Not a great deal has happened, though. And I doubt it will today. I'm probably at a 6 on the pain scale. Maybe by tonight we can get ought and go for a drive. The night air is warm, as summer night air out to be. Warm, muggy summer nights are one of the things I've missed most of all.
Late yesterday, my mother drove us over the mountain and out State 25 to Dunnavant, and then we went out Dunnavant Road to Kendricks Cemetery, which was once Pleasant Ridge Cemetery, on the shores on Wehapa Lake. This is where an awful lot of my family on my mother's side is buried: Rameys, Isbells, Brashers, et cetera. My Grandmother and Grandfather Ramey are buried there. Sometimes, I think I will be buried there, between the mountains, far from any city. It's a quiet and good place, secret from most of the world. Mom and I placed stones on my grandparents' headstone, and she told me about various family members, pointing out their graves. There are a number of civil war tombstones here. It's an old cemetery. I have some photos that Kathryn took, behind the cut:
The grave of my Great Grandmother Eliza Jane Ramey (nee Miskelly) and my Great Grandfather Simpson Monroe Ramey.
Detail from above.
Another detail shot of my great grandparents gravestone, with lichen.
The fruit of the horse nettle (Solanum carolinense), a non-toxic nightshade.
All photographs Copyright 2014 by Kathryn A. Pollnac.
Afterwards, we drove back east along Mimosa Road (also in Dunnavant), to the house where my grandparents lived in the seventies (1973-1980), the last place my grandfather lived. He was born somewhere in Dunnavant, but we're not sure exactly where. Which means, likely, that no one alive knows. Hell, he may not have known. I spent much of my childhood in the woods around that house.
Okay, I'm gonna go wait until it's time I can take some Vicodin and try to push this pain back. I'm not here to sit in the house and bitch about my feet and legs.