Rolling on the River, Guns and Ammo and a Haunted House

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After our lazy morning on the porch and a late breakfast, we loaded two canoes and two kayaks on the truck. We headed out down the dusty, winding gravel road upstream for a little outing on the river. We parked at a State Park - $2 - and drove down to the lot by the river. There was a building near the river called the Shot Tower. This is an old Civil War building where the cannon balls were made and then cooled by the waters of the New River. It is still standing tall with what looks like a big fireplace opening at the bottom. We divided in to our boats - Quinn and Jack in the kayaks, John and Erin in one canoe and Lindsay, Mary Mac and me in the other, larger canoe.

Rollin' on the River - 01 Proud Mary

Sweet, Sweet South

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We arrived in Raleigh late yesterday afternoon and drove a couple of hours North to the Blue Ridge Mountains along the New River to our friends cabin. In an instant I was taken back to my Southern youth. The sounds, sights and smells of the South are unmistakeable. Sitting on the porch in the evening the moisture starts to build as the sun drops down below the trees. The sound of crickets fills the night air calling me to a gentle sleep. Sitting in the kitchen, Erin’s smoke drifts up through the window reminding me of my father – cigarette smoke always evokes those memories for me.

The cabin sits above the river with a small river bottom just below and a hill rising on the other side of the river filled with trees just waiting for the crisp fall air to take them over the edge to flaming glory. They aren’t there yet because the air is still warm in the late afternoon.

I drifted off to sleep to the sound of the crickets as the evening air took on the chill of the moisture filling it up snug in the down of a true Southern bed with all the fluff.

Waking in the South is a slow process. The light of dawn is slow to brighten as it is held back by the thick mists surrounding the river. Looking out the window I remember all the mornings of my childhood growing up in Kentucky in the Ohio River Valley. Moisture hangs low over the morning, holding back the day. So many mornings waiting for the bus there was a thick mist in the air. It takes several hours for the sun to gain enough strength to burn off the fog. This allows for the morning to slowing unfold in to the day.

We sat on the front porch with our coffee listening to the birds and catching up on life – listening to the river flow by, barely visible through the fog. Three hours pass until the sun burns strong enough to banish the mist. Quinn is cooking sausage and eggs and I am once again reminded of my father – the breakfast chef – and a good Southern style breakfast. Breakfast in the South is full of flavor, generally provided by some tasty pork fat. Not so good for the arteries but definitely good for the soul.

Breakfast awaits….. biscuits, bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs cooked in the sausage grease, grits and fresh coffee. Will have to a take a long walk after this one.

Something for Nothing

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As I was listening to an interview on NPR today I was really struck by one of the statements made by Michael Lewis, the author of The Big Short, Moneyball and now Boomerang - The Meltdown Tour. In discussing the potential default in Greece and in municipalities across America he said, "People want to have things they don't want to pay for".

This really shook up my thinking for a bit because I don't see myself as someone who wants something for nothing. But then I started to really think about the shifts I see in products, services and even how I spend my time. I think it is very possibly true that we have trained ourselves to expect things at little or no cost. Is this because we've lost sight of value and/or cost of production?