HOUSE MOUNTAIN #175: Hiking Theology (published 12-30-2020)

Introduction

House Mountain hike #175 (my eleventh hike there this year) is in the record! (This was also my 39th hike on “My Mountain” with “bionic” joints.) The hike was earlier today.

My ol' truck and I had attempted to get to House Mountain, about seven miles away, on Christmas Day, when six inches of snow was still on the ground. That day, the weather was mostly cloudy. The high was 28 degrees Fahrenheit. I had hopes! We tried three different routes, but the snow and ice on the roads stopped us. We could have gone another, longer and easier, route, but Hogskin Road would have been impossible, most likely. Beaten, but not defeated, we returned home.

Photographs and Comments

Today, anticipating a muddy and too warm hike, I decided to hike the two loop trails only, with the possibility that I could climb the ridge, if I decided to do so. I had on a T-shirt and short sleeve shirt only. (Well, I had on jeans, shoes, and ball cap also, in case you were wondering. Yes, I also wore underwear and socks!)

That's what they had decided to name the lower level parking lot. I had to park my truck in that parking area, since the upper and main parking area was full. It is Wednesday! The weather and mud are not great! Why are so many hiking today?

The above photograph is looking east, from where I had hiked. It is an easy little trail. You can turn left or right, on the loop, which is behind me. I turned right, to go up. (We all need to turn right, to go up.)

After I had hiked right and up, I arrived here. The above photograph is looking northeast. I had reached the main, or upper, parking area. They call the east, or lower, loop trail “Right Sawmill Trail.” I think that, decades ago, a sawmill used to be in the area. The trail name continues the heritage.

Seconds after I had taken the “Right Sawmill Trail” photograph, I turned left, to look southwest. This is a partial view of the upper parking area. The man, in the image, was kicking mud off his shoes. The information board, on the lower left side, has my photograph of the mountain, from a middle bluff, that I had taken years ago, in the snow. My name, “Marion Ferrell,” is on the photograph.

I had walked farther southwest, a few yards, past the information board, which is behind me now, to take the above photograph. The view still look southwest. They call this upper west loop trail the “Left Sawmill Loop.”

The above trail sign is the one that I touch, to check my time on my watch, as I start hiking up the west trail, to the west bluff. It is nine tenths of a mile up, with six switchbacks, after you get past the lower switchbacks. The trail will challenge you. I touch my rock, on the west bluff, to check my time hiking up, by my watch. I can now hike up, in 30 to 34 minutes. My average “pre-bionic joints” time was 24 to 26 minutes. My right foot and knee still slow me down – for now.

Today, I just “hiked” the two little loop trails. I will explain.

After I had finished the “Left Sawmill Loop,” I turned left, heading northwest. I had to see how muddy it might be! I had not gone up the trail too far yet. I am still at the base of the mountain. The above image is good enough to show the mud. I have stepped across the rocks many times, with and without “bionic” joints, to keep climbing up, through the other muddy spots that I know well. Today, I decided that I would not “enjoy another muddy hike.” I have taken several of them.

I had walked back, past the information board, in the upper parking area. (I always touch my photograph, on the information board.) I hiked back down to my truck, in the lower parking area. The above photograph shows my truck prominently. Twelve other vehicles were parked. My truck was number thirteen! Realizing that, my truck told me to get him out of there! He didn't want to be number thirteen!

Conclusion

My stubborn will was determined to get House Mountain hike #175 done, before the end of 2020. I did it. I knew that I would.

Yesterday, at my annual physical, my good doctor and friend had stated what I already knew. He remarked that my strong will had motivated my recovery to this point. I knew it already. We enjoyed a laugh. I had inspired my good doctor and friend.

Beaten, but not defeated, by life, we go Home eventually – if we have lived according to the grace that we received through Christ Jesus. In everlasting life, Home will be wonderful! That is what my House Mountain hike #175, today, brings to my mind. I hope that this article benefits you in the same way. Hiking theology does work.

“Life, Such As It Is,” Update on Tuesday, 12/29/2020

Howdy, y'all! At 3:30 PM on the dot, as I begin to write, website analytics show view totals as follows: Today, 256 views (so far); yesterday, 342 views; and this month, 8,197 views (so far, as we wind down 2020).

Saturday, 12/26/2020: My truck and I, after hauling off trash, tried to get to House Mountain for my 175th hike. The icy roads stopped us. We did have four days of winter, from the afternoon of December 23 through December 27.

Instead, I played with Molly, our doggy, in the snow-covered yard. By Christmas Day, we had six inches of snow. I took the above photograph on Christmas morning at 9:07 AM. The view, from our back deck, looks southwest.

Molly doesn't care for catching snowballs in the air. She doesn't want to attack a snowman. She used to enjoy that in her “childhood” years. At age five now, she did enjoy her usual “exercise” toys! The half-gallon plastic milk jug is still her favorite! I called my youngest brother. His family and he were still snowed in.

