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COMING SOON TO YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD BOOKSTORE

Expedition Day One

In the car on the way back to town, our NCNR intern Jasmene asked me if I would call the first day a "success." I had to think about the answer to that question for a second or two.

I was kind of in a gut-twisting moment when she asked. I had thoughtlessly taken the long way back to where we were dropping off cars and just realized I'd added at least 45 minutes to our time to get home. Following me in another vehicle, my husband had just noted this screw-up via IPhone. Read More 
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Expedition Full Speed Ahead

I can't believe it's almost time. Time for another adventure down the New River -- about 235 miles worth. Holy crap. No matter what little thing I think up at 3 in the morning now, I'm sure to forget something that I needed to do!

It all starts on Saturday, July 24. That's not even a week  Read More 
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More Crossings

A Verlyn Klinkenborg piece in the NYT today ("Crossing Nevada") brought vivid memories to me of a very similar crossing for my family and me. It took place at about the same time as Klinkenborg details in his essay -- hell, we could have passed his car on the road.

We had a Ford Galaxie, too. It was a 1962 though, and I'm not sure what we were driving when we made our trip from California east. (The one we had was aqua blue, a convertible with a white interior and top. Sweet.) Read More 
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Blocking the Notion of Blocking

At the On the Same Page Literary Festival last fall here in Ashe County, Jill McCorkle told us about the box she keeps in her office. It's her writing stash. The clips and drips of thought that might someday turn into stories - even novels - she deposits in a box of idea treasures.  Read More 
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EMMA EMMA EMMA EMMA

Many of you know our wonderful music friend Emma Rugg. Last night, she won the Pop artist award at The Peoples Music Awards in London. We are thrilled, thrilled, thrilled. Read More 
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Two Days on the New River

Last Friday we hit the North Fork. George and Ben and I put in at the bridge off Deep Ford Rd. and went down to the bridge at Hwy 16. I went swimming, too, not on purpose... and it was cold, my friends. Trying to scooch in off the bank, ooops, put the nose right on in and filled up the boat in nothing flat.  Read More 
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A new essay

Below is an essay I've submitted to the New River Writers in Blacksburg who are mounting an exhibit of photos and the writing they inspire. The photo to the right of this post is the photo I have written about below:

Under the Bridges
Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The morning started out refreshingly cool; a quick little shower had wet the pavement and then moved on. Beside the road, we found a small parking lot, the ubiquitous brown wooden government issue sign denoting the place to put in your boats. Claytor Lake Dam loomed industrially in the background. Read More 
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And the sun came out...

And the sun came out and sparkled through the trees this morning. It was so outstanding I put on my coat and boots over my pajamas this morning to take the photos at right.
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More to Come

I'm up this morning waiting for the dawn to break over Mt. Jefferson, but it's only going to be a brightening, rather than a dawn. Snow is falling heavily; my eyes are peeled for the flakes to turn into icy blobs, but it hasn't happened yet. Read More 
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Bread and Milk?

Back in the early 90s, the region was struck with a once-every-100-year snowstorm. Its intensity and strength were unexpected. Elizabeth, who was about 10 at the time, Henry and I headed out of Charlotte on a Friday afternoon for a weekend getaway in Blowing Rock, a resort town a couple of hours away from Charlotte. While we expected to see a few flakes of snow, and that's why we went up there, it was March and no one, I mean no one, predicted the couple feet of snow that fell.  Read More 
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