POST 1447; DECEMBER 21, 2014; HURRICANE, WEST VIRGINIA

11:30 Sunday morning in CULLODEN (Hurricane) is a sunny 40 F.  DALLAS and CAROL have done the hospital daily routine for DALLAS' Toe and taken in church in CAROL's neighborhood.  I'm dog sitting for Buddy.  Would rather be at SALLY's church, where I have been many times welcomed.  Being some 25 miles distant, however, is too far to walk in daylight...the Mud River Road being narrow winding without a side berm to escape passing vehicles.

Yesterday, attended DALLAS' Seventh Day Adventist church at East Pea Ridge, where we enjoyed an after-service Christmas Dinner/Lunch...visiting with old friends who have lived at some distant past in or near my birthplace, SEATTLE, Washington State.

Last evening, attended the local CULLODEN OPRY Christmas Dance and Dinner with some 200 local folks.  BETTY was there with  her acclaimed Fruit Jello Dessert.  Was appeased by BETTY accepting to dance with me during the entire 7 to 11 PM evening.  BETTY made convincingly clear that we remain close friends...but no chance for future co-habitation.  My foolishness in reacting to her..."..we do it my way...(and)...I told you I needed help and time to find 'TRUST' "... by packing my bag (for the third time ).  Calling my bluff, BETTY drove me back to DALLAS' home with vehement anger ending our short relationship.  

On the Eastern side of the OHIO RIVER and bounded by the ancient ALLEGHENY MOUNTAINS, the Northern end of which continue into Arctic wastes of SCANDINAVIA (EUROPE), lie the hills and valleys of WEST VIRGINIA.  In this rugged countryside live the folks with whom I have resided since arriving late October 2014.  Accepted with open arms by one and all, I quickly learned that
knowing one meant becoming known to a far reaching community of family and friends.  Up and down the hidden HOLLOWS (Hollers - Valleys) leading to delightful small villages and large towns - cities, actions and utterances one moment became common knowledge seemingly moments later.

Fiercely proud and protective of generations of life in the forested hills and valleys, newcomers are welcomed with lyrical - near musical - local dialect smilingly ignoring traditional "good" grammar, accusing visitors speaking with strong difficult-to-understand foreign accents.  One listens closely and heeds body language to "get it"; so as not to be misunderstood...or to misunderstand.

I confess to shirking my goal to blog (share) that which I see, hear, and learn.   My quick invitation and absorption into intimate personal and family life completely overwhelmed me.  Not that I feel need to apologize...but the adoration, intimacy and pleasures of the moment leaped to become my first priority.  In difference to those who have become dear to me, restraint in sharing details has been paramount.

* * * * * * * * * * *

...and so, SAM and ME are once again alone.

We hold this place and these people close to our heart.  I have been granted a special gift to be welcomed, loved, and cherished...a gift rare for one so old, so unknown, and so desperate to be accepted.

I know not what lies before SAM and ME.   It is our hope that our pride in those who have received and taken us in... is reciprocal.