Welcome to the "hill". That’s right hill not mountain. It seems that when I was growing up there was always a family doing better than we were. And they always lived "on the hill". The really well to do families lived on the mountain but if many families shared the mountain it again became known as a hill. Obviously someone had to live in a valley or in the hollow (or holler as we called it) but you never heard much about them. Could be the old saying about crap running downhill is true or it was just because we were usually there and it’s just ain’t natural to talk about yourself.

This rural economic gauge forced many families to move up, to presumably better places. A person’s status was quickly determined by the location of their homestead and the land they controlled. You’ll notice I said controlled, not owned. It was not uncommon for the occupying family not to be the actual owners but more of the caretakers of the land. However, you couldn’t tell that from the way they acted.

My immediate family has long since moved away from this rural life. Each generation more disconnected from these roots than the one it replaces. My great grand parents worked farms by hand and rarely ventured more than a few miles from home. My grandparents spoke of hunting, raising animals for food (not as pets), growing the vegetables to eat and providing for the family by hard labor. They knew of others living just a few miles away but rarely made it that far. Electricity and telephones were new to them and when it finally arrived their houses were retrofitted for this great new technology. I still remember the wires stapled to the walls, fraying and exposed, as I grew older. My parents speak of not missing the days of milking cows & working in the fields. They left that behind when, after marriage, they chose moving and working in the city over the farm. I grew up mostly in the city. I visited and lived near family & friends in the country but never really "lived" there. I’ve only milked a cow on a couple of occasions and then it was for the novelty – honestly I don’t like fresh cow’s milk and I don’t think many people do. I usually can’t grow a weed without assistance. My kids? Well the closest they get to a farm is a "petting zoo". To them vegetables grow in cans and they probably wouldn’t know which end of a cow to milk.

Yes, we still have family & friends living there: working the farms, tending the livestock and raising their families. I often think of them and how my life, surrounded with the latest technologies, must seem to be the one out of balance.

One day I may return. I’ve had my place on the hill picked out since I was a boy. It’s near the top and has a view for miles. But for now I’ll be content with this "hill" in cyberspace.

As with all lives there’s humor, sorrow, tragedy & a whole host of other emotions and experiences. Please join me as I attempt to share some of the characters and events that have shaped my life and that of many others.

If you enjoy the stories please take a moment to let me know. If you don’t, thank you for visiting anyway.

In keeping with our roots this will be a simple place. Nothing fancy with the graphics, easy navigation, maybe some music and good conversation. The updates will be sporadic but with luck I’ll have contributions from family & friends. So like a good friend, stop by often and visit as long as you like. The door will always be open.

And as the most famous of us "hill" billies once said:

"Y’all come back now, ‘ya hear!"