Tired turkey syndrome?  What's that, like tuckered out turkies running away from being dinner?  I think it's something similar to melatonin the stuff that makes u sleepy after eating turkey.

  And recreationlinks.org reminds to watch out for getting hypothermia!  A partnerships literature tells of colder water in mountain streams which can facilitate a rapid lowering of your body's "core" temp.

  And the U.S. Forest Service gives us a great update in this article.  Of special importance is the emphasis on partnerships.  It's through alliances that most of the funding and shared resourcing occurs.

  Sometimes the Department of the Interior puts subcategories of workers into, like, safe storage as it aligns as a workforce.

  There's a cool article in Light & Seed, Summer/Fall 2024 about "comprehensive ecological restoration of the wildfire-prone landscape".  It's actually a field report called "A Fire Knows No Bounds" by Lisa Jhung.  And in it she encounters the situation of private landowners with holdings near National Forest.  Programs and foundations can forge partnerships and profoundly shape regions.  It can be just the success story needed as people take a break from more heated coalition politics.  Usually the people involved learn each others' languages for the same issues and there's know-how to come up with solution.

  In a story by Elisabeth Kwak-Hefferan titled: "A Tale of Two Coal States: What happens to coal-dependent communities when the coal goes away? A lot depends on whether their state government is reality-based" (Sierra, Spring 2024), the author and photgrapher look at places (specifically in Colorado and Montana) that are in transitions.  The article does a good job of breaking apart complex issue and tying the basics of surviving seismic shift in broader industry to personal/group efforts.  In the U.S. we are also experiencing the growth of smaller nuclear power sources.

  Elisabeth brings up the point that, "Morale in the community plummeted." Thirty years ago we'd read similar news of people in layoffs and changes due to shifts in global economy.  So as we were training in our chosen field-directions we kept that understanding front and center.  It was part of being anti-complacent which was also core value in service work--private and national.  And it was our opportunity to shape the future's heritage as professionals and community members.

  The article also talks about how the same place can be different "place" to different people.  A place can be within broader place and still be its own place.

   Happy Thanksgiving

Yeah, visiting brings that up.

   Sometimes when we visit some place we are essentially peering in or glancing.  Travel definitely added this dimension to our lives.  There's a powerful poem by TS Eliot (sp?) where the consciousness is encountering "a scene" in the passing.

  In the passing it's difficult if not impossible to detail, to fully understand scene.  While the imagery may be stark (being filed past a Confederate flag on a highway, for example) the other attributes of such scenery is bereft of information.

  Thirty years ago in the Southeast there were many people working on boundary and how we navigate less isolation or a nearness to each other when we all have individual ideas and beliefs within the broader framework of nation.  Generations of family were explained by representatives when it came to talking about flags.  And academics and communities came up with honoring everyone's space about flags using the word heritage.

To me, the best

part of Thanksgiving is the marching bands.  Those ones in the Macy's parade are mountains!

Whenever

  I get back from camping alone I do have feelings of I hate you all equally.  I just do.

  I have to go through an un-solacing process.  My own.

  And in highly political years I weigh things on my mental scales.  The love and care that us poor people have for people and place has to measure up to the fictitious cold stone statue of "the Republicans".  That was how I found out that there are real people Republicans of every ilk.

Cooking the competition's food,

   No can do, a rule man was explaining to a wounded, crying a little woman who'd come to donate what she could ayudar, to help.

  The gentle giant of a rule man tried to pantomime please, don't cry, stop crying, then barked for a little help here please.  His trousers were still covered in red mud slid into browns we aren't used to describing.  A translator stood between the country eggs moving and all parties and partners and said exactly, please, don't cry, stop crying, in perfect-pace Indian.  

  Why?

  Why not?

  Suddenly the translator was like a traffic cop.  Stopping the conversations long enough to stall what may have been sales-on-the-sly or may have been good will.  Explaining time to feed our own families mommy and any food sales require licensing.

  It reminded me of working in grocery and learning why the CDC and health inspectors (especially with wonky FDA going on) have had to supersleuth which came first, the chicken or the egg.

  Adding to their stress was other peoples' stress about paying the bills and so, example: working 24 hours as couples/units of money gatherers.  It wasn't helping anyone's health to share without sanitizing and sterilizing, some health-minded people were mass-explaining about caretending and psychology.  Transfer, I explained about one company's ingredients--powdered--being in a competitor's overhead.

  Ooooooh.  Each person in the group gathered around possible resources processed the new information.

  Back then we even had to consult with engineers at a true standard sawmill about the sizes and pricing of lumber.

Deep dark auburns of oak leaves

   line some ridges below.  Like colorful contour lines to the seas of pine greens.  This year even in December the trees offer a splendor you just can't find in a city.  But the miles and miles also fill the eyes with trees like wreckage.  Big, old trees, shallow earth too saturated, toppled during and after Hurricane Helene.  Piles of trees carried down hills and waterways.  Tree-crushed vehicles and structures.  The mind can't wander away from the devastation.

  Relief centers take donations and serve locals affected and volunteers and workers with water and pantry food.  The Cajun Navy in a walmart parking lot is a pop up civilization point.  It's there that the heavy, dark and chunky with icy air cold front slams in.  Cardboard from pallets of water and dirt get caught in the gusts.  Mild air is blasted away like the cold front is a leaf blower.  Seasonal nature calling.

  Long marred as a ground filter to atmospheric rivers of air pollution the giant heads of mountains are bereft of trees now.  The few that were standing are laying like blown out birthday candles on a soil surface that really does look more like the moon.  In breaks of cloud the sun blares the truth.  Exhaust-ed sentry trees are charcoal in color on some of the just lower mountains.  Whatever comes from sky up here soaks into this filter of ground.  Some of it looks like creme brulee with crevices carving new ravine eventually.

