{"id":56601,"date":"2022-10-17T08:48:27","date_gmt":"2022-10-17T14:48:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/?p=56601"},"modified":"2022-10-17T08:51:46","modified_gmt":"2022-10-17T14:51:46","slug":"56601","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/?p=56601","title":{"rendered":"Morristown"},"content":{"rendered":"

Fall and the Sukkot Moon<\/p>\n

Monday gratefuls: Diane home safe. Kep nudging me at 4 am. Frost. Ideas spinning. Downstairs to write. For Kep. Agency. Feeling strong in the move. Robin coming Wednesday. Fatigue. Long Covid? Mary. Kobe. On the waterfront, Osaka Bay. Mark, working for Amazon in Oklahoma City. Kristie. Urology Associates. Laughing with the Ancient Brothers. Creativity, creating. Acting. Growing here in Colorado. Me. Ruth.<\/p>\n

Sparks of Joy and Awe: See’s Candy<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mostly deaf, mostly blind, still a sweet boy. Kep. Kep has adjusted to his disabilities, continuing his life as dogs do. My teacher. He sleeps more, sometimes going to bed as early as 5 pm. Eating well. Enjoying his day in a more subdued manner. Life at the short end.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Diane is my first cousin, the daughter of my mother’s brother, Riley Keaton. She grew up in Morristown, Indiana as did my mother and her four siblings: Riley, Roberta, Barbara, and Marjorie. After Mom and Dad moved\u00a0 to Indiana from Oklahoma when I was about a year and a half old, the Keaton extended family was always nearby. Marjorie in Muncie. Roberta in Arlington. Riley on the family farm in Morristown. Barbara sometimes in the state hospital sometimes not.<\/p>\n

Grandpa and Grandma Keaton, Charlie (my namesake) and Mabel, lived in town in Morristown. Since the Keaton family grew up in Morristown, Morristown has always held a special place for all of us.<\/p>\n

Morristown had about six hundred to seven hundred souls during my childhood and adolescence. An American small town to Alexandria’s small city status at 5,000 according to Indiana municipal designations.<\/p>\n

\"\"It also had and has a famous restaurant, the Kopper Kettle, where my Aunt Mame made fried chicken for tourists who would drive to quaint Morristown for dinner, often from Indianapolis. Locals however ate at the Bluebird with an excellent Sunday buffet, sugar cream pie, and a spot for old guys to drink coffee and solve world political issues.<\/p>\n

The Kopper Kettle is on Highway 52 which runs straight into Indianapolis. If you go a bit past it and find Morristown Road, you’ll go past the big house that Charlie and Mable lived in before his death. Further on Morristown Road quickly takes you into the country side where corn and soybeans dominate the landscape.<\/p>\n

Hanover cemetery appears at the point where Morristown Road veers off toward the County Seat, Shelbyville, and a gravel road veers off in a wide V toward the family farm where my cousin Richard and his wife still live.<\/p>\n

Many of my Keaton relatives found their final rest in Hanover cemetery, which Uncle Riley cared for and now Richard after him.<\/p>\n

I spent many days and nights in Morristown while growing up, staying with Grandpa and Grandma, weeks at the farm. I loved the the small shed where the metal milk pails sat in a concrete water pool, cooled by an artesian spring until the milk man came to collect them.<\/p>\n

I remember one time the Holsteins had come up from a field and begun heading out toward the road. I was there and Uncle Riley yelled at me, “Stop them!” I got scared at the big animals plodding toward me and got out of the way. Apparently all I would have needed to do was raise my arms and shout something at them. Uncle Riley was not happy with me.<\/p>\n

Not long after we moved to Alexandria he had inscribed on wet cement Charlie polio, 1949. I think it was in a foundation for a corn crib. He was a sentimental guy who cried easily as I do still.<\/p>\n

Not sure I’m getting this right. I want you to know the sweet memories, the lavender scented times, almost Victorian era life I experienced in this small town. One I prefer to my own hometown of Alexandria.<\/p>\n

This will probably do it better than I’m able to this morning.<\/p>\n

\n

When the Frost is on the Punkin<\/h1>\n<\/div>\n
\n
By James Whitcomb Riley<\/a> <\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder\u2019s in the shock,<\/div>\n
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin\u2019 turkey-cock,<\/div>\n
And the clackin\u2019 of the guineys, and the cluckin\u2019 of the hens,<\/div>\n
And the rooster\u2019s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;<\/div>\n
O, it\u2019s then\u2019s the times a feller is a-feelin\u2019 at his best,<\/div>\n
With the risin\u2019 sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,<\/div>\n
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,<\/div>\n
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder\u2019s in the shock.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
They\u2019s something kindo\u2019 harty-like about the atmusfere<\/div>\n
When the heat of summer\u2019s over and the coolin\u2019 fall is here\u2014<\/div>\n
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,<\/div>\n
And the mumble of the hummin\u2019-birds and buzzin\u2019 of the bees;<\/div>\n
But the air\u2019s so appetizin\u2019; and the landscape through the haze<\/div>\n
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days<\/div>\n
Is a pictur\u2019 that no painter has the colorin\u2019 to mock\u2014<\/div>\n
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder\u2019s in the shock.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,<\/div>\n
And the raspin\u2019 of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;<\/div>\n
The stubble in the furries\u2014kindo\u2019 lonesome-like, but still<\/div>\n
A-preachin\u2019 sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;<\/div>\n
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;<\/div>\n
The hosses in theyr stalls below\u2014the clover over-head!\u2014<\/div>\n
O, it sets my hart a-clickin\u2019 like the tickin\u2019 of a clock,<\/div>\n
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder\u2019s in the shock!<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps<\/div>\n
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;<\/div>\n
And your cider-makin\u2019 \u2019s over, and your wimmern-folks is through<\/div>\n
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! …<\/div>\n
I don\u2019t know how to tell it\u2014but ef sich a thing could be<\/div>\n
As the Angels wantin\u2019 boardin\u2019, and they\u2019d call around on me<\/em>\u2014<\/div>\n
I\u2019d want to \u2019commodate \u2019em\u2014all the whole-indurin\u2019 flock\u2014<\/div>\n
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder\u2019s in the shock!<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Fall and the Sukkot Moon Monday gratefuls: Diane home safe. Kep nudging me at 4 am. Frost. Ideas spinning. Downstairs to write. For Kep. Agency. Feeling strong in the move. Robin coming Wednesday. Fatigue. Long Covid? Mary. Kobe. On the waterfront, Osaka Bay. Mark, working for Amazon in Oklahoma City. Kristie. Urology Associates. Laughing with … Continue reading Morristown<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[56,65,3967,4394,243],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-56601","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-dogs","category-family","category-feelings-2","category-fourth-phase","category-memories"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56601","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=56601"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56601\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":56606,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56601\/revisions\/56606"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=56601"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=56601"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=56601"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}