King's Mountain

Pardon the lousy graphic -- image ripped from Amazon and it's none too good.

But -- the book itself is wonderful! This is my second 'ballad' novel by Sharyn McCrumb, and while it wasn't quite as entertaining as The Ballad of Tom Dooley, which I read a year or two ago, it's a good story.

The author specializes in well-researched historical novels set in North Carolina and Tennessee. She uses facts -- real people and documented events -- and builds good reads around them. Tom Dooley was a real person -- real name, Thomas Dula, and his story was true.

This book chronicles a two-week interval in 1780 where a bunch of mountain men banded together, militias from various states (Virginia, North and South Carolina, North Georgia) with one common goal: to find and battle the British Army Major Patrick Ferguson who was roaming the mountains. The main players in the story are real people -- from historical records, genealogical records and such. The victory at King's Mountain was considered by Thomas Jefferson and others as the turning point in the American Revolution. I'm afraid I kept my eyes on Google maps to follow their path from "overmountain" on the northwest side of Roan Mountain in what is now Tennessee, right on the border of North Carolina, to the battlefield.

As the author states, King's Mountain was a veritable "Who's Who" of the frontier south. Although not all mentioned in the book, the roster of men  included the first governor of Tennessee, the first governor of Kentucky, the brother-in-law of Virginia governor Patrick Henry, Davy Crockett's father, Robert E. Lee's father, and the grandfather of North Carolina's Civil War governor, Zebulon Vance.

It also included a much-less-exalted ancestor of mine: Pendleton Isbell, who served with Benjamin Cleveland from Wilkes County, NC. This wasn't Pendleton's first Revolutionary War battle, either. He also served with George Washington at Valley Forge and Brandywine, but this time he was defending his home territory. McCrumb mentions some Isbell's in The Ballad of Tom Dooley, but not Pendleton. That story takes place in and around Wilkes County, so her Isbells are also bound to be relatives of mine, one way or another.

I'm definitely planning to read more of her work. If you like history or just good fiction, maybe you should give her a try.

Some cemetery success

Kind of hard to read, which is why I was always confused by this stone marker. The only Mrs. J.H. Perry that made any sense was Lucinda Perry, wife of James Hood Perry, my other great-grandparents on my dad's side. I took this photo two years ago when I first found it. Yesterday, I used the chalk technique but that didn't help a lot other than making us think the death date might be 1931 instead of 1881, which is how I'd read it previously. The timing just wasn't right for Lucinda.

But, Susie's contact at the church called her last night and confirmed that according to their records this is indeed Lucinda, who died in 1931, and that there are two unmarked graves beside her. One of those is her husband, James Hood Perry, and while the other was unknown to them, it's most likely James Perry's mother, Martha Caroline Perry who is also supposed to be buried here. So -- one more mystery solved. And solving mysteries is what genealogy is all about.

Walking Cemeteries

Met my cousin Susie in Rockmart early this morning and we set off in search of long-dead ancestors at three different cemeteries. Actually, there were ancestors at only two of them -- the third is one I was looking for to help a different cousin.  That was our first stop, and we didn't find them even though I found photos of the headstones online a couple of days ago.

At the second stop, in the community of Wax, we had better luck. Susie actually knew where these were so finding them was easy. I have been to this cemetery twice in search of them, but didn't find them. Looking at the photo, you might wonder why it was so difficult -- but it's actually old and very hard to read. I used a cemetery survey trick I learned from the cemetery preservation group I belonged to, and used plain old sidewalk chalk to highlight the raised areas, making everything nice and clear. These are my great-grandparents on my father's side.

Then, we went to another cemetery I've been to a couple of times before and neither of us had any luck in finding anyone. But, this is an old cemetery and there are a lot of unmarked graves, so that may well be our problem. Since it was a weekday, we went to the church and Susie got a phone number of the person who has all the old cemetery records. We'll see what comes of that.

And then we headed on into Rome just because we were close, had lunch, returned to Rockmart and I came on home. And I'm pooped, but it was a good morning and I was glad to spend time with Susie and to find at least one grave.

