You Caint do Nuthin' 'bout the Weather

Whenever I think of the weather, I am reminded of an old joke I heard years ago about an old hill woman and her grandson, who was doing homework on the correct usage of prepositions. After doing his homework, the boy was expected to go out and hoe up the garden. Just as the pupil thought he had finally grasped the concept, he closed his book, but not wanting to go hoe the garden he looked at his grandmother and said, “I wisht it would rain cats and dogs.” Not knowing (or caring) about the grammatical rules for the uses of prepositions, she responded to her grandson, “Why would you call weather that you’ve got to come in out of up for?” Hearing this, the boy opened his textbook again in bewilderment. I don’t know why, but that has always stuck with me, and I still find it humorous.

I thought of this again today when I was planning a new post about forecasting the weather. I grew up with many ways to foretell the weather by watching the animals. My Grandmaw Mary always said to pay attention to the animals, they will tell you things. That is true enough.

We all know about the wooly worm, and I’m sure you’ve even heard about Granny Clampett’s weather beetle. Even I have included some other time honored folk methods to making an accurate weather forecast in a previous post. Laugh all you want but you’d probably be shocked at just how accurate some of these methods tend to be. Included below are a few of the lesser known folk methods of forecasting weather by watching animals.

When bears store food in autumn, it is going to be a bad winter.

The chattering of squirrels in midwinter indicates an early spring.

If beavers build their lodge’s higher than normal, it is going to be a bad & long winter.

If you see bear tracks in the first snow of the year, it will be a mild winter.

If a cat warms itself in the February sun, it will warm itself by a fire in March.

If there are a lot of herons in the fall, a cold winter is in store.

When woodpeckers leave an area, expect a severe winter. If you see a woodpecker pecking low on a tree trunk, it is a sign of warm weather.

If field birds flock together, it is a sign of a bad storm coming your way.

After the purple martins appear in the spring, no killing frost will occur.

The color of a deer foretells the winter, the darker the coat, the harder the winter.

If fish are seen congregating in deep water, that is a sign of a cold winter to come.

If you hear no birds singing or animals scurrying in the woods, it is a sure sign of a bad storm coming your way.

If there are very few squirrel dreys (nests made of leaves), it is a sign of a cold, hard winter to come.

I’m sure there are more and more of these folk methods of forecasting weather. Also, I’d say there vary from location to location. Do you know of any other ways animals can forecast the weather?

Candy for your Ears

A few days ago, I bought a CD of The Wilson Brothers off of Tipper over at the Blind Pig & The Acorn. Tipper has been a reader and commentor of this blog since it's very beginning. I knew I was in for a treat considering I'd heard samples of the Wilson Brothers music on that site, but nothing prepared me for the pure enjoyment I was to get from one of their CD's. This has led me to write my very first review of anything on this blog.

On their CD, “At the John C. Campbell Folk School & On Radio”, the hometown treasures of Brasstown, NC, The Wilson Brothers, wow listeners with what amounts to candy for your ears.

The harmonies displayed by Ray and Jerry Wilson are very reminiscent of the early Carter Family and would be sheer enjoyment to any purveyor of traditional mountain music. I’m convinced the Wilson Brother’s harmonization on “Careless Soul” would even make Sara and Maybelle Carter envious.

Interspersed with personal comments from these genuine sons of Appalachia, this colorful and unique banter in and of itself is worth the price of the CD. Where else can one hear about Jerry’s bout of croup, or the brother’s first trip to Cu-E-Hogey Falls, OH?

When covering many southern gospel standards in their unique style, The Wilson Brothers, could make Heaven seem within reach to even the worst of sinners. It is rare indeed when entertainers can spread the Word without coming across as “preachy”, especially considering Ray Wilson is an ordained minister of the Gospel. Where I come from we call that “annointed”.

I was especially pleased to hear a cover of “Wreck on the Highway”, one of my favorite songs and one that always bring to mind the late Roy Acuff. On this track, The Wilson Brothers, manage to encompass the passion (and compassion) of Roy Acuff while at the same time still making the standard their own. This is not an easy thing to accomplish.

This CD is an excellent example of real mountain music, and to quote the late Jim Comstock, “It is so real that if you’d cut it, it’d bleed”. To me, no collection of traditional mountain & gospel music is complete until this album is in your collection. I recommend it highly.

For the nominal cost of $10, you could own your very own piece of Appalachian mountain music by the 1998 Recipients of the North Carolina Heritage Award. For ordering information, contact tipper@blindpigandtheacorn.com .

