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We are home now with two healthy little girls.  I could talk about how nothing in the world could have prepared for seeing my child come to after anesthesia.  I could talk about all the second guessing I’ve done, but it’s old news.  Deladis will be fine.  Her procedures went well, and now we are just going to watch her grow.

Coming home from a few days away always makes me feel an overwhelming sense of relief.  This time it made me think of all the roads we travel.  How all of us are trying to find home.  That place where things are comfortable.  John and I have found our home.  This little piece of a mountain holler is home for this season.  I hope it’s a long one.  The mountains will be home until we leave this earth.

To get to our little off-grid hideout, you have to be adventurous.  Not afraid to harm your vehicle on our unforgiving road.  The first thing you do is drop into the creek.

The entry

The entry

No, the bridge does not belong to us.  Yes, the creek is the road.  You are on the right path.  Keep following the creek.  The great thing about living off-grid is you literally can’t find our address on a computer, and so many maps.  We don’t exist to companies like AT&T or UPS.  It’s funny.  We’d have to pay the local cable company around $1,ooo to allow us to have cable television.  We aren’t going to do that.  But, back to the road.  You need to be serious to pay us a visit. If you have one of those “oh, crap” handles in your automobile, grab it now.

No Trespassing

No Trespassing

Very soon you will come out of the creek and onto our little gravel road.  There is a little incline here, and in case you didn’t call to announce your visit, we have clearly posted for you three times that there will be no trespassing on this property.  Unless you are on very familiar terms with George, John, or myself (the latter of whom still would appreciate a call), you should have made prior arrangements for your visit.  Oh, unless you work for the natural gas company.  We do have protection here in the form of the dog in the photo, and my personal weapon of choice – a 12 inch cast iron skillet.  Yes, I mean business.

Up Hill

Up Hill

The road has been eaten out by the winter weather a bit and gets rough from here.  Stay on course and you will be fine.  We have had friends from the big city end up in the field sitting fearful that a mountain man with a shot gun would come out and give them a lesson about property, but that was after dark.

Again

Again

Again, you will enter the creek and will remain there until you come to our cabin.  This is a rough spot and unless you hit it just right, you will drag.  But, we all drag sometimes, so you don’t have to be embarrassed by it.  We chose this road, you didn’t.

Our Cabin - An Antique

Our Cabin - An Antique

Then, you come to our cabin.  I’ll invite you in and smile.  Not many people risk vehicle damage to pay us a visit.  I’ll welcome you with coffee or spring water and a peanut butter cookie or a full supper on a good day.

You can workout with me hiking the cemetary hill.  We’ll workout in short pants for the first time in months.  We can enjoy the warm breeze as it plays in the hairs left on our legs from jeans weather.  🙂

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About Me

An Appalachian woman born and raised, mothering two little girls in a place that is non-existent to AT&T or UPS. Happily working toward a sustainable lifestyle and writing on the demand of a loud muse.

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