Progress
I ran into Bill Mabe at the grocery store this week. Bill, an Alleghany County native, is the guy who drove at least 75% of the nails in our house here on the mountain when it was built. (Lead Carpenter was what the monthly bill said he was.) Anyhow, it had been a year, or so, since we last saw each other and Bill said, "Hey, Dave, you are starting to get that mountain look about you." It made my day!
When a native sez you are getting the look, that's a sure sign of progress.
Down in the flatlands I'm beginning to get those "hidden looks" like Large when he takes a sneak peek at a pair of "big 'um". You know the kind. You look at a guy or gal with one eye and a green horn growing out of the side of their head, and hope you don't get caught before the staree notices you. Anyhow, I delight in catching the flatland starers and smiling at them. I'd say 2 in 3 look away without acknowledgement of having been caught ("My, that's an interesting bush there behind your beard ... er, head.") while the remainder just smile back, however sheepishly. If I'm in Harris-Teeter, I just ask them, "You ain't seen the lard have you?"
When a native sez you are getting the look, that's a sure sign of progress.
Down in the flatlands I'm beginning to get those "hidden looks" like Large when he takes a sneak peek at a pair of "big 'um". You know the kind. You look at a guy or gal with one eye and a green horn growing out of the side of their head, and hope you don't get caught before the staree notices you. Anyhow, I delight in catching the flatland starers and smiling at them. I'd say 2 in 3 look away without acknowledgement of having been caught ("My, that's an interesting bush there behind your beard ... er, head.") while the remainder just smile back, however sheepishly. If I'm in Harris-Teeter, I just ask them, "You ain't seen the lard have you?"
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