Land and Legacy

It’s been six months since my last blog. I’ve been very busy in the busy world doing lots of busy, busy things.

However…it’s the end of the year – and almost at the start of another one – that we often allow time to slow down, take stock and reflect on what has been and what may be.

For me, this January 1st, I will do the opposite of what I was doing on January 2005. I will be driving to Manhattan, rather than away from it. That was the day I moved to Asheville from NYC.

I’m off for a few days to see a couple of clients and visit old friends.

But, when I return, the year promises some changes in my life because of the changes I made in my life recently.


I earned my real estate license, and I’ve spent the last several months immersing myself in all the available opportunities to learn about the market. I’ve also finally got serious about looking after my investments and paying attention to the financial market. I’ve gotten a thorough education on just have closely those two are related. I think we all have.

I’ve always had an interest in this area of life –now, I have an opportunity to hone in on them and use the knowledge to help create the life that I want for myself.

If you’ve been reading my blogs, you know I’ve had a keen interest in gardening and sustainability – mostly since my short stint in Byron Bay, Australia. Real estate is, after all, primarily about land – who owns it, controls it, uses it, improves it, and wastes it. It is natural that I am interested and involved.

I guess I became intensely interested when I discovered that Asheville has an Eco-steward certification. I love this! Agents who go through this 36-hour program are in a position to advise clients toward better, more sustainable and energy efficient homes. Perfect for me, because I sometimes think I’m a perpetual student – I love going to classes and learning. I need the structure (I’m a triple Pisces - need I say more?) and I appreciate the discipline.

When I took the Asheville Board of Realtors Orientation a short while back, I was thrilled with my choice of getting my real estate license when the instructor asked me to read aloud the Preamble to the Code of Ethics for the National Association of Realtors:

“Under all is the land. Upon its wise utilization and widely allocated ownership depend the survival and growth of free institutions and of our civilization. REALTORS¨ should recognize that the interests of the nation and its citizens require the highest and best use of the land and the widest distribution of land ownership. They require the creation of adequate housing, the building of functioning cities, the development of productive industries and farms, and the preservation of a healthful environment.”

I learned from my grandparents – small farmers in the southeast – that when you own your land (whether we can really “own” land is another blog for another day), you are your own person. You can feed yourself and shelter yourself. You can not only survive but live a more healthy, both physically and spiritually, in world of nature and earth.

The land was here before us, and will be here long afterward. We must respect it and protect it. And return, we are bountifully rewarded. If not – well, we reap what we sow.

May the New Year bring us all love, peace, respect, and joy.

Small Adventures in Real Estate

I decided, although I’m not sure why, to come down to Port City Java this morning. It’s a short ride – about 5 miles from where I live – but with long-range mountain views. Dripoleter is closer, but the guitarist was not there last week. Although not the only reason to go to Dripolater, the music did -hyphen- off a specific and special part of the week - the time to contemplate, to think, to observe other humans and life around me.

I recall the last time I drove here, I was struck by an unblemished blue sky with a bold, brash morning sun. Today, there is no blue to be found among the thick voluminous clouds, traveling with the strength of the wind. The ground looks spotty where some of the fuller clouds have decided to relieve themselves from their wet burdens.There is a fireplace to my right, a window to outside world on my left. The music is awful, screaming men and guitars. Fortunately it is turned down low, so I can almost ignore it. A few people are beginning to walk in and order coffee to go, but none stay. Other than the barristers, I have the place to myself.

On January 1st, I celebrated my first two years here in Asheville. I remember how much of an adventure it was. I guess my definition of adventure is not knowing what’s coming next. There was little I was certain off – where would I live, where would I work, who would be my friends, what would I learn. So many of those questions are answered now. So, I guess the period I am entering now is a time of consolidating and expanding. The first two years were buying a better car, buying a house, and buying furniture. I have added to my life what I believe will be a rich and endearing friendships. I have a routine now – I plan my social time not in hours but in months.

