Every Rose

 

Every Rose

A sweet fragrance swept up my nose,

Delicately folded, the petals of a rose,

Intricately packed into the bud with love,

Opening elegantly, like the wings of a dove,

Beautifully simple and simply beautiful,

The rose with its layers of petals is suitable,

For viewing, for smelling, for giving, for growing,

It is an appreciation of nature and always knowing,

That flowers are a gift of nature, a delight for the soul,

Don’t forget to stop and smell the roses on your stroll,

But with its beauty comes the thorns,

So, touch lightly because nature warns,

There are always two sides to every story,

We endure the pain to celebrate the glory,

We will celebrate, despite the pain,

You can’t have a rainbow without any rain.

Tammy Harvey

9/12/2026

Backwards

 

Since You’ve Been Gone

The dog meowed as the clock struck three,

It was football time in Tennessee!

The chipmunk scampered around the Christmas tree,

Everything was backwards, if you ask me,

It was March, and the grass was turning blue,

The cows oinked loudly and the pigs said, “moo”,

The rain fell upwards, and the sky was green,

It was the darndest thing I had ever seen,

At sundown, when the day was new,

Ducks were swimming in a pond of glue,

At the beginning of the rainbow was a pot of gold,

Summer was winter, and hot was cold,

Everything here was backwards, I have found,

When the church bell rang, it didn’t make a sound,

Nighttime began at the break of dawn,

Nothing’s been the same since you’ve been gone!

Tammy Harvey

9/11/2026

Sittin' on the Porch

 

Pick your Seat

Up the gravel driveway, to the top of the hill,

Then many steps up to the porch were no thrill,

The porch was a good 12 feet off the ground,

But the creaking of the porch swing made a soothing sound,

And the view from up there was incredibly sublime,

A bird’s eye view of the small town’s skyline,

With a backdrop of rolling hills engulfing the town,

We arrived at our mam-maw’s porch and looking down,

It was lined with gigantic hydrangea bushes across the front,

The pinks, blues and purples of the blooms were magnificent,

On the porch, an array of mismatched chairs spanned the length of the concrete,

With the front door separating two sections of seats,

The chair choices ranged from rocking chairs to metal folding ones,

To wooden straight-backed, caned-bottomed chairs, stools or even plastic garden ones,

Some had cushions on them, and some did not,

Sometimes it was cool there and sometimes it was hot,

As children we rushed to get the seat we desired,

For sitting on the porch for a visit was required,

Sometimes a box fan was necessary to make it comfortable,

A jacket in the fall or a coat in winter to make it tolerable,

My mam-maw sat in the porch swing, breaking beans, as a rule,

I chose a straight-backed chair because I was no fool,

In that type of chair, I could lean on two legs, up against the wall,

With my mother always warning, “be careful, you’ll fall”,

There is just something nostalgic about a straight-backed, cane-bottomed lean,

Along with the slam of a porch door, made only of screen,

Screened door, comfy chair, creaking swing, breaking beans,

The sights and sounds of country folks’ porch dreams.

Tammy Harvey

9/8/2026

Oversized Dilemma

 

The Oversized Dilemma

My daughter-in-law loves to decorate her home in the most magazine-like ways.  She has a knack for putting together colors and a style that is appealing.  It is somewhat of a minimalist approach, with choice pieces to complete every look.  They had just remodeled their kitchen, and she had purchased a new light fixture for the adjacent family room.  It was a statement piece!  To adorn the 2-story ceiling that had always had a mundane ceiling fan, she had purchased a large spherical light fixture made from capiz shells.  It would hang from a long chain in the middle of the space to complete her vision.  The day of the installation, a team was assembled.  That is, all of my sons were called together to attempt this feat.  I lived next door so, of course, I was there to “aide”.  It was a fragile sphere that was stored carefully in a box in the garage.  Once removed from the packaging, it became apparent the light fixture would not fit through any of the exterior doors to the home.  It was probably a 36-inch diameter sphere that was basically the same width as the largest doorway.  There was no turning it on its side or squeezing it through as the capiz shells were subject to break with any pressure on them.  After much deliberation, my daughter-in-law resigned to the fact that she would just resale the item and get something else.  Oh, but they only needed a tiny bit more space!  It was decided that they would remove the framing from around the front door.  They ended up destroying the wood trim around the front door which had to then be replaced, but they inevitably got the huge fragile sphere inside.  It was at that point that they decided to hire someone to actually hang it, but today it is hanging there, completing the intended look.  It makes me smile each time to look up and see it because I remember the day it was so gingerly brought inside!

Tammy Harvey

9/8/2026 

Baby on the Way

 

Baby on the Way

Ten years ago, when my son’s wife was pregnant with our first grandbaby, they had just purchased their first home together.  It was a small starter home with 3 small bedrooms and 2 baths with no garage.  It had a beautiful deck outside the back door of the kitchen and a fenced-in backyard with plenty of beautiful landscapes.  They navigated a gender reveal party and began decorating a nautical-themed nursery for a baby boy due in only a few months.  As a family project, we added a cover over the deck area.  At some point, I was standing in their backyard at the corner of the deck that was so inviting.  My son mentioned to me how he needed to remove the rose bushes from the yard.  There were many of them.  Curiously I asked him why. He said it was because the baby might get hurt on the thorns.  Without even thinking, I quickly replied.  I asked him if he was going to take the stove out of the kitchen also.  He looked perplexed.  I told him the stove would be hot and if the baby touched it, he could get hurt.   I said that he would only touch the thorny bush one time before knowing it was not a good idea.  Natural consequences are the best teacher sometimes, I implied.  I think he must have understood my thought process because he did not remove the rose bushes from the yard or the stove from the kitchen!

