Banished to the Bedroom

By a ‘Bama ballgame!

I was frantically searching for the Breeders’ Cup on my computer after the local TV station abruptly switched coverage to a FOOTBALL GAME in the middle of the day! Astonishing, and terribly disappointing…

The phone rang and I jumped in the car and headed to the Bateman’s for barbecued ribs. No one turns down an invitation to the Batemans when Horton is grilling, so the house was filled with both Bama and LSU fans shouting at the television when I arrived.

I was escorted by Leah into her newly decorated bedroom, and with genuine southern hospitality, she found the Breeders’ Cup race on her television and made sure I was comfortable before she returned to melee in the living room.

"I'm too pretty to be a 'bama fan"

Leah Bateman's LSU mascot

Leah is an established artist and budding photographer, so she joined me (while I snacked on those delicious ribs) during half-time to show me her latest creations.

Her beloved Mango had returned from a visit to the neighbors with ‘accidental’ red and white stripes, so she ‘tagged’ and photographed their pooch.

LSU Tiger

As game time neared and the rivalry heated up, Leah decorated Mango with purple and gold fingerpaints and sent her back across the dunes to make a bold statement!

Leah documented the entire  ‘dog fight’ with her new camera.

The game was ending, with LSU behind, as the horses loaded into the starting gate for the Breeders’ Cup Classic.  I made so much noise as  Quality Road balked, delaying the race, that I had more spectators cheering in the bedroom as Zenyatta moved to the outside and thundered down the stretch.

Zenyatta and jockey Mike Smith in the Breeders' Cup Classic at Santa Anita. by HorsePhotos.com

It was a perfect ending to a perfect day, and the best ribs I have ever tasted.  Alabama might beat Louisiana in football, but they can’t touch real Cajun cooking!

And Miss Leah has progressed from printing fish and fingerpainting dogs to photography…

Good work, Leah!

Leah's butterfly

Leah's photo for Veteran's Day, November 11, 2009

Pine Apple

in the Heart of the Black Belt

My friends recently purchased a farm with a quaint historic cottage in Pine Apple, Alabama.

Pine Apple is the home of the Annual Front Porch Tour where the tourists are invited to “sit a spell and visit” in Old-Fashioned Southern Style. I can’t think of a more beautiful place for a Front Porch Tour, and Sharon is already thinking about hors d’ ouevre to serve on her new front porch next spring. (But many of us think they should just open a restaurant, I would certainly drive to Pine Apple to eat at Bateman’s Bistro and I think the Tyrannosaurus Rex would be the perfect mascot!)

The Bateman kitchen

http://www.pineapplealabama.com/frontporch.htm

I was treated to a weekend at the farm and we mixed a little shopping and touring with the cleaning and moving on our ‘to do’ list.

We dutifully watered the beans,

Bateman Beans

although they had already grown over an inch in one week in the rich black soil. The Black Belt is a fertile crescent along the Alabama River, and the region grows a variety of imaginative folk artists in addition to the celebrated cotton crop.  In the nearby town of Camden Sharon and I stumbled out of a hardware/hunting store and into a unique gallery, Black Belt Treasures,  a non-profit showcase for local artisans, including the renowned Gees Bend Quilters.

Black Belt Treasures

http://blackbelttreasures.com/ 

The region has become the heart of hunting in Alabama, and there are many farms for lease and camps for rent in Wilcox County. Hunter Appreciation Day is the Saturday after Thanksgiving in Pine Apple and the parade starts at the Moore Academy School.

Sophie enjoys the fire

The Alabama Black Belt Nature and Heritage Trail guide boasts Pine Apple is home to some unique ‘funerary’ decorations, and Sharon and I set out every evening to find them, but failed.

A 'lost symbol' in Pine Apple??

http://www.wilcoxareachamber.org/tourism.htm

I am looking forward to returning to Pine Apple to continue the quest! I’ll take a longer book and bigger bottle of wine.

Lynne's room

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I will admit I was a little hurt when the hummingbird I rescued and raised did not stick around for the winter like Squeak  (my mother-in-law owned an autographed copy of “The Story of Squeak”). 

Ruby-Throated Hummingbird by the Neitzels

He stopped by for visits that summer and sat on the clothesline while I worked in the garden, but he left in the fall and never returned. He did, however, change my fascination with hummers into a lifelong love story.

So I was delighted when the Neitzels invited me over to see their way-stations for migrating hummingbirds.  They had, Janice boasted, over a hundred birds buzzing their deck in the evening.