So now, I plan to financially plan. I’m also looking for the right real estate investment. I am also starting to finish out the second story of my house. It looks like this area is going to continue to grow. I heard from a realtor that housing grew 9% in Asheville this past year. I read in the paper that North Carolina is now the 10th most populous state, edging out New Jersey.

I hope that the local governments can guide the growth with sustainable practices. Certainly Asheville seems to be on track with that. There is only one republican on board, the rest being either Green or at least Democrats. I don’t go to the public meetings, but I do read the reports about them in both the Mountain Xpress (great coverage, by the way) and the Asheville Citizen Times. The Buncombe County Commission has decided to go ahead and enact zoning laws without a referendum. I’m all for zoning and control over developers who bulldoze mountaintops and slopes to build upscale homes for wealthy retirees and 2nd homeowners.

There are a few celebrities among us, most notably, Andie McDowell.So, as the mountains get dusted with homes, we are also losing farmland at an astonishing rate each year. My own real estate ambitions remain fluid. I started with finishing out a small apartment for myself upstairs and buy land in the country – as far away as Mars Hill. Then a friend expressed interest in buy 15 acres or more, and splitting off part for a second home and keeping the rest undeveloped. Then I became aware that the .8 acres with a very small, dilapidated house was with a developer, but the deal was not closing. Mary and I made a back up offer. With its gentle south sloping surface, it offers a long-range view toward the Biltmore property. We dreamed of a gazebo and lots of veggies growing on it. A little nervous about the work and the level of my own skills, I called on Bountiful Cities Project. Darcel Eddins, one of the founders, came out and looked at the house, and wandered the land. Her dreams for the space were even more ambitious than mine. She could see the house being restored using green materials and volunteers. She could see a bedroom for an exchange student intern, a canning kitchen and a stall for the 2 goats city regulations allow. But after much stalling and aggravation, it became clear that the developer would eventually get what he wanted.

I begin to look at other land and found one 12 minutes from downtown that I feel in love with it. The heading of the small classified ad said “Gardeners Paradise.” And for the first time in my experience, the realtor wrote an actual accounting of the space. It was a farm-style home built 20 ago on 2 acres bordered on two sides by Lee’s Creek. As a bonus, the land was sitting inside a small cove with a few other homes, with fruit trees and bushes with a few years of growth on them and a greenhouse. The house was slightly roomier than my present living space. It would need some work – like a new heat pump and roof – but it was priced low enough that the repairs would not stop me.

Unfortunately, just as I was ready to make an offer, someone else beat me to it: two men, one who works for one of the local green grocers. Their dream is to grow and sell organic vegetables to the local stores and restaurants. I am still, after a couple of weeks, feeling the disappointment of missing out on this particular house and land.So, back to the drawing board. Literally. I’ve been drawing the plans for the upstairs. I know that renovations are difficult – workers coming and going, disruptions in my plans and life, and can be expensive.

But at this point, it feels like an adventure. The point before I really know what is going to happen next. The place I sometimes think I most like to be.

Following My Lead

Asheville. Lot’s of cool stuff happening in this little progressive, mountain town.

The first signs of spring are all around. The surest is the Organic Growers School held every year at the Blue Mountain Appalachian Community College in Flat Rock. I felt the excitement surging through my bloodstream as I worked my way through the crowds and classes of farmers, gardeners and wanna-bes (like me) yesterday. This is where I strike up conversations with strangers as I sip coffee at breaks or while waiting on my friend Mary, who attended for the second time with me. I met a guy who has 20 acres near Boone and primarily produces berries for sale. I got several good tips from him for my 3 blueberry bushes. A woman told me about how she and her husband bought their farm over 12 years ago while still living in Charlotte. A couple of years ago she had enough of the city life and moved there full time while her husband drives up on weekends from his job. She said her grandchildren beg for turns to come stay weeks at a time. She calls her place the anti-Disney – no TV, gameboys, and cell phones, but rather plenty of live animals and fun chores they love to do. When actually given a choice from an over saturated media/consumer lifestyle, even children instinctively know that something truly important is missing from their lives and reach for it when given the opportunity.