A new project for me

I've been getting a bit bored with so much time on my hands and so little interest in doing anything really active, so I've found a new pastime: helping index the recently released 1940 census. As you might suspect, this involves reading what's on the hand-written pages then entering that information into a database form. I've done 5 or 6 pages thus far, and I must tell you that I have a new-found respect for the people in past years who have transcribed various censuses, many of which I have made good use of.

As a researcher, I'm well aware of how difficult it often is to read the handwriting on the original forms, but when you're looking for a specific name, it's a little easier to decipher sometimes. Here, because I feel an obligation to other researchers to get it right, and I struggle to do so, but sometimes it's pure guesswork. Fortunately, the pages where I have to guess get sent off to be reviewed by someone else, who may or may not have more luck reading the written word.

And, to top it off, the last page and a half I transcribed had the pink 'cursor' off kilter -- traveling a line above the one I was supposed to be entering, thus forcing me to be even more careful to get the right info off the right line. And yes, I'm sure the cursor was on the wrong lines. On the last page I did, it began with 'line 1' actually highlighting the printed column headers rather than the first line of data, and I made certain that the line numbers I was entering corresponded with the line numbers on the form. I opted to stop for the time being in the hopes that next time I login they will have this issue fixed.

Want to help? Click here and then click 'get started'. You download the software, sign up for an account, and get going. I found it interesting that this begins with the official 1940 census page, but when you want to pull up the first batch to work with, their 'priority' projects have nothing to do with the census. You need to select 'see all projects' in order to get to a larger list that does include unfinished portions of this census. I opted to work in Georgia, for my fellow locals. I'm guessing the 'FamilySearch' group is actually the LDS Church, which is fine by me. The information will be distributed to other genealogy centers.

Those darned ancestors!

I've spent a fair amount of quality time today scrolling through the 1940 census that was just released, looking for my parents and grandparents and such. Found them all, too, plus a bunch more. It's just entertainment for me at the moment.

Last week I had lunch with a cousin on my father's side who I haven't seen for about 50 years! She was eleven then, I was 18.  She's run circles around me when it comes to the details of genealogy on these people, and she had some stories to tell. A second marriage for my grandfather (which I heard from another older relative a few years back, but had no details about), and a scandal all wrapped up in it. The woman, as far as we can tell, was someone who worked on the beauty parlor side of the barber shop. Susie doesn't know the exact details, but it seems that the woman called herself 'divorced' when she wasn't, and my grandfather had the marriage annulled when he found out. Or something like that.  My grandfather was listed on the census with my father, my aunt and her oldest daughter. No wife! Although, I found the supposed wife listed in town, still working in a beauty parlor.

Tomorrow, I plan to visit the county courthouse and go through the marriage books for the appropriate years and see if I can find a record of his second marriage. Not quite sure how to go about finding a record of any annulment, but we'll deal with that when we come to it.

Susie also heard from her mother (my father's sister) that our grandfather was in the KKK! Not shocking for the time, but shocking to me in that this is my PaPa we're talking about! He was the light of my young life, the kindest, sweetest, gentlest man a person could ever imagine. In the Klan????? Yep, I'm shocked.

I found my grandmother on my mother's side living in Cedartown as a lodger, along with her oldest daughter. The other kids, my mother included, lived with their dad in Esom Hill. I found all kinds of other folks that have to be relatives, even though I didn't recognize all their names offhand. My mom's family has been in Esom for a couple of hundred years, and since all the early families intermarried, all the offspring over the generations are related.

I also found the family I bought my house from, living in the house in 1940! That was kind of cool, for some odd reason. Continuity, I guess.

I could have found more, I'm sure, but the entertainment value has waned for now.

Blast from the Past

I got a phone call out of the blue the other night from a long-lost first cousin in Michigan, who told me they'd been looking for me for a couple of years (for genealogical purposes).  Oddly enough, her existence came my way within this past year and I spent some time trying to find her, with no luck.  Didn't help that I didn't have her married name. Unfortunately, the email addy she gave me doesn't work, but I do have her phone number and that of another cousin near Atlanta, so I can reach her once my land line disappears. And it will disappear.

