’s strange.
History
This pantry has sat on our farm for generations, offering cold storage for canned fruits and vegetables.
Nowadays, it stores rakes, ladders and a lot of cobwebs, but I remember fetching applesauce, beans and other foods from the shelves stacked with Mason jars.
Some were in cans tfrom the cannery on Canning Factory Road near Floyd and most of it came from the apple orchard that is long gone or the garden that has gone unplanted and unused for years now.
Nowadays, the cans of fruit and veggies come from places like Food Lion, Kroger, Slaughters or the Willis Village Mart.
Like our orchard, the canning factory is long gone and the pantry/cellar just outside the house is a storage shed and reminder of things past.
Some will try to tell you it’s the same.
It’s not.
Like so many other things in this country of ours, the simpler times are long gone, along with the innocence and pride that accompanied those times.
A lot of people have moved into Floyd County in recent years hoping to recapture some of the feelings of those times but such a search may be a futile cause. In the best of times, the past serves as a lesson where we learn not repeat the mistakes of history.
But more often than not, we ignore the lessons of the past. Like this pantry, reminders of the past remain but their original use has long gone and most likely will never return.
Springtime and Country Life
Yep, Spring is coming. As soon as the sun came out last week and the temperature climbled into the high 60s, the crowds came out of the shadows and packed the tourist locales. 
Drove up to Harper’s Ferry, WVa, about an hour from Washington and the touristas had already packed the streets.
The entire downtown section of Harper’s Ferry is a National Historical Park.
The main street climbs a long hill lined with historical buildings, many of which have become overpriced antique shops and stores that offer the standard tourist fare.
Most of these shops are owned not by locals but newcomers who moved to Harper’s Ferry and then had to find a way to make a living. From the downtown area, the park follows the Shenandoah River for a couple of miles.
The river becomes a favorite for tubers, crazies who ride downstream in an inner-tube. Often, they have a second tube to hold the cooler and beer.
But Harper’s Ferry, like so many rural areas, faces the onslaught of city folk seeking a "country lifestyle."
However, once the newcomers escape the city, they start missing some of the amenities of urban life and the country charm is quickly lost, replaced by strip malls, chain stores and coffee shops. Doesn’t take long.
But what is the proper balance when it comes to quality of life versus quantity of life? Do we need more amenities when it comes to life in the country?
In Floyd County, I know people who swear they will never set foot in the new Food Lion grocery store when it opens yet they will shop at a Food Lion or Kroger in Christiansburg. Life, as we know it in Floyd, will not end when Food Lion opens but there will be changes — some good, some bad. In time, and only in time, we will know if the good outweighs the bad.
Dealing With an Age-Old Question
Last week, I wrote about a visit from an old friend, someone who holds a special place in my book of teenage memories.
It triggered a wave of email from past relationships who chose to express their feelings not in the public comments sections but in personal emails.
Fred First, who writes the older and much more comprehensive blog about life in Floyd County, shared a link to Susan Sharpiro’s book, Five Men Who Broke My Heart, her revisiting of past relationships.
Shapiro says she was in love five times during her single years from 13-35, once every 4.4 years.
Which raises the eternal question: What is love? The dictionaries have various definitions. One says: "a strong positive emotion of regard and affection." Another one is: "a deep feeling of sexual desire and attraction." Another is more basic: "sexual activities (often including sexual intercourse) between two people." Some believe there is only one love for each of us.
Others say love is simply a chemical reaction and can — and does — strike us down many times.
And when love dies, does it mean the love we thought we felt was not genuine or is it simply a change of body chemistry?
I thought I was in love when I married at 21 but when divorce came five years later, I wasn’t sure. In the seven years of single life that followed, I dated many women but loved only one — until that day when I proposed to who I hope is the final love of my life. Yet after 24-and-a-half years of marriage, can either of us say love is forever?
We hope it is and if emotional commitment is the guiding force it should be. If, however, love is nothing more than body chemistry then anything can — and most likely will — happen. Too much to think about on a Monday morning.
(Photo taken in Paris in 1987)
Get a Horse
Drive on any Floyd County road and God knows what you’re likely to come up behind.
Some mornings, I end up behind a road grader that makes the ever-so-slow trek from the Virginia DOT garages south of Willis to someplace near Floyd. Get behind that creeping hunk of iron and you’re liable to spend a good part of the day traveling 10 or 11 miles.
Or you might come up on some horses and buggies on a winding country lane, like these two on Buffalo Mountain Road. Just some enthusiasts out for a Saturday morning ride.
Sno’ Time to Think Spring
"Think Spring" says the sign in front of Willis Elementary School on U.S. 221.
Isn’t working.
Yet another snow Sunday night.
About seven inches on the ground at the farm on Burk’s Fork Creek.
Light fluffy snow, the kind that slides off the roof during the night and sets the dogs off.
Cat tracks marked the path from the front porch to the gate but nothing else disturbed the blanket of snow this morning. It brushed easily off the Wrangler before I headed out the quarter-mile long driveway to Buffalo Mountain Road, stopping several time to shoot photos of the landscape.
A Southern Baptist minister who wandered through Floyd County in a tent show in 1963 called snow "the dandruff of the Lord." If that is true, then the Lord needs a good dandruff shampoo.
It’s been a long time since the county has slogged through this much of the white stuff during the winter months and winter ain’t over yet. A road crew had scraped Buffalo Mountain Road sometime during the night but ice and snow still covered the shady areas and the Wrangler slipped a few times as I made my way out to U.S. 221. Once on 221,
I slipped the transfer case out of four-wheel drive and managed a steady 50 miles per hour on a mostly-clear road, stopping at the school to get a picture of the "Think Spring" sign.
Just past Midway, a lone cow grazed in the snow about halfway up a hill. Another good picture, I thought, and stopped alongside the road to snap a few photos (or I guess I’m supposed to call them images since that’s what you take with a digital SLR).
A few cars slowed to gawk, their drivers and passengers wondering just what this idiot was doing knee deep in snow taking pictures so early in the morning.
The sun came out as I approached Floyd and stopped at West End Market for the usual two cups of takeout coffee. Not much traffic. Between the weather and the President’s Day holiday, this Monday would be a day to enjoy the beauty of Mother Nature.