Payment is accepted by personal check, money order or Paypal, AND If you buy more than one Wilson Brothers CD, there is even a discount! As they say on the mountain where I come from, “You can’t beat that deal with a stick!”

Riddle Me This

Okay, today I'm gonna try something new on the blog, and something I've seen work with fantastic results on the Granny Sue Blog. I'm going to have a contest among all the readers of this site who want to join in. These riddles come from the book, "German-American Folklore" edited by Mac E. Barrick. Mind you, some of these German riddles can be the obvious!

Just leave a comment with your answers to enter this amazing contest!! Prizes will be awarded!

1) What goes through a creek with six legs and gets only four of them wet?

2) What passes in front of the sun without casting a shadow?

3) What stands on one leg and has its heart in its head?

4) What is it? The more you eat, the more you have?

5) What is it? He who makes it does not reveal it; he who takes it does not recognize it, and he who recognizes it does not want it?

6) How much dirt is there in a hole that is a foot square and a foot deep?

7) Your mother had a child, which is neither your brother nor your sister. Who was it?

8) Where did Noah hit the first nail?

9) What kind of stones are found in the river?

10) What is blacker than a crow?

11) What has more feathers than a goose?

12) Why does a miller wear a white hat?

Whomever gets the most correct answers (or the most original) wins a nickel's worth of five dollar bills and a mention on this blog.

Answers will be revealed in 2 days.

Good luck.

Lost in the Mountains

I found this story about a cousin of mine named Jason Burns, who was found dead in the mountains at the age of 15. Jason's paternal grandfather was my Great-granddaddy George Burns brother. Also, Jason's maternal grandfather was also my Great-granddaddy George Burns brother. Jason's story is still told in the mountains...a modern day Appalachian cautionary tale.
========================
The Pendleton Times
14 December 1917

BODY OF BOY LOST IN MOUNTAINS FOUND AFTER EIGHT DAYS

The subject of this writing is Jason Burns, son of Mr. and Mrs. William Burns, of Glady, who on Saturday morning November 24, left home with two dogs and his gun to go hunting. He was seen about Eleven o’clock a mile from home going towards Beulah and not returning at night. It was thought that he had gone to some neighbor’s house. But not returning on Sunday, his parents becoming alarmed, word was telephoned all over the country and could get no clue of him. Searching parties began to search the mountainside where he was last seen, but could find no trace of him or the dogs. On Wednesday, the 28th, Jacob Arbogast found the dogs at his bear trap and phoned to his parents about the dogs. Then the mountains were full of men searching for him but it all seemed in vain as it kept snowing and no trace of him was found until Saturday when Wilson Sponaugle and James Wimer found tracks where he had stepped in a mossy place in old snow on an old railroad grade back towards Cheat River.

On Sunday morning, December 2, it was clear and a large crowd started in all directions in hope of finding him. About 11 O’clock, old tracks were discovered again in the old snow but hard to follow. Just at 12 O’clock, his body was found west of Beulah near the top of Shavers Mountain about 5 miles from home. It is supposed that that he was lost and froze to death the first night, as there was no sign of any fire where he was. He had his coat down on the ground and bed down on it and his gun lay at his feet loaded.

There were 18 men in the searching party that found him who names are as follows: Barney and Rafe Harris, Denis and Emery Thompson, Cleat and Ora Strader, Jacob Arbogast and son Sam, Charlie Rennix, Crickard Adams, Glen Heflin, Jess Ingerman, Wade Griffins, Ellis Williams, Dick Kessinger, William Burns, the father of the lost boy, and Clarence Bowers. The one that discovered his body first was Barney Harris, went on and broke the news over the phone while the rest stayed back and brought the body back to the railroad at Beulah, from there he was taken to his home at Glady on the hand car. On Monday, December 8, his body was taken to the church and his funeral was preached by a Mennonite preacher from Job. His texts was from Luke the 4th chapter, the 18th and 19th verses. At 4 O’clock his body was laid to rest in the Glady Cemetery amid a large congregation. He leaves to mourn his loss a father and mother, 3 brothers and 2 sisters besides a lot of sorrowing friends. He was 15 years, 3 months and 27 days old.

Now young boys all who read or hear this, take warning and listen to your parents when they advise you about the danger of going in the mountains with dogs and gun when you are not acquainted with the woods. The dogs led this boy so far in the woods that he couldn’t find his way back out. Think of the 8 long nights he lay out in the cold snowy mountains. Think for one minute how his dear father and mother felt and listen to your parents.

Written by Jacob Arbogast.

Horsemen Hauntings

Germany Valley abounds with the tales of ghostly horses and horsemen. I thought I’d share a few of them with you.

