But I was beginning to think I might have to eat my words until I was headed to bed yesterday evening and passed an open window....and there it was, the unmistakably sweet smell of fresh fallen rain!
It wasn't much...just enough to dampen the ground, but it was rain nonetheless. Now I know we are supposed to be humble, but I couldn't help but do a little victory "dance" and informed City Boy that when some old timers from the hills, like my mom and dad, give you advice about predicting weather it sure pays to listen! City Boy's response was, "You're cute." Not sure how sincere he was about my looks in that moment though. Teehee! May have been similar to one of my great grandpappy's sayings... He was another old timer from the hills of East Kentucky and was known to jokingly say, "She was pretty twiced. Pretty ugly, and pretty apt to stay that way!"
All this talk of rain crows and rain has got me to thinking about water from another source...my beloved grandparents' old water well.
I have some awfully vivid childhood memories of that old well on my mamaw and papaw's Eastern Kentucky farm.
The well is just a few feet from the house, so when we took trips back to Kentucky, I was always running around it when playing in mamaw and papaw's yard. Its thick block walls created the perfect spot for hide and seek games played on hot summer days with siblings and cousins.
We were always told to be careful around the well...but that never stopped us from peering down into its rough, rock lined depths. Sometimes the water was high, and sometimes low--but the sides always had tiny little water seeking plants scattered about the stacked rock interior. To a child, the well seemed like something fresh from a fairy tale, straight from another time and place.
|My drawing of Mamaw & Papaw's old well|
You might think I'm going to wax and wane about how good that well water tasted...but that's just simply not the case! It had a powerful flavor...somewhat of a cross between metal and earth, amped up several notches. If you were really thirsty, it was tolerable. But if you just needed to wet your whistle slightly, it was something you weighed and pondered over quite a bit as a kid...was the resulting quench really worth the effort of getting it down? I eventually adopted the habit of holding my nose as I gulped down a cupful of the stuff.
Even the act of brushing my teeth at Mamaw and Papaw's was a feat of breath holding capabilities. And I think I actually wondered a time or two if I would come out of the bathwater smelling like that old well water!
|Papaw drawing water at the old well (before it was built up with block walls)|
You know they say scent and taste are amazing memory triggers. Oh, I know a cupful of that stuff could never bring my grandparents back. But if I could just get one more taste of that well water I can imagine I would be flooded with warm mountain memories of a little girl, without a care in the world, playing in that most magical of childhood playgrounds...the hills of Appalachia. If I had a cupful today, I don't even believe I'd hold my nose!
Blessings to you and yours! See you all back here soon.