Hey, It's Good To Be Back Home Again*

Waverly, Tennessee

July 3, 1993

Dear Ed and Nada:

Near Waverly, Tennessee

It's been some time since I have taken pen in hand with intentions of firing off a missive to you. I was glad to hear you both survived your great Alaskan adventure without too much wreckage to either body or soul. I'm glad to hear you enjoyed the trip and became rich panning for gold while you were there.

Robert W. Service never did get rich in the Alaskan gold business but he fired enough minds on the romance of the place to keep the Chamber of Commerce there in business through this century, at least.

Robert wrote about a man named Sam McGee who went to Alaska from Tennessee. It seems Sir McGee could not stand the subzero temperatures that Alaska produces and froze to death after wringing a promise from Service to cremate his remains. According to the story I heard, Sam sat up while being cremated and said he was finally warm for the first time since he'd left Stumpjump, Tennessee. I believe that story because I spent 44 years in Michigan where my feet never did get warm. A fact that nearly cost me my marriage. On the second night of our honeymoon, Norma** suddenly jumped up in bed and shouted, "If you touch me one more time with them cold feet, I am dissolving this union!"

I just came inside from the back porch where it is raining. This rain came up without notice. No thundering, no lightning, no sudden or strong winds. Just a cloud came over and rained. This kind of rain produces an earthy smell like the underside of a freshly pulled turnip. Norma has never been this close to nature before and is enthralled with some of the smells and sounds. Also, the bugs give her pause. Today, she found a large, green insect we used to call a stink bug because of the odor it gives off when bothered. She asked me all kinds of questions about it and, of course, I answered her. I know nothing at all about this bug, but I think pretty fast. She thinks that, perhaps, I am a bug specialist.

It is taking some patience to get used to the pace in a small town. Recently, I took our van to a local garage to repair the air conditioner. The mechanic told me to bring the vehicle in on Monday and he would get it back to me Tuesday. I won't go into the details, but it was Friday before we got the car back. Last Thursday, an electrician came to give us an estimate on installing some wall plugs on the back porch and hanging another ceiling fan. He promised to return on Tuesday to do the work. Yesterday, I stayed home all day but the Electrocutionist did not show up or call. Today, I called his answering service, they checked with him and assured me he will be here Friday to do the job. The tradesmen here are very independent and would last only a short time in the Yankee trade. But, at their own speed, they eventually do get around to the job. They feel it's too hot to hurry and perhaps they are right. To their credit, they charge less. 

It has been hot here and still is, but the last two or three days have not been muggy. Last week, the humidity was high and the temperatures hung around 95 degrees, causing much unpleasantness. Norma became as testy as a sick bear when she had to go outside and I admit I had visions of Calumet, myself. 

This hot time is a signal that fresh vegetables and melons are in season. We have been getting fresh green beans, potatoes (it does have an "E"), corn and muskmelon. Lord! I love this stuff! We cook the beans for three to four hours seasoned with a hunk of hog meat. Norma saves some bacon drippings to cook the corn, then she boils the potatoes with margarine. We mash the potatoes and put on a little salt and pepper. These potatoes, along with the beans and corn are food fit for an Alaskan millionaire. 

Believe me! I am having great fun getting reacquainted with the Southern soul. Just today, I saw a sign at Walmart's asking for reenactors to do Confederate battle scenes. I think I will call the number. They can cast me as a walking wounded. The heat has been good for my feet and legs. I have very little pain, seldom take a pain pill and hardly ever use the walker, anymore. I can do most of my walking with just a cane. 

Again, I am glad you made the Alaskan trek unscathed. I'm glad you got across Chilkoot Pass without walking. I'm glad you found the Bonanza gold and will be set for life. From now on, I shall refer to you both as sourdoughs. If God is willing, I will see you soon.

Meantime, here's to the ice on the trail dog's feet,

Jim and Norma

Notes:
* If you haven't gotten an earworm already, click on this link for the John Denver song, Back Home Again.
** Jim's wife, Norma, also has a blog, "Postcards From My Mother."