Ghosts of Christmas Past

Christmas of 1963

The only toy I remember is the clock on the left, 

but I look pretty excited about getting those dishes.

Now there's a very happy student, a future teacher.

Mom has always enjoyed spoiling us at Christmas.

 Posing in front of the fireplace that dad built,

in the house that dad built.

We had those stockings forever!

I wish I could actually remember this day, but I can't.  Howard has lots of memories of when he was this big.  He can even remember what he was thinking when he was this big.  I would have very few visual images of what my childhood was like if my parents hadn't take pictures like these when we were little.  Thanks mom and dad.

Homecoming

It's been many decades since I've experienced high school homecoming festivities.  We tried to learn some Spanish amidst Hat Day, Holiday Day, Dynamic Duo Day, but I finally had to succumb to the chaos on Friday, Parade Day.  We just 'chilled' in 1st and 2nd period.  And after attendance in 3rd period, who knows where everyone really went.  Most of us loaded up on buses for a quick trip to downtown Franklin for the homecoming parade.

The JROTC kicked off the parade.  I remember my astonishment at seeing all the JROTC groups when I stumbled upon the Veteran's Day Parade a few years ago.

Then the band came by.  When I enter the high school each morning, this kid is always leaning against the wall with drumsticks in motion.  The drummers stopped right in front of me and I couldn't believe the energy coming off those drums.  The rhythm was seriously messing with my heartbeat.

One of those tuba players is in my 7th period class.  He always tells me he's a bad tuba player.  When I look at him with doubting expressions, his fellow band members assure me that it's true.

The physics teacher has an after-school robotics class.  This robot zipped around the parade and stole the show at times.

Each class worked all week on a float.  I'm not sure who did this one or why Batman was the theme.

I love this float and their disclaimer sign.

When I was in high school, I joined the swim team one year.  It was very strange behavior for me.  I was probably the slowest swimmer on the team but was so proud of myself for surviving the rigorous workouts and hanging in there.  So, swimmers have a special place in my heart.

This was my favorite float, the Junior Float.  It's pretty awesome for high school, right?

I like this picture even though you can't see anyone's faces.

What's a homecoming parade without cheerleaders...

and a football team?  It was a fun and exciting day.

Anyone? Anyone?

For the last five weeks I've been subbing in a high school Spanish class.  It all came about very suddenly.  It's been exhausting, challenging, sleep-depriving and fun at times.  Did I mention exhausting?  It has consumed my life with newness: teaching high school kids for the first time, teaching Spanish 3 and IB Spanish, and finally being fully immersed in Southern (suburban) culture after having lived here for two years.

So, it's hard to get used to having students with facial hair who tower over me.  And, I can't get used to students saying things like, "Can I go get my book?  I left it in my car."  What?  You have a car?  Oh yeah, you people drive.  And that's why the parking lot is so much bigger than my middle school parking lots.  And that's why if I leave at 6:25 AM instead of 6:20 AM, it takes me 10 minutes to complete the last half mile of my 30-minute commute.

I'm teaching mostly sophomores and I've come to the conclusion that they're not much different than 8th graders.  Of course, they'd be insulted to hear me say that, but it's kind of true.  Most of the girls are delightful and quite mature, but a handful of mean girls can still ruin a day or at least a class period.  Some of the boys are more mature than 8th grade boys, but most are just taller.  I have to say, though, goofy boys make my day.  I'd much rather have to deal with channeling and focusing excessive energy than having to try to create it.

Teaching something other than Spanish I has been really great.  You can only teach "uno, dos, tres" so many times before your eyeballs start to roll around in your head.  Of course, I think I only taught "uno, dos, tres" for one year in Needham before I discovered the storytelling technique (TPRS) which made a huge difference for me and my students.

It's fun to feel like I've finally been immersed in Southern culture for the first time in two years.  It's been eye opening.  I'm not sure I like some of what I've experienced, and I'm not sure that what I've experienced can be attributed to the South or to difference in working with high school staff and students rather than middle school.  