I’ve noticed recently that the leadership aspect of myself has been coming to the fore. I’ve never considered myself much of a leader before, usually preferring to follow someone else’s vision when it matched my own.

As you know, I moved here from NYC so that I could be closer to the land. I bought my house and small lot and have worked at enriching my soil, growing veggies, fruit trees and shrubs. I had no concerns about living in close proximity to my neighbors in West Asheville because after NYC and apartment living, it seemed quite spacious. But I’ve known from the beginning that it wouldn’t be enough. I want land. And there are many women in Asheville who want the same thing. In fact, Mary and I noted that well over half the attendees at the Organic Growers School were women. One class I took – How to obtain Credit for your farm – all but one of the self-identified “want to farm” people were women.

A couple of weeks ago I invited two women I know who are interested in owning and farming land to dinner. They did not know each other. I had a good feeling about them both – or as we might say here is Asheville, they both had good energy for me. They instantly bonded, having Cleveland, Ohio as their connection. Our purpose: to discuss the possibility of creating an intentional community together. We plan, over the summer, to invite another 3 or 4 women who share our vision to join us and then start searching for land within 30 minutes of Asheville. Our goal is to buy it within two years. Over the next several months we plan on getting together for projects and activities so that we become more acquainted and comfortable with each other. We hope to buy about 30+ acres so that we can have about 5 acres each and some shared land – preferably with a stream, creek and/or pond with it. I’m very excited to have partners who share my vision and are willing to work together to make it happen.

My first memory about community living came to me as a senior in high school when I wrote a paper about Communal Living (I still have it too – I didn’t make a very good grade). I wish I could remember why I chose the topic. Was it because the teacher gave us a list to choose from or did I pull that out somewhere from the headlines? It was after all 1971 and I would have been influenced by the decade of the 60’s. Perhaps it stems from some deep psychotically need to be associated with counter culture of some type. I have a love/hate relationship with mainstream: I want to “fit” in, but I often at conflict of what mainstream represents – which is usually centered around money, what you have and don’t have. Or perhaps I instinctively knew early in life that I want to live a more connected life with others – in community, with shared vision.

Recently, I joined the board of the Bountiful Cities Project. It’s a non profit centered around the idea of creating community spaces on urban land, growing food in abundance and fostering a learning environment for social justice and sustainability. Our website is http://www.bountifulcitiesproject.org and if you want some recent pr about us, I refer you to
http://www.citizen-times.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=200770225012.
I wrote the press release and was pleased that A C-T printed verbatim. I’ve written a lot of pr before, some while I was in New York City, and seen my words printed, but this one brought more joy to me than the business writing that I have done over the years. It is the idea of community and urban gardens that I am enthusiastic about. I think this group is poised for some tremendous growth and I’m happy to offer my years of experience in advertising, marketing, and pr to a nonprofit that I can feel passionate about.

Another sign of my leadership side taking hold is that I have been trying to organize our neighborhood to deal with the beautiful piece of land in our neighborhood, and at the end of my backyard. Mary and I tried to purchase it late last year but were unsuccessful. I held a meeting at my house and invited the City of Asheville Neighborhood Coordinator to speak to us. We invited the potential buyer of the land to come to, but he declined. The coordinator offered some alternatives of how what we could do, but so far, it seems as if it’s too much work for them. I’m sure if I wanted to do all the work, they would support it. I’m in the process of trying to organize another meeting specifically with the potential buyer. I’m not sure how much I want to proceed if all my neighbors want is for me to do the work.

