Electronics in Appalachia (or the lack thereof…)

I’m in Appalachia this week – Buchanan County, Virginia to be exact. No radio, no TV, no cell reception.

            Here is the music that fills my ears: Zach and Andy tap, tap, tapping on their “magic crowbars,” prying staples out of an old subfloor. Jenna rounds out the percussion section as she gently chisels off the old glue from the joists. Bo lends a hand thump thumping on the shale bar breaking off several pieces of long buried boulders.

            Paul is on the cement drill, long high-pitched whine as he breaks through the cement. Danielle and Katie trading places on the handsaw, slow to begin, then faster… z z z Z Z Z until the 2X2 falls with a “clack.” Cement pouring into porch supports, creating the sound of a rain stick; all pieces of the orchestra meshing together to create our symphony. Who needs an iPod?

            I have front row seats (my twelve by two wood plank resting on cinderblocks). Today I am mesmerized by my show of monarch butterflies too many to count settling in the mud. Not sure if they are drinking, eating, or just trying to cool off, maybe all three. John tells me they come to his front yard every summer (lucky). I see Puppy wanting desperately to come over but not quite sure if she should trust this stranger. She finally drinks all the water from her new Disney bowl that Danielle and Jenna bought for her. I am pretty sure she is smiling. There are orange moths and brown moths and silver moths whose wings are really periwinkle when they take flight. There are more greens on the mountain and nearby trees that could ever fit into one 64-Color Crayola box. Same for the different shades of browns that are stacked neatly in the wood pile. All first run shows here. Who needs Nat. Geo.?

            Our conversations run from leveling a post to how to apply “Liquid Nails” (in a sin wave). I listen to Jenna deep in conversation with Billie about her life and her babies. She is telling Jenna about her wish for the paint on her kitchen cabinets: “the trim will be white while the rest will be light tan.” Together they remove and paint the kitchen cabinets.

            I listen to Bo tell me “ghost stories” about his trailer. The old woman dressed in black who waits on his sofa until he finds her wedding band in the kitchen cabinet he was cleaning. He never sees her again… shivers.

            Paul is discussing the intimate details of horseshoes with John. There may be some “trash talking”, I’m not sure, but we’ll find out soon enough at the family picnic tonight.

            I’m very happy my cell is off and in the car’s glove compartment.

Adriana (Thursday evening)