Friends Drift Inn Farm – Real Life
A Baby Boomer in Appalachia
Could Truffles find Happiness with Hank Shaw?
He is more obsessed with wild mushrooms than a Shire Hobbit.
I know. I know. He’s a James Beard nominee. He’s a cook.
I am just a Kentucky girl who resides in a barn sipping tea and baking Fat Rascals Cookies.
But living in the Appalachian Mountains, I too have tremendous opportunities for foraging. In a month or so, I’ll be out digging for sassafras root.
In the spring, I’ll go oft with the local “grannies” and collect salad greens.
And of course, there are blackberries in the summer and nuts in the fall.
If I can find time between my real job,
…sporting events, scout meetings, Master Gardeners, and the stacks of dishes and laundry that call my name in shrill accusing voices, I will be foraging.
But I digress.
You see, Hank Shaw just seems to pick up and go on a whim.
His foraging forays sound so peaceful. So serene.
Let me tell you something. Foraging isn’t pretty.
There’s chiggers. There’s briars. There’s mosquitoes and slitherings.
Don’t get me wrong, I love to go foraging. And as the seasons present themselves, I’ll be sharing some stories about my forest stomping ways.
But right here, right now, it’s cold. Shaw basks in the warmth of California dreaming.
They’ll be no wild mushrooms at Friends Drift Inn unless Hank Shaw delivers them himself.
Not likely.
Until then, I’ll content myself with Truffles. Not the fungi, but the pig. She has a black spot under her chin, presumably from rooting prized truffle fungi from the dirt.
I don’t think Hank Shaw would be amused if I offered her services.
That’s okay. Truffles is warm and cozy under the buffet table at the Big Red Barn.
Think I’ll have another cup of tea, and dream of summers yet to unfold.
Post Script Thoughts 2016
As I update Friends Drift Inn blog, I reflect upon these early posts of innocence. Those were the days when I believed blogging was the answer to advancing a writing career while at the same time bringing positive “real-life” attention to Appalachia. But as the years flew by, it became apparent I had to choose whether to narrate life or live it. I could look at life, or live each day to the fullest trying to make a difference in my little corner of Appalachia. The maddening amount of time it takes to photograph and write for a blog is a challenge. The burden of promoting the efforts further takes time away from what I think is important.
In the here and now, I am hoping to find a balance between blogging, media promotion, and the real life of farming and advocating agriculture in Appalachia. It is my hope, 2016 will be the year of abundant harvests, mountains of opportunities, and a barn full of giggles. Farming, blogging, writing, and promotions it is hard work. It is lonely work.
In 2011, I thought I could do it all. In 2016, I realize that while my passion is boundless, my energy is finite. Prioritizing, when there are so many pressing and urgent matters on the plate in Appalachia is hard for me. But as weird as it sounds, life seems to have led me back to those early musings of 2011 in so many ways!
Hank Shaw influenced me early on and still does. I had the pleasure of meeting him and sipping a few bourbons with him at a book promotion dinner. We had a good time. We both have a strong work ethic; we both want to be authentic.
Hank continued to blog; I pushed mine aside due to family obligations and a general resentment of the time it takes to be a successful blogger.
Sometimes the universe has a way of talking to you. Life has come full circle and again, I turn to Hank Shaw for renewed inspiration. Hank’s post Stepping of the Habitrail, referencing the hamster’s mindless spinning of the wheel, hit home with me.
In 2016, I will blog when I can. But this time it on my terms. Thanks Hank!
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