I love little baby ducks, old pick-up trucks, slow-moving trains, and rain. I love little country streams, sleep without dreams, Sunday school in May, and hay. And I love you, too.
I love leaves in the wind, pictures of my friends, birds in the world, and squirrels. I love coffee in a cup, little fuzzy pups, bourbon in a glass, and grass. And I love you, too.
I love honest open smiles, kisses from a child, tomatoes on a vine, and onions. I love winners when they cry, losers when they try, music when it’s good, and life. And I love you too.
“I Love” by Tom T. Hall is one of my favorite songs from my childhood. How excited I would get when my daddy would pick his guitar and sing that song–a song which brings me comfort and keeps me rooted firmly.
As a child, I was surrounded by the greatest storytellers and artisans. They had no idea their stories would inspire generations to come. They had no idea they were artisans. No, they were humble folks who created for the love of working with their hands. Sure, the masterpieces were often made out of necessity like the flour sack dresses and quilts. Oh, how wonderful are the bread bowls, baskets, and furniture they made! Oh, how wonderful that so many of these things have survived to narrate the stories of their creators.
I have watched my dad build incredible, gorgeous pieces of furniture he never saw as good enough. If you were to compliment him, he would simply ignore the gesture by changing the subject–usually with a random tale from his past or the latest news from Cousin Benny. I have watched my mom make dresses fit for a princess, design cakes to match our birthday party napkins (way before Cake Boss), and prepare Sunday school lessons with the dedication and passion of a TV evangelist. If you were to compliment her, she would humbly give all the glory to God.
Oh, yes, I can still see Granddaddy Fulcher relaxing on the porch swing, smoking his pipe, and talking to Uncle Mackie about this and that. I can still hear Uncle Mackie relaying adventures from Mexico. And, if I close my eyes tight enough, I can still feel the warmth of the peso he placed in my hand. God rest their precious souls.
My Southern roots have shaped me, inspired me, and set a fire in my soul to share, and that is why I created Sweet Sorghum Living. It is a way to honor my roots and to share the artistry and creativity that is in my blood, my heart, and soul. Thanks so much for sitting a spell with me today, and I invite you to join me on all of my random blogging adventures. You can follow me on WordPress, sign up to get each post via email (see the box in the right column), and follow me on social media: Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Pinterest.