Anyway -- through the course of that conversation she told me she had my wedding photo announcement from the local newspaper.  Now, I didn't even know this existed!  You'd think my mother, or grandmother, or somebody who was still in Cedartown a few days after the wedding, would have clipped this and sent it to me. And maybe they did -- let's give them the benefit of the doubt.  However, I have no memory of ever having seen this and I have no memory of even sitting for the photo.

It wasn't a fancy wedding (newspaper hype not-withstanding), and I have no idea who took the photo or how the info got to the newspaper, but clearly, it did.  Yesterday was the first chance I had to go to the library and hit their microfilm library. Didn't take long at all to find this -- after all, while I don't remember the photo, I do remember the event and the date. I look a bit terrified -- but I think that was because I was uncomfortable in front of the camera, a state that continues to this day. I like being behind a camera, not in front of one.

The print from microfilm isn't very good, but I just had to post this because I think it's such a kick.  I was 18 years old, newly returned to Cedartown from Germany, where I'd lived on a big army base with my mom and military dad.  I designed the dress, such as it was, and my mom made it. The lace jacket came off to reveal a simple scooped-neck cocktail-length dress made of what is essentially parachute silk, or as the article calls it, cloud silk.  I can't remember what happened to the dress exactly -- I know I gave it to somebody a couple of years later, but I don't remember who. It may have been the daughter of a family I knew in Germany. Somebody who needed a prom dress or something.

Oh, for a return to even a partial size as that! I had an 18-inch waist and weighed under 100 lbs. Alas, that will never happen again.

A Trip Into Family History

Tuesday night I had a long-postponed meeting with my cousins in Alabama, just across the state line. Our common ancestor, William Elliott Williams, moved to this area in the early 1800's and became a large landowner, had many children by two different wives.  He was from North Carolina.  Last year the Williams researchers asked Roy, the cousin I met Tuesday night, to do a DNA test proving the entire lineage back to a Jones Williams, b. 1731.  A straight-line male descendant is needed to do these tests, and Roy fits that bill.

Roy and I are descended from two different sons of William Elliott Williams and his first wife, whose name is unknown.  I was told years ago by an elderly great-uncle that she was 'a Bagwell from Temple, GA'.  The 1850 census shows her first initial as "H".  That's all we know.  William fathered three sets of twins (which run in the family).  Roy is descended from one of these twins, I am descended from another brother. Roy and his wife live on William's original homestead.

Update: For those of you who have an interest in this descendency, we've learned more about William's wives. It seems that Harriet Bagwell is probably not my ancestor. We found a marriage license in Paulding County, GA for these two, dated May 11, 1850, a good while after William's first group of kids were born. After that, we realized that something we'd seen for years in the Rutherford County, NC Marriage book was probably our William. We'd ignored it previously because we were focused on H. Bagwell from Georgia. A William Williams [not an uncommon name around there] married a Nancy Johnson on December 19, 1832.That fits in with the timeline of William's move to Alabama as well.  The first census we have him on in Alabama, in 1840. It seems probable that Nancy Johnston is the mother of William's early children, since he did not marry Harriett Bagwell until 1850.  Further research is needed to prove this. Harriet Bagwell died before 1860, since by that census William was married to Elizabeth. It seems unlikely that there were any children from that marriage, as William's youngest child before his family with Elizabeth was born around 1847, and would have been from Nancy (unless Nancy died earlier and Harriett had children with William before they were married.)

This is the view over the back pastures and fields of the old homestead, from the new home.

William's original barn and outbuilding.  The road leads back to the new house on a hill behind the trees.

The gravestone for William and his second wife, Elizabeth, lies hidden in the brush in an old, abandoned and unkept cemetery called Baker Hill.  William is my great-great-great-grandfather.  Without doubt, his first wife is also buried up here someplace, in a grave that is either unmarked or lost in the undergrowth.

A portion of the Williams Family Cemetery, called Cherry Grove Cemetery.

Augusta Williams is one of the twins, brother to the twin from which Roy is descended.

Gush, or Gushton, is Roy's ancestor.

Andy is the brother from whom I am descended

His wife Nicey, whose maiden name was Pence.

