Yesterday I was about as low as a person gets. Today I’m riding a high that’s shoving me upwards and hopefully, out of my dark dark hole. A dear friend made me an offer to write for her publishing company yesterday, and after talking with my family and partner, I gratefully accepted. Oh it won’t make me rich, at least not any time soon (there is always that hope though..never say never!) but it will allow me to get my written word out there without spending a fortune I don’t have. Details forthcoming. Just suffice to say that today is a lot sunnier than yesterday!
Terri’s Little Corner Has Moved
22 Dec 2011 Leave a comment
Please proceed to the following URL. I’ll be there, anxiously awaiting your arrival.
We’ll have tea! Spiked of course!
terrisonoda.net
I Have Moved
21 Dec 2011 7 Comments
Hello out there all my blog friends and lovelies! I have done it now. I have finally lost my freaking mind completely and decided to build my own website. It is simple. It is raw. And? I have a helluva lot to learn yet.
But.
I can’t wait any longer to move over there. So please get your well-shaped tushes (or however they are shaped) on over to:
You can leave me lots of love over there. I’m turning off comments over here while I figure out how to redirect this damned site.
LOVE YOU ALL. See you on the other side.
Kisses and Hugs and Christmasy Love.
Copperhill and Ducktown Tennessee
18 Dec 2011 17 Comments
in Family, Writing or Blogging Tags: blogging, family, home, memories, travel, writing
Re-publishing a blog about the place I was born. I actually wrote it last year but wanted to share it again. I’m thinking about simpler times today. Reflections, if you will. Hope you enjoy the story of my birth place:
I was born in copper-mining country, in Copperhill, Tennessee, which if you look on a map, is right where Georgia, Tennessee and North Carolina intersect. It is up in the mountains, and is some of the most beautiful country you’ll ever see. Parts of it were not always beautiful, however. When I was growing up, we lived in Atlanta, but made frequent weekend trips to Copperhill and Ducktown to visit family. Back then, some 40 years ago, the hills were barren red clay, with very little vegetation. This was a result of the smelting (heating) process the mining company did to separate the bits of copper from the rest of the rock they pulled from the mines. In order to provide the fuel to heat and extract the copper, they cut down and burned most every tree around. The extraction of copper from the rock released sulfur dioxide, and when it combined with the water in the air, created sulfuric acid. That sulfuric acid fell back down and killed all vegetation within 50 miles. And all that damage was done to Copperhill and Ducktown, Tennessee in just a few short years…..my growing-up years. (Pictures are from google images)
My sister, cousins and I ran and played on those red clay hills. Many times, I remember reporting to my Maw Maw’s kitchen for supper, covered in red mud from head to toe. Maw Maw was my Mom’s oldest sister, and like a grandmother to me, as my grandmother had died before I was born. She promptly yelled at us kids to go outside and hose ourselves off and get rid of that red mud, which was almost impossible, and my sister and I would end up riding all the way back to Atlanta with much of it still stuck in our hair and who knows where else. It did not make my Mom happy, I will assure you! That red clay never came out of any clothes we were wearing, especially the seat of our pants…………..as we slid down some of those steep red clay hills on our butts, which was fun fun fun!
The copper mines closed and eventually, over the years, the vegetation has all grown in, and Ducktown and Copperhill are now beautiful country towns up in the mountains of Tennessee. There is a river called the Ocoee that runs along the highway from Ducktown to Cleveland, Tennessee. It starts out who knows where, and by the time the road starts running along it, the river is not very wide, more like a creek really. Before the Olympics took it over for kayaking and completely changed the landscape of the river, that portion was called “Rock Creek”. Well, it probably still is called Rock Creek…………only difference is, the big boulders and smooth sandstone flat rock that used to clutter the entire width of the river at that point, are gone. There may be some, but the whole area was cleared for the Olympics, and after that, the river became a very popular white water rafting venue. But, way back when I was a kid, we used to go swimming at Rock Creek. There was no swimming pool or water park that could compare with this place! You could stand out in the middle of the river, on one of those boulders, and dive down into a crystal-clear pool of water…….and you’d just keep diving because it was so deep. There were lots of holes and crevices in those boulders, too, and we kids used to swim through them, squirming our way through some mighty narrow spots, as well. People have drowned doing just that, and right there where we swam all those years ago. I don’t know what kept us kids safe, because it surely wasn’t from us being careful. We just had fun.
My mother was from Ducktown, born and raised. Ducktown and Copperhill are only about 7 miles apart, if memory serves. I was born in Copperhill, but we moved away, and visited on holidays and in the summer. Maw Maw’s house was where everyone congregated. She was a preacher, had her own little church down the hill from her house. My Mom was the youngest of all the brothers and sisters, and my Maw Maw was the oldest. Maw Maw is the only one of my Mother’s sibling’s still living, and she’s now in a nursing home.
Life does go on, but some things will never quite match up to what once was…so simple, natural and delightful.
Bah Humbug
16 Dec 2011 31 Comments
in Humor, Writing or Blogging Tags: awful gifting, bah humbug, Christmas, fruitcake, funny, gifting, holidays, humor, Letter to Santa
Dear Mr. Santa Claus:
Excuse me, but I’m writing this letter to inform you that I’m skipping Christmas this year, and I’m plugging up the chimney so there’s no need for you to try and stuff your big old butt down there.