According to Diana Leafe Christian, author of “Creating a Life Together: Practical Tools to Grow Ecovilages and Intentional Communities,” a leader must certainly have vision – without which nothing will happen. Now that I’ve been in Asheville two years, I am trying to fine-tune the lens on my vision glasses. It is becoming clearer to me and I am taking the steps in the right directions. As with all our hopes, plans, and intentions, I believe we must also be adaptable because life is as fluid as the river and takes unexpected twist and turns. As Heraclites first notes around 500 BCE “You cannot step twice into the same river, for other waters are continually flowing in.” And as Darwin REALLY said:
“It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.” One thing I do know about myself – I am responsive to change. I am a Pisces – as mutable and changeable as the water the fish swim in.

Small Adventures in Asheville Real Estate

I decided, although I’m not sure why, to come down to Port City Java this morning. It’s a short ride – about 5 miles from where I live – but with long-range mountain views. Dripoleter is closer, but the guitarist was not there last week. Although not the only reason to go to Dripolater, the music did -hyphen- off a specific and special part of the week - the time to contemplate, to think, to observe other humans and life around me.

I recall the last time I drove here, I was struck by an unblemished blue sky with a bold, brash morning sun. Today, there is no blue to be found among the thick voluminous clouds, traveling with the strength of the wind. The ground looks spotty where some of the fuller clouds have decided to relieve themselves from their wet burdens.

There is a fireplace to my right, a window to outside world on my left. The music is awful, screaming men and guitars. Fortunately it is turned down low, so I can almost ignore it. A few people are beginning to walk in and order coffee to go, but none stay. Other than the barristers, I have the place to myself.

On January 1st, I celebrated my first two years here in Asheville. I remember how much of an adventure it was. I guess my definition of adventure is not knowing what’s coming next. There was little I was certain off – where would I live, where would I work, who would be my friends, what would I learn. So many of those questions are answered now. So, I guess the period I am entering now is a time of consolidating and expanding. The first two years were buying a better car, buying a house, and buying furniture. I have added to my life what I believe will be a rich and endearing friendships. I have a routine now – I plan my social time not in hours but in months.

So now, I plan to financially plan. I’m also looking for the right real estate investment. I am also starting to finish out the second story of my house. It looks like this area is going to continue to grow. I heard from a realtor that housing grew 9% in Asheville this past year. I read in the paper that North Carolina is now the 10th most populous state, edging out New Jersey. I hope that the local governments can guide the growth with sustainable practices. Certainly Asheville seems to be on track with that. There is only one republican on board, the rest being either Green or at least Democrats. I don’t go to the public meetings, but I do read the reports about them in both the Mountain Xpress (great coverage, by the way) and the Asheville Citizen Times. The Buncombe County Commission has decided to go ahead and enact zoning laws without a referendum. I’m all for zoning and control over developers who bulldoze mountaintops and slopes to build upscale homes for wealthy retirees and 2nd homeowners. There are a few celebrities among us, most notably, Andie McDowell.

So, as the mountains get dusted with homes, we are also losing farmland at an astonishing rate each year. My own real estate ambitions remain fluid. I started with finishing out a small apartment for myself upstairs and buy land in the country – as far away as Mars Hill. Then a friend expressed interest in buy 15 acres or more, and splitting off part for a second home and keeping the rest undeveloped. Then I became aware that the .8 acres with a very small, dilapidated house was with a developer, but the deal was not closing. Mary and I made a back up offer. With its gentle south sloping surface, it offers a long-range view toward the Biltmore property. We dreamed of a gazebo and lots of veggies growing on it. A little nervous about the work and the level of my own skills, I called on Bountiful Cities Project. Darcel Eddins, one of the founders, came out and looked at the house, and wandered the land. Her dreams for the space were even more ambitious than mine. She could see the house being restored using green materials and volunteers. She could see a bedroom for an exchange student intern, a canning kitchen and a stall for the 2 goats city regulations allow. But after much stalling and aggravation, it became clear that the developer would eventually get what he wanted.

