Crickhollow in the snow...

Being that I hate cold weather now I simply opened the front door and then the back door and snapped a few pictures. It's February the twelfth. It snowed. It's Georgia. This isn't pleasant. Even the kids had no interest in getting out in this mess.

This week has seen the anniversary of the second year since my father died. The old saying that time heals all wounds is simply a damn lie. I have a sneaky feeling that's why I look upon the snow and cold weather with such disdain. Every year when there was any threat of icy precipitation his calls of, "I hope it snows asshole deep to a camel!" would reverberate throughout the house.

Indeed... the sound of his voice shall haunt me forever.

2010 is really turning out to be a banner year thus far. A time of endings and new beginnings that have fallen faster than I was prepared for and have left me reeling, wondering what other shoe may drop. As the sky darkens and I watch the snowflakes drift down to settle unwanted on tree branches and wood waiting to be carved I can't help but be taken back to a summer just a few short years ago sitting on the patio late at night with my father.

We were having a discussion about his life. He was a happy man, content for the most part. He told me about the things he wished he had done and a few actions that he would love to retract. I asked him for some life advice when he had gotten quiet and his words, like his smile, will live with me forever, "Chase as many women as you can, even if you don't want to catch them, buy all the property you can get your hands on, and don't take any shit from anybody."

The chasing women part I'm not interested in, the only woman I ever really chased I caught and married eighteen years ago. At times I really feel like I have failed the man. He was a talented individual that did well with whatever was put on his plate. I saw him take some punches here and there and he always landed on his feet with a sly grin. He lived long enough to see the people that did him wrong get ripped to pieces by the karma monster, yet he took no pleasure in it. I once asked him what he thought about the man that pushed him away from a career of over forty years getting arrested for stealing from a new employer. He said, "Poor man, just could never be satisfied with anything he had.. greed.. its brought down many a man, and turned many hearts to stone..." That was my father. A much better man than me...

I just left this keyboard to walk out onto the porch and watch the snow fall in the dark. As always, the overwhelming thing that confronts me during a snowfall is the silence. The wind blowing through the trees laden with snow is the only sound that could be heard. I looked over toward my mothers house through the woods and saw the lights on downstairs by the fireplace. I thought of my mother sitting there by the fire and what this week has surely meant to her. To lose someone you spent fifty four years with.. I just could not imagine...

When we moved out here in 1975 or 76 my father decided to call this place 'The Lost Forest'. Why? Who knows... But that is what he wanted... As I stood there I thought about all of the things this little area has seen down through the years. Good times and bad.. Everything from drunken brawls and all night parties to marriages, births, deaths, laughter, tears... Life. The storm and tempest of what comes and what goes. When I think on these things I always listen carefully, I almost feel as if I could hear something from the past lives that left sweat and blood on this land. Slaves working it when it was a plantation, hunting parties of Creek Indians moving through the trees, Confederate troops moving through it cut off Union soldiers, my grandparents walking the property line decades ago, and generations of my own blood standing in the same spot I now stand in, looking out into the silent darkness, perhaps thinking the same things...

On this night all I could think of was the voice of my father telling me to lighten up and "Get on with the business of livin' boy.. you worry too damn much"

He would've loved this snow. Were he here, I would be proud to drive him around in it on the kawasaki mule. I can hear him now, "Boy it don't matter if there ain't no road over there, go through those trees, I want to see what it looks like up there covered in this snow.. besides, we got legs.. we can walk if the mule gets stuck..."

Come to think of it... the snow really ain't all that bad... I think I might just go for a ride...

Carving Out a Holiday Season

This year the lead up to Christmas has been a busy one indeed. Various orders have been filled and several more are sitting in different stages of completion. All in all they are getting done and await pick up or delivery.

The machinations of poplar, cedar, and oak have taken a back seat at times when other things have popped up to stand in front me, banging a drum to get my attention. Some are enjoyable, some are pain in the ass.. but.. such is life. I have always been a fan of The Nutcracker and was shuffled off in that direction this evening by Hugh Bigney's performance as Drosselmeier, click the link for the full movie, its my favorite version. The opening scene encompasses the mindset that people who create things this time of year for peoples gifts find themselves in. Late into the night, completely engrossed in what you are doing, mind going light speed, several steps ahead of where you actually are. You find the sounds of your home, the tools, the radio and television all give way to and are drowned out by the running soundtrack in your mind. At times this soundtrack is your own voice and at others in consists of nothing more than music. The magic that surrounds you and grows from your soul in knowing that you are creating a three dimensional work that could be held by the people that are receiving it for longer than you will be around is quite an overwhelming thought. It's the magic that keeps you going when the hands of exhaustion are pulling you down into the abyss of sleep and loss of time becomes your greatest fear.


I decided early on that this year I would limit my "seasonally themed" work to nothing more than Santa ornaments. I initially wanted to limit the number of special orders as well, but when people call... you make what they want to the best of your abilities. The things you desire to make take a back seat and customer orders move to the front of the line.