What?
You heard me. I don’t have time for this Yule tide crap and putting up the pesky tree and baking sugar cookies shaped like, well, you. Who made you up anyway? You aren’t very attractive, and I’d venture to say, you, sir, are no fashion plate. I mean, seriously, that jacket and those suspenders are vintage something from the weird ages. I usually don’t mind people dressing casually when they come into my home, but red pajamas? Really?
So, excuse me while I try to find another way to celebrate the holidays. Santa Claus…less. I know it can be done. The Jewish folks manage just fine, quite beautifully actually. And who wouldn’t like a present everyday for Hanukkah. I’m all about the presents. I just don’t want to work too hard for them. If I work the system through you, Santa, I have to bust my ass with all the yuletide and jingle-belly traditions, scary distant relatives and the dreaded deluge of Jell-O molds.
Mistletoe for example. Really? What were you thinking with the mistletoe, Santa? Don’t you get enough loving from Mrs. Santa during the off-season? In all my days of celebrating the holidays, no one has ever been under that mistletoe with me that I would actually want to kiss. Can you imagine the germs? The bad breath? Uncle Harold’s brown false teeth? Great Auntie Marjorie’s snuff spittle? No thank you. I’ll pass on the mistletoe. I don’t’ brush my teeth and use mouthwash to get spit-washed by Cousin James’ 12 inch tongue. His wife might enjoy “all that” and more power to her.
Oh and Santa? One of my readers recently called me Ms. Scrooge, and I would like to officially take issue with that. When it comes to Christmas, the ONE thing I truly love is to give presents. If I have money (or any room on my dozens of credit cards), my family and friends are going to be spoiled rotten with goodies. I don’t like shopping, but I can push, paw and purchase with the best of them when it comes to getting a good deal. And shopping online? Oh baby. For me it’s better than internet porn. Not that I would know of such things. But still…
Maybe what I need to do is just invent my own celebration. Take you completely out of it, Santa boy. Leave the Christmas ham in. Take the mistletoe out. Leave the hot cocktail waitress dressed up like Santa’s helper in. Take the egg nog out. Leave all the rest of the alcohol in.
What? I live in Vegas. You celebrate your way. I’ll celebrate mine.
Yes, Santa, this could work. Except I have a bone to pick with you. I just hate it when I get presents that I don’t want. I remember my Aunt Loraine (bless her heart and may she still be resting in peace after I call her out like this) bringing over presents to our house for me and my sister. Every year, I would get so excited with anticipation and then every year I would open up Aunt Loraine’s gift and it would be underwear. Every freaking year. What’s up with that business, Santa? Couldn’t you have intervened at some point and stopped all the knickers-madness? Seriously.
Isn’t that the definition of insanity? “Doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results”. Every year I had new hope for Auntie’s gift, and every year my hopes were dashed by the bloomers. Sad.
Anyway, Santa, we were discussing the awful gifts? You know, the ones like the seven-days-of-the-week panties pack, the 50 cent box of chocolate covered cherries, the costume jewelry, the fruitcake and the lava lamp? I could go on and on. Something needs to be done about awful gifts, Santa Claus. I think I can help you out here, as I have a business degree and I’m all about project management. So, what you should do is, put together a sub-committee to research and discuss awful gifting, then have them report to you on a bi-weekly basis until they come up with a solution Why bi-weekly? I just like saying Bi. (snort).
One solution to this awful gifting dilemma might be to go into a store and put your gift preferences into a computer, like brides do when they register. I sure as hell wouldn’t be listing knickers, either, so Auntie would be having a fit. But she’s not here, so this just might work! Have your sub-committee look into it, Santa, will ya? If I receive one more jingle-bells singing fish I’m going to scream.
In closing, Santa, maybe I won’t plug up my chimney after all. I don’t want to go against tradition. I like popcorn in those giant tins as much as the next girl. Just please bring something cool this year, like an iPhone or a Corvette……….or a redhead. I promise you I have been a very good girl.
What? Santa? No, my fingers are not crossed behind my back!
(How’d he know?)
Sincerely,
Terri
(Images from Google Images)
Sponsored Post: Storage Auctions
14 Dec 2011 9 Comments
in Sponsored Tags: direct tv, storage wars
Guest post by Gerard Mcdaniel
I logged onto http://www.direct.tv/ and updated our television package. I have started watching a show that I am absolutely, totally obsessed with. The show is called “Storage Wars”. Just last week they came out with another installment of the show, “Storage Wars: Texas”. Apparently, if you have a storage unit and you don’t pay your bill, or you abandon your unit for some reason or the other, the owner of the storage building has the right to auction off your things to the public. The show follows a group of people who are always going to “Storage Wars”. There are five colorful characters that all compete at the same storage auctions all over California. They do mean things to aggravate each other, like driving the prices up for bidding. The coolest thing about the show is that they when they do bid on a unit and win it, that you get to see them go through the unit and see what they find. Sometimes they find really great things that have really high resale value, but sometimes they also loose and buy a storage unit that is full of lots of junk. It being hit or miss is really part of the allure of the show.
Disclosure: This was a paid post. Links were provided.
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