I begin to look at other land and found one 12 minutes from downtown that I feel in love with it. The heading of the small classified ad said “Gardeners Paradise.” And for the first time in my experience, the realtor wrote an actual accounting of the space. It was a farm-style home built 20 ago on 2 acres bordered on two sides by Lee’s Creek. As a bonus, the land was sitting inside a small cove with a few other homes, with fruit trees and bushes with a few years of growth on them and a greenhouse. The house was slightly roomier than my present living space. It would need some work – like a new heat pump and roof – but it was priced low enough that the repairs would not stop me.

Unfortunately, just as I was ready to make an offer, someone else beat me to it: two men, one who works for one of the local green grocers. Their dream is to grow and sell organic vegetables to the local stores and restaurants. I am still, after a couple of weeks, feeling the disappointment of missing out on this particular house and land.

So, back to the drawing board. Literally. I’ve been drawing the plans for the upstairs. I know that renovations are difficult – workers coming and going, disruptions in my plans and life, and can be expensive. But at this point, it feels like an adventure. The point before I really know what is going to happen next. The place I sometimes think I most like to be.

Follow My Lead

Asheville. Lot’s of cool stuff happening in this little progressive, mountain town.The first signs of spring are all around. The surest is the Organic Growers School held every year at the Blue Mountain Appalachian Community College in Flat Rock. I felt the excitement surging through my bloodstream as I worked my way through the crowds and classes of farmers, gardeners and wanna-bes (like me) yesterday. This is where I strike up conversations with strangers as I sip coffee at breaks or while waiting on my friend Mary, who attended for the second time with me. I met a guy who has 20 acres near Boone and primarily produces berries for sale. I got several good tips from him for my 3 blueberry bushes. A woman told me about how she and her husband bought their farm over 12 years ago while still living in Charlotte. A couple of years ago she had enough of the city life and moved there full time while her husband drives up on weekends from his job. She said her grandchildren beg for turns to come stay weeks at a time. She calls her place the anti-Disney – no TV, gameboys, and cell phones, but rather plenty of live animals and fun chores they love to do. When actually given a choice from an over saturated media/consumer lifestyle, even children instinctively know that something truly important is missing from their lives and reach for it when given the opportunity.I’ve noticed recently that the leadership aspect of myself has been coming to the fore. I’ve never considered myself much of a leader before, usually preferring to follow someone else’s vision when it matched my own.As you know, I moved here from NYC so that I could be closer to the land. I bought my house and small lot and have worked at enriching my soil, growing veggies, fruit trees and shrubs. I had no concerns about living in close proximity to my neighbors in West Asheville because after NYC and apartment living, it seemed quite spacious. But I’ve known from the beginning that it wouldn’t be enough. I want land. And there are many women in Asheville who want the same thing. In fact, Mary and I noted that well over half the attendees at the Organic Growers School were women. One class I took – How to obtain Credit for your farm – all but one of the self-identified “want to farm” people were women.A couple of weeks ago I invited two women I know who are interested in owning and farming land to dinner. They did not know each other. I had a good feeling about them both – or as we might say here is Asheville, they both had good energy for me. They instantly bonded, having Cleveland, Ohio as their connection. Our purpose: to discuss the possibility of creating an intentional community together. We plan, over the summer, to invite another 3 or 4 women who share our vision to join us and then start searching for land within 30 minutes of Asheville. Our goal is to buy it within two years. Over the next several months we plan on getting together for projects and activities so that we become more acquainted and comfortable with each other. We hope to buy about 30+ acres so that we can have about 5 acres each and some shared land – preferably with a stream, creek and/or pond with it. I’m very excited to have partners who share my vision and are willing to work together to make it happen.My first memory about community living came to me as a senior in high school when I wrote a paper about Communal Living (I still have it too – I didn’t make a very good grade). I wish I could remember why I chose the topic. Was it because the teacher gave us a list to choose from or did I pull that out somewhere from the headlines? It was after all 1971 and I would have been influenced by the decade of the 60’s. Perhaps it stems from some deep psychotically need to be associated with counter culture of some type. I have a love/hate relationship with mainstream: I want to “fit” in, but I often at conflict of what mainstream represents – which is usually centered around money, what you have and don’t have. Or perhaps I instinctively knew early in life that I want to live a more connected life with others – in community, with shared vision.Recently, I joined the board of the Bountiful Cities Project. It’s a non profit centered around the idea of creating community spaces on urban land, growing food in abundance and fostering a learning environment for social justice and sustainability. Our website is http://www.bountifulcitiesproject.org and if you want some recent pr about us, I refer you tohttp://www.citizen-times.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=200770225012.I wrote the press release and was pleased that A C-T printed verbatim. I’ve written a lot of pr before, some while I was in New York City, and seen my words printed, but this one brought more joy to me than the business writing that I have done over the years. It is the idea of community and urban gardens that I am enthusiastic about. I think this group is poised for some tremendous growth and I’m happy to offer my years of experience in advertising, marketing, and pr to a nonprofit that I can feel passionate about.Another sign of my leadership side taking hold is that I have been trying to organize our neighborhood to deal with the beautiful piece of land in our neighborhood, and at the end of my backyard. Mary and I tried to purchase it late last year but were unsuccessful. I held a meeting at my house and invited the City of Asheville Neighborhood Coordinator to speak to us. We invited the potential buyer of the land to come to, but he declined. The coordinator offered some alternatives of how what we could do, but so far, it seems as if it’s too much work for them. I’m sure if I wanted to do all the work, they would support it. I’m in the process of trying to organize another meeting specifically with the potential buyer. I’m not sure how much I want to proceed if all my neighbors want is for me to do the work.According to Diana Leafe Christian, author of “Creating a Life Together: Practical Tools to Grow Ecovilages and Intentional Communities,” a leader must certainly have vision – without which nothing will happen. Now that I’ve been in Asheville two years, I am trying to fine-tune the lens on my vision glasses. It is becoming clearer to me and I am taking the steps in the right directions. As with all our hopes, plans, and intentions, I believe we must also be adaptable because life is as fluid as the river and takes unexpected twist and turns. As Heraclites first notes around 500 BCE “You cannot step twice into the same river, for other waters are continually flowing in.” And as Darwin REALLY said:“It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.” One thing I do know about myself – I am responsive to change. I am a Pisces – as mutable and changeable as the water the fish swim in.

