Poem

Old Camp Town

Ode to an old campground in the sixties

I remember our vacation

(When I was a child)

Every summer was a must;

We hit the road, loaded down,

Carolina bound or bust

 Campground in the Blue Ridge

Enormous summer fun;

Our little haven standing still,

Awaiting our return

The mountain side steep trails

  laden with brown crispy leaves;

The oaks standing proud and tall

rope swing swaying in the breeze

Pulled my pants up to wade the

icy cold stream;

“Last one in is a rotten egg,”

 the water hole was our dream

This stone is right where I left it

It’s granite, I was told;

Stone terraces all around us

 such beauty to behold

Campfire blazing, marsh mellows roasting,

Scary stories before bed;

My favorite one of all the tales,

The Horseman with No Head

Oh, the memories…
though not mine;
Are calling my name,
there etched in time

  They speak to me,

not sure how...

 I wasn't there then,

But, I am NOW!

Sammie Jean

Poem written for our cabin in NC

it's not just a cabin

"I'm not fixing the creak in the screen door," he said. My husband is such a "fix-it" man that it kinda surprised me to hear him say that. "It reminds me of the door we had in our house when I was a little boy," he continued. I could relate. The creaking noise reminded me of the door on my grandparent's front porch too. The way the screen door hits the wood frame when you let it go. It's an annoying gratifying kind of sound. Every time I hear it, I become ten years old and back on my grandparent's porch near Hard Labor Creek. There's just so much about our little red cabin on Red Bird Lane in the mountains of North Carolina that reminds us of our past. Even the red bird brings back memories for us. It's not that I grew up in a cabin. It's not that my husband did either. We both grew up in a 60's style home. But, we love the "feel"; it's homey, warm and cozy.  Everywhere we look is a heart's desire that we have had over the years; things that only God could have known. Living in the mountains has been a dream of ours, (mine mostly). I would say for at least forty years. I'll never forget one morning I got up and turned on my computer and this property was the first thing that I saw. It just came out of no where. We asked our realtor to show it to us. He didn't know anything about it because it belonged to another realty company. I think it was almost the last house we looked at on our two week journey for a cabin. We loved the ride into the cabin as much as the house itself; the mountain range, low valleys, pruned vineyard, green pastures, playful horses, grazing cows, bubbly streams, little wooden bridges, so so pretty. We turned onto Old Camp Town and as we climbed the mountain, not too far up, there it was, right smack dab in the middle of an old campground. The stone-terraced walls all around the property were picturesque. I couldn't help but think about how long it must have taken to build each one; each rock strategically placed.   I could almost hear the children's voices echoing outside; "Here dad use this stone. It's a pretty one." My husband has a barn up on the hill and I even have a little "craft" building. Just perfect for the two of us.When we get tired of each other we will have a place to go 💕 My little building was actual the building used to take up the money as the guest arrived at the campground. So much history. And in the middle of all this nostalgia...our little cabin. It was truly love at first sight. In the campgrounds "hay day" it was the bath house. It was remodeled but they kept the authentic orange pottery-style tiles in the bathroom and kitchen. The floor to ceiling stone fireplace in the living room was definitely the first thing I loved about the inside of the cabin. It was made with stones from outside. In fact the same stones that the terraced walls were made of. This is the first fireplace that I have ever had of my own. I know this sounds a little eccentric, but the first couple of nights that we stayed in our cabin, the fire had not gone out when it was time for us to go to bed. I told my husband I was going to stay up a little longer. The truth was that I couldn't stand to waste one ounce of that beautiful fire burning in the living room with me in the bed not seeing it. So, I watched it until there was nothing left but ashes and soot. It reminded me of when I was just married and my children were small, I would go to mama's and daddy's house and sit on the hearth as the fire blazed hot against my back. No matter what was going on in my life it seemed as if all was right with the world at that moment. A fire in a fireplace has that kind of effect on me. Our cabin was left furnished which was part of our deal with the sellers. We knew they would be leaving some goodies because we saw them in the house. But, there are some real treasures. Cabinets in the kitchen made with glass panes in the front. I remember asking my ex-husband when we built our home if I could have them in our kitchen. Don't remember exactly what he said but it was something like; they cost too much. Well, for whatever reason I didn't get them. There's this authentic wind-up phone on the wall that caught my husbands attention immediately.  