Where the Thistle Grows Wild

tennessee

mountains
the mountains are different
in tennessee than they are at home
they're smaller, darker colored
i wonder if here they ride through them too
i'm sure they do
what's the point of living in the mountains
if you can't enjoy them?

the room
i'll take you to our guest room, sweetie. i'm so glad you're here!
my grandma's voice sounds like the soft hum of the radiator: warm, gentle, almost familiar though i've only met her once.
thank you so much
i smile, my heart settling down once i see it.
the window is wide, it covers almost the entire back wall
with small plants draping down from their pots soaking up the sun.
the bed is a double, much bigger than my bed back at home
with two soft worn out pillows, a black and white cat curled up on top of one of them
and one of grandma's hand sewn quits
spread out

quilt
how colorful it is
with each stitching carefully done by hand
perfectly sturdy through the years and years of use by many.
the patterns of different fabrics sewn together
they way it soaks up the sunlight
how beautiful it is
i wonder how many have laid under it
and felt safe beneath its thickness.

drawers
i know you just got here honey so don't feel like you gotta come, but supper's ready in the kitchen in a half hour. go ahead and get settled in, darling.
i nod and smile once more,
and she leaves me.
i open the wooden drawers of the dresser by the door
mainly empty, except for a few things:
a quality light pink rope,
it's rough and textured between my fingers.
some work gloves,
soft and baby blue with yellow stripes.
and a bible
worn leather edges and yellowed pages,
i begin unpacking my clothes and things into the drawers
folding them nicely and storing my suitcase in the small closet.
i decide to go to supper.

laughter
it's grandma, grandpa, uncle RW, aunt Kallie, cousin Charlie, cousin Gage, and me.
i don't want to be quiet
but i don't know what to say.
i've never met my cousins before
and only met my grandparents and aunt and uncle once.
i love listening to the laughter and the crazy stories gage and charlie are telling
about their experiences bullriding in the local rodeos
or the overnight cattle drives across the whole property
or training the wildest mustangs or greenest quarter horses they've seen.
everyone laughs and so i laugh too
when gage explains how it feels to be trampled by a bull
with smile lines deep
and a sparkle of passion and fire in his eyes.
i could get used to having cousins,
or people in general, to laugh with

cornbread
i ain't never had supper made my grandma where we didn't have cornbread!
charlie chuckles when i compliment how good it tastes
it was my grandmother's recipe
grandma tells me, cutting herself another slice.

grandpa
we'll be up early tomorrow, boys. Cash'll be here with his horse by 5:00. be ready.
grandpa's voice means business,
gage and charlie nod obediently.
i watch, quiet.
Eden, that paint horse of yours in shape?
yes sir. i reply quickly.
if you feel like it, come with us for the drive tomorrow, we could use the extra help and you wanna learn anyway. we have some extra sleeping bags and stuff if you'd like.
grandpa's voice softens when he talks to me.
only if you're comfortable, sweetie
grandma chimes in.
i look around the room at all of these new people i suddenly feel like
i've known my whole life.
that sounds great! i grin, how long will we be gone?
two nights!
i'm no longer nervous, just excited.