Some place on a mountain- a mountain in East Tennessee to be exact- lives my family. On the mountain there aren't any material things that draw you to it. The only lure is that of nature, or if you're my family-it is the lure of home. It's the smell of home cooked meals (home cookin' to be exact), the laughter (and sometimes sibling rivalry) that echoes through the trees, and the simplicity of family love and acceptance.
Growing up in a very small town (actually, on a mountain a good twenty-five minutes from that town) wasn't anything to be proud of. I have always been the adventurous one in my family and I think I was bitten by the travel bug when I was playing outside as a toddler. Even at an early age, I imaged the forest was the jungle and that I was a world traveler although I had no concept of the world that was out there. I always wanted to get away and see what places I could explore without the protection, advice, and interference of my mama and daddy. I was always an independent little thing and I wore mix matched clothes, butchered my hair at the age of five and had the desire to move the world over because of it.
Creeks became oceans in my imagination and I would try to jump from one side of the creek bank to the next without touching the water. In 2006, I took a huge jump across the "creek" to England and ever since I have wanted to continue that sense of adventure. Matt and I both suspect that we will live overseas again and it will probably be in several different countries. We both have adventurous spirits and yearn to become knowledgeable of other cultures and their customs. I often dream that we will raise our kids in different countries and expose them to the world around them.
I have recently undertaken a huge dream of mine- writing a book. The idea of the book came about when I was in a real place of heartache. It seemed that everything around me had either already caved in or was about to. I decided to write things down as a means to work through those hardships and the idea came to me to write a book about my life. It's not as if my life is glamorous or even that I have endured any more heartbreaking things than anyone else has, but I'm going to write in hopes that my book will be an inspiration to those that read it if it is ever published.
I've been doing a lot of thinking for the book and as part of the creative process I have been re-teaching myself about the culture in which I was raised. There are things that I am not proud to say I was raised around, such as the harsh judgement of churches in the area, but revisiting those things has made me who I am today. In addition to re-familiarizing myself with the past I have also been listening to a lot of bluegrass music. It never failed- when I was growing up I was always exposed to bluegrass music whether it was being picked by hand in front of me or coming through the speakers of an AM radio station. My senses have been heightened as I have called back home and picked my accent back up, listened to the music of the area, looked at old photos and smelled old recipes as I cooked them for Matt in our kitchen.
I have always associated home with the things that I didn't like about where I was raised. As I have gotten older, I have come to associate home with the things I love most about where I was born and raised. The truth is that no matter where I may travel with my small little family in the future or how much of the world I may see- home is still home sweet home- even if it's on the very top of a mountain in East Tennessee and not a high-rise flat in London.
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