MOM’S BIRTHDAY (published 11-24-2019)

On 11/24/1908, Tuesday, my paternal grandparents were licensed to wed. They were married the next day. That began the line, via their eighth and final child, Earl Ferrell, that led to me! I miss you too, Dad! I would like to see now what Mom, you, and so many others are seeing and doing right now!

On 11/24/1932, Thanksgiving Thursday, my Mother, Betty Lou Wood (to become Ferrell), was born, to Aby William Wood and Lula Frank Amos Wood, my maternal grandparents. My Tuesday, 11/24/2009, post Happy Birthday, Mom, is still relevant. I suggest that you read it now. I just did. I choked back the tears just now, 3:47 PM, on 11/24/2019. Mom, at age 87, if you were still here and in good health for your age, oh how we would all be enjoying your birthday celebration this Sunday! One glorious morning; may it come soon, Lord; we will all have far more everlasting joy than we could be having today. I can’t wait until then! I love and miss you, Mom! We will see each other again, soon. (Soon is whatever number of years or decades I must remain here, until then.)

Okay, I will not and do not live in the past. Let’s first review this last week, since my last post. Then, we’ll have some fun at the end!

11/18/2019, Monday: my “favorite” sister-in-law, on her way to a medical appointment, had her car hit in the left rear quarter panel, due to an idiot driver. She was not hurt, thankfully. Her car will be repaired.

11/21/2019, Thursday: on 11/21/1970, my grandfather Marion Ferrell (notice any similarities?) left this world for home. I was ten years old. At some point after I was born, Papaw Ferrell started a savings account in my name, at the hometown bank. The account is still open. On 11/21/2019, the small transfer that I had arranged from our checking into that savings was done. I wonder if Papaw Ferrell smiled even more on that day!

11/23/2019, Saturday: I had my every-four-week deep tissue massage, to be followed by every-four-week chiropractor, 11/26/2019 upcoming. The rain rained almost the entire day. My new, ‘ol truck kept getting a “hillbilly” wash!

In the afternoon, from contact with a dear friend, from grade school and high school days, I spoke by phone with my dear friend! We must have talked over two hours! I did not know that my dear friend was enduring the physical reality, after the 2/28/2018 traumatic health problem. My dear friend and I spoke in terms of our day-by-day endurance of our physical “whatevers” as I call them. Most importantly, we spoke deeply and in full mutual understanding of the everlasting. One fine morning, my dear friend, we will be out of this speck of dust, blink of an eye, temporal realm, and we will be with our Savior and so many others who have gone before us! You know, they are there now. When we arrive, it will seem to them that we all arrived at about the same time, with them having arrived a few moments before us only! I continue to wait on that blessed day!

Oh, my dear friend, thank you for remembering that which I had forgotten. I still do not remember what you very vividly still recall, about when I was almost killed by a driver that did not stop for the bus, when I was crossing the road from bus to dirt road walk home! Wow! Thank you for remembering, so that I can now know what I had forgotten! I do remember Wilma was the bus driver. After I pondered the thought a while, I do seem to recall a vague memory of that day when I could have but didn’t die.

I could have but didn’t die on 3/29/2016. You could have but didn’t die on 2/28/2018. We touched each other’s lives by phone yesterday. We both must still be in this temporal, blink of an eye, world for a reason that God only knows. What is it, God? Okay, silence, again, as usual. I’ll continue to wait.

Where’s the fun part, you ask? Well, since it’s a cloudy day and House Mountain is a muddy skating rink, let’s have some fun now! While I was indulging myself in an Epsom Salt soak in the tub this morning, my fertile mind started thinking about “The Farmer in the Dell.” So, here goes! Sing along!

The farmer named O’Dell.
The farmer named O’Dell.
High ho the merry-o,
The farmer named O’Dell. (I always wondered what his name was! Must have been the father of Dell computers!)

The farmer had a life.
The farmer had a life.
High ho the merry-o,
The farmer had a life.

The life had some fun.
The life had some fun.
High ho the merry-o,
The life had some fun.