Steve and Janice Neitzel are renowned locally for their avian photographs, some of which they generously donate to the Fort Morgan Volunteer Fire Dept fundraisers, in addition to other worthy causes. And they have shared some with me for the new Fort Morgan website.

 

Painted Bunting by the Neitzels

Their yard, in the family compound, is littered with dozens and dozens of bird feeders, bird houses, and bird baths.  It was then that I began to realize they didn’t have to travel very far to snap those amazing photographs, the birds were coming to them!

 

And they did come…  I watched in awe as Janice & her brother fed Harriet, the heron, and the little hummers buzzed the feeders on the back deck and front porch.

Harriet the heron

 

 

Neitzel’s feeder

I attempted to film the hummingbirds swarming around Janice as she held the feeder, but discovered too late I had selected the wrong setting on the camera. That is one sure way to tell the difference between a professional and a rank amateur!

 

 

 

Recent photo by the Neitzels

 The evening on the deck was a treat and I look forward to the bird banding at the Fort this weekend. But I’ll leave the photography to the pros!

You can visit Steve Neitzel’s beautiful website at:

http://alcoastbirdman.com/-/alcoastbirdman/

WaterWatch, Alabama Style

Spoiler Alert

Don’t read this blog if you were a Millersburg biology student, a member of the Bourbon County Water Watch,  or my long-suffering son, it will just make you cry.

Almost 20 years ago we tested the water monthly in Ruddles Mill, where Stoner Creek joined Houston Creek to form the Licking River. We suffered freezing rain, raw sewage, sequoia-sized ragweed, slippery mud, a stinky ‘Ollie the Otter’ mascot suit, and (honest-to-God) junkyard dogs.

Water Watch Scientists

So last week I was delighted to join the dedicated volunteers of the Gulf Shores Water Watch and help with their  study of water quality in the lagoon.

New instrumentation

They didn’t suffer like we did with the old plastic case filled with chemicals, comparison test tubes, and freezing weather. They had amazing instruments, their own incubator, and wonderful digital microscopes.  (Of course, they test every two (2) weeks at four (4) different locations every time…  But they don’t fight those dogs)

We drove to each site in beautiful balmy weather (barefoot) and performed each test and collected the required water samples.  But the experience did not seem to equate with that at Ruddles Mills, we were ‘watching’ crystal clear water and exotic flora & fauna.  Of course, we were actually ‘watching’ for the deadly Red Tide (not to be confused with the Alabama football team) instead of routine farm runoff.

It was a big relief to learn the property owners were involved…. in Ruddles Mills we had to escape them.  Who could ever forget the angry pig farmer on Millersburg Road?

Site 2

And they also have the cooperation of the Dauphin Island Sea Lab, and all the happy vacationers  who welcomed us as we arrived to do the testing.

Their microscopes would make even Ken Cooke envious. These Water Watchers returned to an outdoor  ’lab’ at  a home on the canal and indentified and counted myriads of algae and plankton for several hours. And they have the ability to photograph and email questionable or interesting specimens to each other (and they actually do!).

Salt crystals emailed by Rebecca

These are amazing volunteers and they are totally committed to monitoring and improving the environment we all love.

 

 So, I invite all my former Ruddles Mill WaterWatch volunteers (including my sons – they endured the ‘Ollie the Otter’ costume for countless Scout meetings and Garden Clubs) to come to Fort Morgan and experience  a day with this group… you will be impressed!

Microscopic identification

Waterdog

Sophie enjoyed her tour of Wolf Bay!

Until this trip,  Sophie had never acknowledged pelicans were birds.  Watching them crash into the surf on our morning walks probably reenforced her opinion they were piscine, not avian,  creatures.

But seeing them land gracefully on the channel markers as we passed amazed and fascinated her.

 

Touring the neighborhood

 And she loved sightseeing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dog Tired

 But she found the sport of  searching for dolphins to be BORING!

 

Thanks for a terrific day!

A timely correction

A Gordon Bradt original?

I have been told, by a reliable source, that the sculpture on the beach in Surfside I described as ‘whimsical’ is most likely a kinetic sculpture by Gordon Bradt of Kinetico Studios! 

A Kinetico clock

Judging by the footprints in the sand, it has been quite popular with our Spring Breakers this week.

 

The top spins one way (armed with copper post caps) and the bottom turns in the opposite direction, always at about the same speed regardless of the wind. It is intriguing and, I still maintain, whimsical!

