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Painsday,12:50 p.m.

I'm not doing a very good job of keeping the LJ current on this trip. Of course, it can be rightly argued that the object of this trip, and of life in general, is to experience, not to report. But I spend my life reporting, which, of course, changes the life being reported on. It works just like quantum physics. It's very hard to closely examine a thing with altering the thing you are closely examining.

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.

Inside,
Aunt Beast

Comments

( 4 comments — Have your say! )
jadakath
Aug. 27th, 2014 07:03 pm (UTC)
John Prine
Lovely photos. Y'all are great photographers; you have 'the eye'. Your trip description makes me think of "Paradise" - John Prine. One of my favorites, as you know.
setsuled
Aug. 27th, 2014 07:30 pm (UTC)
It's very hard to closely examine a thing with altering the thing you are closely examining.

That's a good point. I often think blogging is helpful in terms of the fact that motivates me to be more observant and to analyse though by consciously interpreting things we do move those things out of a more subliminal role, perhaps, a less concrete role.

The grave of my Great Grandmother Eliza Jane Ramey (nee Miskelly) and my Great Grandfather Simpson Monroe Ramey.

Wow, beautiful.

And the rest of the photos are lovely.
sovay
Aug. 27th, 2014 08:58 pm (UTC)
Another detail shot of my great grandparents gravestone, with lichen.

That's very beautiful.

Thank you for the photographs.
everville340
Aug. 27th, 2014 11:31 pm (UTC)
It's a quiet and good place, secret from most of the world.

Thank you for sharing the photos, especially of the cemetery. The colors are beautiful and the perspective of aged and weathered markers fore modern headstones is mesmerizing. Such history there; a perfect place to rest.
( 4 comments — Have your say! )