International CowPea Festival

South of the Gnat Line is excited to attend this year's International Cowpea Festival!! Can't wait to share the experience!

A Tribute to my Southern Sisters!

Savannah, Georgia's very own South Magazine is celebrating their 50th issue with, this, their June/July 2014 issue.

It's theme: All things "50".

Some weeks backs, the Magazine posted a request on their Facebook page seeking submissions for Fabulous Southern Women Over 50.

And I thought to myself, "Hmmmm, I know some of those."

So.

To pay tribute to, recognize and honor their unconditional love and seemingly endless years of friendship, I shared my fabulous circle of girlfriends with the Magazine.

You can well imagine my surprise when they decided to include us in a little shout-out as the lead caption to their feature for Southern women over fifty.

As an only child, these women have filled the sisterhood void in my life in many ways and for many years. These are women of strength, courage and truth.  They pick me up (and all my pieces) and refuse to let. me. fall.

No matter the time or distance, we pick up where we left off last and are forever bound by a southern sisterhood that remains undeniably close-knit, full of life and wide open. Simply put, we have a sacred bond that remains timeless.

I share them with you as a tribute not only to their physical attributes, but more so for their inner beauty that radiates in all areas of their lives and, clearly, everywhere we go.

Of the original nine girls, we have remained seven-strong since graduating high school.

Life happens.

We were all born in 1961 and are all Georgia gals. Four of us have been friends since kindergarten; the seven of us have been close friends since we were all 13 in the eighth grade.

In high school, all of us worked at the same restaurant owned by the parents of one of us. Two of us shared a hospital room, dated brothers twice and married brothers once. Four of us married our high school sweethearts. Four of us became sisters-in-law and two of us remain sisters-in-law today. Two of us are cousins-in-law while two of us have the same last name but are not related.

Combined, we have 12 marriages for more than 150 years of marriage. In fact, two were even Vegas weddings.

We’ve all experienced childbirth and, collectively, have 13 siblings, 19 children and 4 grandchildren, to date.

Among us are business owners, professionals, leaders and serve in our communities in a multitude of ways. On any given day we are seven different versions of high strung and feminine southern sass as well. (...and that's just the stuff we'll tell ~ [wink]...)

We lived across the street from one another, behind one another, around the corner from one another; we’ve been roommates in college as well as during our 20’s.

Our parents have parented all of us at one time or another; we learned to drive together while driving each other crazy as well.

We’ve been in each other’s weddings, celebrated our children, fallen together, supported one another as we’ve lost parents, picked each other up, and toasted the milestones of our lives together.

While the love is unconditional, we are, nevertheless, bold and honest with one another. Undeniable, fierce loyalty and commitment are naturally woven within the bonds of our circle. After all, these are the time-honored virtues of traditional Southern women.

Three of us remain in Rome, while the remaining four of us: one resides in N. Georgia, another in Gainesville, another in Atlanta and last but not least, the seventh one of us resides in rural, East Central Georgia. 

Despite our geographic challenges, we continue to be in one another’s lives today with lots of help from technology, girlfriend get-a-ways and, of course, showing up at one another’s house or business!

I pay tribute to and applaud these beautiful and fabulous women now over fifty who I am blessed to call my lifelong girlfriends - my Southern Sisters - who I love beyond measure.

Daffodils: First Sign of Spring

Daffodils: First Sign of Spring, a set on Flickr.

While less than a month away, March 20th seems only visible in the distant view of a collapsing telescope in the grimy hands of a pirate. But nothing shouts, "Spring is almost here!!!" like daffodils blooming.

Given our recent winter weather and ice storm - they are such an uplifting sight to see!

Some years back on a neighboring dirt road not too far from our own, I discovered daffodils left behind from a family farm long forgotten. The old home place no longer remains - but the annual blooming of the faithful daffodils appear year after year as if to remind us of Spring's annual return and for us to always keep hope that life cycles around to all things beautiful.