How fabulous to have an artist-in-residence (occasionally) who would take the time to create a public sculpture designed to make us stop for a moment and smile!

I encourage you to visit his website and watch the video of his extraordinary clocks.

http://www.gordonbradt.com/

Artists in Residence… Fort Morgan creations

Horton Bateman's T-Rex before Katrina

Today the T-Rex is resting in the sand, in need of a little repair...

Whimsical sculpture in Surfside

Perfect sign for Surfside

Laissez les Bons Temps Rouler

I LOVED my hat! Thanks Ann!

     I probably need to add to my list of things to give up for Lent today. The Mardi Gras Parade in Gulf shores yesterday was just too much fun!

    

     Last year we stood in a parking lot with elderly snowbirds and enjoyed the music and the crowd, but had to fight an old guy for our beads. He ran over and stabbed any trinket that landed nearby with his cane, even if it landed on our feet!

    

     This year I joined some friends at Avery’s home on the canal and walked down to the parade after a Cajun breakfast and Bloody Marys.

    

     The locals take Mardi Gras seriously and they don’t carry canes.

    

       Avery is usually very quiet and reserved, so I was surprise to find a wild assortment of costumes and hats for those of us who arrived ignorant and underdressed. “Why, Ah’ve been dressing for Mardi Gras since Ah was a small child,” she said.

   

 But I’ll bet she didn’t dress like she dressed yesterday!  

  

     The traditional way of begging, “Boobs for Beads” doesn’t work so well at our age (or at morning parades, or when you are sober) so Avery had a gimmick.

Florence helps Avery strap on the bodacious ta-tas

She wore a lovely, vintage cocktail dress with high-heeled sneakers and amazing plastic ta-tas.    

     

     She didn’t need to flash anyone on those floats to get a MoonPie or necklace.  She just shimmied to the music and everyone laughed and tossed trinkets.

Patti Hall on the Gulf Coast Zoo float

    

     Our gimmick was to stand behind her and catch everything she missed (or that missed her – it was a lot like the ‘ring-toss game’ at a carnival.

The parade was slow enough that some of those old guys made several tries to hit the ‘targets’)  

Avery in action!

    

      The parade of floats, vintage cars, costumed dogs, bands and wagons lasted over an hour and we were absolutely laden with beads, pies, and trinkets…. thanks to Avery and her amazing ta-tas!

Ann welcomes the Holy Spirit float!

    

     Last year my church, Holy Spirit Episcopal, was the only church in the parade (And they had two floats). 

This year several other churches joined the procession, which pretty much discounted what Fr. Chris said about us last Sunday. We are not the only ‘decadents’ on the island!

     So now I’m off to Ash Wednesday services and 40 days of repentance.

But Fat Tuesday rolls around again February 16, 2010 so y’all come on down!

“Being Dead Is No Excuse: The Official Southern Ladies Guide to Hosting the Perfect Funeral”

I have just finished a wonderfully funny book I received at Christmas from my friend, (and fellow Fort Morgan Militiaman) Sam.

It should be required reading for all Southern Episcopalians. (Be honest now, the Parsnip Brownies and Lard & Fishpaste Pancakes featured on our beloved ‘The Vicar of Dibley’ aren’t really appropriate funeral food in the South)

To start, there is a photo of stuffed eggs on the cover! I lost my stuffed egg dish in the divorce, but my dear friend, Melinda, came to my rescue and gave me one of her dishes. Thanks again, Melinda.  (pg 77)

The authors, Gayden Metcalfe and Charlotte Hays, dare to snicker at what they call our,  “Vatican for Southern Episcopalians,”  Sewanee, the University of the South.  they maintain, “It is the be-all and end-all, located on a mountain in Tennessee, where some undergraduates, known as ‘gownsmen,’ wear academic robes around campus all day. This helps feed the fantasy that they’re really in Oxford, England, which Episcopalians like.”

I’m choking on my RC Cola, even Sophie is laughing.

This book is also appropriate for Methodists in the South, as evidently they are the competing church in Greenville, Mississippi for ‘Best in Show’ for funerals. Gayden and Charlotte claim, “Historically. Methodists are better behaved than Episcopalians.”  Really!!  But are they as much fun as we are at a funeral?

Some of the chapters are: “Who Died? Stuffed Eggs, Etiquette, and Delta Pate” (that’s pimiento cheese), “Comfort Foods: There Is a Balm in Campbell’s Soup (sung to the tune of “There is a Balm in Gilead” – now I can’t even finish my “Restorative Cocktail’  because I am laughing again), and even the definitive, “Suitably Boxed: Meringue Shells, Pecan Tassies… and You”  is too funny to read while drinking.  I think it’s been 25 years since I’ve made a meringue.