The fun took some cry.
The fun took some cry.
High ho the merry-o,
The fun took some cry.

The cry took the Lord.
The cry took the Lord.
High ho the merry-o,
The cry took the Lord.

The Lord took him home.
The Lord took him home.
High ho the merry-o,
The LORD TOOK HIM HOME!

Now, let’s have a bit of fun with the rest of it!

The dog ate the cheese.
The dog ate the cheese.
High ho the merry-o,
The dog ate the cheese.

The cheese in the dog.
The cheese in the dog.
High ho the merry-o,
The cheese in the dog. (Why did the dog eat cheese?)

The dog crapped the cheese.
The dog crapped the cheese.
High ho the merry-o,
The dog crapped the cheese. (That’s what happens when a dog eats cheese!)

The crap stands alone.
The crap stands alone.
High ho the merry-o,
The crap stands alone (as if it could stand)!
 

All you summer church camp folks, feel free to use this! Give me a bit of credit. The moral to the song: life can be crap, but we GO HOME!

Y’all keep turnin’ right and goin’ straight out there! Oh, if you haven’t had enough sense yet to take up the Good Lord’s free gift offer and live by it, I suggest that you do so, today!

My Mom would have loved my play on “The Farmer in the Dell,” except for the “crap” word. Dad would have loved it completely!

11/17/2019, SUNDAY SOLILOQUY

On Tuesday, 11/12/2019, while almost home from the office, my veteran brother called me back and left voice mail, on my cell phone that was hooked, on my belt, next to my right hip. I was almost home. Therefore, after having arrived home and having played in the yard with Molly, our doggy, I called him, from the landline (from which I’d left him voice mail, yesterday, on Veterans Day). My veteran brother is doing well enough, and he understands the “fool” on the hill analogy, or the everlasting perspective, as I thought that he would! (See the 11/11/2019 article, titled “The Fool on the Hill.”)

That Tuesday was also the day, of the “November blizzard” that almost “killed” everyone, in upper East Tennessee, as the weather folks sensationalized it! The low was a balmy 18 degrees Fahrenheit. The high was a “tropical” 28 degrees. We may have had about two inches of snow.

Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, of course, had a “snow day” off. She didn’t build a “snow doggy,” around which Molly could play. She didn’t make and toss snowballs for Molly. She stayed inside! I would have taken Molly hiking, on House Mountain, busted up, such as I am.

My “favorite” sister-in-law called, in the evening, and I answered. That’s how I found out that Mrs. Appalachian Irishman had run a low-grade fever during the day! Thanks, “favorite” sister-in-law, for letting me know! Why didn't my wife mention that she'd had a fever?

On Wednesday, 11/13/2019, I worked a full shift, as usual. My wife had a two-hour “snow” delay. Around here, the snow had already melted.

On Thursday, 11/14/2019, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman left early, from work, to take her father to a medical appointment. She honors her father. I remember taking Dad, to and from his Johnson City appointments, with Dr. Sholes. Back then, I was working either my second shift job or my flexible shift job, whichever one it was at the time.

Friday, 11/15/2019, was a shock! My youngest brother's wife had to have an unplanned outpatient surgery, to repair, as I assume, the incorrectly done first surgery, on her left foot. She has, as far as I know, no additional metal in her foot. I think that the surgeon fixed the metal that was already there. She had to be cut on again, though.

Saturday, 11/16/2019, was a “rich, full” day, for me: haul off trash, haircut, truck wash, Tractor Supply, truck oil change (and cabin air filter replace), and truck gas. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman made the usual IGA trip, for groceries. Afterward, a cable television technician arrived. He replaced the outdated equipment, in the box, on the side of our house. He gave us the new remote that we’ve needed. Good job!

After morning worship, today, Sunday, 11/17/2019, we thought that we might go to my hometown, to see youngest brother and his family, but he had too much going on. Also, darn, if my “bionic” body parts were not “talking” to me today, after all the “fool” on the hill “fun” that I endured last week!

