11/27/10

Cowboy Curtains

                                                

I could feel tears in my eyes before I opened them this morning, so I kept them closed...

It was an early morning in December, my favorite season- so I wondered why I woke up teary eyed-

Although, I did recognize a warm feeling...It had a conflicting ring to it, one you never forget; because you feel great, yet confused about how to identify your emotions.

I wanted to keep my eyes closed and think of the cowboy curtains on my grandmothers drapes, the smell of honeysuckle vines in her yard, her dusty back porch, the clothesline, and the talkative morning birds.



I remember waking up at my grandmothers house long ago...It was a time when I awoke to the smell of bacon frying, homemade grape jam on toast, and loud birds chirping outside the window; I was curious about their conversation as they picked their way through the morning dew...

I imagined what they were gossiping about...but, they chirped so fast, that even if I could understand their language, their conversation would be impossible to follow.

I laughed to myself, thinking about how children think, and was careful not to open my eyes as my mind wandered back into yesterday. I remembered my grandmother laughing at my son's Golden Retriever, Wendy, as she raced squirrels from limb to limb on her old Oak tree, encircling the tree's trunk, and jumping toward the sky hoping a squirrel would lose their balance and fall. I started to laugh again, but suppressed it...


Because, I still wasn't ready to open my eyes...

I wished I was a child again and squeezed my eyes together tight, that way I could stay in the moment a while longer, although I knew I had to open them sometime.

As a matter of fact, I knew that "sometime" was around the corner, because I had to wipe the tears that were slid down my cheeks, before they drew lines on my face- Why was I crying?- It was a surprise I decided to brush off and rationalize as tired, confused, lost, or "just one of those days."


I lay in bed feeling as if I were awaiting an unwelcome visitor- Nevertheless, I told myself I was strong and thought of good things until I felt better.

After all, it was an early morning in December, my favorite season-
So I shrugged off the feeling and decided to focus on secure moments and new beginnings before I opened my eyes.

I have always projected myself into the future during the fall season and on Sundays-

For example, on Sunday I think of Monday, and during the spring months, I remember long hot summers.

Only, on this day of winter, I didn't think of the summer, instead my mind raced back to the cowboy curtains slightly swinging in my uncle’s boyhood room at my grandmother’s house. I could still smell the fresh fragrance of linen clinging to the clothesline on a breezy spring afternoon.

It felt good to think about the smells and sounds rich in my Southern environment- and the lasting impression my grandmothers five hundred year old Oak left upon the recesses of my soul.

The agricultural climate in the south blends into your senses and becomes a part of who you are, and what you will remember for a lifetime.


Sometimes, I draw upon my heritage for comfort when I’m having trouble with life's harsh realities.- I’m grateful I can still smell honeysuckle vines and hear crickets' sing at night.-

The sound of crickets are entrenched in my mind, chirping in a rhythm I miss when I'm away...

I remember crickets singing when I opened the window in my uncle’s room before going to sleep at night- and watching the moonlight shine on the cowboys shadows as the drapes floated on the breeze away from the window.

It seemed as if the moonlight showed up to shine light on the story of these cowboys and their horses. The cowboy drawings looked alive as the wind wiggled the drapes back and forth in the moonlight- it was like watching a private rodeo-

A glimpse inside the life of horses and cowboys who share the heart and spirit necessary to win any race, cross any countryside, and rope any calf, that gives me courage- these imaginary cowboy's horses kicked dirt toward the sky until the end of every day- and so will I...

I will let my minds eye watch horse and rider gallop to the rhythms of life inside the breezy drapes of long ago.

Because, after all, I recognize this feeling...I've felt it before- this is not my first wagon ride, remember?

I will worry with the details tomorrow...I haven't the time today- time is too precious...

Cowboy curtains, honeysuckle vines, my grandparents, my golden retriever...a long cool drink of water... tall clover...and you-

This is what I will dream about until I open my eyes and begin a new day-

12 comments:

Sandee said...

It's just as beautiful the second time around as it was the first time around.

Have a terrific day. Big hug Annie. :)

Shinade said...

I have tears in my eyes. I am a southern girl too and as I was reading I could smell the honeysuckle vines.

I do think growing up in the south, at least when we were growing up, does leave certain imprints that only true southerners can feel, way down deep in their heart.

Annie this is wonderful. It brought back so many memories for me too.

Memories of my mother and how she would fan me on those long hot nights. I look back now and realize how very tired her arm must have gotten. But, she fanned away until I fell asleep.

Thank you for sharing this. Now I am the one wiping away the tears.

Big big hugs Annie!!
Jackie:-)

Shinade said...

Well after reading this the song stuck in my head is Southern Nights by Glen Campbell!!:-)

"Annie" said...

Oh Sandee, Thank you.

And thank you for reading it again...I'm trying to get a manuscript ready to send back to a publisher for a rewrite! I'm so excited that I can barely move my fingers.

