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Subscribe to this list via RSS Blog posts tagged in Appalachian

Posted by on in Culture Blogs

 It wouldn't be Yule without the all-night dance, now, would it?


Breakin' Old Yule Up


Hoo-ray Jake and hoo-ray John,

breakin' old Yule up all night long.


Way back yonder a long time ago,

the old folks danced the do-si-do.


Hey little children, off to bed:

you'll wake up with ginger bread.


Way down yonder along the creek,

I saw Berhta washin' her feet.


Berhta come, Berhta gone:

breakin' old Yule up right along.


Roll up the rug and dance all night,

stay with me till mornin' light.


Pitch a nickle, pitch a dime,

breakin' old Yule up one more time.

Last modified on
Folk Dance: Creative Power and Connecting to the Land


I'm learning how to flatfoot.

Last modified on

Posted by on in Culture Blogs
So You Want to Be a Witch?

So, you want to be a witch, do you?

Well, here's what you do.

Friday night, go up to the old Indian graveyard up top the ridge.

Take off every stitch of clothing and dance, dance for the Devil.

Then get dressed and go back home.

The next Friday, do the same, and the one after that. Nine weeks running, you do this.

Last modified on

Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Old Granny Nicburne

Old Granny Nicburne kept the Devil upstairs in an old black kettle.

Look on in, and you'd swear you were looking down an old, dry well.

And there at the bottom, looking back up, two eyes like a couple of fires.


They say one night a fellow broke into Granny's place, whilst she was up to the mountain at one of her jamborees.

Puzzled the sheriff no end.

Broke in, didn't steal nothing; just plain vanished into thin air.

Footprints in the dust led on up the stairs, and into an empty room, with nothing inside it but a deer skull in an old kettle.

Full set of prints going up those stairs.

Last modified on

Posted by on in Culture Blogs
I Have Been So Long Away

Summertime...and yet the living is not but so easy.

My rich and full life has kept me away from here for a good part of the summer. I'm not just a village witch, you know. I'm a gardener and canner, and this summer we expanded one of the community gardens and brought another one "online" in my neighborhood.

Last modified on
How the Earth Warrior's Festival made me proud to be pagan again.

Nestled in the heart of Ohio beneath a canopy of red and gold lies Camp Graham, the home of the Earth Warriors Festival. Seven years ago, under the direction of event organizer and shop owner, Heather Killen, members of the local pagan community gathered to create sacred space for growth and networking amongst those who walk the path of a warrior or guardian. Since then the festival has grown from being a small outdoor event to being one of the premier festivals in the nation.


Last modified on
But what am I to do with all this fury, all this rage?

As you know, I am a woman of a particular place, a woman who is from and of the southern highlands of the Appalachian mountains. From my west-facing window, I look out on the third oldest river in the world, framed by the oldest mountains.

The energy is deep here, hoary, implacable. If you are brave and crazy enough to connect your energy to this land, there can be no turning back from it. And no turning your back on it, not for long, not if you value sleep and quiet thought.  This land will haunt you and you need only ask those whose families left here for greener pastures and died longing for a remote and drafty cabin set on a rolling hillside.  Those who still think of themselves as mountain folk--though they have lived in the flatlands for a long, long time.

Last modified on
Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Lizann Bassham
    Lizann Bassham says #
    Blessings on your land. May those of us who live far away sit up and take notice.
  • Greybeard
    Greybeard says #
    Good rant! The Progressive/Liberal campaign to kill energy production in the US has fallen hard on the people of West Virginia an

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