When’s supper dear? Good evening, y’all!

"THE FOOL ON THE HILL" (published 11-11-2019)

Day after day, alone on a hill,
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still.
But nobody wants to know him;
They can see that he's just a fool.
And he never gives an answer.

But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning 'round.

Well on the way, head in a cloud,
The man of a thousand voices talking perfectly loud.
But nobody ever hears him,
Or the sound he appears to make,
And he never seems to notice.

But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning 'round.

And nobody seems to like him.
They can tell what he wants to do.
And he never shows his feelings.

But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning 'round.

He never listens to them.
He knows that they're the fools.
They don't like him.

The fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning 'round.

It’s time to get serious, folks! (I have a serious side. It's my right side. No, it's my left side!) On this Veterans Day, my plan, to go to the homeplace, was forestalled, by the need to see my chiropractor, earlier today. (You don’t want to know the details. Trust me. The right rib is back in place!)

So, as I sit writing, alone, again, as usual, this afternoon, I remember Veterans Day. “The Fool on the Hill,” by the Beatles, is a great song, with a depth of meaning, that one can make his own. I am doing so now.

Imagine (a pun on another song) the veteran, who has seen too much in life. He knows what he knows. He has seen and endured, what he has seen and endured. He has served his country. Those around him, even his closest non-veteran family and friends, do not understand him fully. He understands himself fully. His loud communication, about his self-understanding, to others, receives incomplete and partial understanding, at best. At worst, he receives the standard platitudes that cause him to wonder why he even tried to communicate, with those, who will never be wise enough to understand.

The veteran, if he is wise enough, has taken the Good Lord’s free gift offer. He thinks, with the everlasting mindset. He does not care much, for this space-time continuum. He knows that he is a speck of dust, on a larger speck of dust, in a vast and temporal universe, which is not everlasting.

By the way, I just left voice mail, on my veteran brother’s phone. He might call back. [11/12/2019, next day, update: my brother called back today. He'd been quite busy yesterday. We enjoyed a good, long phone conversation today.]

I did not serve in the military. (I wish that I had done so.) My “fool on the hill” thoughts do not compare, with those of a combat veteran. Still yet, I have my thoughts. They are based on my life, after having acquired “bionic” body parts (left shoulder, right knee, and right foot). I had a life, in a pre-bionic body. I am living an ongoing bionic life now. (To understand my use of “bionic,” please see the 8/26/2016 article, which is the first, under the topic section, “My Bionic Life - since 3/29/2016.”)

The acquisition of bionic joints has deepened my thoughts, on everlastingness. Before, I had assumed that my thoughts were deep. They were, but not as deep as now. (Dig a little deeper in the well, boys!)

The catalyst, behind this article, is twofold. First, on a work day, last Wednesday, a colleague -- working from home and on speaker phone, during the usual Wednesday meeting that wastes our time -- asked, “How is everyone?” My reply was, “I am surviving.” My meaning was that I am enduring a work week, with my three stiff and sore bionic joints, again, as usual. Her response was, “it’s better than being six feet under.” The others -- present physically, in the meeting, as I was -- laughed and agreed. I shook my head in silence. My thought was, “Take me home, Lord! I'm very stiff and sore today! I’d rather have this body six feet under and be, in my soul, with many others and You! I will get this body back, glorified, later!” Of course, I was thinking perfectly loud, while keeping perfectly quiet, as the “fool on the hill.”

The second catalyst was on Saturday, 11/9/2019. I was hauling off trash, as usual. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, by the way, was doing her usual Dollar General Store and IGA shopping, followed by her visit, to her father. While hauling trash, I heard, on my ol' truck’s radio, the Beatles' song, “The Fool on the Hill.” Hey, that was great! Various stations play their standard song rotations, but the station, to which I'd happened to be listening, played a good song, at the right time!

During the song, I thought back to last Wednesday. I thought, in the everlasting perspective. I pitched the trash and the recycling. Then, I mused more to myself, again, as usual.