Mrs. Appalachian Irishman had permission from the “mask mafia” to visit her father's older sister, about five easier driving miles away. Her aunt, cousin, niece, and she were present, wearing masks, of course. The Christmas gift exchange took place a day late. Afterward, the day after Christmas, a “live video conference” happened. My wife had stated, after the Thanksgiving “video conference,” that this would not happen at Christmas. It did. The “mask mafia” won. I avoided it.

Sunday, 12/27/2020: Mom “went to see Jesus” on Wednesday, 12/27/2000. That was twenty years ago. I remembered. I opened my yet unpublished book, “Light at the End of the Tunnel.” I reread what I have been writing, off and on, since 8/22/2002. Furthermore, I wrote more, remembered, and hoped that I would publish my book soon.

Monday, 12/28/2020: Mom's yearlong suffering, before she went “to see Jesus,” started on Tuesday, 12/28/1999. I have written about it before on this website. My book has my written, but yet unpublished, words. I remembered.

Molly, at age five, had her annual doctor appointment at 9 AM. She received her usual annual injections and checkup. Her doctor said that Molly is going great! Afterward, Molly and I walked around in the “dog park” outside her doctor's office. She took a big dump near a tree! Good girl, Molly! We returned home.

I wrote more on my book. The weather was cloudy and turning warmer.

Tuesday, 12/29/2020: This is my second day of personal leave from work. I am also off work tomorrow. We are off on New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. I have my work “brain” (i.e., computer) here. On Monday, 1/4/2021, I will use my “brain” to work from home. Before my “temporary retirement,” which started on 12/24/2020 and ends on 1/3/2021, I had no indication of any other plan.

Molly had her annual checkup yesterday. She is first. I am next. Today, I had my annual physical examination at 8:15 AM. My fine primary care doctor told me that I'm doing great, despite my “bionic” joints. When he checked my heart, he told me that I have a heart like a cross-country runner. It beats slowly but hard on each beat. I reminded him that, at my initial visit years ago, he told me that I have an athletic heart and that I would live forever. Back then, I told him that I hoped not! We both enjoyed a fine laugh! Of course, we both wore our masks. Our masks did not mask the fact that my fine doctor and I are friends. I hope that his wife and he will hike House Mountain again. I met them once. It was their first and only hike. I hope that he calls and takes me up on my offer!

Our refrigerator needed help. A repairman arrived just after I left to see my doctor. I returned home just after he was gone. Our refrigerator required a little work to unclog a water line. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was home while he worked. She took care of the details.

I wrote more on my book. I almost hiked House Mountain for the 175th time today. It has been sunny and too warm. The mud is drying. I will wait until tomorrow or Thursday. The mud, from the winter that we had (12/23 – 27/2020) needs to dry some more. I expect that the rain won't come until late Thursday.

I think that I will write more on my book. Not only that, but I will create a topic section called “Light at the End of the Tunnel” for this website as well.

This was just a little update today. Thank y'all for reading. We're winding down the year 2020. I do not think that 2021 will be much better. This Corona Myopia Psychosis will continue another year, as the propagandists spur it on. The year 2022 may be better. I am not a prophet, nor the son of a prophet, but that is my prediction. I hope that I am wrong, and next year will be better. Either way, this once great nation is bound and determined to be driven, by the propagandists and socialists, into destruction. In a few decades, this once great nation may be restored, but not in my lifetime. I wish you God's blessings in the New Year and day by day.

Oh, before I get off here, what do you think? Is Outskirts Press a good enough company that I could use to self-publish my book? There are many options. The cost for my book will be only what I need to make to break even. I don't want to earn any money from it. I only want to get my words in print, for folks here now and for future Ferrell generations.

By the way, at 4:37 PM, the view total today (so far) has increased from 256 to 270. That's 14 additional views in an hour and 37 minutes. Thanks, y'all, for “stopping by with coffee” to read for a while!

Christmas on Friday, 12/25/2020

Introduction

Today, I see a white canvas on a white Christmas Day. I will darken this canvas. The canvas outside remains white as evening brings on the night.

The term “Christmas” originated from “Christ's Mass.” The divine, eternal plan of salvation was realized. God, the eternal Word, became flesh. He was born of a virgin, lived a perfect life, died on the cross, was resurrected, and ascended back to Heaven. We who are ready await the second coming of our Lord and Savior. He will come to take us to our everlasting home in heaven. Of course, we may be called home, before he returns.

The secular and temporal trappings of Christmas are trivial compared to the spiritual and everlasting thoughts about Christ's Mass. Outside, the snow looks clean, white, and beautiful. Spiritually, we are cleansed by the blood of the Lamb.