As we plundered inside the phone, we saw all the working parts; an original Stromberg-Carlson. Whoever he is. It's definitely an antique. My husband was overwhelmed by it though. Not sure if it's because of his love for the things of the past or because of his career with the phone company. Whichever it is, he is in love. It's definitely a keeper. They left a lot of pictures on the walls; the ducks on the pond remind my husband of his wonderful mother and her love for ducks. I hung it in the hallway where he can see it from his chair. And the picture of the girl desperately climbing up the hill, longing for home. I loved it so much that I hung it over our bed. They also left old furniture; beds, a wooden chest, and a few other pieces. On the back porch are wooden rocking chairs. There is nothing else like rocking in a rocking chair on the porch. We have a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance and I hear water bubbling in the brook next door as it makes it way down the mountain to its final destination, a little pond. It was the swimming hole for the campers. When we were in town I found a hand-painted wooden plaque to put on my porch; Linger Longer. If I had a motto that would be mine. There is nothing in life that I enjoy doing more than just taking my time and really enjoying the moment. Whether it be rocking on the porch with a cup of coffee and quiet time with Jesus, watching the sunset at the beach with my mother and sister, having a dinner by the lake with my husband or sitting around the campfire with family and friends. Whatever it may be, it just seems to get better with the lingering. Our North Carolina friends were the first couple to have dinner with us in our new home. They were the perfect couple to help us christen it.  Everything about our first stay in our little home was perfect. Well almost everything, except for one little thing.  I  call it the, "demon of the microwave." The microwave left in the home was not working. So, we took it to the barn along with other things we didn't want or need. We went to Wal-mart and purchased a larger, nicer, microwave the next day. The next morning my husband went to warm up his egg, ham, and cheese biscuit only to discover the microwave came on but wouldn't get warm. We toted that microwave around the house to several different outlets. It still didn't work. We figured it had to be an electrical problem since it was a brand new one. I was ready to lay my hands on it and pray for it. We happened to mention to the Fire Chief that we ran into the next day that we were having microwave problems. He said that he would think about someone that might could help us. Next morning bright an early someone appeared at our door. Who might it be but an electrician. He was definitely a Godsend. Not only did he check out the electricity coming into our house but fixed our hot water heater element, which had totally burned into, which could have easily caused a fire. He fixed our ice maker, kitchen sink faucet, and replaced two new plugs in the bathroom. He found no problem with our electricity. A neighbor came by the next day and took both microwaves to his house just to see if they would work. They didn't. Never heard of it before, but our brand new microwave was torn up. We decided to go to a small store downtown where we purchased a much smaller microwave and finally... it worked!!!!  No, it's not the fanciest home. It doesn't have the best view in the mountains. It doesn't even have a little bridge out front that crosses a bubbling brook. Actually, it's a small little cabin in the middle of an old campground, full of history, nevertheless. It's not just a cabin though ...it's the cabin of our dreams...the one God picked out just for us. We might have "wondered around" a little in our life, but like the girl in the picture that hangs over our bed, we are finally home 💑

sammie jean

it's a boy...

