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 quite 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 seatbelts in big fast rumbling cars.
I am from bellbottoms, 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 barbeques 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.