This “fool on the hill” does not concern himself much, with the here and now. You know. The here and now are the usual: the work policy wonk and psychobabble, the local, national, and international news, the weather alert days, sports news, my hiking, visits with family and friends, my every four-week deep tissue massage, followed by my every four-week chiropractic adjustment, and so forth. It's life, such as it is, going on.

Oh, yes, I am about as tired of it, as you may be, dear reader! I apologize, if the last paragraph made you feel tired.

Despite what I've written, thus far, do not doubt my stubborn, Irish endurance! As a fine Irish lady once said, “You can always live in hope, even if you die in despair!” Always, there will be will, in my spirit, even when my spirit leaves this body. As long as my spirit is in this body, and as long as I have power in my body (busted up, such as I am), then I will endure to the end, of my temporal existence, to be taken Home!

When are you coming back, Lord? When will be my turn, to go Home, if You don’t come before? Silence, again, as usual.

Yesterday was my 161st hike, on House Mountain, on our niece's birthday, as the 11/10/2019 article describes. Afterward, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I placed the outdoor thermometer, on the front porch. I had bought the $5.59, made in China, thermometer, at Ace Hardware, on 4/16/2019. It takes me a few months, about seven, in this example, to get something done now. I’m slowed, by my three bionic joints. Believe it or not, the rigors of hiking actually help those joints.

This “fool on the hill” is signing off now. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman just came home. My veteran brother has not called back yet. Let’s all take up the Lord’s free gift offer, live by it, and go Home!

So, who is brave enough to comment?

11/10/2019, HOUSE MOUNTAIN #161

Howdy, y’all!

As a side note, to yesterday’s article, “11/9/2019, Saturday Soliloquy,” I had hoped to get up to the homeplace, to do some work, but my “bionic” left shoulder that is ricocheting, into my back muscles and, especially, left hip, did not agree. So, I let my left shoulder win, this time only!

Today is our niece's birthday. (If “sister-in-law” is correct, then way don’t we say “niece-in-law?” She is my sister-in-law’s daughter! I digress, of course.) Earlier today, for our niece and for all veterans, especially the veterans, in the Fearghail clan, I hiked House Mountain #161, alone, again, as usual!

It is still too warm, but the weather was sunny. Any day in the woods is better than not! Enjoy the photographs!

The above was all that was left of me! Why did I wear my short sleeve hiking shirt? The T-shirt would have been enough. This is my usual photograph, on the west bluff. It took me 34 minutes, from start, to the rock that I touch. One of these days, maybe, I might get back, to a 24-minute time. My “bionic” right foot and right knee still don’t allow me to be anything more than a lame mountain goat.

The above photograph was on my way back down. The west bluff is above me. There were way too many pine beetles, attaching themselves to me, on this quite warm day.

I forgot to take a photograph of my new, ol' truck! Sorry, ol' truck! I was trying to figure out how to get out of the parking spot, with all the vehicles around us! Ol' truck, please forgive me! Thank you! (My ol' truck had said, “You are forgiven!”)

Speaking of pine beetles, look for my next article. It will include deeper musings, as inspired by The Beatles’ song, “The Fool On The Hill." You don't want to miss it! Keep turnin’ right and goin’ straight out there!

11/9/2019, SATURDAY SOLILOQUY

Well, evenin’, y’all! Do you think “them thar” Louisiana Tigers will whop “them thar” Alabama Elephants? We’ll see.

This week involved a technobabble, “interweb” win!

11/4/2019, Monday: Singh, from Jaipur, India, established that my Norton protection and computer speed was as good as it can get, until “Microcrap” gets more money out of my back pocket, to upgrade to “Winders 10.” I like what I have. Why is “Microcrap” stopping support in January? Oh, yeah, they want even more money!

11/6/2019, Wednesday: my Yoder’s Store Tonic that I’d ordered, on 11/1/2019, via the “interweb,” arrived! I “interweb” commented a good note to their “interweb” blog guy’s blog. (See WordPress, below.)

