~ Mother Vine ~

Drinkin' a cup of Joe early morning in Ferguson's store.  I'm waiting to speak with the owner about my genealogy, I've since learned we're related!

In front of Ferguson's store in Fines Creek, N.C.

The Great Smokies...........we live very close to this park!

Mingus Mill.........still an operating mill.

Black Stock Vineyard.....my favorite!

Class 3 rapid on the Nantahala River, 12 minutes from our home.

Black Stock Vineyard

Everyones growing grapevines...............they flourish in N.C.

Cold Mountain, North Carolina

Frogtown Vineyard

In 1524 explorer Giovanni de Verrazzano discovered America's first grape.  Soon named Scuppernong (Scupp-er-non), from the river where it was discovered, this type of grape came from the massive Mother Vine, our nation's oldest cultivated grapevine.  As ancient as civilization, she was described by Sir Walter Raleigh as having a trunk two feet across and vines that stretched 60 feet into the tallest of trees.

Now a fabled state treasure, the Mother Vine still thrives on Roanoke Island today.  Generations of some of the original families on the island have been her protectors.  And in return, the grapes she introduced to the world are said to offer health benefits that no other variety can claim.  With every year that passes, her legacy continues to grow.  She was there to greet some of the first explorers to these lands and then helped usher in many of the vineyards that now stretch across the country.

Today her vines create an extraordinary green canopy that stretches 120 feet in length supported by an enormous arbor.  Wrapping, winding, rambling and stretching, her roots have held her here for more than 400 years.  And anyone who visits this state soon learns why.

Drawn by the rolling hills, rich soil and mild winters, every major type of grape found in the world is grown in North Carolina.  That's something no other region on earth can claim.  And you'll find these eclectic flavors are only rivaled by the irresistible settings.

Wander through any of our vineyards, and you'll experience acres and acres of grapevines swirled within a perfume of fruit.  Though today more than a hundred wineries are scattered throughout the state, the vine that started it all still casts a long shadow.  The first cultivated grapevine in the U.S., known as the Mother Vine, began here and is still thriving-more than four hundred years later.

Here's to the land of the long leaf pine,
The summer land where the sun doth shine,
Where the weak grow strong and the strong grow great,
Here's to 'Down Home,' the Old North State!
Here's to the land of the cotton bloom white,
Where the scuppernong perfumes the breeze at night,
Where the soft Southern moss and Jessamine mate,
'Neath the murmuring pines of the Old North State!
Here's to the land where the galax grows,
Where the rhododendron's rosette glows,
Where soars Mount Mitchell's summit great,
In the 'Land of the Sky,' in the Old North State!
Here's to the land where maidens are fair,
Where friends are true and cold hearts rare,
The near land, the dear land, whatever fate,
The blest land, the best land, the Old North State!

Never, ever in my life have I seen a more beautiful state...............I've been to many, including Alaska twice!  I'm one lucky lady, I've found my geographical home, where our people settled long ago.

~ Muscadine & Scuppernong ~

The Cottage on Beaver Creek

"The development of events outside a person's control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power"..........fate.  When I ask for the help of "supernatural power," I'm generously rewarded.  This was the case when I went back to our lil' cottage on the creek in North Carolina, this past September.  I have no doubt that what I found back in North Carolina, what I was "drawn to," was inspired by my grandfather, Henry Grady Noland.

Let me begin with the relationship between myself and my grandpa.  He is my favorite person in the whole world.  He was always patient with me, spent time with me, made me laugh, whittled, and played jokes on me, he also taught me, and he also saved my life as a child.  There will never be another who will replace him, EVER!  I was his granddaughter, he was my tall, lean, hard-working, frugal, loving, and funny grandfather.

So, my story begins: 

While meditating one morning, I received a clear vision and voice that told me, "get the pictures of me from Jessica, take them back to North Carolina with you."  I had given my daughter a family frame with various pictures in it many years prior, something she could hang in her first home.  That frame held pictures of my grandfather.  Clearly, he wanted those pictures and he wanted me to get them. I hadn't really thought about those pictures in years. A few days later, I got the pictures, made copies of them at Walgreen's, bought a frame, framed the pictures, and placed it with other household items I was taking back to N.C.  Done deal so I thought............  Several days prior to obtaining these photo's, I questioned myself as to the vision and voice in meditation.........."did I really hear grandpa right?" "Was it really him who spoke to me?" After pondering this a bit, I headed outdoors to feed our livestock, as I stepped back into our house a few minutes later, I ran smack dab into the middle of cigarette smoke, a secluded space in the middle of the living room, reeking of smoke.  I knew immediately that my grandfather was letting me know it was him, and "yes" he wanted me to do as he had asked.  Never question the supernatural..........OR....one's Spirit Guide. 