The ladies offer valuable advice on everything from the appropriate coffin to acceptable music, “Sweet Beulah Land,” written by a Methodist layman at a campground meeting, is rarely heard outside of the Deep South, and is the musical equivalent of Methodist cooking.”     I’m choking again.

I will be sending copies of this valuable  book to all of my friends for their birthdays because, as Gayden and Charlotte assert, we must start planning our funerals when we reach the age of 30…. and all of my own friends are past 30…  hell, my own son is almost 30!

This is an unsolicited testimonial, so I will attempt to add a few paragraphs from the chapter “Methodist Ladies vs. the Episcopal Ladies” chapter before I put this book on my revered shelf of Southern Authors.

<<Anyone in our neck of the woods who is not counting on immortality might want to give serious  thought to taking the appropriate steps to become a communicate of St. James Episcopal Church, before it is too late.  No, belonging to St. James won’t necessarily get you into heaven. But it will ensure that you have a tasteful sendoff. Great vestments. No tacky hymns…  St. James feels it has achieved liturgical perfection on earth… You won’t be at risk for the nudge-producing eulogy… Attention to detail and borrowed silver are the keys to its success. The committee rolls “big brown,” the table, out into the parish hall, drapes it with a damask tablecloth, and puts a large silver coffee urn and tea service at one end and a large silver tray of goodies at the other…..”

Sooooo.  This book is the answer for anyone who moved north and previously discounted advice from their elderly relatives, anyone who thought funeral ceremonies were boring and is now facing the task of planning a Southern funeral, or anyone who has ever attended a Southern Funeral.

The recipes are fabulous and I am happy to admit I recognize more than half of them from funerals in my past.

Here is the website for this entertaining book… enjoy!

http://www.beingdead.com/

But when I die, (or am lost… the authors’ description of ‘loss’ is too funny) I hope my friends and family adhere to SOUTHERN TRADITION .

Christmas Eve will find me…

In the kitchen, of course!   

Christmas Eve Cookin'

And I happily realized the aroma and colors of my my food are, unintentionally, as tropical as the weather today.  My Prickly Pear infused vodka is the color of the sunset,although I may have filtered out the magical, medicinal properties when I triple strained it through coffee filters in my paranoia about those invisible spurs. I refrigerated the jelly-like substance left in the funnel and it looks like electric fuchsia jello shots today (I’ll filter again and save that for Betsy’s next visit).

     I candied the kumquats given to me by a patient last week, and I will serve them with the fragrant ‘ginger buttermilk’ cake for desert.

    The beaten biscuits are All-Kentucky, of course. This is my first attempt without a Biscuit Break and they are not bad…. almost worthy of the Critchfield Country Ham sent to me by Buck and Lane from home.  (recipe to follow) “Sister” Strong is the only one who claims to have eaten a beaten biscuit and I hope these somewhat resemble the biscuits she enjoyed in the past. 

"Sister" Strong

     I am having Christmas Eve Dinner on Strong’s Bayou, “Sister” Strong is cooking quail and I look forward to meeting her. Anne’s mother is a fascinating lady, I’m told she is the first woman from the Democratic party to be elected to the State Senate.   Her childhood nickname, “Baby Sister” was shortened to “Sister” as she grew up, and it stuck (typical Alabama!).

      When she was a delegate for Al Gore at the DNC a newscaster misunderstood and reported a story about Catholic nuns voting for Gore!  I love it!

     It’s time to put the Bread Pudding in the oven and start making the Hard Sauce, my house will start smelling like Kentucky in a heartbeat.

The Beaten Biscuit recipe I used…

4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 tablespoons lard — or vegetable shortening
1 3/4 cups water — up to 2 cups

Its execution is best described by Joanne Pritchett, whose great-great grandmother was a cook on a St. Mary’s plantation: “Honey, every time I know I’m going to make these biscuits, I get myself good and mad. Normally I think about my sister-in-law, Darlene, who ran off with my husband right after Granny Pritchett’s funeral. That was years ago, but it still galls me into making some of the tenderest biscuits around.”)

“It’s very simple. I just sift the flour and salt together in a bowl. Some people, nowadays, like to use Crisco or something like that. But I believe in lard. It gives it that certain taste.