No matter how many times I make my way back to this secret spot, it never fails to surprise me. Dirt road riding is well worth the breath-taking view of thousands and thousands of daffodils.

Meteors Are Falling From the Sky

February 13, 2010 - Dixie, Granny Rox & Mildred during the last snow

here at the Dirt Road Farm!

They may as well be.

Fewer things strike fear and stupidity into the hearts and neurotransmitters of Southerners than that dreaded winter forecast that screams out the "S-word."

Do I  need to spell it out for you?

S-N-O-W.

There. I said it.

It's a weather expletive in my giant book of all words bad.

All Southern children love it because the very moment the word develops into a minuscule whisper, the schools will send the kids home early and just up and close for the remainder of the week.

And as if we need one more thing for the balance of our countrymen to poke fun of us over, this time seems to be no exception.

By 4 o'clock this afternoon, all the local schools in the 6 county area had announced school closures for the next 3 days. (Parents, I shall commence praying….)

My Facebook and Twitter feeds are shrieking the "S-word" - one after another.

Dare I imagine the milk and bread isles at our little IGA?

Photo By L. A. Jenkins
This photo was taken at the Wal-Mart in Grovetown, Georgia at 7 p.m.
I. Kid. You. Not.

And if it really does snow followed by the usual community shut-down, we could easily experience a population explosion by October! (can you spell 'scandalous' ?)

Stranger things: it was 65 degrees on the front porch this morning while I drank my coffee, rocked in my rocking chair and blinked my eyes open while the sun warmed my face.

So in the next 24 hour window of time, I'm fully expected to believe that up to 4 inches of snow will arrive here at the Dirt Road Farm to greet me first thing in the morning… 

That ain't even funny.

At. all.

Y'all know I don't do mornings.

And now I just broke my "ain't rule"…what's this coming to?

Sounds like I need to be more cautious when citing the Dirt Road Snow Globe for matters of geography.

While I shudder at the thought of snowfall, it's not that I am anti-snow fun.  I watch the Winter X-Games and plan to watch the Winter Olympics.  I'm a fan of Carrot Top, er wait,  Shaun White!  If I want to see and experience snow, I am fully capable of traveling to the snow regions UP in the NORTH - the Northern territory that is.

But this is the ever-loving Deep South, People.  We simply don't. do. snow!

And besides, snow was not in Gone With the Wind.

Therefore, snow is a myth.

A diva named Scarlett said so.

HKJ

South of the Gnat Line

Copyright  © 2014

All Rights Reserved.

October Cotton Fields

There is nothing quite like walking knee deep through a magnificent cotton field.....this year's crop is almost shoulder high in some places (shoulder high for me anyway).  This is a field full of tee shirts and then some.

Photo: Harriette Keen Jacobs. South of the Gnat Line.  Copyright © 2013

Words can not adequately explain the majesty of the silence while standing in the midst of acres and acres of cotton awaiting its harvest. These fields that surround me here along the Dirt Road have decades and perhaps a century or more's history of cotton that has been grown - much picked and harvested by hand in the years behind us.  To recognize and reflect upon the human hands that have hand-turned the soil here is a must; it is also a must that we never forget.

Walking through October's Cotton Fields. South of the Gnat Line. Copyright © 2013

HKJ

South of the Gnat Line

Copyright  © 2013

All Rights Reserved.

Back Door Discoveries

Just outside the back door of the screened porch, I was greeted by a newly hatched turtle....

The Iron Horse - Green County, GA

Where All Directions Lead South - 
Including the Direction of The Iron Horse!

Photo by South of the Gnat Line. Copyright 2013. All Rights Reserved.

The Iron Horse in Greene County, Georgia

Created by Abbot Pattison at UGA in 1954

The Sculpture has resided in Greene County since 1959

Highway 15 in Greene County, Georgia - right at the Greene and Oconee County lines - has a famous site to see: The Iron Horse statue.

In the summer months, you may not be able to see the horse if the corn crop is good.

