Thursday, July 10, 2014

Dreams of long ago...

Last night there was a lovely storm filled with thunder shaking the house and rain pounding itself against the roof. I slept with the windows wide open and a contented smile on my face as I drifted off to dreams. When I woke the remnants of a song played in my mind and stayed with me throughout the day. "It's Now or Never" by John Schneider. Yes, you read that right. I was nine years old when that was playing on the radio. It was the last summer we were in Luray, Tennessee and I remember sitting on the back stairs and thinking that it was kind of cool that Bo Duke could also sing. Well, the guy who played Bo... I did know the difference between actors and their characters. (A side note: I didn't hear Elvis's version until I was married to Bruce.)

Gazing ball
I don't recall the dream, but a lot of feelings and thoughts have been running through my mind. Mostly along the lines of how happy we were in Tennessee. The little farmstead of ours was a bit of heaven to me and I know it was to my mother as well. There was a feeling of peace there that I didn't experience in any other place we lived. Fresh goat's milk each morning, eggs from our growing flock of hens, vegetables from our garden in the back, and various foods that we traded with our neighbors. Even the scary parts, like the water moccasins and the copperheads didn't really tarnish that time in my life. Sometimes I think that's where I'm trying to return to during my meditations. The huge oak tree that I spent countless hours beside, reading and dreaming, running around with Maggie (our baby goat), picking dandelions to "cook" in my pretend pots & pans, watching the ants crawl along in their single-file paths around the roots. I remember running with my mom to the back yard to help gather the laundry off the line before the rains hit then sitting on the front porch reveling in the sound of the thunder (we could only play in the rain after the lightning had passed). I can remember laying my my bed and listening to the windows rattle when the storms would come at night.

So many of my happiest memories are wrapped up in that house on the hill. I know that I'd not feel the same if I returned there, and so, I might never look up the old address and see if the house is still standing. Even so, the thought occurs more than not.

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