On my way home I had to take a detour because the main highway was closed down due to an accident.  The secondary route took me by this old church, Shiloh Baptist Church in Esom Hill, where most of the rest of my family is buried.  I took a drive up through the cemetery, on the hill in the rear, but it was late and I was tired, so those will need to wait for another day.

It was a fascinating evening.  I drove and listened to them talk and tell tales for about three hours, over hill and dale, over dirt and gravel roads, to hidden churches and old cemeteries, into the heart of my Williams ancestry.

Blooming Grove Cemetery, Polk County Georgia

Despite all my grumbling and whining (all of which was actually half-hearted and good-natured), I enjoyed the morning of work with the cemetery committee more than I've enjoyed anything for a long time.  I'm always happy to be outside in the sunshine, but before the morning was over I also felt a sense of belonging, of being a part of a community, which is something I've felt very rarely in my life.  It was a good feeling.

It didn't hurt that sense of belonging to find these markers for my great-great-grandparents.  I knew they were buried here, but had never been here before.  Their daughter, Fannie, was my grandmother's mother. 

It's a wonderful old church -- long abandoned.  This was a 'before' photo.  Both the mess around the big tree and around the iris patch were cleared during the day.

Another 'before' photo, early morning before work began.  A neighbor had volunteered to mow it earlier in the week, so all we had to do was fine-tuning.

This whole corner was cleaned out -- saplings and overgrowth.

Lots of brush and tree trimmings were hauled to the curb, where the county will pick them up.

I loved the idea that after all these years somebody keeps flowers blooming where this infant was buried in 1938.

After -- they tell me this cemetery hasn't looked this good for a long time!

I love the Ben Franklin quote: "Show me your cemeteries and I will tell you what kind of people you have".

We only worked until noon or so, but of course had to eat lunch, stand around and talk genealogy and ghost-hunting for awhile.  I got home with plenty of time to head to Sherwin-Williams and get some paint for the new trim (and the rest of the woodwork).  I was bemoaning the fact that I'd missed the 30% off sale last weekend, and he told me they were having a 40% off sale starting this Friday -- so you know I'll be stopping there on my way home from work Friday!  Got the first coat of primer on the trim.  It didn't go on very evenly so I'll have to sand smooth and coat again tomorrow.  But, that's ok.  It'll be ready for Jeff to cut and install whenever he makes it by here again.

Pork, Peaches, Apples and Cemeteries

Ahh -- this is what I drove 2.5 hours each way to get -- southern fried pies. This one is peach, the other apple.  Having tasted both, the peach wins.  They're fresh, too -- there were a couple of women visible in the kitchen making more.  For you Yankees, it's just another southern tradition you have to try in order to appreciate. And yes, I could have gotten these locally, but it was all about the quest for memories, and for those, I needed to go someplace specific. 

The rest of the quest -- fresh Elberta peaches and Gala apples, right off the tree.  Would you believe only $4 for each pile?  A bargain!  I asked the woman about the small, juicy peaches I remember and she had a name for them that I've already forgotten, (White Lady?) but they were all gone.  Makes sense that they were an early season variety, as I did most of my weed trimming on the Trail in the spring and early summer (with a hand sling blade, y'all, for about 2 miles of trail.  No Weedeaters here!).

The grail -- as best I remember it, anyway.  There are a lot of farm stands up here, but I remember enough details that this almost has to be the right one.  And, does it really matter? It was certainly the right one today.

Poole's BBQ Pig Hill of Fame. Unlike my last visit, the sun was shining and the parking lot was filled with cars from all over the state and several other states.  I like their food, despite the photos ops and stories of visits by George W. Bush and Pat Robertson.

This really needs sound effects -- there were pork oinking and grunting sounds coming from these cars.  I'm surprised they weren't rocking.

Along the way, I'd mapped out three old cemeteries to visit.  Found all three of them, which is rather amazing all by itself.  My second great-grandparents (part of that troublesome Smith Family) are supposed to be buried here, but I didn't find any stones for them.  There are lots of unreadable markers and plenty of graves only marked with plain stone at the head and foot.  I may have just missed them by not looking at the 'newer' section.  I didn't have notes with me, but she died in 1925 which might put her in the newer section -- I was thinking it was much earlier.  Oh, well.