Rick and I arrive in North Carolina September 9th, 2012 to spend a month vacation in our lil' cottage on the creek.  We work, we play, we work, we play...........finally, we've accomplished enough on the place to reward ourselves by taking sometime off to sight see.  We head up to Waynesville, N.C. which is in Haywood County, about 1.5 hours away.  While in a Re-store for habitat (looking for items for our renovation job), we ask a local lady if she can direct us to Fines Creek, N.C.  We get directions from her and set out to find it.  When we approach Fines Creek, we stop at a lil' store called Ferguson's Supply.  Rick tells me to wait while he inquires inside, we need directions to the local cemetery. While waiting, I take pictures of the creek, the store, a truck with burly tobacco loaded on it's flatbed, etc. 

He returns to the truck, and we set out for a cemetery, in hopes of finding relatives listed in my genealogy.  What we find astounds us both..............

While none of these names on the headstones "ring a bell" with me, we both "feel" as though they are somehow related.  We spend about an hour, then head off to another cemetery in Fines Creek. Once again, the "Noland" name is everywhere.  I'm somewhat disappointed as I thought for sure names like, Peter, Henry, Charles, Melinda.......would show up on some of these headstones, to no avail. 

We tarry along down the road (Fines Creek is approx. 12 miles long), rejuvenated at the sight of beautiful farms, barns made of chestnut and stone, creeks & mountains. As we turn a bend in the road, I note another beautiful barn and ask Rick to stop so I can take a picture.  I see a few men standing around trucks up behind the barn, but I still take the picture.  As I click the camera, I hear a man say, "she's taking a picture of my barn."  One of the men gets in his truck and drives down to us.  I figure I better explain myself, so I get out of the truck with my genealogy papers in hand.  The other truck with two men begins to drive off as well.  I lean into the truck, introduce myself, and the man jokingly tells me that picture will cost me $5.  I explain my mission. Just then he tells me, "ma'am, that gentleman heading out in the other truck is David Noland, he owns this place, you need to talk to him."  The driver of the other truck passes us, slowly he turns his head around to look at us, I seize the moment, and flag him down.  He backs up and I explain my mission once again, but this time it's to the owner of this gorgeous farm, and his name is David Noland!!   I ask him if he'll look over my genealogy papers, see if he can tell me anything, is he related to any of my people? He tells me that I'm probably related to his wife, Sue. 

You see, David married a "Noland," a fourth cousin.  David then tells me about an author named Lynn Noland, he's written a book on the Noland clan of Haywood County, North Carolina.  David also tells me that I can find the book in the Waynesville library if I want to turn around and go back.  We can't, we're on our way to Black Mountain to see a singer, CaroMia.  We thank him and leave. 

Two days later, we roll over in a bed, early morning, in Gatlinburg, Tennessee.  My husband snuggles with me and tells me he thinks we should go back to Waynesville, we must try and find this book.  I know that his heart is set on exploring more of the Smoky Mountain's, but there is no denying the aching in my heart, and this nagging feeling that I should look at this book.  We return to Waynesville, North Carolina.  It's a beautiful library, people are helpful.  I inquire about the book and the librarian pulls up the title on the computer, sure enough, it's in the archive room, she directs us to it.  Rick finds the book, I'm elated!  We sit down, and I immediately feel overwhelmed........how am I going to read this book, find names, copy pages, in one afternoon?  Rick decides he's going to walk down to a bookstore (not far), inquire about the book or see if he can order the book.............to no avail.  He comes back to the library and tells me the bad news.  As we're talking, a gentleman that evidently works at the library, overhears our conversation, he wants to be of assistance.  He gets the authors phone number for me, he pulls up the Haywood County historical names on-line, and immediately goes to the names I've given him.  He tells me he thinks I may be related to the Noland's of Haywood county, but he can't be certain without further investigation.  I give him a few pages of my genealogy to copy, the pertinent ones.  Stan, my friend at the library also takes my email address down.  He promises that he'll keep in touch with me upon my return to Arizona.  We leave the library and I immediately call the number Stan has given me to Lynn Noland's home.  Unbeknownst to me, I have dialed the number on Rick's cell number, but have used the Arizona area code...............this mistake is discovered many days after we are back in Andrews, N.C. by my husband.  Once he explains what I've done, I try calling again, this time I get an answering machine, I leave a message, but before I can tell all the answering machine cuts me off.  The remainder of the month in North Carolina, I hear nothing from Lynn Noland.