Sax in the City

Sunday morning. There’s a fog shrouding the trees and hillsides beyond the clarity of my small yard, and that of my 96-year-old neighbor’s adjoining yard. There is an underlying rhythm in the subtle background of crickets. It is punctuated with soft knock of a woodpecker against a tree, the dropping of acorns onto my deck, and dogs barking in the distance. Occasionally, there is a muted high-pitched chirpings of a bird – the soprano solo interspersed.

I have a gentle fire going in my chimnea, hot coffee in my tall cup and the New York Times nearby. What could be more special than a quiet West Asheville morning like this?

I’ve been here for 20 months now. I don’t sit out on my deck as much as I did last year. The newness has worn off, and besides, there is so much more to do now. I know more people so there are more social engagements. I’ve become more involved with caring for and landscaping my yard. Gardening and harvesting projects create a long “to do” list on a yellow legal pad.

Lately, I’ve been remembering myself in NYC. As I continue to read the NYTimes, I realize that Manhattan is changing. New buildings are going up, old one coming down. Progress seems to be happening, albeit slowly, around Ground Zero. I continue to receive email newletters from Cranes Business; along with several social groups I belonged to there.

I miss it.

I use to get up in the mornings, pick up coffee from the Amish Market and go to the park on 48th Street. Although on weekdays I was often the only one there, I was surrounding by the street noise – garbage trucks, fire trucks, and a constant assortment of car horns. Most of the time I was able to block out the noise and spend time writing, thinking and sometimes even meditating among the flowers and trees in the small, but well kept park.

I have many wonderful memories from my 11 years in NYC, but probably the most magical one happened one fall evening as I sat in front of my computer in my apartment on the second floor. As usual in warm or temperate weather, my window was fully open. I heard a saxophone playing nearby. Not a particularly unusual sound as there was a musicians practice space two buildings down. Then, I heard a second, lower saxophone playing in harmony with the first. Very nice, I thought. When a third, even lower sax joined in, I had to know what was going on. I stuck my head out the window and looked toward the musicians building. On the sidewalk in front was one player. I decided to crawl out on my fire escape. I didn’t see any co-conspirator musicians around him, so I started looking around for the others. At that moment, a fourth, higher pitched sax joined the other three. I spotted all three others within minutes – each from a different building, out on their fire escapes.


The music continued for another 20 minutes or so. Forty-seventh Street isn’t the same as busy 9th Avenue that runs north and south. It is mostly residential and one way, with cars parked on both sides of the street. But business as usual continued that evening: people walking under the streetlights, cars and bicycles jostling for their space and smokers hanging out in front of doorways. I sat there, aware, but not really feeling the cold metal of the fire escape, wondering how this could possibly be happening. Four beautiful instruments, in total harmony, a small symphony of music, on the really not-so-mean streets of Manhattan. Did the musicians plan this? Or was it just happenstance?

I’ll never know. I just know that on one particular warm, clear September evening, in the relative quietness of my Manhattan apartment, magic happened. As the morning sun burns off the morning fog over the trees around me in West Asheville, I now remember that yellow legal pad “to do” list.

CAN It Be Done

Last weekend I visited my parents in Chattanooga. They are both 77 (or 78?). My mother’s health is very poor from bypass surgery, back surgery, and long time grief, among other ailments. But my father, although he recently finished treatment for prostate cancer, is still working around the house a couple of hours most mornings. I know they are aging, and I know there is much I need to know from them before it’s too late.

My mother gave me her sewing machine. She bought her Kenmore 1813 in the 60’s and it still works perfectly. As a teenager, I was always considered one of the best dressed in school. She had an excellent sense of clothing design. She would take me to Miller’s Department store in Chattanooga for ideas and then buy and adapt patterns to suit her. Of course, as a child, I didn’t appreciate that. I would rather be in my shorts or jeans.

It gave me pleasure to work alongside of her on it for a while. We’ve always had our mother/daughter issues and it’s never been easy to work side by side on anything. She showed me how to thread bobbin and we made a few runs on scrap clothes. I’ll never be the seamstress my mother was, but if I could cover a few cushions here and there, and use it for projects, I’ll be happy. But most of all, the sewing machine represents a history, of our lives together – sometimes difficult, but never without love. I love having items in my home that have been passed down from my parents, and grandparents – especially my grandmothers.

I also brought home my Granny Croft’s churn, and my Granny Watson’s canner. I’ll probably never make butter (but who knows!) but I did decide to “put up” some of my cucumbers yesterday. I made 10 pints of bread and butter pickles. I sampled some of the mix before it went into the jars, and they are going to be delicious!

It’s easy to see why people stopped canning. It’s time consuming and a lot of work. Easier to go to the store and buy a jar of pickles. However, I don’t have any connection to those pickles, and although it may give my body some of the nutrients I need, they hardly enrich my soul. The jar of pickles I will eat this winter will be from cucumbers seeds I planted and lovingly watered and weeded. It is food that I grew, with out chemicals of any sort. It is food that I picked, washed, peeled, mixed, boiled and then packed into jars. And, at the end, listened for that “pop” that tells me that the jar has sealed.

Best of all, I did it with my granny’s canner. She fed and nourished her family for most of her adult live by growing and canning her own food. I’m sure she’s pleased.