Where I am From Challenge

Where I am From Challenge


If you follow the Genealogy Gems podcast over at genealogygems.com you probably remember hearing about the “Where I am from challenge” back in 2015. The general idea is to write a poem about where you are from, the things that make you…you! It is a wonderful idea so here goes nothing, I accept. Let me first note that I don’t really know what makes a poem. This will not rhyme so don’t expect a rhyming poem!

Where I Am From

I am from the land of tall mountains and towering pine trees.

I am from bicycle ramps, skidding, and skinned knees.

I am from rays of sunshine and sweet smelling sagebrush.

I am from my little afghan and Smokey the Bear teddy bear,

I am from quilt making with my grandma Winnie.

I am from vacations to Harris Beach, salty air, and sandy beaches.

I am from TV dinners, VHS, and M*A*S*H on UHF on a console TV.

I am from clear mountain streams and powerful waterfalls.

I am from red dirt that clings to your feet and stains your skin.

I am from pizza, E.T., Goonies, video games, skateboarding, and MTV.

I am from the sweet warm smell of the red-barked manzanita.

I am from jars full of silver dollars and knitted socks from Great Grandma Roop.

I am from the twisting turning cave systems of a volcanic legacy.

I am from time with cousins, roller skates, and trips to the desert.

I am from the land of deep glistening snow and below 20 freezes.

I am from small town city streets, Wiard park, and the corner store.

I am from my Grandpa Don’s hugs and silly duck sounds.

I am from the salt-of-the-earth folk and tough high desert land.

I am from pine cones, long hiking trails, and the deep quiet wilderness.

I am from cruising the main street drag and the “K” on the hill.

I am from Saturday morning cartoons, Transformers, and G.I. Joe.

I am from the A canal and 98 miles of Klamath lake shoreline.

I am from the Link River trail and Moore park trails and loops.

I am from scraggly hillsides and the pungent scent of dark blue Juniper berries.

I am from Grandma Winnie’s warm buttered rolls and canning jellies and jams.

I am from the 1946-foot depths of the bluest Crater Lake water.

I am from grandma’s talcum powder and Avon lipstick samples.

I am from old books and card catalogs at Shasta Elementary.

I am from cross-country skis and clear mountain lakes.

I am from my grandma Winnie’s piano, clarinet, and violin.

I am from long sunny days and the magic amber and pink dusks.

I am from AM Radios, Ghetto-blasters, and mixed tapes for crushes.

I am from long seats with no seat belts in big fast rumbling cars.

I am from bell bottoms, darned socks, and homemade dresses.

I am from swimming holes and the sound of tree beetles.

I am from hot sunny summer days and adventures in cars.

I am from grandma Glenda’s wigs, loud laughter, and cold 7up.

I am from stories from “back in the day” and family history.

I am from my mother’s fake eye, Coors light nights, and silliness.

I am from my father’s desire to help others and grumpy impatience.

I am from royalty, adventurers, immigrants, farmers, businessmen, and scholars.

I am from fresh linens and grandma Winnie’s soft PJ’s and bedtime stories.

I am from green horses, bareback riding, barbwire fences, and fields full of wheat.

I am from honky tonk, southern rock, country, and rock n roll.

I am from best friends, promises, secrets, and being forever young.

I am from stories, graphite art, and my dad’s “lights-out” band.

I am from getting greasy working on cars and bucking hay bails with my dad.

I am from camp stews and barbecues and singing around the fire.

I am from Oregon the home my ancestors chose in 1858.

I am Amy and these are the things I am from.

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