Growing up I don’t remember a time I didn’t know about Grandma Springs.† It was named after a midwife who lived there in the late 1800’s. † My grandfather spent time there, hunting and fishing.† My father spent time there doing the same.† Our family would go to hike, climb, find interesting insects, sit on bluffs that Indians roamed, had picnics and more.

There are ghost stories abound about Grandma Springs.† Stories of a Confederate soldier killed there who haunted it for years, stories of a headless baby that roamed around at night.† My grandfather told stories of walking down the dirt road late at night and hearing a carriage traveling very quickly.† He got out of the road and heard it pass, but never saw a thing.

Kei has grown up with stories of Grandma Springs.†† She has always loved ghost stories, a love she shares with my Mother and Mom always told her stories about the springs. † But it is now private property and not easy to get to.† My father had asked the owners if we could go down and walk around and they told him we could.† Sunday morning we all headed out. We were taking sandwiches and I made sausage balls.† It was very warm but so windy.

This was the first time I had been to Grandma Springs in about 20 years.† It was familiar but different.† I am different changed since the last time I was there.† I spent some of the time thinking back to the Karen I was, and the Karen I have become.† I spent a lot of time wishing my Mother was with us.† She loved this place so much.† She would have loved to walk along with Kei and I and tell us stories.†

We saw an Indian sign tree.† These are young trees that were bent in some unnatural position without being broken, and were fastened securely.† After doing this it would continue to grow, forever after maintaining the bent position.† With this as a means, it was possible to deform the trees deliberately so that they could easily be distinguished from the other trees in the forest.

There developed a custom of marking trails through the forests by bending saplings and securing them in such positions that their directions of bend indicated the directions of the routes to be followed.† A line of similarly bent trees thus established a continuous uninterrupted route of travel which could readily be followed.† We have found many arrowheads up in the bluffs in the past.

We ended up hiking about 6 miles.† These were hard miles not easy miles, uneven ground, bushes and grasses and uphill in places.† When we arrived at the bluffs Daddy and Marlene decided to hang around that area and Eddie wanted to take us up Range Mountain.

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†We found a tree frog and a hummingbird nest and so many other cool things.

Range Mountain is about 500 feet up and it was NOT easy going.† Very steep and underbrush everywhere.† The fall leaves made it so slippery.† Seth had to keep hacking away so we could get through.† I almost stopped about 3/4 the way up but I finally decided to keep going.†

On the way up we saw one of the trees my Daddy had carved “Jean and Bull” on.† [My Daddy’s nickname and my Mom]† It made me a little teary eyed.

When we finally huffed and puffed ourselves up to the top, it was beautiful.† There was a little cave that Eddie had played in when he was younger.† Rocks that he carried to make the walls that were still there.

Going back down was a little easier but much more slippery!† I used my butt to just slide down some of the way.† Which was fine until I hit a rock.† OUCHIE.† We met back up with Daddy and Marlene, ate some lunch and headed back out.† We were all pretty tired on the way out. Kei got a ride from Seth.

When we got back to our house, my Daddy called and he had LOST HIS CELL PHONE up there.† Kei and I had to go to church but Eddie and the kids went back and found it!† I couldn’t believe it.

But it was a great day.† Family and memories both old and new.† Mother would have just loved it.

Homeschooling Rocks!

Karen

 

A happy childhood can’t be cured.† Mine’ll hang around my neck like a rainbow, that’s all, instead of a noose.† ~Hortense Calisher, Queenie, 1971

 

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.† ~From the television show The Wonder Years

A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen.† ~Edward de Bono