Strong and proud, photographs of the sculpture alone don't serve the size and scope of the Iron Horse true justice - perhaps SLG will have to revisit the statue with an entourage to give this grand Horse some scale.

Meanwhile, here's a little bit on this sculpture's history.

The Story of The Iron Horse

"Greene County (GA) Copyright 2010 D. Nelson

The infamous 12-foot-tall Iron Horse is an abstract sculpture that was created by Abbott Pattison at UGA's Lamar Dodd School of Art and placed in front of Reed Hall in 1954. Back then, art, and metal sculpture in particular, was new to southern universities and the horse was not well received. Just hours after its placement, students gathered around the iron creature, placed straw in its mouth and in front of it, manure at its back, and painted the word "front" on its neck. Balloons were tied underneath the rear legs, and attempts were made to set the horse on fire. When the fire department arrived, the students refused to back away until eventually the fire hoses were turned on the students.The day after the incident, the university moved the sculpture to a secret hiding place; R.I. Brittain, a university official. said it was unfortunate that students ''on the college level'' had minds on the level of ''grammar school or nursery children'' and ''react violently to anything new, with which they have not had previous experience.'' In 1959, the Iron Horse was moved to its current location on a farm in Greene County, where it now sits in the middle of a corn field, facing south and away from UGA, visible from GA 15 only in the winter. Jack Curtis, owner of the farm, says they are now judging the corn crops on whether or not they can see the horse.There have been several attempts to bring the Iron Horse back to campus but they all failed."

More links on the Iron Horse:

• http://www.flickr.com/photos/milkaway/4338814021/
• http://onlineathens.com/stories/022799/sli_0227990017.shtml
• http://georgiainfo.galileo.usg.edu/statues/ironhorse.htm
• http://www.redandblack.com/news/decades-pass-iron-horse-still-lives/article_e1e5abfd-8c7d-588a-b6c7-c723f5c6cf61.html
• http://www.exploregeorgia.org/listing/2610-iron-horse

Get Your Wild Game on in Sharon, Georgia!

Have a hunger craving for something on the wild side? Make plans to venture over to Sharon, Georgia for the "Wild Game Supper" - it's an all-you-can-eat you won't soon forget!

Quietly tucked away in eastern Taliaferro County is Sharon, Georgia (pronounced "SHAY-run": population 140!). Incorporated in 1884, Sharon is a beautiful rural community that is gently sprinkled with turn-of-the-century farmhouses, churches and a handful of surviving buildings from its earliest years. The site of Georgia’s first Catholic Church and cemetery (“Locust Grove”- circa 1790) is also located just south of the city limits.  Sharon, Georgia sits as a geographic crossroad to all points north, east, south and west. And on Saturday, March 23rd, the roads from all those directions will be filled with folks making their way into Sharon for their 56th annual Wild Game Supper.

What is the Wild Game Supper you ask? Hosted every March by the Sharon-Raytown Garden Club, it is an all-you-can-eat plethora of, well, wild game: Venison (deer) in more ways than you could ever imagine (Ham, Sausage, Smoked, Country Fried & more); Wild Hog, Fried Chicken, Squirrel, Possum & Racoon (served with sweet potatoes, of course!), Fried Rattlesnake, Bear, Elk Rabbit, Pork, Water Bear, Fried Chicken, Turkey, Goat, game birds and MORE! Then there are all the homemade sides: Green Beans, Mac’n Cheese, Potato Soufflé, Dressing & Gravy, Deviled Eggs, Potato Salad, Homemade Biscuits, Cracklin’ Cornbread, Drinks and, YES, more! The window sills are lined with [my favorite] all kinds of cakes and pies. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced! 

It’s a “back roads bucket list” must.

Here’s all the details:

56th Annual WILD GAME SUPPER

Saturday, March 23rd, 2013

Raytown Road

Sharon, Georgia 30631

Dinner Served 5 p.m. – 8 p.m.