  Dump trucks en route to gravel pits and dirt stores rumble over mostly two lane country-mountain roads even as soft shoulders calve and asphalt bulges and cracks.  Twisty mountain passes are undermined and in spots lost to lower ground.  Hairpin turns between ledge and many hundreds of feet of below.  Ravines crammed with debris.

  The ups and downs of traveling in East Tennessee and Western North Carolina somehow mirror where we've been politically as a nation.  As do the many hashtagCountystrongs.

  The AM radio in Cocke County is the radio I miss when I am anywhere else.  Especially in disaster, like WRAL in NC, the people stick with it round the clock and keep community not only informed but on the mend.  They announce things people have to swap and sell; report the sports; play good music; give updates on public safety and events to get excited about.

  The food at CANCUN Mexican restaurant can't be beat.  And speaking of food, be supercareful about eating deermeat right now.  A lot of the dead animals you see along the roads have been poisoned.  

  Reading a helpful for our region article from a magazine called Trout.  "Mettawee Reconnection" by Mark Taylor (Spring 2024).  And when I can get to it I'll post some materials from the NC Forest Service.

  From the road the Mt. Mitchell golf course where it is visible is badly damaged.  And up into Madison County the two month later (Asheville just got it's water back) damage to "downtowns", severe.

The force of water

  even in higher elevations rumbled trees, entire trees, along creeks.  Up by Mt. Mitchell State Park and Micaville High School where homes and service buildings are nestled in varying elevation trees up higher than level surfaces came down.  Onto wires and shelters trees came down.  Old Glory's still flying up here!  And in the mix of policy and loophole--wild west--of Newport TN, I did hear about eligible bachelors and meat bingo.  A lot of people stuff is just the same.  And the work on soggy and dry rot and polluted continues!  A lot of area in and around Asheville is considered "toxic" still so be careful.

The moon had risen

  in a wash of cloud that squished it unperfectly round.  Skunk made his rounds undisturbed by the campers.  

  The poorer than poor kamp talk sputtered into that campfire space between resilience and giving up.  Still breathing so I'm guessing work in the a.m.?!  A man drying feet asked and told his woman.  Same as yesterday?  Or today?  Days are already blurring.

  Speaking of AM, did you guys hear on WLIK that I think it's Memphis is having a, like a sanctuary day?  Working with a church or something to help people sort through the whole criminal v just broke paperwork.

  Makes a big difference this time of year.

  Oh, this is normal?  I thought it was just, like, political change.

  That too I'm sure.

  None of it's gonna help me fix my roof.

    The small fire crackled, makeshift hearth.  We'd gotten some notebooks and were looking over budgets and trying to figure how people come up with $9000 just for heating and air.  We'd calmed down some from being chased and people we didn't even know had helped spread the word, they're not even Jewish or Iranistanians.  One guy tried to compliment by asking if we were sex slaves.

  I don't have sex for money.

  I do.  It's called marriage.

  I'm going over to bed.  You come home tonight 'stead a making extra money out there.  The man waved a cruddy boot in the direction of the road.

  We were girls.

  Eyes searched each others' faces sternly before a kiss.  Us girls looked at each other sternly too.  We stay put.  Agreed.

  It's never extra, the lady in the sweater assured.

  Extra?

  Money dear.  No such thing as extra.  Ever.

  It's the same back home.

  And where is that?

  One girl punched another's leg.  Ooowwwah Minnesota.

  Minnesota huh?  So this weather isn't real cold to you?

  No m'am.  I been in snow so deep it was like, like

  Like?

  Like totally deep.

  Good, you're an experienced survivalist.

  Sortah.

  You'll be fine with this one bundle of wood then, for the three days.  It wasn't a question.

  You still a virgin?  A gruff voice called into the tarped area.

  Then another man came crashing up the creek bank.  Who's he?  The gruff voice asked.

  A Native American, tracker.  Gonna help with the lumber stuff.

  That weird beetle thang?  A skinny guy in a leather jacket stuck his head out of the tarped area and asked.  Up from Panther Creek?  He also asked but we couldn't hear the answer.

  Go to sleep girls.  The mountains are, she made quote marks in the air, "under God" again.  Then the lady in the sweater left.  But a biker woman came back from the shower and sat near the fire.  Steam came off her hair.

   America is unique in our ways of capitalism putting people on their own for quality of life, and together on some things like safety.  We didn't start out helpimg each other with money but we did start out helping each other in service to God and to Country.

30 years ago

  People had to stop blaming overall shitty situation on each other, so the States could work independently and together.  Fear breeds fear and that ruins business and keeps abusers able to dominate as we're all overworking and are basically trapped financially.

  It was back then, for example, a woman named Lisa explained that sex trafficking is not fake news.  And we outed abuse of surveillance in hunting people.

  Got through it!  Stay positive.

  We were young but there were children younger, so we got sucked into the make it a good day vibe.  Problem was we needed the help of real journalists!  And when we reached some M-F 9-5, they were like

  Well, journalism is fact-based, they needed evidence or at least "a strong lead" to even go out on a beat which people had stopped doing pretty much.  We finally caught back up with mentors and trusted older-than-us's.  We hadn't meant to run but what happened was, well, it had to do with racism and data thievery.  Some people we had met camping were in various states of service in foreign military stuff.  And the American political stuff kicked up old hatreds plus a fighting of their wars here.  So it was kind of scary.  And we thought we were imagining it, but realized people were hunting people.  Not American law enforcement.  They assured a bunch of us, they don't "hunt" people.  Not even when they are after bad people.  Different communities worked together to help the law enforcement get back to normal.