Christmas Eve Snows Yesterday and Ten Years Ago, Contrasted with Christmas Eve Springlike Weather in 2019

This section is about snow on Christmas Eve yesterday and Christmas Day snow ten years ago. Those are contrasted with the springlike weather on Christmas Eve in 2019.

Yesterday's Christmas Eve Snow

On Christmas Eve, yesterday, the weather until about 3:45 PM wasn't very pleasant. It was rain, rain, go away. Then, the temperature dropped, and snow began to fall. The ground quickly became white. My wife and I enjoyed the Christmas Eve snow, which is continuing today on Christmas.

Christmas Snow in 2010

The last photographic record that I have of snow on Christmas Day was in 2010, ten years ago. That year, snow may have started on Christmas Eve. Searching this website finds the 12/26/2010 article about my snowy 75th hike on House Mountain. The article includes fifteen photographs of snow. I had hiked on the Sunday afternoon after Christmas that year.

Christmas Eve Spring in 2019

In 2019, just last year, Christmas Eve was different. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I visited my youngest brother and his family. It was a warm, springlike day. We had fun at a nearby park. Everyone but me played basketball. My “bionic” right foot didn't want to join them. Instead, I “hiked a ridge” wearing a T-shirt, as the following photograph shows:

 

Christmas Eve, 2019, was certainly “evidence” of “global climate change,” which the propagandists try to force on all who are gullible enough to believe them. I don't.

So, yesterday, what did Christmas Eve, 2020, prove? The climate does change. It has been doing so for thousands of years. I affirm and can prove the creationist view of a young earth. There is more proof for Father Frost (the Russian term for the guy who brings presents on Christmas) than for so-called man-made climate change!

Yes, I know. I could not help but toss in a political point against the propagandists. They will not desist or go away.

Christmas Snow Today

The climate change propagandists could not “snow” us this Christmas. We have snow! This morning at about 7:30 AM I took measurements in two locations in the front yard. Both measured six inches of snow. This is not a little two- or three-inch snow. This is a good snow!

The sun came and went under a variably cloudy sky through the day. At about 3:45 PM, however, the sky became completely cloudy, and snow started falling heavily! (Light snow had fallen at times all day long.) At 4:52 PM, as I type this sentence, it is still snowing, about like it did at this time yesterday!

From about 9 AM to 10 AM this morning, I took the four photographs below, using our Kodak camera (not my Samsung cell phone camera).

The above is from our back deck looking southwest.

The above is from the edge of the driveway, looking southeast. Can you see the paw prints made by our “old puppy,” Molly? They are different from mine. Molly had some fun in the snow too! Our 2008 Honda Civic and 2006 Nissan Frontier are both in “the barn” (i.e., garage). Yes, our garage isn't cluttered with junk. Vehicles are in the garage, where they are supposed to be.

The above is looking southeast from the deck.

The final photograph above is looking more south than southwest from the deck.

I hope that we don't have to wait another ten years before seeing snow on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Santa Claus gets tired of landing his reindeer sleigh on dry or rainy roofs. Snow makes a smoother and quieter landing. I know. He told me, once I was old enough to understand. I still believe. Santa Claus is real. He exists. I know him. He emails me now and then.

Conclusion

This Christmas Eve and Christmas Day have been better than in 1982 (Papaw Wood), in 1999 (Mom), in 2000 (Mom), in 2002 (Dad), and in 2007 (Dad). This year has not been as much fun as in several previous years (in childhood, as a young adult, and so forth). The rain-to-snow and the “Mask Mafia” hindered or quarantined the usual family gatherings.

On balance, however, the good memories outweigh the bad ones. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman did talk with the “Mask Mafia” a few times today. (There were no online conferences!) Recently or today, I spoke by phone with my three younger brothers, my “adopted” sister in Missouri, and one niece. (Are you reading this, Shanna?) We all are well enough “Livin' La Vida 'Rona” (with an apology to Ricky Martin's song in 1999).

I thought about driving to and hiking House Mountain today. Instead, I was wise. My truck and I could have negotiated most of the roads. Hogskin Road, however, was probably too treacherous. Further, with six or even more inches of snow on the mountain, I could have stepped wrong and injured myself or at least my pride.

In 174 hikes on House Mountain so far, I have fallen only one time, back in my “pre-bionic” days. I know the switchback well. I was alone on my way down in the snow. My right foot planted on a rock that I thought was covered only with snow. I had taken a careful step. Ice was under the snow. I slipped. My backside landed first, before the back of my head hit the rock behind me. I injured my pride only. If my head had hit first, well, I could have died. Someone would have had to come get my carcass or leave it there for the buzzards!

What is “Livin' La Vida 'Rona,” you ask? Well, I overcome Corona Myopia Psychosis, as I call it, through sarcastic humor! (We all have Corona Myopia Psychosis. Denial is a symptom.) I'm just trying to live the wild, new-cold-virus life, y'all! The propaganda machine is set up to keep running, like a runny nose, for at least another year. I predict that in 2022 this new cold virus will be in our rearview mirrors. It is already in mine, to the extent that I can get rid of it.

