I took the boys to hear an Appalachian story teller last night at the university. He was dressed in bib overalls and had a beard and farmer baseball cap. He looked the part. It was especially interesting to hear him, since he is from western NC and some of the language he used was used in the book I just finished, The Man Who Moved a Mountain. He told stories about life growing up, and stories about Jack, tales handed down for hundreds of years in his family. His family has been recognized as a national treasure of storytelling. Watching Orville tell his stories last night reminded me of home. My Uncle Dan likes to tell stories too. You never know if he is is serious or joking, so you listen to the whole story and then laugh. His stories are very often real ones. It was good to think about home for a while.