WHAT IS HERE, THERE? (published 7-28-2019)

For all my “rich, full” life, I have heard many folks in Upper East Tennessee use “there” or “here” as an extra word in a sentence or at the end of a sentence there. There are many examples here. Here are a few there:

“How do you want me to do that there?”

“What do you think about that there?”

“In all my born days, I’ve never seen that there!”

“I thought I’d give you a call there.”

“What is that there thing doing here?”

“Well, I’m just a ‘sottin’ (sitting) here.”

“Do you want some of this here pie?”

 

The list, as in my mind, could go on infinitely! Of course, “there” is pronounced “thar,” and “here” is pronounced “hear,” with emphasis on the “he” and a slow drag out on the “ar.”

Well, the Appalachian Irishman became interested in this here topic on yesterday there. As far I know, no one else has posted anything on this here Interweb world of fun on this here topic there. So, it is up to me to take that there bull by the horns and to wrestle it to the ground there!

Okay, so, to all you linguists out there, why do we, here in Irish-American Appalachia, use “there” and/or “here” as extra words in sentences? This here inquiring mind wants to know there!

Thanks for the Birthday Wishes, on 7-17-2019! (published 7-21-2019)

Well, it’s not been a month or two, but today, 7/21/2019, I checked “Farcebook” to find, as well as I could count, twenty-six happy birthday wishes, from 24 national and two international friends! Well, that’s cool! My birthday was on Wednesday, 7/17/2019, a workday. (I check my “Farcebook” account about every month or two.)

Во-первых, моим русским хорошим друзьям, большое спасибо! Между нами много миль, но мы все еще близки, после всех этих лет! Я люблю каждого из вас!

Secondly, to my American friends, as in part of the prior Russian, I love each one of you, in Christ Jesus!

At age 59, this Appalachian Irishman, busted up as he is with “bionic” body parts, can still do almost everything that he could do, in his younger years. I still can’t run, really run, like I could, and I’m still about five minutes slower hiking up My Mountain, slowed only by my right foot and right knee. I am a fine-tuned race car, with a great engine and transmission. The frame has been damaged, so the ride is rough.

The rough ride goes on, until it’s time to go home. Make it soon, dear Lord! Make it soon! I’m ready to come see Mom, Dad, and so many who have gone home before me!

GOOD SISTER-IN-LAW & 7/20/2019 FAMILY TIME

Good Sister-In-Law

Mrs. Appalachian Irishman is the eldest of three sisters (as I’ve stated many times). On Friday, 7/19/2019, the middle sister -- my “favorite” sister-in-law (with apology to my youngest sister-in-law, who is my “favorite” in politics), via Mrs. Appalachian Irishman -- sent me the following, as a birthday gift!

 

The beef jerky and smoked sausages are the way to this Appalachian Irishman’s heart, and stomach! I have a couple of bags of jerky to eat (and to share with Molly), before I can get to these, but I WILL get to these. (Molly might get a little, maybe.) “Good things come to those who wait.” Note: I receive no money from any type of product endorsement; although, I can tell that these will be delicious!

Oh, you asked about the pink ribbon? Well, via Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, I’d given another set of four wheel covers, to my “favorite” sister-in-law, for her birthday last month. (If she’d stop trying to drive on two tires, in Dukes of Hazard style, she’d not lose wheel covers so often.) I replaced the two that were missing, again, as last year! Well, as I had asked, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman wrapped the same pink ribbon around the box, in which the wheel covers came. Ok, so, “favorite” sister-in-law gave me back the same pink ribbon! Now, that’s just funny!

7/20/2019 Family Time

The next day, Saturday, 7/20/2019, was the 50^th anniversary of the first moon landing. (I was there, hiding in the lunar module! I remember!)

Mrs. Appalachian Irishman’s birthday anniversary has always been one day after mine. (I wonder: why does that never change?) It was a work-a-day for me, and it was a summer time, whatever-she-does day for her. As part of her birthday gift, she picked Fountain City Diner, for a 1 PM dinner (not lunch; I ain’t a northerner or a city slicker). To join us were, in arrival order, my next-to-youngest brother, my “favorite” sister-in-law, and her daughter. Now that was some fine eatin’ and some good, family conversation!

Oh, the diner is closing, due to greedy landlord’s far too high rent increase. That’s the way to kill a great small business, landlord. I hope you sleep well at night, not really. The economy is NOT growing, at your 56% rent increase rate.

Okay, that’s enough of that sidetrack. I am still confused. The three females looked over the pies on display. They talked about pies, but they didn’t BUY any pies! What? Can you explain why not, to me?

7-13-2019 MASHED ‘TATER “WAR” (published 7-14-2019)

As an addendum to yesterday’s “Corn Dog!” article, after that event, I was on the phone with a good neighbor. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was sitting in a kitchen chair, tapping her foot on the floor. She was itching for me to get off the phone, so that she could kiss me and then, as her main priority, go to “check on” her Dad. He -- with sister-in-law, our niece (back again now), the “catdog,” and three cats -- lives three miles away. Go, dear, go, I motioned! She jaw kissed me and rolled on, while I was still trying to wind down the call with a long-winded neighbor! Now that’s just funny!

So, “what’s this mashed ‘tater war,” you ask? I’ll tell you! While Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was making certain, absolutely certain, that her Dad was fine, as he was, my youngest brother sent me a text -- which was too late for dinner or too early for supper -- stating that he was eating mashed potatoes and that I was not.

The challenge was on!

 

So, at the appropriate supper eating time, I took the above photograph of my plate, placed on an edge of the kitchen cabinet top. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman sent my youngest brother the photograph, in retaliation! Payback accomplished!

You know. I wonder. Why do all these people on “Farcebook” post photographs of food that they are about to it? It’s just silly to me! Eat it! Don’t photograph it! Don’t post the photograph on “Farcebook!” Please stop it!

Of course, as an Appalachian Irishman, raised in northeast Tennessee, I eat mashed potatoes almost every day! By my Irish roots, I wish that I could have some form of potatoes (e.g., hash browns, baked, mashed, etc.) at every one of my usual three meals a day!

“What is a “catdog,” you ask? Well, ask, and I’ll tell you!

The Ferrell/Farrell Family Group on “Farcebook” (published 7-14-2019)

One reason that this Appalachian Irishman uses his "Farcebook" account is to let his “friends” (i.e., real family and real friends) know when he has published a new article. (Some may not be subscribers.) This little article is my way to “return the favor” to “Farcebook.”

“The Ferrell/Farrell Family” is a private group on “Farcebook,” which a person may join, if approved. There are about 1,200 members. It started on 7/25/2012. The “about this group” states: “This group was created to make it easier to connect with our relatives. It's difficult nowadays to get together as a family, and we have lots and lots of family members spread all over the United States! This way, as a group, we can keep in touch much easier with each other.”

6/17/2023 addendum: website analytics showed me that someone had viewed the first article, on 7/14/2019 (of almost four years ago) in the last 24 hours. That article was on the mashed 'tater war. Re-reading that funny article, I happened to notice this second article of the same date. For this article, I changed the title, updated some of the wording, and added this addendum. “The Ferrell/Farrell Family” group is still active on “Farcebook.” Why is it either “Ferrell” or “Farrell?” Please ask! I'll explain!

CORN DOG! (published 7-13-2019)

On 7/8-14/2019, the new, improved, bigger, and better Gibbs Weigel’s is offering FREE corn dogs! We had received a flier in the mail with a coupon!

What else could an Appalachian Irishman do? About 12:30 PM, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, bravely, joined me, in the usual haul trash and get gas routine. However, this was a special day, as I was going to get me a FREE corn dog!

The storm clouds were showing. I hoped that we’d make it home, before the bottom dropped out of the clouds. Well, in typical Irish luck, after getting gas for my new ol' truck, we went inside, to get my FREE corn dog.

While inside, the bottom dropped! Noah would have been proud! It was a typical summer tropical down pour! After a few minutes of waiting, with conversation with a man about my same age or older, I said let’s get to the house!

Well, we both took a second shower for the day. Both of us were soaking wet. The rain cleaned out the inside of the cab, for my new ol' truck! Of course, I wiped out all the water, after I got my truck into the “barn” (i.e., garage)! I must respect my truck!

That was a lot of fun! At least I got a FREE corn dog!

Ferrell Heritage: 1974 Photograph and 7-6-2019 Photograph (published 7-7-2019; updated 11-10-2022)

11/10/2022 update: Today, website analytics showed that this article was viewed in the last 24 hours. Who viewed it? I don't know. I updated the title and improved the grammar and style a little. By the way, happy birthday today, Trina! (She is our niece, the daughter of my “favorite” sister-in-law.)

Summer of 1974

On a date after June, in the summer of 1974, Mom probably took the above photograph. The image includes: Dad (lower left); his two sisters, Aunt Carrie Davis and Aunt Lula Absher (farthest on the top right), the oldest two of the eight siblings; and four of his five brothers: Uncle Bill (lower right), Uncle Paul (upper left), Uncle George (center, standing), and Uncle Carson (lower center). Uncle Roy and his family, who lived in Washington, DC, were not present.

The photograph is a duplicate of the original. I had the original reprinted on 12/17/2002. As I recall, I gave the duplicates to my three brothers and my father, as Christmas gifts, on 12/25/2002. (Mom went to see Jesus, on 12/27/2000.)

The year 1974, in our new Caney Creek Road home, was a great life transition for the Earl and Betty Ferrell family! I started high school that fall. There are many memories from when we lived at the old Walter Livesay home, just off dead man’s curve on old Highway 11W. Memories continued at our Caney Creek Road home, where the above photograph was taken.

7/6/2019 (Saturday)

On Saturday, 7/6/2019, two of my three brothers were photographed at about the same spot at the Caney Creek Road homeplace. The “long-suffering” Mrs. Appalachian Irishman took the above image. I am the eldest of the four sons of Earl and Betty Ferrell. I’m standing on the right, wearing my House Mountain T-shirt! (Let’s hike!) My youngest brother, Doug (aka “Dougly Doright”), is in the middle. Clark (next-to-oldest, aka Clark “Kent”) is on the left. Arthur could not attend the gathering, due to car difficulties, as he claimed.

During the afternoon, we visited and ate outside on the front porch. A little pop-up shower joined us for a while. Doug and the youngsters played in the front yard. I picked up and piled branches. Everyone was in and out of the house often. Clark wanted us three brothers (minus Arthur) to be photographed at the same location as the 1974 photograph. That was a grand idea, Clark! We all had a great time!

The above is a photograph that I took. I see Clark and Doug, two of my three brothers.

The other family members are, from left to right: Shanna (Clark's youngest daughter). Shanna enjoyed going through Mom’s recipe books. She found and kept her old letter to Santa. Clark's oldest daughter, Alisha Barnette, and family could not attend.

Next is the “long-suffering” Mrs. Appalachian Irishman. To my wife's left is Clark’s fourth wife. On Clark's left is “Uncle” Skyler (Shanna’s son). Stacy, Doug’s wife, with Doug standing behind her, is next. Finally, Doug and Stacy's girls are Lillianna (the youngest) and Ariel (the firstborn).

The vehicle is Clark’s Nissan Pathfinder. The view looks northeast.

Behind me (the photographer) and not in the image is the grapevine, which still lives and produces grapes. The grapevine was a clipping from the grapevine that Granny and Papaw Wood had in their large backyard, at their home in Bean Station.

After Papaw died, in 1983, Granny began living with us. The grapevine continues.

Conclusion

I could write about many other family heritage memories, but it’s close to supper time. I hear Mrs. Appalachian Irishman finishing supper preparations. Let’s eat!

Well, at 7:20 PM, I'll publish this article. We had a good supper, such as it was. Molly, our ol' puppy, is inside. It's time to get ready to start another work week. Well, I had my one-day vacation this year, on Friday, 7/5/2019!