Aprils A-to-the-Zizzle: J

J is for Jess.

Let's be honest, most of us who blog think we have something interesting to say, which means we think we're interesting people.  Some of us are mistaken, but hey, we can't all be winners.  As such, I figured what better way to prove how interesting I am than by dedicating an entire post to the awesomeness that is me?  (Humor me, guys.  I need the confidence boost.)

So, for the post ALL ABOUT ME, I decided to share with you guys some of the things that make me, well, me.

Louisiana

Ah, the southern state in all of its country, backward, deep-fried glory.  Born and raised here, I have spent many a day swimming in the creek, sucking the heads of crawfish (because that really is where the good stuff is) and parading down Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras (and yes, it's a ridiculous celebration, but we just can't seem to grow out of it).

As a teen I swore that someday I'd get the flock out of dodge and see the world.  Get away from the rednecks and their pickup trucks and rebel flags.  I was so serious about moving away that anytime a relationship got to the point where the guy started talking about the future I was like, "Later."  I wasn't planting any roots, no sir.  So what happened? I turned 19 and moved to Tennessee.  Because it's SO different from Louisiana.  Ha ha ha.  Truth:  the only differences between Louisiana and Tennessee are that the food is more bland, cars are MUCH worse and people say you'ins instead of y'all.  Oh, and Tennessee has hillbillies while Louisiana has rednecks (I have no idea what the difference there is).

Seriously though, I love Tennessee.  It's one of the most beautiful places in North America that I've seen. I lived there for a year, and I never got tired of the view. I did get tired of snow and ice on the roads.  Daredevil, I am not.  Plus my Dad lives there with my stepmom and my two baby half-sisters, so I enjoyed spending some actual time with them instead of a measly two weeks in the summer and week at Christmas. I made some great friends and gained some experience, but about seven months in I realized that - gasp! - I missed Louisiana.  What?! What was wrong with me?  I couldn't figure it out, but I couldn't deny it.  The 'ol bayou was calling me home.

The older I get, the more I appreciate my home state, and I notice more things now that are beautiful and unique about Louisiana.  The trees, for example.  Louisiana has some of the most whimsical, beautiful old trees. We all know the food is better here.  Basically I could talk about Louisiana and how great it is all day, but eventually you'd get bored.  If you just crave more, check out a previous post about Louisiana and the myths surrounding it here.

Family

Mine is big, loud, obnoxious and full of some of the most crazy and fun people I know. My mother's side of the family is the side I've spent the most time with in my life.  My grandmother was one of 13 (thirteen!!) children of a poor preacher/sharecropper and a full-blooded Seminole Indian.  They had an outhouse and almost never had meat to eat and spent a LOT of time at church. My grandfather is one of 5 children, and although my great-grandmother is still living at 95, I have no idea what she or my great-grandfather did for a living.  I do know great-grandpa collected tennis balls and sent them to children in Honduras.  His entire legacy is tennis balls.

My family on my father's side spends a great deal less time together.  My dad has three brothers, one of which lives in Tennessee near my dad, one in Oklahoma and the other in Maryland.  My uncles are great, and I wish I could see them more often.  (Long-distance family is one reason I'm thankful for Facebook. Otherwise I'd never get to talk to them.  For real. Like, ever.) My dad's parents passed away in 1996 and 1998.  They had a doll shop and made porcelain dolls.  It was the coolest place, and my grandparents would take me with them to the shop and teach me how to use the kiln, how to paint the faces and dress them.  I always considered myself their favorite grandchild, and I suspect I was right because they called me Miss Priss, and the doll shop was called Miss Priss.  My dad and uncles gave me the stained glass shop sign after my grandfather passed away.  It is one of my most treasured possessions.

Altogether (counting step-family, because they're awesome and I consider them real family), I have eight uncles, eight aunts, twenty-one first cousins, seven second cousins, two brothers, four sisters, my mom, my dad, my stepmom, four grandparents, and one great-grandmother.  Whew.

Then you have MY family; that is, my husband, me and our two daughters.  I blogged about them the other day, so you know they are my whole world.  Hubs is my Prince Charming, my rock, my supporter, my sexy stud muffin   He's also a wonderful father.    My kids are hysterical, frustrating, sweet, beautiful, precious little  fascinating people.  Their personalities are so completely different, but they're best friends and are so much fun.  It's such a joy watching them grow and start to figure out who they are, what they like and don't like, what their interests are.  I love every moment of it.