For the most part, the students and the teachers are very friendly.  I've really enjoyed the quick acculturation that comes through getting to know the staff and students in a new area.  In the staff workroom/lunchroom I find myself mostly listening and trying to figure who and what they're talking about.

In the classroom I always have to get clarification on names and acronyms.  When I first started teaching in the Bay Area, I noticed all my students talked about Piece o' My Heart, which really turned out to be their favorite pizza place, Pizza My Heart.  Here, Zaxby's, a chicken place near the school, gets mentioned often - until someone brings up Chick-fil-A.  When I ask which one they like better, Chick-fil-A always wins.

So, that's what I've been up to for the last five weeks if you've been wondering where I ran off to.

Poultry

What is it about poultry that makes me giddy?  Maybe it's because my brother, sister and I each had a rooster when we were kids.  Anyway, I was delighted to discover that the Wilson County Fair had a whole exhibit dedicated to poultry.  Okay, there were some rabbits in there too, but I hardly noticed them.

Is that his brain above his beak?  I'm surprised he can hold his head up!  It's pretty obvious that this guy was the inspiration for the Klingon costume in the Star Trek series.

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What in the heck is this plumed mess?  This guy just looked like a big ball of fur.  It was hard to find his head.

Here's the 'John Travolta' of the poultry exhibit, sporting his retro 70s bell bottoms.  How do these guys walk without tripping over themselves?

Here's another one of those faceless guys, just a white fluffy blob.  But, he had an intriguing shimmery blue spot on each side of his head.  According to the diagram below, those might be his ear lobes.  This guy and the one above him are Silkies.  This site mentions that the feathers of Silkies don't have quills or barbs.  You can see that they look like they have fur rather than feathers, and apparently they feel like a Persian cat!

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Below is a surprisingly colorful bird.  Oh, sorry.  That's Phyllis Diller.  She was one extravagant and funny lady.  We'll miss her.  I have to say, though, that she came to mind while walking through this exhibit.

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See, what did I tell you?  Phyllis Diller, right?  I'm pretty sure that her hairdo inspiration came from the likes of these two.

And last but not least, we have a peacock - the winner of the decorated round bale hay competition.  Most of you probably don't know that I'm trilingual - fluent in English, Spanish, and Peacock.

Sorghum and Stuff

When we moved here two years ago we were talking to someone about going to the Williamson County Fair.  They informed us that the Wilson County Fair was the one to go to.  We finally went to both this August, and I have to agree that the Wilson County Fair rocks!  Here's what I noticed about the Wilson County Fair:

• It's less yuppified.  We finally heard some serious Southern accents.
• There were more rides and games, even though we didn't do any of that.
• In addition to all the 'typical' fried foods (e.g., candy bars, Oreos, Twinkies), they sold fried pizza and fried banana pudding.  The teen boys who sat next to us at lunch were eating fried banana pudding and they informed us that it was really good.  One of them mentioned that he'd even heard of deep fat fried Coke.  
• In addition to sheep, pigs and cows there were rabbits and poultry.  I am obsessed with poultry at fairs!
• There was a chili cook off.  I told Howard that I'm going to sign him up to be a judge next year.
• We saw our first mule pull.  It wasn't too exciting but it was a first.

The best thing for me though was that the fair was located near (or on?) the grounds of the Fiddlers Grove Historical Village.  I definitely want to go back on a non-fair day to check it out.  That's where we stumbled upon the Gallinippers and where we saw a horse drawn sorghum mill in action.

Watching this little guy do his job was fascinating.  It's amazing what kids can do when they are given the chance.  He was working with a horse that could easily crush him and with machinery that could really hurt him.  His height was a plus - he didn't have to worry about ducking every time the sweep came by.  His job was to feed the sorghum cane into the rollers.  He knew exactly how much to put in and how long to wait before he added more.

I don't remember if the horse stopped by itself or if he stopped the horse, but it definitely seemed like he was controlling that gigantic beast with that small piece of cane.  Notice his tongue hanging out in great concentration.  It was like that the whole time.  So dang cute!

