a trip

The acorns confetti the backyard like heavy pepper in the side of our Alabama hill, and I’m going there, where the trees go bare, where the creek and shifting leaves beg hush.

My daddy has a graceful red horse that runs (thunders) along side our van every time we start up the driveway. She runs, and her hair moves like one of those scenes that passes through your mind when you take a last breath.

We’ll take 5-minute walks 15 times a day. Horses and barns and acorns, allergies berzerk, tears coming out in happy stings.

But going home isn’t dramatic. It’s still just mostly huddling around the television and eating until we hate ourselves. My boys, though, will touch land that is theirs, taste a hint of milk and honey.

Here at the apartments, they don’t belong, can’t dig or climb or throw. Pray that the bottom of my Mama’s tub is full of dirt every night we’re there. Pray we smell sweet feed, open dusty hymnals and sing, “Flee as a Bird to Your Mountain.”

Thanksgiving time, I’ll write on paper with a cheap pen, and I’ll glory in boonies away from the internet, and I’ll wait until the dishwasher’s running to take a shower, and I’ll have a bite of the world’s best banana pudding just for you.

About me


Reply November 18, 2011

Seriously, I always spell Flee like "flea." Amber, go back to elementary school.

    Reply November 25, 2011

    that is the best way to spell it!

Reply November 18, 2011

It sounds just like a little bit of heaven to me Amber. Praying all of that and more. Have a wonderful time.

Kathy Robbins
Reply November 18, 2011

Where in Alabama? I am from there: transplanted in Texas for now. But I do miss Alabama!

Reply November 18, 2011

praying for dirt! pretty sure i have never done that before.... will you eat corn pudding? because i will eat some for all the souls who will miss out on gary's corn pudding....

Reply November 18, 2011

ah..... bringing back such wonderful memories of my own childhood Thanksgivings spent in southern Alabama (Beatrice)... so different from the small Thanksgiving gatherings I have now with my own husband and children way off in Michigan where they eat stuffing instead of dressing and mashed white potatoes instead of sweet potato casserole. I spend Thanksgiving morning reliving childhood trips home to Granny's house while I cook the recipes from my childhood, thankful for a heart full of such pleasant memories.

Reply November 19, 2011

Oh Amber, what a beautiful, authentic celebration of home. Thank you, and happy Thanksgiving.

diana trautwein
Reply November 19, 2011

Have a lovely, lovely, heart-filling-to-the-brim week. Lots of dirt, lots of deep breaths filled with sacred air, lots of soul-stirring songs - and plenty of great food, too. (Don't hate yourself, ever.)

Reply November 19, 2011

I can't wait to return to my folks for Thanksgiving! I feel the same sense when we visit. My oldest is determined to live there and be a farmer...And she's pretty sure if we'd just make the decision to DO IT we could be farmers/ranchers too.

And she's probably right. Sadly, I don't think God called us to that life. And that is truly one of the hardest things I've had to accept about His plan for me.

Have fun!

Reply November 19, 2011

Your writing always has such a strong sense of place. You engage every sense, every time. Enjoy your respite. Eat a lot. Take two bites for me? :)

Megan at SortaCrunchy
Reply November 19, 2011

Let there be dirt. YES! This sounds glorious. Glory in it while you are there.

Kristen@Chasing Blue Skies
Reply November 20, 2011

I think you could be describing my own parent's home in Oklahoma! Except we have more cows than horses. But dirt is a-plenty, and my kids think it's better than Disney World.

I love reading life through your words, Amber. And I love you.

Antoinette Sharp
Reply November 20, 2011

This was exquisitely written, Amber! I so loved the images you so beautifully planted. I was lifted, warmed, brought home. Thank you so much, and thank God for the gift you were given! May your spirit be renewed and may you revel in this rest!

Reply November 20, 2011

What sweet memories this gifted to me! I swear I could smell the "played-hard-all-day-at-grammas" smell of my little ones after dusk on Thanksgivings of years past. They are 20-somethings with non-fiction lives, and grandparents are with Jesus, but memories are gracious. Thank you.

Reply November 22, 2011

Sounds like a beautiful Thanksgiving. Amber, I love your blog. Your writing has inspired me to start my own blog. Look forward to reading more :)

Reply November 23, 2011

Sounds wonderful! Enjoy every moment.

Reply November 25, 2011

my parents live on a farm too. When we go there, I feel the same things, which is why I suppose your prose is Greatness. Happy Thanksgiving, enjoy your cheap pen.

Ann Kroeker
Reply November 26, 2011

Makes me hunger...not for food, you know, but for something out of reach...

Reply November 29, 2011

I had to return and read this again.

thank you . over and over and over. thank you.

Kiki Malone
Reply November 30, 2011

i like when you say the acorns "pepper" the hills. i'm a big fan of using "pepper" as a verb. also, i like that line where you say you'll take "5 minute walks 15 times a day." that was real nice.

did you see The Muppets yet?

Kelly Sauer
Reply December 15, 2011

I am just smiling at this. I hope it was as wonderful as you made it sound here. I always breathe deep when I read you...

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