Let me introduce myself and tell you what this blog is all about. It will include my life experiences and stories I’ve heard others tell about the Ozarks. I made a list the other night, of things to talk about and it was two pages long. Then while driving home I thought of about four dozen more aspects that didn’t even get written down and well, I don’t think there’ll be any shortage of material to entertain you with.
I live here at what’s called Moonmooring. I’m proud to say I created that word with some help from my dear friend, Marideth (who I’m sure will be included in more than a few stories and is, in her own right, one of the finest Ozark folklore specialist around). Moonmooring isn’t the only name this place has gone by. When my now ex-husband and I purchased it over 30 years ago we noticed on the previous deeds it had belonged to folks named Needmore. We lovingly called it Needmore Acres for a long time and had just moved here after living in California for the nine previous years. There was a whole slew of jokes about outhouses, goats and Ozark hot tubs. You’ll hear about all those things sooner or later.
I’m going to tell you about my Uncle Butch, who drank beer the same way I like to drink Southern Comfort, straight up and room temperature regardless of the temp, 30 degrees or 104 in the shade. My Grandma Dall (the only name I remember her having) and her husband Ed brought 5 of their six children here in the 40’s to a seriously impoverished area. I never met him so any stories about him will be second hand. Her second husband Grandpa Dall was from the old land, Poland, and earned a living through the depression selling doughnuts.
I’ll talk about my Aunt Zoma, may she rest in peace, and her amazing gardening abilities, cooking skills and storytelling… must run in the family. And that’s not to slight Grandma Dalls gardening and cooking; how I got my strawberry patch, my first garden, compost, raised beds, the gold value of rabbit manure (look for a short video here), possum grape jam, persimmon leather, paw-paws, okra, wild plums, chiggers and tick tape, road kill, the appearance of roadrunners and armadillos in these parts and my own stock tank.
I’ll tell you about the ice storm of 09 and the twin floods of 08, and what a full moon on a clear night reflecting off a fresh snow looks like. You’ll hear about the changling driveway to Moonmooring, dogs and cats, wood furnace 101, Adrians three story treehouse, outdoor showers, lemon drop peppers, and evenings on the porch listening to tree frogs.
I hope you enjoy a recipe once in a while. I’m dying to share some with you especially my three favorite cornbread recipes. Every once in a while there’ll be a poem or short essay usually about life here. I may recommend a book. And I’ll tell you about the Bruchas hanging all over my house.
I plan on sharing stories from and about friends and family, Adrian, my siblings and parents, Mar, Mike… that’s fast becoming an endless list! If you feel shortchanged because you’ve not been listed, give it a rest, I’m sure your name will come up sooner or later.
By the way the photo is me in Greece a few years ago. I was draping myself over a very flimsy balcony on the 10th floor of a very cheesy hotel in the Omonia District in Athens. Scared to death it would give way and I would fall to my demise on the first day wearing nothing but a black slip but determined that with enough coaxing my sister could get a decent shot, I braved the filigree.
Now, a short essay about a warm summer eve.
... whippoorwills chant their praise to the full moon shadow falling softly across the
lawn in long slashes of dusky blue light fireflies twinkle about in a code so ancient
and secret only Mother can decipher as I slip into the woods sucking in lungs full
of warm moist air filled with night scent and damp earth my feet caressed by soft
blades taking their own flight exhaling into the night as I walk the earth
tonight and forever how long can a moment be held …