Therefore, I decided to give myself some extra time by republishing an older post-

I'm going to post something new tomorrow, I promise.

You have a terrific day and evening too.

And big hug back to you~

By the way, I loved your answer to Tuesday's Question. :))

Annie

"Annie" said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
"Annie" said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
"Annie" said...

Shinade,

It touches me that this post moved you so, and that it reminded you of your mother. And that you could smell honeysuckle vines.

That's what it's all about. It is really nice of you to point out in detail what you liked about it.

The first time I posted this post, Sandee also said it reminded her of her mother.

I loved this paragraph,

"Memories of my mother and how she would fan me on those long hot nights. I look back now and realize how very tired her arm must have gotten. But, she fanned away until I fell asleep."

I bet her arm did get tired...

Have a great evening Jackie,(I cannot decide whether to call you Shinade or Jackie. ) I like them both~

Now, I'm going to Publish 'Southern Nights' by Glen Campbell.


Thanks again for such a kind comment~

Annie

Lauren said...

It's funny. I've been thinking about my grandmother and grandfather a lot lately. But I could not put the emotion into words as eloquently as you have. What a lovely tribute to your grandmother and the warmth she instilled in you. I could almost hear the sounds and smell the scents of the morning that brought you happiness such a long time ago.

Thank you for sharing. How close are you to completing the rewrite?

dawn said...

I loved it the first time and I love it still :)

"Annie" said...

Lauren,

My grandmother would be thrilled to read what you wrote, and I cannot begin to articulate what it means to me. Thank you is simply not enough, but thank you~:))

I'm glad that you could smell and hear the life in her home so long ago.

Being a writer yourself, you know how important it was for me to re-create a world the reader could step into;- a life inside of cowboy curtains, where horses and and cowboys lived, and are now carried on the silent winds of yesterday-

Thank you for your kind and supportive comment. I will think of it every time I am down.

It is funny that you were just thinking of your grandparents. Sometimes, I don't believe in coincidences. <That doesn't look like it's spelled correctly, oh well.

Anyway, to answer your question about my rewrite...I'm pretty close...I'm going to let it "sit" awhile, then I'm shipping it back.

Thank you for asking...I'm also searching for an agent, so I know I have long breaks at times from blogging, but I'll catch up~

You know what I mean.

"Till the next time we say good-bye-" Mick Jagger

And Me...:)

"Annie" said...

Dawn, Thanks buddy~

And...the same thing I said to Lauren, mostly, I will think of what you and all of you have said every time I'm down, or feeling dejected...(Smile)

I love friendship, especially when you have great friends~ :)

Luvs Ya,

Annie

lock smith sydney nsw said...

This is a great post. thanks for sharing. I'll bookmark your site and share it to my friends.

Today's Popular Children's Picture Books

Today's Popular Children's Picture Books
Click on the titles below for the link to Publishers Weekly.com

Upcoming Book Review

Upcoming Book Review
My First Book Of Hockey!

Motherhood- Courage


Motherhood is an art impossible to explain, one which requires a vast sea of love, devotion, compassion, and understanding, unmatched by any affection we will ever know again.- Ann Clemmons

Courage-

Courage



Humor-

Humor


Words-

Words are the core of our souls, without written, vocal or lyrical expression we lose sight of one another or worse, ourselves. Words bring forth the essence of the human spirit; so express yourself without abandon.

Ann Clemmons

Written Phrase

Why is it that those we should know or believe turn out to be the ones we least understand? I suppose the world is an illusion until we find our way home.-Ann Clemmons

Favorite Phrase

I remember I used to half believe and wholly play with fairies when I was a child. What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense...

Beatrix Potter’s Journal, 17 November 1896, from the National Trust collection.

Jacket Flap-

Powered by JacketFlap.com
The Storyteller, by Dawn Drover

Alone in her world
of make believe
weaving her stories
of magic and light

She brings joy
to the eyes
of innocent minds
less jaded and free

For only they know
what's in her heart
holding the secrets
she guards so well

Life's hidden mysteries
belong to those
whose wisdom and truth
shine on in imagination


Written for Ann
~Dawn Drover~

Of The Horoscope Junkie




Let"s talk!

Let"s talk!

Subscribe Today

Subscribe Today
Feed Powered by Feedburner

Catch your dreams

Catch your dreams

Imagine

Imagine
Most of the worlds' great things were born of adversity and hardship; because these roadblocks encourage us to dream, imagine and believe.- Ann Clemmons

Favorite quotes-

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.

Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”'


F. Scott Fitzgerald. (Lines from The Great Gatsby)
"A Southerner Talks Music"

Mark Twain

"A book must be the ax for the frozen sea inside us."

Franz Kafka

An author values a compliment even when it comes from a source of doubtful competency.

- Mark Twain in Eruption

"I like a good story well told. That is the reason I am sometimes forced to tell them myself"

Mark Twain

Animal Rescue Site

The Animal Rescue Site

Friendship