When I got the order for the palm tree walking stick I found Jimmy Buffet running through my mind singing One Particular Harbor over and over as the knife sang through the hardened cedar (and a few fingers).

The poplar stick has the submarine warfare division emblem on it and took me through several hours of having various world war two novels and movies rambling around in my head as I carved. Alvin York never served on a sub.. but I constantly quoted the movie as I worked... "Come on Alvin.. Take a look at there big old woman..." was a scene that kept running through my head...

The wands I have made over the past few days and this one I just started have created visions running the course from The Lord of The Rings as Gandalf fought the Balrog to the final fight scene from Harry Potter and the order of the phoenix when Dumbledore takes on Voldemorte. Yes I know.. Gandalf didn't use a wand...

I am currently working on two swords that will be given away on Christmas day, pictured here at the beginning of the process.. When work is underway on weapons.. well.. there is no limit to the madness that runs around in your mind.. Scenes from various books, movies, songs, and visions from childhood all find their way into my mind.

With all the work piling up demanding untold hours I haven't really been able to find time to get the things that need to be done accomplished.. I still have to shop, get the car serviced, see to this and that, etc. etc... we all know how this is. Then you add the extra flavor of missing those that have gone on, particularly my dad. This was his favorite time of the year and again, as last year, we honored his request and thought of him as we turned on the Christmas tree lights, giving him a moment of silence and thought as the little tree we have blazed to life. Julie and I both smiled and laughed as James just kept piling the ornaments onto the tree well after we told him it had enough.. He is truly my fathers grandson and loves Christmas. I have a feeling he shall inherit my dads ability to make his home look like big lots during the holiday season.. He didn't care how old, big, broken or how many missing pieces there were with anything.. if it was in the box, it got put on the tree... Even all the Harry Potter figures are holding places of honor around the base of the tree, with about every stuffed animal he has ever owned.. He did all this with the same "shit eating" grin my dad always wore when he decorated for Christmas.. so even though we said to him, "That's enough stuff James.." over and over we simply let him go on with his work.. it was almost like being able to see my dad as a kid and it filled me with a warmth not felt in quite a while.

I'm looking forward to a late night shopping trip this week being capped off with a visit to Fuzziwigs to get everyone large amounts of chocolate to stuff stockings, and to having this wood carving soundtrack replaced with some Christmas specials and laughter from siblings and my kids (if I don't kill them first.. either group)... But then I know the wood carving will call me again later and I shall find my mind filled with sights and sounds of things I have seen and experienced as the power of creation makes me grin...

Silas has his first birthday

Father's Day

Midnight rolled around and I thought about my Dad. Jeff Todd had placed a status update on facebook a while back that spoke of the fun he had simply riding around town with his kids and stopping at Dairy Queen for an ice cream. I commented on his status that instead of material objects, those moments were the ones that his kids would remember when they were older... That thought is what led me here tonight.

Reaching back through the memories of my Dad is always a pleasant and frightening thing to do. The first photo is him about the same age that I am right now... Skip forward many years and here I am near the same place, the same age he is in his photo..

We spent many hours riding around with him in this town and he always a had a way of making each time like a new adventure... The night we saw Smokey and the Bandit for the first time.. Listening to his absolutely perfect impression of sheriff Buford T. Justice as he talked on his CB radio in the car to someone he found that was calling himself the bandit will never leave me.. "Honey go get me a banana split" was usually followed by a night time ride to the same Dairy Queen Jeff probably took his kids to... Whenever a tornado came through anywhere near here.. rest assured we would drive around in the truck and look for damage...

Through the gentle persuasions of my mother, my father was the kind of person that got things done. At the age I am now, he had five kids, was building a nice home for them all, and never seemed to stop smiling... Now, he had his moments of anger.. or pure ass meanness.. depending on whether or not you were on the receiving end.. Once, when jumping on the trampoline with a friend and my brother, we ripped the canvas along the seam.. He was working in his shop and proceeded to launch a fit of anger and obscenities towards us that would blister raw meat.. Informing us in no uncertain terms that it was either repair the damn thing or die shortly... Fear... fear like we had never known gripped us as we cried that little kid sob and wondered just how in hell we were going to fix this thing... My mother came home and asked us what was wrong and we told her, amid sobs, that we had to fix the trampoline or we were going to die... She assured us that no death would come about from the mishap, so we hid for many hours until it was safe to venture out.. or dinner was ready.. one or the other...

I think the angriest I had ever seen him was the day my brother and I got off the school bus and made our way to the front door. I had a key, we were the first ones home each day and were expected get inside and set about cleaning the place as soon as we walked in.. well... after we ate our weight in red links and cereal, and anything else we could find.. and spent a while honing our minds on such things as Gilligan's island and space giants... Well that particular day he had come home from work early and we failed to notice his car in the driveway... As I was trying to get the key to turn in the lock, my Dad was trying to unlock the door to let us in from the other side... So I was cussing up a storm because the thing wouldn't move and my brother was dancing about the place bitching about having to go to the bathroom. So I let lose with a resounding, "Just shut the F up you GD MF'er..." Just as Dad opened the door...