Well, at 5:44 PM, as I type this sentence, I will publish this article sixteen minutes before suppertime. I hope that you all are having a Merry Christmas today, even if a tragic event is happening today or has happened around Christmases past. I have experienced tragedy and loss around several past Christmas seasons. In time, if we have accepted the gift of Christ, we will be together everlastingly with Jesus and many loved ones who are, even now, filled with everlasting and heavenly Christmas joy.

12/20/2020 “LIFE, SUCH AS IT IS,” UPDATE

Initial Introduction

Four days ago, on 12/16/2020, a rainy Wednesday, at 3 PM, I started working on this article. Being published today, I am writing topically. Sermons are either topical or textual. I hope, dear reader, that you have been staying dry and that you will enjoy this topical “life, such as it is,” update.

By the way, this website is set up, so that subscribers will be emailed when an article is published. It's a free subscription, and I will not know who you are. I cannot know your email address. It is completely safe and has better identity protection than social media platforms. I even subscribed to receive emails for my own articles! I can’t, however, see that I signed myself up! I am now receiving emails when I publish an article.

Since the 11/22/2020 article and within the context of the 12/13/2020 article, this entry catches up on “life, such as it is,” to today. Warm up a cup of coffee and read for a while!

Introduction Continued

Yesterday, Saturday, I continued to work on this article. Four days ago, I wrote what is below about my mother. Sidetracked yesterday, I had to try to repair our microwave. A technician even checked it. Our 2003 microwave was toast (pun intended). We need to replace it. Otherwise, our Sharp “Half Pint" microwave, which we have had since the 1980s, is in the kitchen. It had been in the basement in protected storage. It still works. We can still “zap" stuff!

On this cloudy Sunday afternoon, I am finally finishing and publishing this article. “Life, such as it is," can be interesting at times.

Mom (11/24/1932–12/27/2000)

On this website, a search for “Mom" finds several articles that I've written about my mother. She would have been 88 years old on 11/24/2020, if she had lived. On that Tuesday, I was working at the office instead of from home, due to the insanity of my work schedule. I remembered my mother.

On 12/28/1999, my mother, as we found out later, did not have a bad case of influenza. A cerebellar hemorrhage, caused by an arteriovenous malformation, a birth defect, had leaked. It did not rupture completely, which would have killed her instantly. I have written about the details in previous articles.

On 12/27/2000, my mother “went to see Jesus," as she had stated that she wanted to do, before she died. Again, previous articles have focused on that sad day. On 12/24/2000, I was with my mother at the Holston Valley Medical Center. That Christmas Eve, I signed the required papers to allow my mother to return home with hospice care and to die at home. That was the hardest thing that I had ever done in life. Before the ambulance, which I followed later, arrived to transport my mother back home, she said to me on that late Christmas Eve late afternoon as darkness was falling, “You all have to let me go. I want to go see Jesus.”

Last Christmas, in 2019, we decorated what I called the 20-year Christmas tree. I wrote about it with a photograph included. This year, we do not have a Christmas tree.

Mom, I love and miss you bunches. I will see you again, in heaven.

Thanksgiving: "Mask Mafia" Compliant

For Thanksgiving last month, my youngest brother and his family stayed home. They worked up appetites by clearing and burning leaves. That is a chore. I have helped him a few times in the past. Several trees around their house drop an abundance of leaves.

My next-to-youngest brother did come here to have Thanksgiving supper (at 6 PM) with us. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I were happy to have a guest.

In contrast, on Thanksgiving, my wife's family, living only three miles away, was “Mask Mafia" compliant. Their enforced compliance kept us from having Thanksgiving dinner at noon with them. Instead, my wife and I “enjoyed” listening to them on an online “video conference” for most of the afternoon. I interjected a few pithy comments at times. Of course, that virtual Thanksgiving event was not much fun.

On Thanksgiving, I should have gone hiking! My wife should have gone with me.

Two days after Thanksgiving, however, my youngest brother and his family did come down to visit us on Saturday, 11/28/2020. The "Mask Mafia" in-laws could not stop Ferrells from standing against what I call Corona Myopia Psychosis! Of course, we were sitting mostly, talking, and enjoying seeing each other face-to-face without wearing masks, physical or otherwise!

New Desktop Computer

In March 2005, we bought our desktop computer from the Computer Depot LLC, my former "computer guy." The total cost was $1,112.17. The company had been my computer source as needed for upgrades and one repair. That desktop has been a faithful servant. It still works. The 2 GB RAM, however, is too slow for the demands of Windows 10. I left a voicemail with an email follow-up to my former "computer guy." I assumed that we would do business again. I awaited a call back or email reply. Crickets chirped. I left another voicemail, indicating my interest in doing business, if they would return my call or reply to my email. Crickets still chirped. I fired my former "computer guy."

Data Tech 11 became my new "computer guy!" On Friday, 11/27/2020, after the initial phone conversation and email follow-up, I bought and brought home our new desktop computer with 16 GB RAM. The total cost was $678.83. The new desktop is great! The only trouble that I had was fighting "Microcrap," as I transferred files and programs from our old desktop to our new desktop. I won the technology war! My computer guy could have done it, but I wanted to do it.

I highly recommend Data Tech 11 to anyone who has computer-related needs. Check out the website! They offer other services also. On 12/7/2020, Pearl Harbor Day, I mailed a postal letter to the owner, Michael Jesenick, with my highest praise and recommendation. I hope that he uses my letter to promote his business, as I encouraged him to do.

Homeplace

On the cloudy Sunday afternoon of 11/29/2020, I visited the homeplace. I did the usual chores. I called our across-the-road neighbors and spoke with them for a while. They were taking it easy indoors. The next two photographs are of the homeplace.

The homeplace is still holding up well enough. My 2006 Frontier seems to like getting into a photograph!

Granny Ferrell (11/30/1892 - 6/11/1971)

Molly Gertrude Archer Ferrell, Granny Ferrell, had a heavenly birthday on 11/30/2020. I worked from home that day in the insanity of my work schedule. I remembered Granny Ferrell.

Granny, I love you. I remember you well. I will see you again in heaven.

Bionic Breakthrough?

By the way, winter began on 12/1/2020. On Friday, 12/4/2020 (a work-at-the-office day, based on the insane and bureaucratic schedule), my "bionic" right footstep began to feel almost like my normal left footstep! The right step is not exactly the same yet, but I have been feeling profound improvement since that day!

Since 6/16/2016, when I took my first three steps using a rolling walker, I have seen gradual improvement. December 4th was a significant "step" in the right direction. I almost cried! As a man, I knew better. The last time that I cried was in early 2000, with my face on the floor in our apartment. I was begging God to restore my mother's health.

Further, my "bionic" left shoulder and right knee are showing signs of improvement. Of course, the "crossover reactions," as they are called, are also "talking" to me. I deal with it all. I am going forward slowly, ever so slowly, in my ten-year recovery process, which started on 3/29/2016.

Chores on Saturday, 12/12/2020

On Saturdays, I do a few usual errands and chores. I added three more on Saturday, 12/12/2020. My last new-cold-virus-compliant haircut was on 10/24/2020, seven weeks ago instead of the usual four. I needed a haircut badly. My great barber at Tony's Best Clips (Facebook) gave me another fine haircut. We also had another good visit.

Next, my 2006 Frontier was handwashed at Synergy Auto Wash, in Halls. The rain held off. The cost was only $13.00 for the hand wash, exterior drying, and tire cleaning. I always leave a good tip.

Finally, my truck had an oil change at Halls Express Lube. Since the last oil change on 8/22/2020, he had racked up only 1,835 miles. It had been almost four months since that oil change. The old oil came out almost as clean as the new oil went in. Halls Express Lube is a mask-free zone. No employee or customer has contracted the new cold virus there.

My “Adoptive” Sister

My “adoptive” sister in Missouri emailed me on 12/14/2020 (a work-from-home day). Her daughter's birthday was that day. Why didn't I remember?

First, I called my “adoptive” sister, Carol Sue. We enjoyed catching up by phone. Yes, I was wearing a mask to not transmit any asymptomatic new cold virus germs that I may have to her. I also spoke with her 90-year-old mother, my “adoptive” mother.

Afterward, I called her daughter. She's getting a bit of age on her now, but she is holding up well! That was another fine conversation. It had been a while!

My Brothers

My next-to-youngest brother calls about every other weekend. He called last weekend. He's getting along well enough.

Yesterday, I thought that I would hike House Mountain for the 175th time, after hauling off the trash. My youngest brother called before I took a shower. We had a long conversation. His family and he are enduring Corona Myopia Psychosis, as I call it, well enough.

As I was about to head out to haul off the trash, my next-to-eldest brother called. I'm the eldest. He left a voicemail. I returned home after trash hauling to call him instead of going hiking. He has a new caregiver who is from Russia! He passed his phone to her. We started talking in Russian and switched to English. We finished in Russian. She passed the phone back to my brother. That was fun! He called it his Christmas gift to me!

Conclusion

Well, it has taken me five days, from the 16th to the 20th, to finish and publish this article. "Life, such as it is," does happen.

The Christmas gift to the world was the immaculate conception of Jesus. God, the eternal Word, had become flesh. He was born of a virgin and grew into a man. Christ died for our sins, but he arose from the dead. The Son of God lives eternally. The Savior awaits in heaven for all believers who have accepted his free gift and who are living in honor of it.

Our 2019 Christmas tree was the 20-year tree. It commemorated the Christmas tree that Dad and I got for our apartment in 1999, while my wife and my mother were Christmas shopping. There is no 2020 Christmas tree. Mom became ill on 12/28/1999. She "went to see Jesus" on 12/27/2000. We didn't have a Christmas tree in 2000. We will not this year.

I trust that you all have accepted the Christmas Gift. If not, email me! I can help you accept it! This website's Contact Form is how you can email me.

HERITAGE: SANTA IN 1970 (published 12-13-2020)

Introduction

On 12/12/2020, a rainy late Saturday afternoon, at 5:14 PM, I had begun to write the following.

Well, good evenin’, y'all! Three weeks have past since my last articles, on 11/22/2020. My goal is to publish an article weekly. “Life, such as it is,” however, does happen. Depending on the rain, I may write and publish more tomorrow. Otherwise, House Mountain hike #175 will call me, tomorrow afternoon!

On 12/10/2020, a friend posted a photograph from 1970. She was sitting on Santa’s lap, in a department store photograph. It was in the context of her childhood memories. The times were happier and simpler. The photograph and her comments inspired me to write. I have been writing in my mind, off and on, since 12/10/2020. I now take pen in hand to bring my mental writing to paper.

My friend stated, in the caption to her photograph, that is was a different time certainly. My initial comment stated, “Heritage reminds us of pleasant days, in hope of a better than now future. I may write on the topic, by your inspiration.” We continued to share pleasant comments on the topic. The following is a continuation of her inspiration to my writing.

On 12/13/2020, 2:42 PM, I continue to write. (Last evening’s 6 PM supper and Molly doggy inside postponed this article.) The weather turned from cloudy to sunny early enough today, for House Mountain hike #175. It would have been muddy, so I decided to catch up on writing. I’ll get hike #175 later this month. I have at least two more articles in mind but not on paper yet.

Side Point Humor

As a humorous side point, I did a “Gaggle" search for “1970 department store photograph of an age 10 boy on Santa's lap." I was age 10, at Christmas in 1970. The search didn't show any particularly interesting photographs. It did show the one below!

“Fine” job, "Gaggle!" I see a cow "out standing" in her field. That's an “outstanding” search selection! That looks like a “1970 department store photograph of an age 10 boy on Santa's lap!” (I thought that y’all would enjoy my “punny” humor!)

Christmas Heritage

My friend expressed vivid words that matched her photograph. She was reminiscing her childhood Christmas in 1970. At Christmas, we remember Christmas times of years ago, or decades ago, if we are old enough.

I remember Christmas in 1970 fairly well. Three of us boys were born. I was age 10. Next to eldest brother was age seven. Next to youngest brother was age one. Youngest brother would be born about three years later. Mom (11/24/1932 – 12/27/2000) and Dad (9/17/1927 – 1/25/2008) were younger.

Papaw Ferrell (born 4/13/1880) had passed away, about a month before, on 11/21/1970, at age 90. Granny Ferrell (born 11/30/1892) was still alive. She passed on 6/11/1971, so 1970 was her last Christmas. Dad had taken my next to eldest brother and me, to visit Granny Ferrell on Christmas Eve in 1970. She was living alone, in the furnished basement apartment, at the home of one of Dad’s sisters and family. Granny Ferrell always had fresh, homemade cake for us! I hugged her neck, as always.

We lived at the “‘ol' Livesay place,” in east Hawkins County. We would have three more Christmas times there. We moved into the “home place,” also in Hawkins County, in the summer of 1974.

About two weeks before Christmas, I had hiked about on the Livesay farm and ridge lands, to find a good Christmas tree, to bring home for decoration. We still have some of the original decorations that Mom kept through the years.

Granny Wood (6/16/1901 – 8/12/1991) and Papaw Wood (9/4/1901 – 3/14/1983) had driven up from their Bean Station home, on Christmas Eve, to spend the night and be with us for Christmas Day, as they always did then.

On Christmas Eve, Papaw and I, along with everyone, enjoyed the eggnog. We enjoyed listening to his stories, on various family topics. Granny was always bright-eyed in joy. She helped Mom with all the Christmas fixins. We enjoyed the simple time of family and heritage. We three boys went to bed early, of course. Papaw Wood once said, maybe on that Christmas Eve, that we might hear sleigh bells, if we didn’t get to sleep early enough.

On Christmas Day, maybe that year, I could have sworn, and told Papaw Wood, that I knew that I had heard sleigh bells the night before! I still think that I did!

I don’t remember the gifts that my brothers and I received, from Santa and from family. I do remember the Christmas joy of getting up early, smelling the breakfast aroma from the kitchen, and seeing what Santa had brought! After the gift opening and sharing wonder, we enjoyed family conversation and the busy dinner (12 PM) preparations. I always “snuck” some turkey!

Depending on the weather, my next to eldest brother and I may have spent some time outside, with our dogs (Bandit and Blacky, at the time). Our dogs enjoyed the leftovers, the few that Mom saved for them.

Granny and Papaw always left about mid afternoon, “before the sun started going down too much,” as Papaw would say. He didn’t like to drive into the setting sun, as most of us don’t.

Conclusion

Christmas time comes and goes, often with good memories and sometimes with bad memories (as in 1982, 1999, 2000, 2002, 2007). The heritage continues -- or at least it should.

On Christmas Eve, 2019 -- before Corona Myopia Psychosis and Vote Early, Vote Often, drove this once great nation to its knees -- Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I enjoyed a warm (not due to man-made global climate change) Christmas Eve, at my youngest brother’s home, in Hawkins County.

He, his wife, their two daughters, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, and I had a fine Christmas Eve dinner (12 PM). Afterward, we enjoyed the warm weather, in a nearby park. My youngest brother and family were behind the shelter. My youngest brother is visible. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman took the above photograph. I was “hiking on the monkey bars!”

Despite “these challenging times” and the so-called “new normal,” my friend -- who inspired this article, by her 12/10/2020 photograph and comments -- and I, along with many others, in the “we won't be silent much longer” majority, continue to stand for Appalachian family heritage! We will not back down! Will you join us – if you haven’t done so already? Stand!

Don’t try to drive into the setting sun, y’all!

Okay, at 5:45 PM, I’ll stop, before supper, at 6 PM. I’ll have another couple of articles in a few days. Wait for them! You are welcome to sign up to receive emails, once I publish an article, if you wish.

NOVEMBER 21st CHRONOLOGICAL HISTORICAL NOTES: 1970 (PAPAW), 2015 (MOLLY), 2016 (TRUCK), 2020 (HOUSE MT. #174)

 Introduction

11/21/2020, Saturday, 5:23 PM, with a neighbor still mowing his yard, at twilight, I begin to write. I probably will not post this until tomorrow. Yes, I’m hungry. Yes, supper is at 6 PM. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, who has “Corona Myopia Psychosis,” is working on it.

1970 Papaw Ferrell

Papaw Ferrell was born on 4/13/1880. He left this world on 11/21/1970, when I was age ten. I remember him well. I have fine memories of Papaw Ferrell. He enjoyed the outdoors, wilderness world. I don’t think that Granny Ferrell cared much for his extended time in the woods – hunting, trapping, etc. She put up with it – as Mrs. Appalachian Irishman does with me.

His name was and still is Marion Ferrell. He did not have a middle name. My first and, of course, last name is from him. Marion is Merrion, spelled correctly. It means, in Gaelic, “brave man.” Ferrell is Fearghail, from the Irish. It means, in Gaelic, “man of valor.” My middle name, William, was and still is the middle name of Mom’s father, Aby William Wood.

Hey, Papaw Ferrell, House Mountain hike #174 was in your honor. Men like us need, or needed, our time in the woods. It helps me defeat “Corona Myopia Psychosis.” I look forward to enjoying the heavenly wilderness with Papaw Ferrell, eventually. At one point, on my hike, I felt his presence, with me in spirit.

2015 Molly Doggy

On 11/21/2015, Saturday, the anniversary of Papaw Ferrell’s passing, I drove my ’95 Nissan pickup (the one that died, on 3/29/2016, saving my life), to get and bring home our Molly doggy! The weather was perfect – cool enough for a sweatshirt, unlike 11/21/2020.

Molly doggy is a wonderful “old puppy,” as I call her. I’ve known several great doggies over the years. In chronological order, there was Bandit (aka Bandito), Wendy, and Buddy. Those three were connected to my roots in Rogersville.

I might post a latest photo of Molly in time. She has a unique personality. She understands my English well enough. I understand her Doggy language well enough. Molly always stays inside with us a few hours in the evening. Her bedroom is the lower level doggy complex. She is a daytime, outside, doggy! (Well, if it’s rainy or very cold, she has her lower level doggy complex, which is heated and cooled, by means of doggy door access!) Molly, the last two evenings, wanted to go outside about three of four times, to check out the other dogs that were barking around us, etc. I went outside with her each time. She needed to “take a leak.” She wanted me to “take a leak” also. I did. It was dark. No one saw me, except Molly, who granted me a respectful distance. Molly looks at me. I know what she is saying. I wish I could take her hiking with me. Alone, with Molly, I could do fine, on the hike up. The hike down, with Molly, on a leash, might not work out too well still yet. I have to be more of a “lame mountain goat” going down than going up. If Molly smelled something and started pulling the leash, while going down, I might not be able to hold balance and control.

I wonder if Papaw Ferrell, Bandit, Wendy, Buddy, Molly, and I will enjoy everlasting and joyful experiences in the heavenly woods together. I speculate, by faith, that heaven will have that type of opportunities, along with many, many others. There will be no leash in heaven, no leash, no leash up there.

