~ The pieces are all sewn together, stitched with love.........and a quilt tells a story and the story is our past ~

The Arrowood family immigrated from England to Maryland in the 1700's. They went south, eventually settling in the mountains of North Carolina. Later , some went further south, into the Piedmont of North Carolina, in search of work and a better way of life.

I am in search of my family.

I search for those that came before me, and lived their lives as best they could. I am in search of their stories, how they lived, and how they loved.

I shared this love of seeking the past with my Dad, sharing each new finding with him, the thrill in his heart intermingling with mine. I continue this search in his honor, and hope to know these people of ours when I join up with them all in heaven.

~ Steve Lewis Arrowood 1932-2008 ~

Come with me, back to a simpler time and place. A place far removed from the hectic pace of today. To a time when life was hard, but the rewards were great. When your quality of life was determined by your own sweat, your own toil, and your own ingenuity.

Would you like a glass of sweet tea? Let's sit out on the porch where we will catch the sweetly scented breeze of summertime. Maybe Grandma will fry up some of her wonderful chicken... Time slows here.


"We shape our lives not by what we carry with us, but what we leave behind."

~You live as long as you are remembered.~

"Our most treasured family heirlooms are our sweet family memories. " Author: Unknown

"But those who came before us will teach you. They will teach you from the wisdom of former generations."


Arrowood Family

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Sentimental Saturday ~ The Woodpecker of Chestnut Street


Precious little “pockets” of time that are imprinted on our minds, that we carry with us through this life.

This morning I rose and walked out on the sunroom to take a look at the morning. It was still and quiet. I love to walk out and say my morning prayers in the solitude of that moment. Beautiful, fleeting hushed silence before the dawn.

This morning my moment of quiet was disrupted. Out of the stillness and ‘not quite daylight” mist was a “Rat a Tat Tat “ . A woodpecker.. Noisily searching for his breakfast before the dawn.

Rat a Tat a Tat Tat Tat! I had to smile. A giggle came up from my midsection.

That woodpecker brought back a moment that made me laugh out loud.

I was back on Chestnut street, in the house where I grew up. It was early morning, misty and not quite light yet. The house was awakened by that same ‘Rat A Tat A Tat ‘ noise.

A woodpecker caused that great noise, apparently a misguided, possibly mentally challenged woodpecker. He had discovered our gutters out on the front of the house. Our metal gutters. He did not seem to mind the brain jarring racket that he was making banging his beak on that metal gutter..
But my Dad sure did not like it.

The whole house emerged, sleepy eyed and confused. Dad went toward the porch, valiantly striding toward the door, to be the champion of the household (ever the Champion, bless you, Daddy). Then he remembered that he did not have on his pants . Jockeys on a Sunday morning porch is not good.

He circled back and when properly attired, he went out to investigate. The sight of my Dad waving a clenched fist up in the air at that mentally challenged wood pecker, is not one that I can forget easily.
Like, never.

He was still half asleep and the scene was straight out of a comedy. We were all rattled out of bed, the noise reverberated through out the house with an astounding cacophony. It would not be the last time. That woodpecker, while mentally challenged, was also a very determined woodpecker.

Ah, those sweet moments where glimpses of your childhood become, once again, front and center.

We also had a situation with the peep hole installed in the front door. When winds reached a certain velocity, outside,  it would stream through that peep hole with a sound you cannot imagine. A resounding fog horn sound. That was memorable for sure. Giggle.
But that is another story for another time....

Thank goodness for memories. I miss you , Dad.

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