Reflections From a Country Girl

It’s been crazy these last six months.  The stress has been much more than normal, though I am a master at making it look like I am taking things in stride without changing my pace at all. 

It wasn’t a surprise when I told those closest to me I was going away for some time to “regroup”.  I had planned on taking a trip to New Jersey to visit some friends and to take a quick trip from there into NYC to see my son while he is working on a film in Brooklyn.  

“That’s not relaxing…” I said to myself. 

So, I decided to go from one extreme to another and head to the mountains of Tennessee. Like Glenn Miller said in his song, Going to the Country, I decided to “leave the city put my troubles behind.”

I decided to go to Possum Trot.

Yes, Possum Trot.  It’s a real 1850s cowboy town on the Tennessee/Kentucky border. I had never been there before.  It took me six hours to drive by car.  When I turned off the main road I suspected I should have rented a truck.  My white Avalon just didn’t cut it in those rugged mountains but I was there now and not about to turn around. 

As I turned the corner around the bend I could see the rugged town.  Three dogs came running to greet my car.  Turns out that one of them, Lobo, was 3/4 wolf.  When I stepped out of the car it was obvious the dogs were there to “size me up.”  Their tails started wagging and I knew I was ok.  They approved. 

I had already been told the town was deserted for the next several days.  The only one I might find there was Ernie and the dogs.  Ernie was the resident blacksmith and lived in one of the small cabins.  The town would be coming alive in a few days with cowboys and cowgirls ready to shoot and have a good time for the weekend.  

All the cabins were going to be full so I opted for a room up over the saloon.  Sure enough, Big Nose Kate’s room was waiting for me.  Sorta made me feel like a saloon girl walking up the stairs.  They often slept and entertained over the saloon in those mid to late 1800s cowboy days.  

I was told right up front that it got rowdy in the saloon at night and sometimes it didn’t settle down till close to sunrise.  “Cool.” I said.  “I’ll probably stay up with them.”  

Late that afternoon I met Ernie.  He claimed to be a hippie from the 60’s.  He had lots of stories to tell and I heard many of them.  I also discovered he was a master gun maker.  When he wasn’t making guns he dished up breakfast in the chow hall for the mornings there was a crowd.  You had to get there early to get his food. Once it was gone, it was gone.  It went fast.  “Cowboys are a hungry bunch.” he said. 

Settling in for a relaxing night’s sleep, I realized I better get all the sleep I could.  The next few nights could be sleepless ones and I needed my rest.  It was peaceful there.  Only a faint train in the distance could be heard.  No streetlights, no cars or trucks rushing by to get home, no fire sirens or police cars, no regular sounds I hear in my house at night.  

It was dead silent. 

Later the next morning I ventured out to the Big South Fork National Park.  The goal was to drive all the way around the park…which turned out to be a four hour drive that took me into the central time zone and Kentucky.  When I pulled back into town, there were a few cowboys settling in at the bunkhouse.  We gathered at the fire which was surrounded by swings and chairs right in the middle of town.  I had come back from my trip with a walking stick and thought about taking out my pocketknife from the car and carving it.  We all talked while I whittled away in front of the fire.  There were a few ladies there as well so we talked girl stuff while the guys talked shooting. 

I was finally beginning to relax.  The stress was peeling off.

Within hours the place transformed into a town of cowboys.  There were lots of hatted men and women in town for a good time.  The saloon started to liven up and the girls brought food from the kitchen for hungry folks to fill their stomachs. Pool tables were full and a card game was forming.  Ernie asked if I wanted to go play a few rounds so I pulled my quarters out and headed over where the game was about the begin. 

Four hours later I had learned how to play five card stud, seven card stud and Texas holdum.  I started with $13 and wound up with a ziploc bag full of quarters.  Not sure how many there were altogether.  Like Kenny Rogers sings….”you got to know when to hold up, know when to fold um…you never count your money when you’re sittin at the table they’ll be time enough for countin when the dealin’s done.”  I just never got around to counting it.  

Lets just say I won a sizable amount. 

It was very late when we decided to call it quits for the night.  I fell into bed and it wasn’t until later that morning that I opened my eyes.  I missed Ernie’s big breakfast.  All that was left was a biscuit and some strong coffee. 

The cowboys and cowgirls shot until early that afternoon.  They cleaned up and we were ready for another fun filled night at the saloon.  By the end of the next day I had to head home. 

 

Duty called.  Reality set in again.  

I did come back much more relaxed.  Like Glenn Miller sang in his song – Going to the Country – I found myself “goin’ to the country just to feel like gold…people in the country really let themselves go.”

Believe me, I’ll be going back.  

My wish for you today is that you take time to “de-stress” when times are tense.  You’ll be glad you did. 

Joellen 

 

 

 

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 13th, 2008 at 8:11:am and is filed under Life & Events, Living Life to the Fullest, Making wise choices, stress relief. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.