December 3rd, 2021 was a Friday. Deb’s cousin brought his tractor up to what would become our homesite and helped us move trees and debris, residue from the initial round of backhoe work the day before.
When we were done, I borrowed a chainsaw and cut a straight cedar sapling — best I can remember, it stood near where the northwest corner of the cabin is now. With my machete I stripped it down to the trunk, shortened it to about eight feet and stashed it in Deb’s cousin’s garage to dry.
Since then I’ve pulled it out from time to time and fussed with it, shaving bark and such. It made its way from the garage to the loft of our shed, and there it pretty much stayed.
I always knew what I wanted to do with it. I just never made the time to finish what I’d started.
Two weeks ago I picked up a drawknife and got serious, stripping the remaining bark and knocking down some of the gnarlier knots. I sanded the surface, drilled a hole near one end and gave the wood three coats of Montana Pitch Blend Dressing (pine pitch, beeswax and mink oil). Finally, I added a simple leather wrist lanyard and a rubber cane tip.
I presented Deb with her new walking stick this morning, on her birthday.
She says she loves it. I think she means that.
For my part, it was satisfying to create her gift rather than buying one. I like the way it turned out, too — it has character, rustic without looking crude or primitive.
The best thing about this simple staff, though, is what it represents. It’s a piece of The Mountain. I harvested that sapling within hours of us beginning to create our Home here.
It makes for quite the story. Like the walking stick itself — as well as the woman who now holds it — it’s like no other.
This is the first anniversary of the toughest weather challenge we faced while RVing. A year ago, and for three straight days, we battled the coldest temperatures northern Arkansas has ever seen — high winds driving the chill down to -47°F — and we won.
Meteorologists dubbed it a “once in a generation” event. It took all of our creativity and know-how to keep the motorhome’s systems from freezing, but we came through it undamaged.
Today’s forecast high in Yellville was 70°F, with a low tonight of 54°F. Even I can do that math — we’re looking at a difference of 101°F from this time last year.
The birthday girl asked for her birthday meal at Carolyn’s Razorback Ribs, and I was happy to oblige. We had burgers. Carolyn’s daughter, Felicia, left a Christmas card for us.
Then, to avoid being pinched by our laundromat closing early on Christmas Eve (tomorrow), we dashed over to Gassville and did a couple of loads.
Busy place. Lots of other folks had the same idea.
We turned back in the direction of Yellville, making a detour through Cotter to check out the historic arch bridge, all lit up for Christmas. We drove down to the town’s riverside park for the best vantage point, and we weren’t disappointed — just spectacular.
(Deb got some cool video of Cotter’s Christmas lights in the park, as well as our passage across the lighted bridge. I’ll share those another day.)
We wouldn’t feel like we’d celebrated Deb’s birthday properly unless we ended the day at Crooked Creek Pub. Good beer, good food and great conversation with the proprietors, LouAnn and Paul, who’ve become friends.
Happy birthday. Merry Christmas. ‘Twas a very good day — and tomorrow is wide open.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB