So even with my good intentions to breathe life back into the blog, it’s been on life support in ICU for another week, hanging on by a thread (though not of active conversation) and waiting for an injection of adrenalin. But not because there is nothing to write about on Goose Creek. Far from it. And I do not apologize for personal sloth. Oh NO!
My goal was to ship out five bits from the upcoming book for (possible but not certain) inclusion in lit-mags to establish some writing cred–and perhaps attract attention of an agent or publisher. I did it, and so now moving on to other things.
On the positive end, I am finding wonderful resources for publishers, publications and writers who might be kindred spirits and a help towards the goal of printing for “One Place Understood: Field Notes from a Personal Ecology.” I’ve changed the name back since I mocked up a cover a month ago. (It won’t be this dark and will contain more color. And if I succeed in getting it third-party published, they’ll hijack the cover and the title, so I’m not spending much time on this just now.)
ASLE is where slow thinking (scholarly and artistic research and writing) meets swift action (we cannot truly be environmental humanists unless we are willing to become environmental activists). We study, write, compose and create because we care about issues like biodiversity, environmental justice, survival in a time of endemic precarity and global catastrophe, and the effects of climate change on humans and nonhumans alike. These concerns have long histories, and we believe that we can look to the past to imagine alternative futures. We do not have easy solutions to the problems that face us, but we do have faith that widened community is our best way forward.
Just so you know: I’ve been busier than…you know; and had a cat to help every step of the way.
So VDOT got a late start on this project, supposed to have begun last Monday. (And work will NOT be finished until at least July 22 or 23.)
The foreman realized how bad things really were, and instead of the single pipe with a 4 inch concrete cap, he decided this replacement needed two pipes and an 8 inch cap.
You can see they’ve dammed the creek upstream and are sending the water via a large-diameter flexible hose–like a firehose–back into the creek bed downstream of the construction.
So we’re hoping for no frog-chokers until this work is set in stone. To which, by the way, I might have a hard time not adding a short, pithy quote while the concrete is still wet after the pouring is over and the work day has ended.
So what should it be?
“We build too many walls and not enough bridges.” Isaac Newton
“If you come to a fork in the road, take it.” Yogi Berra
“Two roads diverged in the woods, and I took the one less traveled by. And ended up on Goose Creek.” Fred First
The repairs for which the road residents were first given a heads-up for completion in October of last year (after Hurricane Michael removed most of Goose Creek) is finally happening this week.
And since October we’ve been driving through water, in and out of the valley here, with wheel rims and brakes staying wet and rusty now for more than a half-year. The culvert under the concrete (poured in the early 70s) had filled with debris and could not be cleaned out. The concrete over top of the culvert had collapsed more than a year ago.
And this is just the first of many possible repairs. We understand that FEMA had identified almost 2 dozen specific remediations along Goose Creek–as in “keep the creek from eating into the midline of the road” remediations. However, what eventually gets done (probably in 2022 or 2023 at the earliest) depends on local funding and supervisor decisions, fraught with the politics and fiscal choices pertaining thereunto.
I am having a spurt of organizational drive this week, and so I’m getting around to doing a better job of books book keeping, of distributing my books beyond Floyd, and getting back in motion not just with existing books but also and especially for the “new one” still in digital and embryonic form only.
Today I added book sales locations to the blog sidebar, notwithstanding the fact that there is an echo in the cobweb-festooned room that is Fragments from Floyd. That may change if the current surge of motivation continues.
So just to sign off on this minor change and move on, here’s the list of places where you can find my books. I visited all the out-of-town sites on a round trip last week, and had wonderful conversations and met many new readers and friends.
And that is a good bit of what has me jazzed: I am energized by finding folks who resonate with my curiosity and interest in “our relationships to nature, place and community” that is the theme for all three books.
Finally, if you are interested in purchasing a book and helping support independent authors, use the printable form. Saves you money (both books at $15 a piece) and I don’t have to pay a 40% discount to the nice shopkeepers who kindly sell my books. — Fred
Back in December, I was offered the opportunity to contribute a “500-700 word article on Southwest Virginia’s outdoors or nature” by the Crooked Road folks. It now appears (on page 23) in the program guide for next week’s Mountains of Music regional celebration.
The topic I chose (because Jane Cundiff and I had been talking about Big Trees in Floyd County) was SWVA’s known and as-yet-unrecorded Big Trees–and the Stadium Woods issue on the Va Tech campus.
And then take a look at the MOMH program guide and decide where you’ll go next week to hear some of the best live-performance music our part of the country has to offer. (See you on June 13 at the Floyd Country Store for the Stanleys and company.)