Category: Extended Family

These last few days, I’ve been remembering my sister-in-law Kathy. Her birthday is today. Most often I like to think of Kathy in her garden where she grew beautiful lilies and hosta and other perennials. But I also remember that Kathy loved nature in other ways as well. She loved all kinds of animal babies, especially when they were born with handicaps, and especially when they were rejected by their parents. Those helpless little odd balls got right to Kathy’s heart. She could even love handicapped baby birds when they were in their very ugliest stage….you know what I mean…..when they look as if there is nothing to them except a huge mouth and naked skin.

I am amazed at how much compassion and careful attention were required of Kathy in helping the fledglings to survive, to stay warm, and to grow. I have so much respect for her open-mindedness and acceptance of the not-so-perfect little creatures. I like to consider what I think are the beautiful parts of Kathy’s endeavors. First of all, I don’t think Kathy saw the little animal babies as hopeless. She must have had confidence that she could help make their lives better. And secondly, the creatures themselves responded to Kathy’s loving care and proved she was right.

Happy birthday in heaven, Kathy

I’m thinking about Mary Lou because the anniversary of her birthday is tomorrow. I like to remember when she and I did not know each other and were brand new freshmen at Middleburg High School. I remember that each morning Mary Lou came to school late because of a late bus. It would have embarrassed a lot of students to walk into Mrs. Brock’s home room late each day with most of the other students watching. But Mary Lou seemed so poised and confident. And of course, everybody including the girls, were thinking about how pretty she looked and how neat she was. (If you have seen the picture of Mary Lou and Ronald’s wedding, you have seen what I mean.)

Now for an instant, I live again just how it was to be that young and full of dreams and plans. It’s a lovely memory.

Green Haven Farm is a space where loving family members abide and extend welcome to larger circles. It is a haven of growing things, a special farm well planned for a warm center that family and others can enjoy and dream of enjoying when they are away.

You can find Green Haven Farm where the road bends gently right then continues past blooming bushes, a bed of hosta, and a waving old glory. You come to rest under omnipresent trees: one ancient beech and three old maples with canopies that have guarded and tended old family and new family through every turn of many seasons. Farms are special at any time. They involve an intimacy with and respect for nature. From the first song of the blue bird in spring to the foot prints of woodland visitors in winter, abundant life is always here. Continue reading “Green Haven Farm”

Do you remember the pots of pretty flowers that Marcella used to place in a row across her front porch? They would make any visitor admire them and feel welcome.

One time after Kim and I had been visiting our family in Kentucky, we decided not to go straight home. We wanted to go by Frank and Marcella’s house even though we knew no one would be there. We waited there in the quietness, remembering so many past times.. Suddenly a bob white called out. His call sounded so clear and strong. He just called one time. But it seemed as if he was telling us he was glad we had stopped by. We were glad, too.

My brother Donald once said, “It’s so quiet in the country, the quiet hurts your ears.”  

The Willie Williams’ home place on Ragged Ridge has been quiet a long, long time.  But there is still life there, especially in spring.  The dog wood tree near the woodland blooms white each April; wild flowers grow fresh and fragrant at the  base of the Willie Bluff; and blue birds build nests in the fence rows  behind the garden.

Ernest said he could remember when the Uncle Willie house was still standing.  Uncle Willie’s son John told Donald that he could recall the day they moved from there to Calvary Ridge.  The farm they were leaving was one of several smaller farms occupying a few acres, just a few acres, just large enough to raise a cow, to raise a garden, to grow corn for the pigs, to sow a wheat field.  That was the nature of all the small farms comprising his father John Frank Williams’ original settlement.

Continue reading “Uncle Willie’s home”