The greenish sorghum juice was pouring into that white bucket in the background.  We didn't watch the rest of the process but I read that they boil the juice until it turns muddy brown and then clear brown.  It takes about four gallons of juice to make one gallon of syrup.  I'm kicking myself now for not buying a whoopie pie or a popcorn ball made with sorghum syrup!

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Here's a cool diagram of a horse-drawn sorghum mill.  I also read that Kentucky and Tennessee are the largest sorghum syrup producing states and proud of it.  So, I'm a little bit obsessed with sorghum syrup now and I can't wait to go to the Muddy Pond Sorghum Mill in a few weeks!

The Gallinippers

We've interrupted the long drawn-out reporting of our June road trip to tell you about a more current adventure.  Remember those pesky crane flies that I told you about here and here.  It turns out they're also known as wolf mosquitoes, gollywhoppers, and gallinippers.  So, it's pretty fun and interesting that an old-time string band would call themselves The Gallinippers.  We saw them at the Wilson County Fair yesterday - a fair that did not disappoint!

The Gallinippers are purveyors of old-time music, culture, tradition and learnin', and eaters of good fine ham.  They play a variety of instruments: banjo, harmonica, kazoo, jug, uke, washboard, washtub bass, battle organ (whatever that is!), and guitar.

Howard probably paid a lot of attention to the music, while I was intrigued with the nuances of the staging, costumes, and dancing.  There was so much attention to detail.  I would love to see this thing driving down the freeway.

The young dancer was so dang cute.  In his maybe four years of life, he's already learned how to steal a heart.  I wish I had a video of his overall-clad dad and his mom who sat on the front row stomping and clapping and maybe keeping the beat for their young purveyor of old-time dancing.

Stanton Hall and The Carriage House Restaurant

We hung out in Natchez, Mississippi for several hours.  If you're wondering what in the heck Natchez means, here you go.

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Anyway, we enjoyed some amazing Southern food at The Carriage House Restaurant located on the grounds of Stanton Hall, an antebellum mansion (built before the Civil War).

But first, let's see what was across the street from Stanton Hall.  You got it - crape myrtles.  I'm obsessed with them.  There were gorgeous fuchsia crape myrtles all over Natchez.  I want lots of those in my yard, and I want them now!  

So, here are a few peeks at Stanton Hall compliments of Howard.

The building in the photo below (behind me and the gigantic tree) is our only shot of The Carriage House Restaurant.  It's usually closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, but we lucked out because it was Pilgrimage time.  That's a five-week period when thirty or so antebellum mansions, mostly private residences, open their doors to visitors and the tour guides dress in period costumes.

Anyway, here's The Carriage House menu, which was served buffet style.  These people describe the food there much better than I would.  I still can't tell you what grillades are, but I can tell you that they are delicious.  Everything we tried was new to us and delicious.

After stuffing ourselves, we took a tour of Stanton Hall.  The only story I remember is that one of the paintings came from an English woman who toured the mansion.  After returning to England, she shipped it to the guardians of Stanton Hall and requested that they hang it on 'that bare wall in the dining room'.

King's Tavern

After spending three days on the Natchez Trace Parkway, we ended up in Natchez, Mississippi.  We were really excited to eat at a place recommended by our guide.  On page 37 he writes:

In Natchez you can eat at the King's Tavern, built prior to 1789 and purported to be 'the oldest building in the Natchez Territory.' In the early Trace heydays this was the end of the journey for post riders.  The combination tavern and post office was a local hangout for Natchez residents and weary travelers until 1820.

The building is steeped in history, mystery, and good stories.  A jeweled Spanish dagger came to light when a chimney collapsed in early 1900:  three skeletons were unearthed from the ground floor in 1930: and reports of ghosts are numerous.

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Image how disappointed we were to discover that King's Tavern was closed, as in boarded up.  It seems that the difficult economic times finally did them in, just a few months before our arrival.  I hope some philanthropic person or group can snatch up the building and restore it to its former glory.  In the meantime, the ghosts will have the place to themselves. 

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Here's what we missed out on.  I'm especially sad to have not tasted the 'World Famous' Natchez Pecan Pie!  In my next post I'll tell you where we did end up eating.

