CrApPy AnNiVeRsArY. Thanks, JD Vance!
It was one year ago - July 31, 2023 - that my brain cracked. I have chalked it up to dehydration, heat, and poor nutrition, but I’m blaming it all on JD Vance anyway.
All day, an old song I never understood or liked has been running through my head as I contemplated what I might say here about the 31st of July:
“It was the 3rd of June, another sleepy, dusty delta da-a-a-ay. I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was baling ha-a-a-ay…”
Yup - Ode to Billie Joe, sung by Bobbie Gentry back in 1967, when I was 15 and infatuated with the Beatles. I didn’t know then what a delta was, what Billie Joe (and the girl who looked a lot like Bobbie Gentry) threw off the Tallahatchie bridge, or why they were even spending a lot of time up on Choctaw Ridge. Didn’t care. The whole song made me feel like it was too hot out to do anything except complain about how hot out it is, but a snippet of the lyric - “a year ago” - planted itself in my head. I’m hoping tonight’s ButtonDown puts it to rest.
First of all, it isn’t too hot out, although a couple of weeks ago, it was. We’ve been having fabulous thunderstorms and heavy rain, which we need. The other day, two thunderbolts hit at the same second, about 4 blocks away from each other in downtown Burnsville. From my desk at the Chamber visitor center, I saw one of them hit. It blew the wifi out at the NuWray Hotel across the square. I’m sure back home the dogs were terrified and hiding.
When I lived out in Higgins, our neighbors’ dog (Miz Dawg) would sense a thunderstorm two days away and break through our screen door, go straight into the kitchen, and hide in the cabinet under the sink. One time, Ex and I came home after a long weekend at a VW air-cooled bus camp out to find her there. Shortly afterwards, our friend Denny replaced the screen with one that had a piano hinge that allowed her to go in and come out. Everybody was happy. Denny died a couple of weeks ago - I had just talked with him; he’d had his leg amputated below the knee due to a rare cancer, but it still got him. I miss him so much.
Speaking of dogs, someone I didn’t know found out somehow that I board dogs. He needed to go out of town for almost a month, and I agreed to take ‘Sarah’ in. He said she was an outdoors dog. Fine. Mistake, it turned out. I kept her on the porch with access to the front yard. She’s a Husky and likes to lay down in a kiddie pool and/or walk through her water bowls. Her owner forgot to bring her kiddie pool, so I bought one. We did okay for almost two weeks, but one day when I’d - as usual - let my little dog Fang out front. She noticed a piece of kibble near Sarah’s dish. Naturally, she went to it to snap it up, and Sarah attacked her. If Sarah had tried to scare Sadie away, Sadie, even though they’re the same size, would have backed off. Fang, who’s ¼ of Sarah’s size, never backs off.
It was scary but thankfully short-lived, as I was right there and got Sarah away, scooped up Fang and got her calmed down. No blood; just a little fur missing and a temporary limp. But I asked Jim if he’d take Sarah out to his place, as he’s got a nice fenced yard in the shade. He did, bless his heart. But…
…then, the cat the police had brought over to my neighbors (upon my suggestion) needed to be rehomed asap, as she was a bit too aggressive with their multiple cats and dogs. (Backstory: the police had called me during a Dem meeting, as they’d done a welfare check on a woman who was in very bad shape; bedridden and unable to take care of her own bidness, much less take care of her very spoiled, very fat cat. She would not agree to be transported until a foster home was confirmed for her cat. The police know me as the Dog Lady, so why they called me of all people is a mystery.)
The neighbors became desperate to get rid of the extra cat, and Jim said he’d foster, but not while the Husky was still at his place. So he brought the Husky back to me today, and then picked up the cat. We both hope the cat owner gets well very soon, goes home, and can get her cat back. If not, the kitty will go to our very excellent shelter. She’s very adoptable - sweet, and litter box trained. Fingers crossed. If I ever get another cat call, I’m going to say NO.
I thought I was a cat person until 1998-ish I went to the Yancey shelter to pick up a cat to help control the river rats infesting the rock house out in Higgins. At that time, the shelter was in what used to be a gas station out on Pine Swamp Road. Cheri Lee was running it by herself. After I parked my car and started to walk up to the building, I saw 3 or 4 puppies in a playpen. I picked one up, nuzzled it, put it down on the grass, where it peed. I picked it up, nuzzled it some more, and adopted it.
As luck would have it, she turned out to be an excellent rat terrier. I named her ‘Baguette’ since she was sort of shaped like one. Now, I am not a person who trains dogs to commands; neither Sadie nor Fang would have a clue if I told them to sit. But if I whispered "Baguette!” to her, she'd come to me and I would point to where a rat was hiding - usually behind the corner cabinet in the kitchen. She'd wait on one side while I poked the end of a broomstick at the rat from the other side. Voila'! Out it ran. She snapped it up, and carried it outside to kill it, flipping it up and down a couple of times, then leave it on the lawn.
After a couple of days, something from below would tunnel up and get it, taking a couple more days to draw the carcass underground. I'd walk out the front door only to see the rear end of a rat sticking up out of the grass. Fortunately, once it was dead, Baguette lost interest.
After the divorce and I'd moved to town and got JodietheFosterdog, I'd come into the house to find presents such as dead bunnies or squirrels. Dogs....eh.
Oops....forgot why I'm blaming JD Vance for my brain-crack one year ago. Listen: "It was the 31st of July, another sleepy, hot, mountain da-a-a-ay...."
SO - one year ago today, I was leaving my friend Ronni a birthday present (birthday August 1st). She owns this great independent bookstore called Plott Hound Books in Burnsville. She hated JD Vance's book "Hillbilly Elegy" and had mentioned she'd like to use his book as a doorstop for the bookstore.
I'd gone to a big used bookstore in Asheville and bought 3 copies of Hillbilly Elegy. I tossed the books, and glued the 3 book covers to a partially-empty paint can. The back cover of the book included a couple of reviews, including "A riveting book." I inked out the word "riveting" so it just said "A book." Pasted that to the lid of the can.
I drove to the shop, which is just off the square in Burnsville, left the paint can, got into my car, and started home, going around the square. When my eyes saw the mountain "knob" to the north, that's when my brain told me that everything was wrong. CRACK! Like in 'KRAKATOA!'
I shot out a Tinyletter about it, as it was unusual, but for two weeks, I wasn't really sure who I was, where I was, or what was real. I'd have to stop and think about how to get somewhere I'd been frequently for many years.
A year later, time and location still slip around on me. I ask Jim probably more than once a day what day it is, or ask him or Ronni if I had already asked them this or that question. They both are patient and understanding, thankfully.
I've decided I need some things to do, so have volunteered here and there. The big Craft Fair is this weekend,so I'm on for helping the NuWray Hotel's guests make sure they have nearby parking, and working a few hours at the Dem HQ later in the day. I'm the Tuesday morning Chamber volunteer as well. This will help me regain some sense of purpose.
I hope you also have found your purpose - outside of the day-by-day routines, naturally.
xox
Lucy