It was a big place -- lots of old markers and even a couple of crypts.

I don't know if this will be readable even if you click to enlarge.  Interesting history of the cemetery and area.

This was the second cemetery, where I was primarily helping out a cousin in Oklahoma.  I found lots of people here, including the brother of my 3rd great-grandfather on my mother's side, his wife and several of their kids.  Plus unknown (to me) assorted other family names, all of which I've passed on to my cousin. The third cemetery was a bust -- although there were more unmarked graves than marked ones and I only had a general family name, no specific names.  I was getting tired of cemeteries, and hungry for pork, by that time anyway, so I headed on north.

All in all, a lovely day.  Fog filled the air when I left home at 8:30am, but by the time I reached the cemeteries all had burned away and the sun shone brightly.  Took about 8 hours, in all, mostly driving, but I feel great. As always, lots of sentiment as I drove those old familiar highways and byways.  I'd take a turn on a 'new' road, and then think, "I remember this...." although I could not have said why I'd have been on that particular road.  In those days I think I traveled almost every road there is up there, finding a way to get from Atlanta to some particular trailhead or, often, me finding a way to get to Cedartown or Rome after a hike in order to visit my mom.  Those were long, long days!

The Confusing Smith Family

My great-grandparents on my father's side -- Asberry Charles Smith and Martha Haygood Smith, at their farm in Cherokee County, Georgia.  Probably taken in 1930's.

OK -- I know genealogy is a big yawn for some of you, so you might want to just skip this post.  Smiles.

I spent a couple of hours this morning working with this family, which has always been confusing.  We know who they all are, but proving it for DAR is a lot different from 'knowing'.  The problem here is that so many of the names in question -- William Smith, Elizabeth Smith -- are so common.  Asberry's parents were first cousins (please, no snickering about the inbred south here): Manson's father (William) and Sarah's mother (Elizabeth) were brother and sister.  Go back another generation or so and you have a father and son who both fought in the Revolution and are documented by DAR as such.  I have their wills.  

Sarah's father was Moses Asberry Waters, who is also documented by DAR.  I have three avenues here for filing a supplemental ancestor or two, but no listed DAR members come down from either William or Elizabeth, so I have to prove it.  Proving Manson is a son of William is easy enough, but proving that this William Smith and this Elizabeth Smith are the children mentioned in the will of their father, Charles, is documentation I just don't have at this moment. It seems that I remember seeing something official that mentions Manson and connects him to his wife's family and thus Moses, but I sure can't remember what that was.  And I have tons of documentation.  I'm still working to get it all on my database.

Now, it's fairly clear to me that Sarah named her son (Asberry Charles) after her father (Moses Asberry Waters) and for her and Manson's grandfather (Charles Smith).  Asberry is not that common a name, after all.  But I don't think the DAR will accept names as proof.  They're a fussy bunch, which is what makes them so darned good.

Actually, what I have is probably enough, but since it costs a good bit of money to file an application, I want to have lots of proof to go with it.  The DAR does not work on 'maybe' or 'possibly'.  It has to be proven. I've emailed a cousin who has tons of info on this family to see if she has anything in her files on any one of them. I don't care which one I file on -- happy to take the easiest way out and go for the others later.  Or, not at all.  I already have one on my mother's side and it would be fun to have one on my father's side as well, but more than one on each side?  Costs money and reeks of ego.  I may do it regardless.  Giggles.

I always leave this family with my head spinning.  Lots of Smith kids married lots of Waters kids, so the names are deeply intertwined.  For the moment, I think I have them straight in my head, but that's not likely to last for long!

How's Your Holiday Weekend?

The new compost bin next to the old one, after turning yesterday morning and after the lawn was mowed yesterday afternoon. I really should have waited, but wasn't sure when James would get to the lawn.

