Took the Long Way Home

Dear Chris,

I came home after the yoga class by an alternate route, up Fishing Gut Road, pronounced "feeshin'gutt" around here, and then by Old State. Sounds awful, but what a beautiful drive! I had not gone that way in a long time. I am convinced that there is something magical about the land here. It sings ancient songs.
The road winds along a wide creek bed, and climbs up through sequestered old farms. "Cow Crossing, Red Rose Cow Feed" a sign says. Everything is so GREEN! Around and up until it travels along the Ridge. I turned off the radio and sang ancient songs to myself the whole way home.
The songs I learned from the Jean Ritchie songbook when I was a teenager. Those songs are deeper in their meanings for me now. Pretty Polley, Barabra Ellen, Single Girl.

Barbara Ellen makes me cry.

All in the merry month of May, the green buds they were swellin'
Young William Green on his death bed lay
For the love of Barbra Ellen

Single Girl makes me smile.

When I was a single girl I dressed so fine
Now that I am married, go ragged all the time
Oh, I wish I was a single girl again, yes Lord
I wish I was a single girl again

When I was a single girl, my shoes did squeak,
Now that I am married, my shoes do leak,
OH, I wish I was a single girl agian, yes Lord
I wish I was a single girl again

When he comes home, it's a curse and a row,
knockin' down the children, and pullin' on my hair,
Oh I wish I was a single girl again, yes Lord
I wish I was a single girl again


Sarah