Greetings from Lone Prairie Ranch. Sounds wild, yes? Not so much, although the coyotes would disagree – and do. As most of you know, I abandoned my farm, Coot’s Edge, to the gentle graces of a couple of far more back-to-the-landers than me, and moved to a country rental. I use the term rental loosely, because it’s a sweet place, with soaring vistas of prairie and creek bottom, a new and challenging garden spot, and even an apple tree. I just don’t own it. And that’s ok, because the folks that do are friendly and helpful, and I have enough room for my stuff. The challenge of moving is, at my age, full of opportunities to change directions and/or habits – or not. Of course, at almost 70 my largest opportunity was to decide on whether I would do a wholesale downsizing or drag all the detritus of my past lives behind me. I chose the latter, of course, and am still unpacking boxes, as I will be doing, I predict, far into spring. It’s ok, though. I have all my life been beset with an almost constant twitchiness, easily bored, quick to abandon one bright shiny thing for another. I believe that’s called creativity. Short version – ADD. Whatever. It works for me. Speaking of which, I gotta go. The boxes call.
Listen to or read the narrative of the latest installment of the classic Ozarks commentary by beloved Ozarks singer and storyteller Marideth Sisco, host of the long-running series, These Ozarks Hills.
my life and times 
While you are here, I will arrrange a “session” for you with Dr. D–my husband, Bill. He is of the opinion that whatever is begun, must be completed. Now. Not after finishing something else that was started oh—perhaps a week ago–or even two hours earlier. It makes for interesting conversatoins—stuff, stuffed into hidely places—and ocasionally, a project completed. Looking forward to your visit.
photos of new place please !!!
As one who was diagnosed with ADD when I was 53, and as the mother of a child with ADHD, I concur withnyour assessment of yourself. My only complaint is that the term is erroneous. It is neither a deficit nor a disorder – more of a difference in neurocircuitry that places us somewhere at the far end of a continuum that specifies whether we are seekers of security, routine, and things familiar or seekers of risk, adventure, and novelty.
James was my father’s brother, born sometime around the mid 20s. My dad, Paul, was a couple years older. I’m trying to place your mother because the name sounds very familiar. Who were her parents?
I remember you from the New York gig. You’re a pal of Bo Brown, yes?
Yep. I’ve known Bo for ages.
My mother’s parents were Pharis and Bea Sanders. Bea was a Henbest. Her mother was a Legerwood. My mother had a sister named Annie who passed away a couple of years ago in Springfield.
I wonder if James made the recipe box.
Do you know the Fergusons from Butterfield? Gene’s wife was a close friend of my mother’s and I’m still in touch with her. Never thought I’d end up so far away from the Ozarks but it’s beautiful up here. A little chilly. It finally warmed up to the 20s today, first time in weeks.
My mother’s mother was a Ferguson. Georgia was her first name. I think she was a cousin to Gene’s bunch. She married Manford Gentry. My mother was probably a contemporary of your mother. She was Margaret, or Marguerite, Gentry, and graduated from Butterfield in 1939.
I know James tinkered a bit with wood as a hobby, but he’s gone so can’t be asked. Their youngest sister, Louise, is the only one of them left. I’ll ask if she remembers your mother.
I’ll go with novelty, adventure and risk, being also an adrenaline junky. I like your assessment and plan to steal and use it the next time someone calls me batty.
Use it with my blessings. ADHD used to be called minimal brain dysfunction. I guess the term is an advancement over that, but more and more it is being recognized as just a difference in our hard wiring.
I just noticed the name James Sisco scrawled in pencil inside the lid of wooden recipe box that belonged to my mother, Ruth Sanders. She went to high school in Butterfield in the 1930s. Could it be one of your relatives?
I’m a writer who grew up in Cassville, fifth-generation Barry County. We met briefly when Blackberry Winter played the Highline in New York.
Good luck unpacking!
I hope that all your unpacking goes well. A new home is exciting! Grow as your garden does, with freedom and joy! Much love from the UK to you!