The day approaches for our departure, we are sad that we are leaving North Carolina, we are sad for many reasons, namely, we love our lil' cottage on the creek, we love the town, we like the people, we love the Appalachian mountains we live in.  It's a hard day, the day we board up the windows, close blinds and curtains, and say good-bye.  We even say good-bye to the lil' male dog that became our friend over the month.  He had a home in the neighborhood, but he stayed at ours the entire time we were there. "Bubba" slept on our porch, he laid on the porch all day while we worked on the home, drank water from our creek, and even spent "cocktail hour" with us on the creek each evening.  I got attached to that silly, big-eared, flea bitten, dog by the time we left.

As we pull out of our driveway, we see "Bubba" staring after us, I am in tears.  We travel through much of the night, and finally stop at a motel for rest.  We've decided to take a different route home, we head through Tennessee the following day.  Just outside of Fayetteville, Tennessee Rick's cell phone rings, I answer.............it is Mr. Lynn Noland calling from North Carolina.  He has just returned home from a hunting trip out of state and received my message on his answering machine.  I have Rick pull over immediately, we talk.  He calls me Katherine.............Lynn tells me that he has sold his last copy of his book, "Milesian Mountaineers" (translated, "Irish Mountaineers"), BUT.....the women who wanted the copy never sent him a check for the book.  He feels like he's been jerked around by her and decides on the spot, to sell it to me.  I jot down his mailing address, along with the amount he wants for the book.  He tells me that since we're related (somehow), he'll sign the book for me.  I'm beside myself with joy, wonder, elation...........I call my mama to tell her.  She too is in awe that I have found the last copy of this book.  Only 500 copies were ever printed.

As soon as we return home.

I make out a check to Mr. Lynn Noland and mail it to his home in Lake Junuluska, North Carolina.  Within a week, I receive the book.  I head over to my mother's and I hand her the package, tell her to open it.  We spend the remainder of the day, looking through the book, reading stories to one another.  We do indeed find.... Peter, Henry, Charles & Melinda.  We've found our ancestry, we're very proud.

The Noland's came from Ireland (Dublin & County Mayo).  King Heremon, the first King of Ireland, is my relative.  We have a Coat of Armor, a Crest, an intriguing story.  We trace our lineage to Pierce Noland from Dublin, to his son Pierce, from County Mayo, the first of our ancestors to come to America.  He died in Stafford, Virginia.  He left a long lineage of children, a son Phillip Noland, again of Stafford, Virginia, to his son Peter Noland, the first Noland to homestead in North Carolina.  His son Henry Noland leaves Wilkes county, N.C. to Fines Creek, N.C.  Peter Noland (Henry's Son), lives in Fines Creek and even purchases Daniel Boone's log home and land, adding to the Noland land ownership by purchasing many more acres near the river. Peter's son, Willis Noland, marries and has 12 children with Melinda Green.  They leave a son, Charles Noland......my great, great grandfather, he leaves a son, William Riley Noland.....my great grandfather, who in turn leaves a son.........Henry Grady Noland........my grandfather............who leaves two children.........Dorothy Ann Noland & Robert Harold Noland.......my mother & uncle.

Our angels/spirit guides abound, they wait for us to ask for help.............. we just have to ask!!! A prayer I've often used  throughout my life is this:

Dear Spirit Guide/s:
I wish to meet you & get to know you.  Please make your presence known to me and give me your name if possible.  Please be persistent until I "get it" or really acknowledge your communication with me.  Thank you, I so look forward to getting to know you!

Noteworthy

1. Our purchase in May of the home in N.C.

2. Genealogy search shows we have family just 1.5 hours away from our home in N.C.

3. We search Fines Creek, N.C. for some connection.

4. I run into David Noland at the Noland Farm (BTW-he is the last Noland to farm in Fines Creek, N.C.)
5. David tells me about this book on our family history written in 1986. David tells me where to locate the book. 