We have rain here in the deep south.  Not all day, but for the last two days beginning in the afternoon and going through most of the night, leaving the air hot and muggy.  And no, it's not always like that here.  It can be hot, but the mugginess generally comes about after a rainfall.  I've managed a few outdoor chores, but also have plenty to do inside and/or on the front porch, so it's not cramping my style much.

My Saturday began (as always!?) with an early morning run to Home Depot.  I needed more chicken wire, a board for some repair in the attic, and some heavy duty sandpaper.  The chicken wire went into the new compost bin, above.  I came up with what I thought was a clever idea one night recently when I should have been asleep: use the 3-foot bamboo poles I have to close the bins!  I simply weave them through the overlapped ends of the 3-foot chicken wire, then when I want to move them, I can just pull the bamboo out and re-weave the ends.  It's easier for me to move the bin and then fork the old stuff into it, because I don't have to struggle to get the stuff from inside the confines of the wire.  It's enough of a workout as it is.

Found this in the very bottom of the old compost bin.  What is it, you ask?  Tis a Mango.  I toss all my kitchen waste into this bin and it tends to disappear quickly.  I've been eating lots of mangoes because they've been cheap and delicious, never expected any of the seeds to sprout.  Guess it liked all that warmth down there.  Stuck it into a raised bed for the time being -- doubt that it will grow well, but why not give it a chance?

Then, off I went in search of a couple of old cemeteries, en route to a party at my boss's house out in that same area.  I left home a couple of hours early, armed with some Google maps to get me where I needed to go.  Never did find one of them, but the other was easily found.

A small portion of the old section of Spring Creek Cemetery, in the old Chulio District of Floyd County.  Both of my father's sets of grandparents lived out in this area, with some of the Smith's supposedly buried at the one I couldn't find and some of the Perry's buried at this one.  Most of these old stones are unmarked or, if they are marked are hard to read.  I didn't find the exact person I was looking for, but I definitely found some of the right family.

I've had to do lots of sweeping away of water on the black plastic this last week, but that's ok.  It's still easier than digging out the sod! Don't want to leave any mosquito breeding grounds here.

The grass area I sprayed the other day is really dry and dead now.  The green you see amidst the brown is mostly, if not all, cuttings from the lawn mower.  

The Cosmos are about to start blooming -- looking forward to that.

I noticed in the rains last week that this area around the foundation and steps just became a pool of water, despite the ugly brown snake.  In looking at it, I realized that the snake went uphill ever so slightly, funneled the water onto that hillside, where it drained right back down the hill.  Yesterday I dug this ugly trench and tiny collecting pool at the end of the snake, and it worked, surprisingly.  So now, do you think I can transform this into...

this...

and this?

Rather a tall order, I'm thinking, particularly since I'm working with a different yard layout and clearly, a far more limited budget!  But, I'm also thinking that I can approximate this with the area I do have, with a little time and imagination.  I just need to give it some thought, then start planning and bit by bit, make it happen.

In case you are wondering, I really haven't abandoned the window project, have been mulling it all over in my mind and doing a little work here and there.  Most of the inside wood is cleared and sanded, although not quite paint ready.  It's taken lots of time and effort, and this morning I opted to apply one more layer of Citristrip to certain portions that were being very, very stubborn. Later, I'll go out on the front porch and work with one of the panes.  I've found that HD carries molding to replace the pieces Phil had to break in order to remove the upper pane, so no need to figure out how to repair that OR get the paint off it.  Cheap and easy solution.  They also carry moldings that will replace the stops that hold the lower pane in place, and trim both vertical sides and the upper horizontal side.  Again, easier than stripping paint off.  I don't have a solution figured for that upper pane yet, which is probably best simply replaced, if I can find an old one someplace that fits.  But, I'm still making progress, albeit slowly.

Found pine nuts at Kroger this morning (!) so a heavy harvest of basil is on the agenda later this afternoon and I'll be ignoring the 'no grains' aspect of my diet for a day or two.  I have to have pesto at least once a summer, and I have to tell you that no subsequent batches ever taste quite so good as the first of each season.

And also -- I'm really full of news today -- I found a farm in Rockmart (about 15 minutes from home) that sells raw milk, free range eggs, pastured poultry and pork, and grass-fed beef.  Can't wait to go visit them!

