Monday, April 14, 2008
...is where this little rocker came from. It's old and worn and wears the battle scars from a budding carpenter who once applied the teeth of a saw to one of the arms.
We lived in Georgia for ten years when my husband taught at Georgia State University.
One of the things that we loved to do back then, was to go to craft fairs in little out of the way places.
Way up in north Georgia was one of my favorite places...Plum Nelly. According to what I heard, this tiny hamlet was so named because it was "Plum outta Tennessee and nelly outta Georgia."
We bought this rocker for our youngest son. I found a beautiful handwoven egg basket which I still have. It holds some of my yarn and a project or two. Both of these objects are so special to me. They contain the memories of two little boys who filled my life with joy....and at the same time, they are from an era that was one of my most painful, a time that was so difficult; and too, a time and a place where I grew so much and learned to appreciate "me". It was a hard time, but it was a good time for growing and learning. I am grateful for that. Isn't it amazing how small objects can contain such memories and gifts?
Plum Nelly is not too far from Rising Fawn, another name that I absolutely adore. Plum Nelly and Rising Fawn are also close to Gass.
Well, that does put a damper on poetic names of tiny places, doesn't it?