Friday, October 7, 2016

I hate to drive to Lincoln county.

I hate to drive to Lincoln county.
So much I loved desperately was lost there or remembered there.
I loved so much so long ago. I've forgotten how to do that.
My daddy, my Angel, my Ben, My Quentin, My papaw.
This old store is just a place off the side of route 10, but when I traveled down a few days ago, I stopped.
His store. My store. My life. Everything.
Shambles. Wrecked. A thing of the past. Somehow standing still, but not really. . .not if you knew it before it all. . .
Much like me, but if you didn't know it before, how would you know when you look? Maybe this place was always a wreck?
Except it wasn't.
And perhaps, a long time ago, neither was I. Perhaps. I forget, and it has been so long.
And so I stopped. I think of times before it was destroyed. Before it was shambles. I think after almost a decade, even I cannot remember back then.



Be thou diligent to know the state of thy flocks, and look well to thy herds. For riches are not for ever: and doth the crown endure to every generation? The hay appeareth, and the tender grass sheweth itself, and herbs of the mountains are gathered. The lambs are for thy clothing, and the goats are the price of the field. And thou shalt have goats' milk enough for thy food, for the food of thy household, and for the maintenance for thy maidens

- Proverbs 27:23-27

"I know of no pursuit in which more real and important services can be rendered to any country than by improving its agriculture, its breed of useful animals, and other branches of a husbandman's cares."

- George Washington