6.  Rick locates the book (1 copy) in Waynesville, N.C. library.

7. Stan Smith comes into the scene and offers immeasurable help.  He verifies many things for me since my return home to Arizona.

8. I am given a phone number to the author.

9.  I call the author to no avail.

10.  My husband finds I've made a mistake in dialing Mr. Noland and we correct it.

11. I'm cut off by a darn answering machine before all details of my call are divulged.

12.  I leave North Carolina Oct. 4th saddened by the fact that I've not heard from Mr. Noland.

13.  I receive a phone call while in Tennessee from Mr. Noland, he has (1) copy of the family book left, he's willing to sell it to me.

14. I return home to Arizona, send my check out to Mr. Noland and receive the family book, "Milesian Mountaineers" within a week, verifying our lineage to the Haywood County Noland's.

15.  Coincidence?  I tend to believe it was FATE!

Henry Noland fought in the Revolutionary war
Five of the six sons of Willis and Melinda fought for the Army of the Confederate States of America (CSA)

 

 My people were successful land owners, farming and growing crops of wheat, rye, tobacco............ all of them raised livestock (sheep included). My people forged out a living in some of the most pristine, wild forests of North America. Many landmarks in the Great Smokey Mountains are named after my ancestors; Noland Creek, Noland Divide, Noland Mountain, Noland Gap(2), Noland Branch, Noland Creek (2), Betsy's Gap, Betty Noland Cliff & a very small community named Noland that now lies at the bottom of Fontana Lake.  My lineage takes me back to, "The Noland Lineage through the Milesian Monarchs of Ireland" in 1698 B.C.  However, "Milesian Mountaineers" has taught me much more.........Lynn has woven a story of our family......Kings, brothers, land-ownership, the Noland's loss of power and influence during the Cromwellian period, crusades & bravery with loss of life, of wealth, ingenuity, and fortitude.   Am I proud of my people?  You betcha!!!

By the way......I did eat Muscadine & Scuppernong while I was in the South...........I'm addicted!!!!





~ Our Motivation Behind The Madness ~

The Appalachian Mountains, N.C.

I guess I could really pin-point this "madness of ours" to late winter 2011.  I was reading long forgotten books about Appalachian people living off the land and gouging their existence through epidemics, hard work, and seasonal tragedies. The series is called, "Foxfire."  I'd read them all many years ago, but revisited them thirty years later. I would read excerpts from the book to my husband who loved to hear the stories.  At the time, he was plotting a vacation to Nova Scotia for the two of us.  One day, he turned to me and said, "let's go on a vacation to the South, let's take the Blue Ridge Highway from Shenandoah to the Great Smokey Mountains."  Although I knew he had set his sites on Nova Scotia, something in him had changed over the course of a few months.  From that point on, he was diligent about plotting our two week vacation to the South.  So, I can honestly say, that was truly the beginning of our madness, letting my husband loose on the computer, and my book reading!

Before I knew it, he was looking at real estate in Western North Carolina...........then a call to a realtor in a small town, airline tickets booked, time taken off work.  Once we landed in Georgia and drove into North Carolina, I knew we were both hooked!

During that six day house hunting endeavor, we  looked at a whole lot of homes and land with our realtor.  Some places we looked at on our own.  But the main spur to our madness (and our trip back) was a 1900 Victorian cottage on a creek.  It was the last home we would visit back in March of 2012, a day before flying home from the South, some 1,700 miles away.

I knew the moment we pulled up to the little cottage by the creek, that I wanted that home!  As we stepped out of the car, you could hear the raging creek.........we both looked at one another, the energy we were both feeling merged, then tears of joy.  It would be awhile before we actually bought the place, and it would take another flight out before the cottage on Beaver Creek would become ours.

This blog is a diary/journal.  Stories of our journey to purchase and resurrect a beautiful 112 year old Victorian home, on a creek, up a holler, in the Appalachian mountains of North Carolina.  I anticipate years of renovation on the cottage, some major, some not so.  Pictures will be posted, stories told, hardships learned.  It is our last renovation of an older home, our final resting place so to speak. 

Those followers of my previous blog know me as a sheep rancher.  That life is now behind us, our final lambing season in Spring of 2012 was our BEST to date.  The sheep are sold now, they will be gone in 09-2012.  However, a new chapter opens up for us..............and so the stories of the Appalachian mountains, and our love of an old home begins.