First time parents are very protective, as they should be.  Now with three children and 10 years of experience, my son is the best balance of safety and life lessons.  He has had the opportunity to parent 2 boys and then become a girl dad.  He will tell you that there is a huge difference between raising girls and boys.  I did not have that experience as all three of my children are boys!  At this point, he could teach me a thing or two.  

Tammy Harvey

9/6/2026

How Long?

 

How Long?

As long as ducks quack and frogs croak,

As long as when you crack an egg, you get a yolk,

As long as donkeys bray and cows come home,

When stars shine and wild horses roam,

As long as doves cry and flowers bloom,

And thunder makes a resounding boom,

As long as the road meets the horizon,

And the full moon is arising,

As long as the ocean meets the shore,

When the earth is behind me and I breathe no more,

That is how long I will love you!

Tammy Harvey

8/12/2026

Howard C Langston

 Memories of my Grandfather

Howard Clarence Langston was my mother’s father, my maternal grandfather.  He was born on February 9, 1906, and lived to be 74 years old.  I was only 20 years old when he passed away, June 12, 1980.  Father’s Day was June 15 that year.  I’ll always remember how his funeral was so close to the day dedicated to fathers.  He died of a fatal stroke in his kitchen during the wee hours of the night after returning from the outhouse.  I would like my grandchildren to know a little about him and thus I am recording my fond memories of him. 

 He was born and raised in Strawberry Plains, Tennessee.  He was a carpenter.  He built houses including his own and the home for my mother and father when they were married. He gave them a corner of his property for their new home to start their lives together.  When I was born, we lived in that home.  That home, in fact, became rental property for approximately 60 years after my parents moved to Knoxville.   It was 810 square feet with 2 bedrooms and one bathroom on a lot slightly larger than a half-acre. We ultimately sold it in 2023. An aside story about that house is the fact that a thorny pasture field was all that separated it from my grandparents’ house.  When we were small my mother would lift us over the barbed-wire fence and send us off to my grandmother waiting on the other side of the pasture field.  They could both watch us safely depart and arrive for a welcoming visit with my grandmother.  As my grandmother told the story, when my sister, only 18 months older than myself, would encounter her first brier prick she would turn around and run back crying to our mother.  On the other hand, I would push through all the briers and arrive at my grandmother’s embrace with scratched up legs!    

My grandfather was a painter.  Even though he was color blind, he painted interiors and exteriors.  He would return home from a day of painting and go behind the garage to clean his paintbrushes.  The wall faced the wooded area of his property that no one sees.  There he would rinse the brush and paint the side of the garage until the brush came out clean.  There was a “mural” of colors on the back side of that garage.  He had built that particular garage for my mother to keep her car in.  She lived with them when my father was in the army in Korea.

He was limber.  I remember he could sit crisscross and then stand up on his knees and walk.  He challenged us to do the same. He always wore high back bib overalls. Every day he wore Liberty (Big Smith) denim overalls, except on Sundays. On Sundays he wore a shirt and pants and a Homberg style hat.  He always drove a Chevy pickup truck with a straight shift.  It had to be a Chevrolet, with a step side.   I remember riding to church sitting in the middle between my grandmother and him while he shifted gears.  I think his shifter was on the steering column.

He was a man of God.  He said grace before every meal.  He got up early to tend to the woodstove which heated the house.  In the early hours, he sat in the corner next to the stove reading his Bible every day.  He didn’t believe in modern luxuries.  They had no heat or air conditioning.  They had gotten indoor plumbing, but he refused to use the indoor toilet.  He always went to the outhouse, even if it was in the middle of the night.  He never wasted city water either. Water was a commodity that was costly and he treated it like gold.  His house was unique as it sat right on the county line between Sevier County and Jefferson County. He ate meals in Jefferson County and slept in Sevier County. 

He would sit down with an apple and pull out his pocketknife.  I was always in awe of how he carefully peeled the apple in one continuous spiral without breaking the peel.  He would then slice off pieces of the apple and eat them right off the knife’s blade.

He had a sense of humor.  He liked to tell us funny stories and make jokes which irritated my grandmother.  She fed him three square meals a day.  For breakfast, he always had two poached eggs and toast.  She prepared a hot lunch and then served the leftovers for dinner.  He would come home for lunch most of the time when he was painting.  Otherwise, he carried a metal lunchbox, the rectangular kind with the domed lid for the thermos.

On occasion, he took us to the local gas station, Underwood & Petty at 804 Asheville Hwy in Strawberry Plains, TN.  He would buy us a “dope” which was a grape soda in a glass bottle, and a moon pie.  The locals would gather there around the stove in a circle of straight-backed, cane-bottomed chairs.  They exchanged pleasantries and news, good and bad.  It was a place he would go to “hang out” in the afternoon after his workday was over.

Tammy Harvey

8/15/2026