On the Brighter Side

I love patty pan squash, can't wait until these get big enough to eat.  They don't have to get a lot bigger, but there needs to be more of them before I can have a proper meal.  Sure hope the production increases as the plants grow more!

I'm not sure I feel much different about the windows this morning, but I did think it was time to write about something a bit more positive.  The garden is doing really well, looking healthy, and producing young veggies and fruits that look great.  I've already harvested some of the Maribel french green beans, and a tasty lot they were.  I guess the blitz of organic supplements I added to the soil awhile back did the trick.  I still find it interesting, however, that one whole bed seems to produce better than the other whole bed.  Maybe it's just my imagination, because both should have exactly the same soil and amendments. Both grow different crops, too, aside from the nasturtiums and basil.

Two nice little Japanese eggplant are forming, with more blossoms coming.

Thus far, only one tiny yellow crookneck that doesn't seem to be growing very quickly, but again, with maturity should come more squash. Love these things, too!

These are, I believe, the yellow bell peppers.  The red plant has lots of peppers on it too, but not this big yet. So far, the serrano plants haven't bloomed, but they are growing and have buds. They probably want a little more heat than we've had.

A few little San Marzano plum tomatoes, with lots more blossoms. With two plants of these, I should have plenty to make extra tomato sauce and freeze it!

Most of the basil plants have really taken off.  I'm gonna need to make some pesto soon, even if I end up freezing it.  Where am I gonna get pine nuts in Cedartown?

All the herbs are growing well, and true to their nature, require almost no care. My kind of plant!

Lots of fat, but hard, blueberries.  I've been wondering if I should take these guys off and let the plant's energy go to growth, as I've heard.  Been meaning to call the grower and ask, but never think about it when I'm home and they're likely to be at work.

So, that's my Sunday morning.  It's due to be a hot one so I tacked a couple of nails into the header of the window-in-process and hung the shade, to keep the sun's heat from the room.  This window faces east, and whether it helps or not, I feel cooler when the shade is down in the mornings.  I'm pretty much not going to think about the window today.  She says.

I had the sweetest phone call last night.  To back up, last Saturday I attended the annual luncheon for the local DAR group, out at the country club.  Very chi chi, very much 'the ladies of the club' kind of thing.  This may be a small southern town, but it has its old families and old money like any other town.  I sought out one of the members I hadn't yet met, because we have a common ancestor.  I don't know her age, but it's in the high 80's somewhere, I believe.  She remembers my mother and my mom's older sister, said she knew them well, although they had no idea back then that they were related. She said she would call me and show me her Isbell family genealogy information.  Last night she called and asked if I'd like to go to Sunday school and church with her out at Shiloh Baptist Church, in Esom Hill, where her family and my mom's family were from.  I have to say it was tempting, just because it's Shiloh and just because I'd likely meet lots of distant relatives, but I found (I hope) an gentle way to say 'no' and while I know she didn't understand my anti-church attitude, she was very gracious and said maybe I'd change my mind.  She wanted me to go to church with her out there at least once.  I just may have to do that, as uncomfortable as it will probably make me.  We had quite a conversation, and she's a jewel.  Her husband was probably related to me, too, judging from his surname, but she said he didn't know anything about his father's family.  I'm tempted to use my genealogy skills to find a connection, and may well do that eventually.  I'm sure she'd like that, too.  Shouldn't be difficult, once I get his name.  I don't think she even knew his father's name, but old census records should help pinpoint the right family once I get his name and birth date.  She, at any rate, is a real treat.

Exploring the North Georgia Mountains

The Appalachian Trail headed north from Three Forks.  These two are probably thru-hikers, headed to Mt. Katahdin, Maine.  It's the time of year when hundreds of good souls begin the 2000+ mile trek, and only a fraction actually make it all the way.  I didn't catch up with them to ask, but it's a lot of gear for an overnight hike. They have the look of thru-hikers, and I saw and spoke with many of them back when.  I used to make a point of working on my trail section in April, just to meet and talk to them.  At this point, all of four miles, they are all still gung-ho and excited, haven't had a chance to burn out or give up.