”So then, I cut the lard into the flour with the tips of my fingers, working it real quick. During this step I make believe I’m putting out Darlene’s eyes.

“Then, little by little, I pour in the cold water, until I get a good stiff dough. Put it on a real solid table with flour. Now if your table is weak, honey, the legs’ll fall right off. I’ve seen it happen!

”Depending on my mood, I use an axe or a big old mallet. I make a ball out of the dough to look like Darlene’s head and, baby, I let her have it. Use the flat side of the axe or mallet, and beat the hell out of the dough till it blisters good. Takes about half an hour, but honey, it makes them tender as butter.

“Form the dough into balls, the size of little eggs, and flatten ‘em a bit on the board. Put a few pokes in the center with a fork, then bake in a hot 425øF oven for about 20 to 25 minutes. Serve hot and put some liniment on your arm, or it’ll be acting up the next day.”

Makes about 3 dozen biscuits

Christmas in LA (that’s Lower Alabama, not California)

Mr. Ross always puts bows on the gates of the Governor's beach house

For all we lack in traditional Christmas atmosphere, we more than make up for in creativity.

In Lower Alabama palm trees wrapped with lights are as common as pig’s tracks and don’t even rate a second look.

My neighbors, however, have found some unique ways to decorate and/or recycle for the holiday!        I absolutely love the sense of humor here!

Save those plastic cups from your Christmas party and use them next year when you decorate. Too funny!

Probably safer than decorating a live 'gator

I created my LA Christmas Tree with a nod to Eudora Welty and a memory from my childhood…

“Out front was a clean dirt yard with every vestige of grass patiently uprooted and the ground scarred in deep whorls from the strike of Livvie’s broom. Rose bushes with tiny blood-red roses blooming every month grew in threes on either side of the steps. On one side was a peach tree, on the other a pomegranate. Then coming around up the path from the deep cut of the Natchez Trace below was a line of bare crape-myrtle trees with every branch of them ending in a colored bottle, green or blue. There was no word that fell from Solomon’s lips to say what they were for, but Livvie knew that there could be a spell put in trees, and she was familiar from the time she was born with the way bottle trees kept evil spirits from coming into the house–by luring them inside the colored bottles, where they cannot get out again. Solomon had made the bottle trees with his own hands over the nine years, in labor amounting to about a tree a year, and without a sign that he had any uneasiness in his heart, for he took as much pride in his precautions against spirits coming in the house as he took in the house, and sometimes in the sun the bottle trees looked prettier than the house did.” — Eudora Welty

My own Christmas bottle-tree

 

 

 

What will Santa think??

Update

I ‘Elfed’ the kids for Christmas, again!

http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/yd2KylYqlLsEKSu0BfD4

The Governor’s loss is nobody’s gain…

Our walk past the abandoned Governor's home

Mr. Ross was modest today when the early morning walkers in Surfside complimented him on his appearance on the TV news last nite. “I didn’t recognize myself,” he said, “I didn’t know I looked so old.”

Bill Ross is, actually, 81 years old, and he has the lonely task of ‘maintaining’ the deteriorating beach home that was deeded to the Governor of Alabama. He loves the property and he was devastated when the renovation after Ivan was stopped.

The guarded beach-front property is obviously valuable.  Although Kiva Dunes has now grown to reach the far border of the property, it is still isolated and is evidently over 2 acres of prime beach-front real estate. Who wouldn’t kill to have the opportunity to restore this fabulous home?

I honestly don’t understand why the state fought in court to keep the property and then continues to let it deteriorate. It seems to me it would be a perfect property to lease or rent for corporate or state meetings with access to a fabulous beach with a golf course access if the Governor declined to visit. It would be income for the state instead of a sad eyesore on the beach. N’est pas? What are they thinking?

Mr. Bill Ross, the loving Caretaker of a forgotten Alabama treasure

Of course, there is no appreciation for preservation of excellence or any foresight in local government today, clearly it’s just their own instinct for self-preservation that influences their vote.

God help our children and our heritage….

Here is the website for NBC’s investigative report .

If you see the gate open and the El Camino in the drive, stop in and thank Mr. Ross for his almost thankless task of ‘maintaning’ the Governor of Alabama’s Beach House…    http://www.nbc15online.com/news/local/story.aspx?content_id=0e465d8f-aacb-43c8-acdd-4f1acbe99587#BBECDEEMBEDEDPLAYER

I don’t know how long it will be active, but I’ll try to download it and save it for Facebook