I am fascinated with the unique and immutable truths of Southwest Virginia. I am calling these truths the Tao.
Tao is defined as “the rational basis of human activity or conduct” or “a universal, regarded as an ideal attained to a greater or lesser degree by those embodying it.” Thus, the people of this region define the Tao, and it defines them. They practice the Tao, because they have no other choice. They are the Tao.

Tuesday, April 22, will mark the 38th anniversary of Earth Day. According to Wikipedia, the on-line encyclopedia (http://www.wikipedia.en), in September of 1969, Gaylord Nelson, a senator from Wisconsin, announced that a nationwide grassroots demonstration by citizens concerned about the environment would take place the following spring. Nelson said he was behind the demonstration because he wanted concerns about the environment to be on the national agenda. On April 22, 1970, Nelson got his wish, as concern about the environment drew enough attention to begin a national movement to improve our environment and brought calls to eliminate many sources of pollution.

When my wife Sweetness and I go to bed at the same time, she occupies her side of the bed and I occupy mine, and all is well.  But if she goes to bed before I do, she occupies three quarters of the bed, leaving me a precarious six inches of mattress to cling to.  It is hard to fall into the arms of Morpheus knowing that, as soon as I do, I will fall out of bed and have numerous black and yellow bruises in the morning.

Welcome to Historic Garden Week! This Virginia tradition is celebrating its 75th anniversary this week along with Earth Day, which is being commemorated for the 38th time since it was introduced in 1970.  If that’s not enough of a reminder that spring is here, there’s Arbor Day, which is always celebrated on the last Friday of April in Virginia. 
I started celebrating early when I walked out of the house this spring and first smelled the earth thawing out.  I love dirt ripe with dew when it’s just getting ready for another growing season.  I can’t resist.  I have to get my hands it.

A wise man once noted that there are two things guaranteed in life: death and taxes.  Our forefathers tried to assure us of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” but the government does not pursue my happiness with the same vigor that the Internal Revenue Service pursues my taxes.

I felt kind of bad stopping in, but I did stop, on a lark.
I was driving to the Coomes Center after finding a quick lunch at Kroger after visiting my mother when I remembered that I needed to buy something for a birthday present.  That’s when I saw the sign at the Celtic Cottage and pulled my car over.

Greetings from Hickory Ridge. When I was a kid, I was convinced that the Easter Bunny lived in the moon. I saw him in profile, pushing a basket mounted on wheels. The basket was filled with Easter eggs and candy. Where that idea came from I have no idea, but when I look at a full moon, I can see the Easter Bunny clearly.

“How many?”
If I heard that once Sunday night, I heard it 278 times.
We were coming home from Granny’s and Papaw’s, just the two of us, my eldest and I. It took me a few times, 50 or so, to catch on that he was pretending to lick the cars headed West Virginia way on Interstate 77.

“The Dalai Lama sold out!” I exclaimed to my husband, who was sitting in a chair reading.  He looked up and, curious, raised his eyebrows.
“No more tickets for the Bethlehem lecture,” I continued.

Eventually, every church and women’s group decides to publish a cookbook as a fundraiser.  Ideally, you do not publish more cookbooks than there are members, since members are only obligated to buy one, and you do not want any left over.