I remember a story about an apparently benevolent ghost horseman who frequented these parts, and whom you could still hear some nights as he followed people going from one house to the other. This occurred on nights in the full moon, and people could see it just fine, it never spoke, and it rode just a few yards behind a person. As far as I know, this horseman never harmed anyone, it would just scare the heck out of you.

Not the Headless Horseman in the lane, but here is an artist rendering of another West Virginia Headless Horseman. Drawn by my brother, Jason Burns.

There are also tales of a not so friendly headless horseman. My granddad told me about a headless horseman that haunted a particular stretch of road, locally known as “The Lane”. The story took place in the summer months, and that this headless horseman chased a local man named Oren Bent. Oren was riding a lazy, old sway-backed horse named “Nelliegur”, and he was coming out of The Lane one evening about dark, after visiting some friends. The headless horseman took after him just after he passed the old cemetery and it chased him all the way home. He said the rider was carrying what he took to be his head in his left hand. Oren said it looked like a big round thing that was wrapped in white cloth and it was dripping blood. Oren that sparks was flying off the horses hooves as the horseshoes hit the rocks in the road. Oren said the horseman rode up beside of old Nelliegur, and the ghost horse snorted and scared her, and she took off running as hard as she could. Nelliegur hadn’t been known to break out into a run for several years prior to this, and was considered to be the laziest horse in five counties. The next day, when Oren told the community of his ordeal, the men doubted his word and followed him up to where this supposedly took place, and the men tracked Nelliegur from where she left the friends home the previous evening. She had been plodding along as usual, until just after passing the old cemetery, where she broke into a flat run. Oddly enough, beside her hoof prints were the hoof prints of another horse that was very large, and every few feet or so, there were droplets of blood scattered in the dust of the road. The men were shocked, nobody around there could explain the hoof prints of the large horse, nobody around there had a horse that large, nor could they explain the droplets of blood. For the next few weeks, Oren couldn’t get Nelliegur to go anywhere near The Lane, in fact, she would lie down in the road to keep from going through that section.

Burns Holler Road

It has long been known that Burns holler is also haunted by a headless horseman. To this day, you can be lying in bed at my parents house, and on some quiet nights you can hear the sound of a shod horse walking (or running) up and down the holler. Everyone in my family has heard this on several occasions, and we don’t make a big deal out of it. I remember one night about 8 O’clock I was walking back from my Granddad’s house up on the hill and I was heading toward home. To get from my granddad’s house to our house, I had to walk down off the hill, around the turn and down through Burns holler before crossing the creek and walking up the hill to our house. On this night, just as I rounded the turn in the road, I heard the unmistakable sound of a horses hooves clanging off the rocks and clomping up the holler road toward me. I just about pissed my pants. I took off running as hard as I could, I practically jumped across the bridge over the creek, and hell-belled it toward home. I was really stepping it off, until I forgot about the little drainage ditch near my grandmaw’s old house, and I tripped in it. Well, I just rolled with the fall and hit the ground running, I didn’t miss a beat! I was just sure the headless horseman was right behind me. I was breathing so hard though, there was no way I could’ve heard it if it was. I know what I heard that night though, and at that time, there were no horses within miles of our holler. I have never been able to come up with an explanation for that one.

One thing for sure, I learned a lesson that night, and after that I always made sure I was home before dark or else I had a big flashlight with me. There’s always been weird stuff that goes on in Burns holler after the sun goes down.

Does anyone out there reading this have stories about a headless horseman from your neck of the woods?

A Sunny Day in Autumn

Theodor Kramer, German Poet (1897-1958)
Give me to die some sunny day in autumn…



Give me to die some sunny day in autumn-
already raw and sharp - when frosty lines
and breezes sweep round house and barn that fraught'em
with smells of dying weeds and rotting vines.



Let me inhale the scent of shells decaying
that fall from nuts, and let me watch the plow
uproot and bury fraying stubbles swaying
in fat soil furrows to the final bow.



For then I might believe that such law's ending-
as rots the grape draff and thereby
renews the soil - would grant me equal standing:
It will ensure not all of me will die.

Autumn Splendor

Here are some beautiful autumn photo's from around Pendleton & Randolph Counties in West Virginia. All photo's courtesy of Jason Burns.

October
By Robert Frost (1874-1963)

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
To-morrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.

The crows above the forest call;
To-morrow they may form and go.

O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow,

Make the day seem to us less brief.

Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know;
Release one leaf at break of day;

At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away;

Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!

For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,

Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the wall.