Down in the Holler

About 15 years ago my mother was living and working in Ocala, FL.  She was single at the time and it was there that she met her future husband, Mel, a building contractor from Palatka, FL.  They got married and she moved to Palatka.  Soon afterward though they decided to retire together to Tennessee.  Mel owned some land near Elizabethton, a small town not too far from the North Carolina/Tennessee border.  They picked up a few home plan magazines and looked through them separately, noting privately the plans they liked.  After they compared their favorites only one house made the cut with both of them.  So Mel, being a building contractor after all, called up some friends and they built their dream house in a holler about 12 miles out of town.



You've heard of a Tennessee holler.  Any country song worth it's salt references the holler.  A holler is simply a small valley between two hills or mountains.  They have catchy names like "Possum Holler" or "Heavenly Holler" to name a few.    Mom and Mel reside in "Blue Springs" holler.  You won't find that name on any map -  it's a local thing.

View from the rocking chair

This picture was taken from their front porch and as you can see the mountain is just across the road - a road by the way that is a bit on the narrow side.  Unless you're driving a Subaru you pretty much need to hug the yellow line and hope for the best when oncoming traffic approaches.  Lulu was hanging over the line a good foot or two on the way up but it all worked out -  folks give you room up here.

Fertile fields

On the left is the view from the back porch.  Fertile fields and farm houses.  All the land you see here is worked by a number of relatives, close or distant, of Mel's.  They've owned the land for generations.  Everyone has a garden and the land always gives back.  The big field might be corn one year (with an elaborate maze cut into it around Halloween), hay the next, pumpkins the next, etc.  There are a good number of cattle in the fields as well.  It's a place where a city slicker couldn't imagine living and a local couldn't imagine leaving.  In the 4 days I've been here I haven't heard one siren but have heard a lot of gun shots off in the distance -  it's hunting season after all.

The law comes around frequently, though not usually on official business.  Mel operates a  gun shop in the basement so hunters, old friends and local deputies are stopping by all the time.  It's really a combination gunshop/social hangout.  That's what social networking means around here.  The firing range Mel uses after he repairs a gun is the driveway - although we have a new rule now - notify the guy in the camper first......

I plan to take a ride soon up to the local Tennessee Valley Authority dam and recreation area.  The Cherokee National Forest is right down the road  as well so lots to show you.  You city slickers may need to rethink things.