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darlin

NaNoWriMo

Ok, I love the idea of NaNoWriMo, however I have two issues with it, besides the obvious one of actually getting words down to write.
1. I'm not a follower or joiner - I'm stubbornly trudging down my own path, and if you are going in the same general direction, I'll smile and nod, and lend a hand to help you along - but you can't force me to go your way.
2. As a month to select for focusing on actually doing one extra thing every day, November sucks several types of toe-jam for me. It's short, its dark, chores are more difficult, and I have to do the usual bookkeeping and prepare for a fiscal year-end that for all practical purposes occurs not on Dec 31, but in the neighborhood of 10th.
however, due to the fact that I didn't get to actually do any of the writing I'd planned to do while on vacation, combined with a road-trip taken mostly by myself, I've got an outline of a story in my head.
so I woke up at 5:30 this morning, and the story wanted to come out.
I am not going to commit myself to the offical NaNo program until it's more coherent, but I'll try posting snippets as I go. If I'm at 15k words by the weekend, I may consider making it official, but will welcome comments.
Just remember that as many things as have lurked in my head all these years, focused, coherent, deadline-meeting writing is new to my world.
Since I can't focus on html coding right now, and to save space, I will post said snippets in comments rather than directly in my journal.
not the best way, but this may also make the blogging a little each day work better as well.
thank you for your time,

Comments

Of course, the title is what its all about -

and the title that's wormed around in my head is:
My Love is a Red Red Roan

I never knew for sure what the neighbors thought of my momma, but I do know they would often come with their problems and expect her to fix them in ways they couldn’t or wouldn’t try themselves.
I guess in their eyes, herbs and long talks, poultices and strange bathing rituals would have been considered witchy ways, no matter how practical the reasons for doing things that way. Of course, any woman who managed to make do without her man most of the time, was subject to a lot of speculation by her neighbors. I guess there will always be folks who speak ill of those who are different, and those would be the ones who called her a witch, but only behind her back, and never when they needed her to heal themselves, their family members, or their animals.

We lived in a cozy dog-trot cabin built up a holler from the creek with a spring, protected by a stout stone building, to supply year-round water piped into our kitchen. We had a nice barn and corrals built on a level area just under the edge of the highest hill in the county, and just a short way up the holler, if you knew where to look, there was a narrow opening in the rock that led into a cave where we spent a fair bit of time in bad weather.

The local hills were the old, worn bones of ancient mountains that produced fine oak, elm, hickory, black walnut and dogwood trees. Fine rich prairie grasses grew wherever the forest could be cleared, but the biggest crop in near any field was agreed by everyone to be rocks. From boulders to gravel, there was an abundance of stone material for local building on any homestead, and most cabins, like ours, had fine stone foundations.

Momma said that the limestone hills made the water from the many springs round about sweeter, and made strong and healthy the cattle and horses who grazed among them.

Like our neighbors, we had a milk cow, a few goats, and pigs running in the woods, but our cash each year came from the mules. We had a few fine mares and one jack who produced two or three mules a year. We’d keep the mules until they were three or four and well-trained to ride and work, then sell working teams to people who had been waiting for them. As long as I could remember, the price of a team was enough to provide us with cash or trade goods to buy what we needed in town each year.


Re: Of course, the title is what its all about -

Momma kept a good garden, watered by the spring. In addition to the usual vegetables grown by our neighbors, there was an orchard and an herb bed that probably brought in more cash than anything else we raised. She said that because of the spring the medicinal herbs were able to do their work so well. The cave provided us a place to store the dried herbs and fruit, and to keep the canned fruits from frweezing in the winter. All over the county you could find good clean springs of water, trickling into creeks. South of us was a river formed whole and strong by the biggest spring, and all the creeks would flow into it. On summer days, the blue waters were cool and refreshing. The same waters, when the winds turned cold, formed a steamy fog in the winter and seldom iced over.