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Decoration Day

Despite the protests, Ma Minnie Ledford ran her kids out of bed early on Sunday morning.  She would not allow anyone to "sleep in" on the Lord's day.

"Rise and shine," she yelled.  "Wash up, eat your breakfast and get ready for Myers Chapel."

"Oh, no!" moaned Ralph.  "Can't we stay at home and get some shut eye?"  asked Robert.

Ma frowned and shook her head.  That was a definite no.

After a hardy breakfast, Rondy, Ralph, Robert, and Reuben headed to the barn to milk the cow and feed the livestock.  They helped Pa hitch the mules to the wagon for church.

The girls dragged their feet getting ready.  Reba, Robenia, and Rena kept primping before the mirror.  They had their eyes on some boys at church and wanted to impress them.

"Lands sakes!"  said Ma.  "You would think you girls were going to the White House to meet President Hoover.  Church will dismiss before we get there."

Ma carried a poke of flowers to the…
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Going Barefooted

Each spring Rondy Ledford (my father), looked forward to the jonquils blooming in the Matheson Cove.  That's when he and the young'uns could kick off their brogans and go barefooted!


"Ma, when I got a bucket of water at the spring this morning, I saw the jonquils coming up," said Rondy.  "Can I go barefooted?"


"No, son.  It's too early to pull off your shoes.  You young'uns would get the flu.  Wait until the flowers bloom."  She smiled and patted his curly black hair.


A joint groan came from Rondy, Reba, Ralph, Robert, Reuben, Robenia, and Rena.  Even baby Ray whined.


"Hush your moaning," said Ma.  "You boys go to the front porch.  Robert just got his barber's kit from Sears and Roebuck catalog."  She shooed them out the door with her apron.


"Ain't no way old Doe's going to cut my hair," yelled Reuben.  "He would scalp me."


Reuben took off to the outhouse with Rover howling at his heels.…

Legacy of Love

This "Lone Star Quilt" was pieced by my grandmother, Minnie Matheson Ledford.

Around the quilting bee,
a patchwork of grandmothers
left a legacy--life lessons
for a future generation.

Wearing flour sack aprons,
mountain women taught patience:
stitches no bigger than pinpricks,
to savor time, good stewards of life.

Grandmother Minnie matched seams,
created patterns from scraps,
taught me to create my shape,
to choose a color scheme.

Great-Grandma Martha taught
me to lay aside work,
take time for pleasure;
a lesson she learned too late.

My kinfolks taught faith
in the Cathedral Windows,
beauty of Grandma's Zinnia Basket;
love in Grandmother's Engagement Ring.
                   --Brenda Kay Ledford


"Lady of the Lake" quilt was pieced by my sister, Barbara Ledford Wright.

"McComma's Quilt" was also pieced by Barbara Ledford Wright.

"Monkey Wrench" quilt was pieced by my mother, Blanche L. Ledford.

The Shooting Creek quilters holding a …

Matheson Cove Snow

Snowflakes flutter
like white feathers
across the Shewbird Mountain,
the Matheson Cove glowing
under a satin sheet.


Reba, Rena, and Robenia
grab Ma Ledford's dishpan,
scoop snow under the pines
sparkling with cotton balls
to make snow cream.


Granddaddy Bob hitches ole' Kate
to the sled and snakes wood
off the ridge for the fireplace.
Ralph, Reuben, Robert, and Ray
hurl snowballs against
the Devil's Post Office,
a cave where lovers left letters.


Clouds bleed over the hills,
a Full Wolf Moon casts
gold on Chunky Gal Mountain.
Rondy hitch-hikes from the
Civilian Conservation Corps
to spend New Year's Day
with his new bride, Blanche.
                --Brenda Kay Ledford








I wish my blogger friends a very happy New Year!



Historic Hayesville Holiday

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas in the town of Hayesville.  Snowflakes twirl doilies and cast a glow on the Blue Ridge Mountains, part of the Appalachian chain in western North Carolina.

The old red-brick courthouse dazzles with wreaths.  Christmas lights sparkle on evergreen trees around the town square and on every street corner you'll hear silver bells.

It's Christmas time in this little town.  Ornaments glitter like gold at the gazebo.  Decorations grace storefronts, homes and churches. Tidings of joy fill your heart.

To celebrate Jack Frost's favorite season, don't miss the Christmas parade in Hayesville.  Floats, classic cars, and horses lap the town square.  Hayesville High School band marches and plays festive music.  But the best is last.  Santa and his reindeer make the grand finale as the jingle bells resound on the mountain air.

Grab a cup of hot chocolate and step back to a simpler time.  It's like a Norman Rockwell painting coming to …

Old Days: Matheson Cove Style

Wood smoke spiraling like India ink from a log cabin flips back a page from the past.
Grandma Minnie bowed over a quilting frame pieced a Lone Star quilt.
Light ricocheted through red-checked curtains, sorghum syrup glittered
like gold on the kitchen table. Grandpa Bob plowed a cornfield with mules, raised a big crop.
Snowflakes twirled feathers across Shewbird Mountain: hog-killing at Thanksgiving.
Homemade sausage, rendering lard, hams cured in the smokehouse. Sunrise to sunset
mountain folks worked farms, at harvest they held a hoedown in the old red barn.
by:  Brenda Kay Ledford
Published in: Pancakes in Heaven, November, 2016



Granddaddy Bob and Minnie Matheson Ledford

Hams cured in the Smoke House.




I hope all my blogger friends will have a very happy Thanksgiving with their friends and family!


It is indeed a blessing to blog with my friends.  I appreciate very much your visiting my blog and your kind comments.




The Gift of Color

I love the bright colors of fall and the cool air.  Yesterday I grabbed my camera and rambled around my yard taking photos.  I discovered a lot of things that I would never have imagined if I had stayed indoors.

The poplar trees waved their golden palms in the bright blue skies, the dogwood trees wore strands of rubies, squirrels scampered with their jaws filled with hickory nuts.  A doe appeared from the woods with twin fawns. Goldenrods spiraled near a field of corn, and lilac asters sprinkled stars on the roadbanks.

I'm sure there's a God who loves color.  Consider ambers caught on the ridgeline at fall, watercolors splashing the mountains, cotton clouds scudding through lollipop blue skies, gems licking drops of sunlight, and a wedge of geese resounding over a field of goldenrods.

Imagine the earth without color.  This must be proof of a greater power existing, an artist who loves color.














Some call it autumn,others call it God.
I hope my blogger friends will enjoy this sea…