Faith

Like I said, my great-grandfather was a preacher, and my family has always been very involved in church activities.  As a child I probably spent more time at church than anywhere else.  Now, as an adult, my faith is extremely important to me, and I am actively involved in my church.  It is also important to me and Hubs that our kids are raised in church and know about faith and God and heaven.

My oldest child, at 5, is super-curious about where exactly Heaven is, and why do people go there, and what do they do there, and on and on and on.  It started when my stepfather passed away in 2011.  It was very sudden and she had a difficult time with it.  She was Papa's girl, so when one day he was there and the next day he wasn't, she felt very frustrated and confused and sad.  She reminds us frequently that Papa was sick and Jesus made him better, which makes her happy.  That happiness helps the rest of us to deal with it.

Each person is entitled to their own personal beliefs, and I would never force my opinions on anyone else.  If you want to know what I believe, ask me and I'll be more than happy to share it with you.   :)

History

My major.  My hobby.  My future career.  It's all wrapped up in History.   I love it, I can't get enough of it, and I can't shut up about it.  It's like this gigantic collection of stories - romance, war, comedy, mystery, drama - all rolled up into one book called Us.

There were so many fascinating characters throughout History: some leaders of nations, others seemingly insignificant people who contributed to the world in some way or left their words to help us better understand an event.  An everyday Joe who happened to be in the right (or wrong) place at the right (or wrong) time could change the course of history.  A guy who put his 99 arguments against the Catholic Church on the door of the church because nobody was home, forgetting the next day was a national holiday and EVERYBODY would be attending church....(led to the Protestant Reformation, btw.  Just in case you missed that day of class).   A little Jewish girl whose family was hiding from Nazis during WWII and kept a journal of what was happening around her... The son of a candle maker who went to work with his older brother at a printing press and learned to write, only to later be named one of the founding fathers of a nation...

Each example of one person who made a contribution to our world's history is a story, and each story is available to us to study, to learn and appreciate.  My hope is to share that love and excitement, so that others will develop an affection as well.

So, Louisiana, Family, Faith and History - four things that play a major role in who I am.  Of course there's a great deal more to me (my love for comedies, Aerosmith and vanilla oreos, for example), but you guys don't have time for that.  Neither do I, for that matter.  You'll just have to settle for a sneak peek of Jess.  For now....

Historical Day: Cades Cove

Hey, y'all!  Hope your weeks have all been fantabulous.  My brain is on reserve at the moment, since I just finished (yay) a huge Geography paper due Monday.  Since I'm in school mode, I decided to share with y'all the paper I wrote earlier this semester on my most favorite place in the whole world:  Cades Cove.  It's located in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, Gatlinburg, Tennessee.  Not to brag (but totally to brag), I made an A++ on this paper.  Yeah, I did.  So anyhoo, since today is usually Fantabulous Friday, and I think Cades Cove is fantabulous, here's y'all a little piece of history:

Located in what is now the Great Smoky Mountain National Park in northeastern Tennessee, Cades Cove is a glimpse into the lives of a community of yesteryear.  Having spent half of my life living in Tennessee, my family took many trips to the cove.  As a child the wildlife was what attracted me the most:  black bears, deer and various other animals that roam the park.  The animals were what drew Native Americans, then later European frontiersmen to settle in this valley tucked safely between the “Smoky Mountains” which create a beautifully wooded view from all directions.  

There isn’t much cultural evidence of the Cherokee Indians’ time spent in the cove, but there is an abundance of evidence from the settlers who came later.  The Indians chose the cove for the bountiful wildlife easily hunted within the valley.  The settlers, who first began moving into the cove in the early 1820s, preferred the cove for many reasons, two of which were the protection offered by the surrounding mountains and the fertile soil of the valley floor. 

Since the land was excellent for farming, the settlers were able to grow multiple crops that could supplement them throughout the entire year.  A few of the barns and storehouses used for farming are still standing. 

As more people moved into the area, homes were built across the valley.  These buildings were small homes, with tiny rooms for sleeping and slightly larger rooms for cooking and eating.  Every home needed a fireplace to warm the people during frigid winters that often brought snowstorms. The settlers created their own road so they could visit one another easily.  The road used now to tour the cove is the same road created by the early settlers.  Eventually two churches were built as well, one Baptist and one Methodist.  The Baptist church later feuded and split, resulting in the building of a second Baptist Church.  