(the line begins forming between 4 & 4:30 p.m.!)

Adults: $12.00

Kids 6-10: $5.00

Ages 6 & under are FREE!

For More Information Call:

Pittman Packing Co. 706-456-2496

Enjoy this slide-show of Sharon, Georgia

Want to go?  Here's a map that will get you there!
View Sharon, Georgia 30664 in a larger map

What is South of the Gnat Line?

• It's a Geographic State of Mind ~

• It's where all my Friends and Neighbors Meet Me at the Fence ~

• It's Black-eyed Peas on New Year's Day ~

• It's a Dirt Road Path leading to Wonder ~

• It's where "sweet" is the only Tea ~

• It's where all Directions lead South ~

• It's the Greater Rural Outback of Georgia's own Down Under ~

• It's where Muggy is a Season ~

• It's where Nike has "Just Do it", and the South has "Brang it!"

• It's where Dandelion Wishes come from Butterfly Kisses ~

• It's Fireworks and Watermelon on the 4th of July ~

• It's all about the Change of Seasons ~

• It's Coon Huntin' on a Friday Night ~

• It's where being Southern is a Southern Tradition ~

• It's where inside every Southern Gal is a Diva named Scarlett ~

• It's Real Life in the Real South!

HKJ

Copyright © 2013

All Rights Reserved.

Sounds of the Dirt Road

Saturday morning sounds around the Dirt Road Farm:


Distant neighbors driving cattle;

the call of my lamb;

bleating of the goats leaving the barn;

chickens conducting their morning routines;

softness of a distant train announcing its passage through;

and overhead the silence of the moving gray skies... 

The skies - they narrate the day.

Why the Dirt Road?

Long has been my desire to live along a Dirt Road.

I can only muse that it represents adventure down a less traveled path, living outside the box or perhaps my long rebellious nature resisting modern life’s intrusion on every blade of grass.

It is, in reality, all of these and more.

Life on the Dirt Road embraces a simpler set of rules than those of the electronic, fast-paced modern world.

When driving and riding along its deliberate trail – the pace is much slower; otherwise, you will surely miss something. Countless are the times I’ve stopped to move turtles from the middle of the road, rustle wildflowers from a ditch, or simply sit and gaze across a vast pasture. The air smells sweeter along this unpaved path and rare is the time that a horn is honked. Days can pass – often drifting two and three in a row – that a car is not. seen.

How can modern life compete with that?

I often reflect on the decision to move here to the Dirt Road, remembering the largest question from friends and family, “…why on earth would you want to move on a dirt road...”

My answer remains, “Why not?”

The Dirt Road is my beach, my quiet path, and my thinking journey on cool, crisp morning walks with the occasional armadillo encounter. Bluebirds dot the fence lines as if escorting my way up the hill and back. Cows are scattered across the fields greeting the new day while a new born calf’s first morning is safeguarded by the sacred landscape of this Dirt Road.  No matter the time of year, the early morning air washes over my face, lifting my spirits and strengthening me for the challenges of the day before me.  At a day’s end, this Dirt Road becomes embraced with intimate, soft ribbons of low lying fog that weave through the fence posts and scattered hay bales. And at night, this road fades into a gently worn path through a sleepy hollow that lies at the basin of seemingly endless pastures.

It represents withdrawal from trend and the ability to retreat to seclusion, to be seduced by nature and  captured in awe by our Creator while living surrounded by His Creation. To discover traces left behind of those who first roamed this land; to uncover the history of this once cultivated expanse; to be blessed with the privilege to dig my hands in the long, untouched soil; to steward the surrounding habitat for its wildlife…..  these are among the many reasons the Dirt Road has claimed me.

I embrace modern convenience and mingling with the masses on occasion – I truly do.

However....

I can not wait to feel the tires of my truck leave the asphalt pavement and meet the earthen path that leads the way home.

HKJ

Copyright © 2007, 2013

All Rights Reserved.