Back on the farm

We spent Ryan's 30th Birthday on the TN Farm. Instead of taking photos this time, I painted the hay barn en plain air and knitted blankets for my friends. I am back logged on my blog photo uploading so, I am going to share my photos from our July 4th trip to the farm.

More of Bertha's folk art

A family heirloom: My mother in law's "Last Supper" Paint by Numbers

TALLBOTTON

Click images to enlarge.

Just this past month, we got to spend another adventurous weekend in the outdoors. This time we went to Tallbotton, GA. The TN farm is where Ryan's mom grew up and Tallbotton in Middle GA is where Ryan's dad grew up.

It's a small town amongst other small towns with beautiful antebellum homes and town squares dating back before the civil war and where cellphones have zero signal.

The shabin was built by Ryan, his dad and brother as a hunting lodge. It is basic at best. A small kitchen, small "bathroom" and larger room which houses several beds. The shabin is tucked away at the back of the 350 acre wooded farm. The only way to get back to the shabin is by truck or four wheeler because of the rough tree lined dirt road.

It's like stepping back in time. There is no electricity, no running water which means no toilet (hence why bathroom is in quotes). Ryan's dad was kind enough to accommodate us women with a camping toilet and a generator for lights.

I used to be a camping snob- working out in Colorado, making fun of people who brought pillows and air mattresses on camping trips. Now, that has changed.

I have never been so excited to have a little plastic camping toilet with the blue airplane bathroom flushing liquid. I washed my face in a metal dish with bottled water and felt a little closer to how my southern ancestors have roughed it.

The GA farm consists of the original house my father-law was raised in which is now falling apart and the remnants of it have been ransacked. Some old relics of cars and barns and the shabin.

Ryan's dad enjoyed driving me around town past the churches and houses sharing old folklore past down for generations, an old lady believed to be a witch that put a curse on a well and the healing snake stone given by the Indians that cured many illnesses.

The church he grew up going to was a Baptist church and was also shared by the Methodists across the street. They would all go to Sunday school in the Methodist church and then walk across the street to the Baptist church for the service.

Another church we visited was set way, way, and I mean way far down a bumpy dirt road. They have recently upgraded to a generator so they can have electricity on Sundays and a port-a-potty instead of an outhouse. They'd give you lots of excuses to skip church on Sunday.

The church grave site was really interesting. From years of plastic flowers discarded in the woods to poor families' tombstones engraved by hand. My favorite is "Willie Dide".

We had a great time riding on the four wheeler exploring all the parts of the wooded farm. The family grave site, now overgrown with weeds and fire ant hills, dates back to the early 1800s.

Somewhere in the grave site lies a mummy an uncle brought back as a souvenir in the early 20th century. It was neat to see old Ruff and wife, Fannie's marker, short for his full name, James Wiley Taylor Ruff and Ready Clay Perryman Jones. That was his real full name.

SOUTHERN SKIES

We had new adventures this weekend at my father-in-law's family farm in Talbotton, Georgia. I'll add pictures with stories of the farm's history soon. For now enjoy the southern skies.

Over the river and through the woods

Click images for a larger view.

It was another lovely, relaxing, adventurous visit to the TN farm. This time we got to enjoy it with my parents and Chip and Ryan's dad joined us as well. I got to take some beautiful shots of the barn and the farm as well as some photos of my family.

My dad was a photographer and he enjoyed finding interesting angles and lighting with me. The old hay barn still has some interesting artifacts hanging in it. Old sacks, tires, boxes, saddles, tools, wallpaper and even an old chest now overflowing with hay and abandoned junk.

We drove to downtown Rutledge, which I had never seen. I explored an old cemetery and we ate homemade ice cream.

On the way back we stopped by Buffalo Springs. It was too cold to swim in for us but, we'll come back in the summer. One of our favorite traditions when visiting the TN farm is riding over the dam because we get to use all of dam jokes.

Chip and I enjoyed a game of "look at that". It started out with just distracting him from his usually questions he gets stuck on.

Look at the cow, look at the barn, then joking with the obviousness of my site seeing Chip said with a grin "Look at the car and look there's a vampire. "

As I stated in the last post, I'm sure I'd be chasing after the dogs to get them out of the road well, it was a little worse than that this time.
Ryan and I rode around the farm on the four wheeler and let the dogs run ahead of us. We got to the very back of the farm and the dogs took off after a turkey. We thought they'd eventually come back but, realized quickly they were long gone and had probably run off onto someone elses land. We drove around looking for them hoping they'd just run over to other part of our land. We'll hours later we still couldn't find them.

It rained a little bit and then we split up to look for them. Ryan on the four wheeler and me trekking up the steep foothills of the Smoky Mountains, up to my knees in wet fields of wild flowers, crawling under barbed wire, past an old rusty truck, onto other people's farms after anything that sounded like what could be our dogs. At least the view was spectacular.

I was exhausted so I waited at the house looking up on the hills for any sign of them. It turned out Ryan had seen them back where they had run off near the old pond. We rode back on the four wheeler but, no sign of them. Later in the evening, before sunset, Hank wandered back and we spotted Woody high up on one of the hills.

His long tongue waving as he ran. I swear he could beat Gene Simmons with that tongue. He'd gotten a small cut tongue on a barb wire or a prickly vine but, we finally had the damn dogs back and the adventures of Hank and Woody had ended.

I cooked some fried chicken in a cast iron skillet with lemon gravy and my mom made a marinara sauce with pasta. We ate outside next to the cherry trees and watch the last of the sunset. It was a wonderful time together.

At night, I got to take some long exposures of the old tobacco barn. Unfortunately, the clouds blocked the millions of stars we normally get to see.

Back over yonder

Ryan, myself & Hank and Woody (our newest family member)
are headed to the TN farm.
We'll spend our time exploring the farm and enjoying the last days of the old hay barn that will collapse any day now. I'm sure I'll be chasing after the dogs who love to run into the busy country road instead of 120 acres of wide open land. My parents and brother are meeting us up there. I can't wait to see my family and have a nice laid back weekend on the farm.