Oh, and if you're interested, this seems to be a more accurate history on King's Tavern.  And, I just discovered a novel set in Natchez, MS.  I wonder if my library has it on CD!?

Day 3 on the Trace

Where does the time go?  I can't believe it's been almost three weeks since I wrote about Day 1 and Day 2 on the Trace.  Before I write about Day 3, I have to tell about 'our' Best Western in Jackson, Mississippi.  First, it was gated.  The hotel desk clerk told us it was to keep people from parking there during events at the Mississippi Coliseum (many blocks away with its own huge parking lot).  So, we weren't born yesterday.  We knew why it was gated.  Our suspicions were confirmed as we drove through el barrio to get to an amazing Mexican restaurant, recommended by the hotel clerk.  The food and the atmosphere at La Cazuela were a pleasant surprise.  If you're ever in Jackson, Mississippi, go there.  It's definitely worth the risk of driving through 'the hood'.

A crazy rainstorm broke out that evening and we were glad to be back in our securely gated hotel - although the gate couldn't protect us from everything.  The phone unexpectedly rang.  Howard picked it up, listened, walked over to the window, and let out a shocked, "Whoooooaaa, yes!"  The flooded parking lot had decided to invade our room.  Instead of building an ark, we got an upgrade to 'the suite'.  In a few seconds the hotel guys were at our door, apologizing profusely while loading up our stuff to whisk us off to the suite - a few doors away.  I guess their idea of a suite is more of the same only bigger, minus the indoor swimming hole.  Although, in the corner of the bedroom there was a jacuzzi tub thing that was surrounded by full-length mirrors and fake plants.  Eeeww!

Okay, Day 3.  There were no swamps or beaver dams - just a sunken part of the trace and an historic house.

41.5 Sunken Trace
Our guide mentioned that it only takes five minutes to visit Sunken Trace, "but if you linger a little longer you may sense the spirit of those who trod here before you".  I don't know if that was an invitation or a warning.

So, here's what happens when you mix hooves and feet with a couple of centuries.  The path just keeps getting lower and lower - you know, it sinks.  You can see why it was so easy for ambushers to target unsuspecting travelers back in the day.

Here's a different perspective on Sunken Trace.

This picture is to remind you what the Trace looks like between each stop.

30.0  Windsor Ruins
I'm kicking 'ourselves' for not visiting this site.  It was off the beaten path and we were running out of time.  Here's what we missed.

 

[not the primary source]

This antebellum* mansion sat on one of the largest plantations in the area - 2,600 acres!  During the Civil War, the Union used the mansion as an observation post and a hospital.  It's crazy to think that the mansion survived the Civil War, but succumbed to a guest's unattended cigar that burned everything but what is seen in the photo.  If the cigar smoker survived the fire, I'm pretty sure that he didn't get invited to any more parties after that unfortunate mishap!

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Here's the map of the loop that takes you off the Trace to visit the ruins.  Note to self:  When you're that close to something while traveling, just go see it.  Don't say, "We'll see it next time."  There might not be a next time.

15.5 Mount Locust

The unappealing name doesn't conjure up images of a quaint and primitive hostelry.  The building, dating back to 1780, is one of the oldest buildings in Mississippi, and it's the only hostelry of 50 that still remains.  It's reported that Andrew Jackson stayed there twice.  I wonder if he stayed in the family's home or if he stayed in Sleepy Hollow, the outbuilding that housed travelers.  The four-room, two-story building that contained wall-to-wall corn shuck mattresses is no longer there.

I love these interior shots of the house.  The light is amazing.  (Did I mention that Howard took all these photos?)  Oh, and after we got home, Howard found another Nevada Barr murder mystery, Hunting Season, that takes place at Mount Locust.  We definitely have to go back just so we can listen to it while driving the Trace.

0.0 The Beginning (The End, for us)

Okay, this isn't a real mile marker.  But this sign marks the beginning of the 444-mile journey on the Trace.  I highly recommend it!  But, don't try to do it all in one day.

*I'd never heard the word 'antebellum' until moving to the south.  It means 'before the war', but it refers specifically to the period in US history before the Civil War and after the War of 1812, the years 1815-1861.