What followed was a scene straight from what I had imagined Armageddon would be like.. complete with whirling arms, smacking ass, and phrases like, "Where's my gun!?" and "You ain't gonna be able to sit down for a week boy!" If memory serves.. I don't think I did sit down for a week after that one... between the pain and the subsequent exhaustion of the stint of complete slavery that followed I learned the lesson every twelve year old is bound to cross over once in a while.. Save the cussing for the school bus..

There was the summer from hell we spent when he decided that the dirt road out back had gotten too grown up and "By God, it needed to be cleared.." So, it seemed to us, he took all of his vacation for the job... He would start out by fetching us from the bed as soon as the sun rose and cranking up his chain saw.. Our job was to simply walk behind him and pick up the trees and limbs he cut down... Holy shit that was hard work... When he had taken all of his vacation he would get home and rip down through the woods with that damnable saw creating piles of debris that were not to be believed... leaving us with specific instructions as to where and how it all was to be moved.. "It better be done when I get home!" became the call sign for that summer.. You couldn't procrastinate on that little project either.. he would slip in unannounced at all hours during the day and lord help you if you were caught in the house...

Without a doubt the worst all out beating I ever got.. the term spanking just comes nowhere near this one... Happened with the "firewood" incident..

When we had done wrong, and went into it knowing that we were doing wrong, we got a spanking.. We knew we would, but we were just plain stupid and did it anyway... What we would hear first was "Go cut me a switch.." Now we knew what this meant.. Go to the edge of the yard and cut down a stick to be used to spank us with from one of several, I believe, "strategically" planted bushes.. Now being the little fat smart ass kid that I was... On this one occasion I came back with a tiny little switch.. "That's too little... go cut me a good switch!" The second time I returned I had fared no better and was told that I had better get it right on this trip... The smart ass moved in and I lost all sense of survival that I had and did the unthinkable.. I went over to the woodpile and returned with a pine log cut for the fireplace.... "Is this big enough?!?"

It was....

I have written about my dad here many times, and now, like all the others, I sit here late at night at this computer laughing and crying quietly to myself thinking back about all the things that flood through my mind when I call him up to sit next to me.. He was a good man... Hard, yet fair. He was quick of wit, humor, anger, and love. One hell of a good guy. He worked his entire life for his family, wanting simply for all of us to be happy... I think of the phrases that he would use when James is being a pain in the ass and Patrick gives out the fifteen year old attitude.. and I smile after I get on to them when I find myself using the same lines...

I think that I will get them out of bed early this morning, get the Kawasaki mule loaded up with clippers, gloves and various implements of destruction and go check for any debris, vines or trees that may need cutting and clearing on that same dirt road back there.. Just to enjoy the looks of horror that cross their faces.... and top it off with a moon pie and an ice cold Rc cola...

Happy Father's Day Dad.. I love you...

Lord have mercy.... 16 hours at Stone Mountain...

the day began at a pavilion rented by loudon communications, we were invited to come along... many thanks to them for this treat, we had a good meal right on the lake as the boats went by...

this was the view of the mountain from the pavilion..

waiting for the skylift to the top of the mountain

view from the skylift looking down, some 1600 feet...

patrick, julie & james on top of the mountain..

atlanta as seen from the top of the mountain

james loved climbing on everything

atlanta in the background

trees grow in just a few inches of patchy soil

geographical summit of the mountain

waiting on the skylift for the trip down

they hold lots of people

starting the trip down

its a long ass way down...

carving from the skylift

the carving is the exact size of a football field

people waiting in line for the trip up

view of the carving from "memorial mall"

patrick, julie & james on the mall

locust blending well with the granite

dr.'s cabin on the plantation

one of the slave cabins

inside the slave cabin

the courtyard of the "farm"

herb/vegetable garden

kitchen house

magnolia tree

mother in law suite in the main house

love the brick floors

school house on the plantation

james loved the old buildings

a bit hot, very humid - but beautiful..

james wanted to climb everything everywhere...

in the new portion of the park, very "six flags" like

me, patrick & james

james loves catfish...

another view of the carving

the train is coming!

about to pull out

awaiting the begining of the laser show, we were treated to special seating.. the first time i've ever had reserved seats for this & got to sit in a comfy chair instead of on the ground..

the view behind us

This video is of the ending of the laser show, we rode the "ducks"(land & water vehicles) around on the lake & through the park, saw the 4D movie(you get wet), rode the train, ate a good meal or two, visited the plantation & petting zoo, rode the skylift to the top of the mountain, saw the "treetop adventure", saw the grist mill, the quarry, the marina, the put-put golf, many many shops & artisans... it was a long day indeed.. but we had lots of fun...