Today, 11/9/2019, Saturday (hence, the “Soliloquy” title; it rhymes): I got on that “thar” “interweb” again! I set up my savings account that Papaw Ferrell started for me when I was a boy (when the bank had another name), to “talk to” our local bank! Hey, now I can transfer money from our local bank to my Papaw Ferrell savings account, without the need to make a deposit in person! That’ll keep my Papaw Ferrell savings account from going dormant again! For years, even decades, I’ve had to send the postal letter, telling the savings account folks not to send my account to the State, as an unclaimed property! No more! Hey, I’m into the last part of the 20^th century, finally! (Oh, by the way, later today, I set up my WordPress account, to bring in even more “millions” of readers to this website!)

Of course, I should have been born in 1860. Then, I could have been “my own grandpaw!” (You know the song!)

Y’all keep turnin’ right and goin’ straight out there!

SUNDAY MUSINGS & 10-27-2019 HOUSE MOUNTAIN #160 (published 11-3-2019)

Well, howdy, y’all! On a great weather for hiking weekend, here I “sot,” not having hiked. Why, you ask? Well, read below on House Mountain #160! Wisdom dictates: let the right heel heal more!

The following is the chronological update, since my last entry. I know that my “millions” of readers have been concerned!

10/8/2019, Yom Kippur at sundown: before sundown, after work-a-day, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I talked with neighbor to our northeast, in his yard. He’s a fine fellow and family. Neighbor to our west was strolling along, with his grandson in a stroller. These two neighbors don’t get along. We get along with each one. We spoke to strolling along neighbor. Northeast neighbor didn’t. Y’all grow up and make friends! Aren’t y’all old enough to do so?

10/9-13/2019: a good cousin of mine, to communicate with me, texts Mrs. Appalachian Irishman a few times. We, as cousins, talked by phone on 10/13/2019, regarding a family get together that good cousin and family have planned for 10/26/2019. Hey, ‘cuz! Just call ME anytime!

10/10/2019: our mower guy mowed for first time since 9/20/2019. (Why he mowed then is a mystery, during the September drought.) I figure that I owe him money, but I called him, and he said no. Ok, I think that my bookkeeping is better than yours, but if you don’t need to be paid, it’s fine.

10/11/2019, Friday: Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I are both off work. She had the airbag recall (from 2016) on the car fixed finally at no cost. She gave Molly puppy a much-needed bath. I had my annual physical exam. My good doctor bragged, in his words, “again, as usual,” on my great blood work! Maybe I’ll see his wife and him, again, hiking My Mountain. (I saw them on 03/4/2018 hike #146)!

Oh, on the same day, the Comcrap fight started and is still ongoing! Take away TCM and make me pay the same money for one less channel? So far, I’ve won a draw. We have a free set of movie channels that we don’t watch, and we did not get the $20 one-time discount promised. Watch me win!

10/12/2019, Saturday: Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I visited youngest brother and his family, in my hometown. We picked up/brought lunch from Green Tomato Grill to them/us. That was a fine visit – except for the very rare Georgia Bulldogs loss and Tennessee “Vowels” win. Argh! Oh, on the way home, I bought another bottle of tonic. The last time I bought the tonic had to have been in the summer of 2015, before “pre-metal” days. Here’s the photo of the 2015 purchase and the 10/12/2019 (not 11/12/2019, incorrectly on the note on the label!) purchase. They went up a couple of dollars. An ounce a day does the body whatever it does!

 

11/1/2019, Friday, update: the Amish Yoder’s are gettin’ fancy! They have an “Interweb” site! I ordered me three, count ‘em, three more bottles, on the “Interweb,” with free shipping!

10/14/2019: Mrs. Appalachian Irishman is still off work-a-day, on “fall break.” That means: I had “cat-dog” surprise, when I finished my work-a-day! Oh, well. Also, the County Animal Control Sheriff unit was at fourth new neighbor’s. Hum, what’s up? 9:19 PM, I took a call from west neighbor (the same that was strolling along). He stated: he and grandson in stroller were strolling along as usual, when “white dog” (not “brown dog”) attacked! He had bite marks on his leg. The grandson was not injured, thankfully! Now, we know what happened! Oh, as of this entry, “white dog” and “brown dog” are still alive. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman saw them outside once. Fourth new neighbor must be keeping them inside mostly now. “White dog” should be dead!