As more people settled in the cove, businesses were built to meet the needs.  Because the nearest town was an entire day’s trip away on horse, Cades Cove became a self-sustaining community.  A general store was built, along with a blacksmith shop, smokehouses and even a boarding house for travelers.

The people of Cades Cove depended greatly upon two crops: corn and chestnuts.  The corn was used to feed the livestock and could be used in various ways as food for the people (cornmeal, grits, cornbread, hominy).   The residents of the cove would take chestnuts into nearby Maryville to sell or trade for other goods, food or medicines.

Once knowledge of water as a power source spread to the cove, a man named John P. Cable, using the water from Mill Creek, created a functioning mill for grains.  Other residents followed suit and eventually Cades Cove had several water-run mills, some for grains (to be turned into flour) and others for molasses.  These advances gave the residents more options for trading, and helped the community to thrive.   A post office was also built later as the rest of the United States began to grow and spread out.

Thanks to the flourishing crops and mills, population nearly exploded in the early years of the community.  In less than fifty years there were an estimated 700 people residing within Cades Cove.  Families were raising children, who would reach their teen years, marry and start their own families.  Children were taught in the small churches by the pastors or at home by educated parents (although most of the adults who originally settled in the cove weren’t very well-educated).  However, the majority of “education” taught to the children was the ins and outs of maintaining the farm (for the boys) and home (for the girls).

Eventually the great Western movement known as “Manifest Destiny” caught wind and many young families moved out of Cades Cove in search of a better life.  A few families remained in the cove, the last of which did not leave until well after the cove was included into the National Park.

Face Punch

Hey, y'all.  It's HUMP DAY, and I'm super-thrilled about it because after today I'm on Fall Break until next Monday from school.  Awesomeness. 

For my Face Punch topic today, I've picked something that is just completely appalling to me.  I was so disgusted and disappointed when I heard this story on Kidd Kraddick's show Monday morning.  I found the story that I knew would show up on MSNBC, which only made me more angry.

Here's the deal:

A Tennessee home caught fire after a man's grandson lost control of a fire he had going in the backyard.  The local firefighters were called, and they came to the scene but REFUSED TO PUT THE FIRE OUT. 

Why?

Because the man had failed to pay a $75 "fire coverage" fee. 

Are you kidding me? 

At first they wouldn't even respond to the 911 call, but then they realized the man's neighbors had paid their fees - of course they had to be on hand in case the fire spread to the covered residents. 

The man begged firefighters to put the flames out, telling them he'd pay whatever he had to, but they refused.  His home burned to the ground, and they lost three dogs and a cat. 

The state of Tennessee should be outraged at the county's poor handling of such a devastating situation.  I'd fire every single one of those firefighters, and the idiots in charge of the whole thing.  THEN I'd use state money to rebuild the damaged home. 

You, Obion County fire people, get a gargantuan face punch:

Have no fear, The Viper is here!

Forget Gotham and Metropolis. Columbia, Tennessee is apparently where all supervillians have relocated. Much to their dismay, however, there's a new caped crusader in town. His name is The Viper. (You think I'm kidding, but I'm completely serious.)



Last week two Columbia police officers were having just another average day protecting the peace when they happened upon a young man in tights, donning under armor, two plastic sticks and a utility belt complete with screwdriver and cell phone - you know, in case he encountered actual crime and needed to call 911. Our hero also had stashed in his vipermobile - er, I mean car - ninja throwing stars.

Upon investigation, the officers learned that our hero is actually a 20-year old chemistry student with a tragic lack of social life. Add that to an affection for tights, and you've got yourself a crime-fighting alter-ego. I guess it would be concerning to have a chemist with questionable mental stability running amuck late at night through town, but seeing as how it's Columbia and not New York City, I'm guessing the local PD are just getting a good laugh out of the ordeal.

When interviewed by news reporters, the aspiring superhero said, "I'm just trying to do what's right, in tights." Well, residents of Columbia, now you can sleep peacefully at night knowing that wherever evil may be lurking, The Viper will find it, and he will destroy it. That or throw sticks at it before calling police.


The Viper Story