 My son and daughter-in-law told me they had an early Christmas gift for me as they pulled me off to the side. They handed me a picture in a frame. It was a picture of an ultrasound. It was a picture of their baby; our grandchild. It was the best Christmas present! We were just a little excited, to say the least! It's been a long time since my husband and I have had a baby in our family; almost twelve years to be exact. A few months later, she asked us if we wanted to go with them to find out the gender of the baby. I answered without hesitation, "Yes." I wouldn't miss that for the world. We walked into the room and encircled the bed where our daughter-in-law lay, all eyes were on her and her tummy. All ten to be exact! All of us staring with nervous anticipation; daddy, both grandparents and sister. And then there he was on the screen, active as could be; little arms waving and little legs running, it seemed. We oohed and awed, all giddy with excitement. After what seemed like hours she told us the gender. She circled the important parts and wrote on the screen, "It's a boy." We all clapped and cheered. I was filled with a lot of emotion. It was a pretty big deal. I remembered a very similar time. Thirty-one years ago I lay in the bed, as the technician "jellied up" my belly. I was so excited to hear what we were having. We already had a girl. Our daughter was seven years old. I was twenty-nine. We hadn't even talked about the gender. I was just so excited to be pregnant again, I hadn't had time to even think about it. With watchful eyes we followed her every move as she placed pictures of our little baby on the screen. She closely looked all over its body. And then she stopped and she said, "Do you see that?" "Yes," we said, "But, what is that?" we asked. "It's a little boy." Oh my...I don't really remember what I said. It was probably because I was speechless. I do remember what my husband said though. He said, "Are you telling me that I am going to have a son?" "Yes, that's what I am telling you." Not sure, but he probably asked that same question a few more times. We both were ecstatic!!! Let me explain why that was such a big deal to us. First of all, every man wants a son and because we already had a daughter, I wanted a son too. But, not only was I excited for us, I was so excited for my daddy. You see my daddy had been a coach for many years. He was an athlete in high school and college and very passionate about boys sports. I'm sure he wanted a son. Bless his heart he had two girls. My mama was very happy with two girls, I must add. When their first child was a girl, that was fine. But, when their second child was a girl too, I'm sure my daddy said, "Put her back." "I want a son." Just kidding. However, he did want a son very badly. You know how I know that? I'm living proof. They named me Sammie. My daddy's name was Sam. So, just as you would expect, I was a tomboy. Sorta. I tried really hard to be a good athlete. Sorta.  But, more important than anything else, I tried really hard to please him. I would have tried to climb the highest mountain for my dad. It was very important for me to prove myself worthy of my namesake. After my sister was married, her and her husband had two daughters. Then I got married and we had a daughter, also. My dad had two daughters and three granddaughters and then...finally came a little boy. I just had to give him my surname, there just wasn't another name suitable for him. I knew it would mean a lot to my daddy. They became quite the pair. He loved his time over at papa's and nana's house; fishing in the pond, swimming in the pool, playing all around my daddy as he worked in the yard and his fish house. Not only was he just a little spoiled but a little prankster too; setting traps in the yard hoping he would get his papa hung up in one of them. I often wondered what he would have done if he had of actually caught him. My daddy was a very large man so I'm sure there would not have been a chance of that. They just enjoyed each others company.  His papa and his daddy took him fishing and hunting. They both instilled in him a deep love for the outdoors. One that he still enjoys today. Just like his papa, he was a very good athlete. Good in baseball, football, and basketball. Baseball became his real love though. Like his granddaddy and his daddy, he was a very good pitcher. His papa and nana were at every game cheering him on. Of course, his daddy and I didn't miss a game either.  I'll never forget when he first started playing t-ball, (his hat bigger than he was), he was all over the field. It was obvious that he thought it was his responsibility to play every position. I remember clearly the coach telling me one night after the game that he had something real special.  Yes, he was definitely a special little boy. This morning I was reminded of what the Lord told me when he was a small baby. He put in my heart, that when I prayed over him to say, "Mitchell, you are a mighty man of God." I tried to always remember to do that. As he grew, especially through the teen years, I remember many times reminding God of what He had said, (like he didn't remember.) As we stood in that small room with my son, daughter-in-law, her mama and sister, it wasn't a formality.  It was a sacred occasion. One that I will always cherish. Dear son, my prayer for you is that the Lord burn in your heart those words fresh and anew; that you will always be the strong husband for your wife and loving father for your son.  Dear daughter, you are a precious soul. Dear grandson, I love you. The three of you have my heart always ❤

mama