As  you can see, I opted to drive up to the mountains today, instead of tomorrow.  In fact, I drove for a total of about 7 hours, with only two stops -- one for gas and a bathroom, the other here at Three Forks for a few minutes.  I started out walking on the Trail headed for Longs Creek Falls, about a mile in, then I realized what time it was (3pm) and knew I didn't have time.  Aside from that, the place was like a parking lot/playground!  I've never seen so many cars parked at that place, or so many people just walking to or from that direction.  I had a sad sense that I'd find a crowd splashing at the Falls, and I just couldn't face that.  It's a lovely spot, a highlight of this section, but doesn't deserve to be a tourist hangout.

First of all, I couldn't believe people would drive into the wilderness just to reach this spot.  It's not exactly on the beaten path.  It's 20 miles from the nearest highway, and 5 of those miles are over FS Road 58, which is mostly good, but has a lot of potholes and numerous rough spots.  Lots of people in Lexus SUVs and the like, and even a Hummer.  Horrible!  When I was driving out, two very chi-chi women with a couple of kids strapped into the back seat of their Lexus SUV stopped me and asked if I knew where Longs Creek Falls was.  Good grief.  I told her, including the fact that they'd have to walk a mile on the trail to reach it, but that didn't seem to daunt them.  Where do these people come from, and what has happened here in the last 14  years?  If I sound upset, it's because I am.  Not seriously so, but very disappointed.

Still, it was a lovely trip and I was surprised how it all came back to me, how familiar so many of the roads and towns I passed through were.  I timed the trip at various points, to help me gauge driving up to meet people for a hike.  The trip home from Three Forks took almost exactly 3 hours, which isn't bad when you consider the first 45 minutes is on a dirt road moving slowly.  I started way too late in the morning, after I'd walked to the hardware store then walked to the library.  I know better, but it was rather impulsive and I didn't want to wait until tomorrow.

OK. Enough editorializing.  Bring on the photos.

This is Noontootla Creek, which parallels FS Road 58 for its entire length through here.  It has always been one of my favorite places, and it's not hard to see why.  It's a beautiful little creek that tumbles over rocks and cascades as it winds its way through the forest.  For you people in Oregon, we have Rhodies here, too -- the mountains are thick with them.

This is the Three Forks AT crossing, looking towards Springer Mountain (the starting point of the AT).  

Noontootla Creek from the footbridge.

And, from the other side of the bridge.

That's all the AT photos for the day -- I wasn't here very long, but I'm really glad I went.  Great to see it again, although the crowds still rankle.

A sign off Roy Road/Doublehead Gap Road that takes me to the FS road.  This is FS Road 42, which doesn't really go to Springer Mountain, but goes to the first AT road crossing where one can hike up the trail for about a mile and reach Springer.

The scenery along this access road was spectacular.  Spring has not sprung so much up here yet -- further north, higher elevations.  But the sun was glinting off everything and there were many pastoral scenes such as this, and even better, as I drove.

As I neared the main highway that cuts across the bottom of the Chattahoochee National Forest, I decided to go in search of this church, Wesley Chapel United Methodist Church.  I've driven past Wesley Chapel Road countless times in years past without ever driving up here or ever having any sense that any of my personal history would reside here.  I learned several years ago in Oregon, during my genealogy research, that some of my ancestors founded this church.  I cruised the small cemetery, found lots of Waters but none that I could identify.  My second great-grandmother, Sarah Waters, was born in this area in 1831 but moved away after she was married.  

Her father's name was Moses, but he was born in the 1700's.  This isn't one of his sons, but probably a nephew, and thus Sarah's cousin.  I was surprised that most of the gravestones had death dates in the early 1900s, because the church was there long before then and surely some of the elders died and were buried here, as well as the 'younger' generation.  Anyway, it was good to find it.  Going strictly on memory, which is always dangerous, I believe this particular Moses was one of the founders of the church.

Now, I'm pooped -- a lot of driving for one day, even though the mileage wasn't nearly as much as the days I spent driving across the country.  I've had some dinner and am now ready to hit the comfy chair and watch some movie.