Hey, y’all, why don’t you join us, in heavenly hiking! If I don’t see you here, I will see you there!

2016 New Ol' Truck

On Monday, 11/21/2016 (the anniversary of Papaw Ferrell’s passing), I drove our ’08 Honda Civic to the location where my soon-to-be new, ol' truck was for sale. My “bionic” joints were “talking” to me quite intensely that day. I remember. After the routine test drive, inspection, and dickering, I paid the deposit to hold my ’06 Nissan Frontier, until we could get him.

Mom’s birthday anniversary (1932 born) was Thanksgiving Day that year (11/24/2016). The next day, on Friday, 11/25/2016, I drove our car, with Mrs. Appalachian Irishman riding shotgun. We paid the balance for my new, ol' truck. I drove him back to the “barn” (i.e., garage).

My new, ol' truck still likes to have his photo taken. Read on!

2020 House Mt. #174

What else could I do? My barber can wait. Tractor Supply trip can wait. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman had her every-two-month, high dollar, and two-hour “haircut” appointment (9 – 11 AM). The weather was nice enough. It was still too warm, but it was sunny, with a few clouds that indicate rain is coming in a day. House Mountain Hike #174 is in my hiking log and in my memory!

Okay, it’s 6 PM on the dot, 11/21/2020, Saturday. I’ll write more and post later. I’m hungry! Let’s stop to eat!

11/22/2020, Sunday, at 4:57 PM, I now continue writing. The above photo is after I’d hiked up the west trail to the bluff. The photo is looking east, along the north ridgeline. The white marker indicates 0.8 miles. (The distance is 0.9 miles to the west bluff. I know. The mountain didn’t shrink.) Do you see my “selfie” image of my head?

I’m glad that I hiked in a T-shirt only. When will it turn cool?

I enjoyed time alone, or with a few other hikers, but not too many, at the west bluff. My thoughts ran deeply. I unloaded my “Corona Myopia Psychosis” that had been building up. I started hiking back down the same trail I’d hiked up.

The above photo is one location on the trail. Do you see the petrified tree trunk jutting out to the right of my shadow? That is the tree trunk that I call “Defiance.” I’ve seen it, unchanged, for many years. I always touch it. It had grown, from the base of the rock ledge above it, and fallen, years before I started hiking the mountain. The hike down at this spot takes caution, along with at least three other locations farther down.

Who was that shadow, standing to the left of my shadow, with his arms by his side? Was that you, Papaw Ferrell?

Near the end of the hike down and out, I passed a group of three younger folks, hiking up. Two had their hiking masks on. One did not, until he saw me, coming down the trail, hiking maskless. He donned his mask quickly. As I past him, I stated loudly, “I don’t have the Corony!” He said nothing. I hope he learned.

I had to “hike” an extra three tenths of a mile each way, to the off the road location where I had to park my truck. (Yes, the upper parking lot was full.) My new, ol' truck enjoyed our day – remembering Papaw Ferrell, the day Molly came to us, the day I saw him, and today. Oh, I placed my 2021 tag sticker (annual expiration in December) on my truck the same day.

Conclusion

I know you are eager to find out. “What is Corona Myopia Psychosis, you ask?” Well, I’ll tell you.

“Corona Myopia Psychosis” is a state of mind that could include anxiety, frustration, depression, mood swings, anger, the inordinate use of colorful language, talking with one’s self, an abundance of sarcastic humor, and so forth. We all have the psychosis, in varying degrees. Failure to admit it is a symptom. Lack of honesty about it is a symptom. Obsessing with the new cold virus is a symptom. Aren’t you tired of it? I am.

Mrs. Appalachian Irishman expresses her psychosis by withdrawing inwardly. I deal with my psychosis by my glib Irish tongue, either verbally or in writing, such as now. My best cure for my own psychosis is my hiking. My sarcastic humor helps on a more daily basis, along with the abundance of talking with myself, which includes my occasional use of colorful language that only the Lord and I hear. (He forgives me.)

This once great nation may never return to its status, before this new cold virus started. Of course, the media agenda that drives the racial tension degrades the nation still. The presidential election (vote early and often) propaganda may just drive this nation to its knees, in time. If our nation can reach the socialist “Utopian” bottom, we might be able to return, after decades of pain and suffering, to a great nation status again. If so, it will be after I’ve already joined Papaw Ferrell, and so many others, at Home.

Hey, Papaw and my doggies (Bandit, Wendy, and Buddy), y’all wait on Molly and me! We’ll be heavenly hiking with y’all in time!

Okay, it’s 11/22/2020, Sunday, 5:58 PM, at the time of this writing. I’ve talked with my two younger brothers by phone. I’m hungry. I’ll post this after supper! Let’s eat!