10/19/2019, Saturday: it was my usual once every four weeks haircut and Tractor Supply. Hey, they have plenty of pecan logs now!

10/20/2019, Sunday: rain. When will I get hike #160 on “My Mountain?” Read on!

10/26/2019, Saturday: I had my fifth deep tissue, one-hour, massage, at 12 PM. My youngest brother had to work. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I had hoped we could attend good cousin’s family get together, in my hometown. We didn’t make it, unfortunately. I voice mailed my good cousin twice, in hope that I could convey my gift of the blarney by phone at least. No reply yet.

10/27/2019, Sunday: finally, I get a hike! It’s my House Mountain hike #160! (That’s eight score, you know?) Even if it was a bit muddy, cloudy, and too warm for this time of year, any day in the woods is better than not! Enjoy the photos! Oh, by the way, the final photo is of my bloody right sock! It seems that the scab on the back of my heal might, after almost three and a half years, be starting to come off all the way! That’s progress! (Don’t look at the sock photo, if you don’t like the sight of blood and a piece of scab!) I tore holes in both socks also! What fun! It was great!

View from west bluff, looking southwest.

View of the valley to the north, on the ridge line.

First view from the middle bluff, looking north toward the valley.

Second view from middle bluff, looking west. The west bluff is visible.

My reliable, new, ol' truck loves to have his photo taken! He reached 169,000 miles, on the dot, a very few tenths of a mile, after we left the parking lot! My House Mountain hike #160. My truck reaches 169,000 miles! Cool!

I told you not to look!

10/29/2019, Tuesday: 3/29/2016 was my I-got-hammered-time (i.e., 25 surgically installed metal pieces in three joints). (Read my 8/26/2016 post, “I’M STILL ALIVE – WHY?”) This was my 3.5-year anniversary of that “fun.” It was also Mrs. Appalachian Irishman’s parents’ wedding anniversary. Of course, my mother-in-law has gone to a better world. (Read my 6/14/2017 post, “5-14-2017: Mother's Day & House Mt. #138.”) We had our every-four-week chiropractic appointment, after work, again, as usual. As usual, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman had her adjustment and left, leaving me with the tab. Good job, dear! After arriving home, I took my first Free Cell (mind numbing) loss on this computer, after however many wins in a row. (What was I thinking? It’s easy!) The Free Cell game loss on this day is fitting!

10/30/2019, Wednesday: while on the way to work-a-day, my new ol' truck attained 170,000 miles! I remember the Ailor Gap Road spot!

10/31/2019, Thursday/Halloween: after my usual hot shower/cold rinse/rubbing alcohol rub (i.e., for “bionic” joints), I found a tick on the back of my right shoulder! Now, where had he been all this time, since House Mountain hike #160? I pulled him off, rubbed the red spot in alcohol, and went on to the insanity of work-a-day “whizzbang” silliness! At work, those women had wanted to dress up in a theme, again. I came as “a hiker,” again, as usual! I wore an old pair of jeans, my short sleeve hiking shirt, my hiking ball cap, and my boots. I had my canteen and knife sheath too. Those women need to grow up! Well, it rained all day, with temperature dropping into a more fall like feel! We had once set, in two cars, of about five trick-or-treaters who were brave enough in the weather, to come hunt candy! Molly doggy loved it! It was Molly doggy’s forth birthday anniversary! She had a great time, for a few moments!

11/2-3/2019 weekend: well, we have great hiking weather. Wisdom dictated that I not hike, since the half gone scab on my right heel is still healing! Oh well, maybe; yes certainly, if there is power in my body, I will hike next weekend! I have will in my spirit!

Hey, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, when’s supper?

Y’all keep turnin’ right and goin’ straight out there, ya hear?